by Don Brown
President Evtimov's eyes locked with his foreign minister's. An awkward moment of silence ensued. "Sit down, Giorgy Alexeevich."
Evitmov was still fuming about the fact that American warplanes were over Georgia. Had they kept their planes away, this would have never happened.
Yet something about the defense minister's version of the events was tempering his anger. He looked at his trusted friend and advisor, the foreign minister.
"What is your take on all this, Alexander Alexeyvich?"
The foreign minister pondered for a moment. "If what we are hearing from the battlefield is accurate, then technically, the Americans have committed an act of war. Great wars started over lesser things. The assassination of the Archduke of Serbia, as you will recall, plunged the world into the First World War.
"While this is technically an act of war, at this point, there is at least a plausible explanation. Perhaps their pilots panicked, believing that our planes were about to enter Georgian airspace.
"Comrade President, I would urge measured restraint. Two planes are not worth a possible nuclear exchange."
"Then what are your recommendations, Alexander Alexeyvich?"
"That we take four steps. First, that we call for an emergency meeting of the UN Security Council, seeking to condemn the Americans for their hostile acts. Second, we demand the immediate release of our pilot. Third, we demand monetary reparations from the Americans for the family of the dead pilot. And finally, we issue a stern warning that any further attacks against Russia or its interests will result in war."
President Evtimov thought for a moment. "Your recommendations are accepted. Contact our ambassador to the United Nations and call for an emergency meeting immediately."
CHAPTER 16
The White House Situation Room
Emergency meeting of the National Security Council
Four hours later
I'm asking you… I'm pleading with you, Mr. President. Call this thing off and do it right now." Secretary of State Robert Mauney extended his hands toward the president, almost as if he were a starving man begging for bread.
"That would be a mistake, Mr. President." Secretary of Defense Erwin Lopez retorted. "Our sub is in the Black Sea. The plan is being executed to precision. Remember what's at stake if we don't find and stop this freighter. Nuclear material in the hands of terrorists!"
Secretary Mauney shot back. "But that was before the U.S. Air Force took out two of their fighters." Mauney glared at the secretary of defense. "Now terrorist nukes may be the least of our worries. We may be facing Russian nukes if this freighter attack backfires."
"Oh, please." Lopez's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"All right. All right." President Williams held his palms out. He'd refereed enough arguments between these two. If the Democrat press knew what really went on behind the scenes, rioting would erupt in the streets of Washington.
Still, Secretary Mauney had a point. "Let's hear Secretary Mauney" – he nodded at the secretary of state – "and then we'll hear from Secretary Lopez." Another nod at the secretary of defense. "Secretary Mauney?"
"Thank you, Mr. President. As you know, the State Department has always opposed Operation Undercover as being too risky to our security interests. The idea of slipping an American submarine into the Black Sea to attack an unarmed Russian freighter seems preposterous. If the attack were exposed to the world, we'd look like the Germans sinking the Lusitania. Who would suspect plutonium was on that freighter?
"The State Department has also opposed Operation Fortify, our combined air and ground operations in Turkey and Georgia.
"As you know, my concern with Operation Fortify was the very close and dangerous proximity of armed American and Russian forces.
"Now we have American planes and Russian planes shooting at each other. One Russian pilot is dead. Another is in our custody."
The Secretary of State held up a document. "One hour ago, Mr. President, our ambassador to the United Nations received this from the Russian ambassador. The Russians plan to introduce this resolution to the Security Council in New York for debate later today. They are requesting that the Council adopt it."
Resolved: The Government of the Russian Republic calls upon the Security Council to adopt this resolution condemning the United States of America for its unwarranted and unprovoked attack on aircraft of the Russian Air Force, who were operating peacefully within the borders of the Russian Republic at the time of the attack.
The Security Council demands the immediate release of the innocent and captured Russian pilot, namely Captain Alexander Giorsky, who was piloting his aircraft in Russian airspace, over the Russian Republic of Chechnya at the time of this unwarranted and unprovoked attack.
The Security Council further condemns the United States for the death of Junior Lieutenant Staas Budarin and calls upon the United States to immediately pay reparations in the amount of ten million American dollars to Lieutenant Budarin's widow and to establish a trust fund endowed with ten million American dollars for the benefit of Lieutenant Budarin's unborn child.
Furthermore, the government of the Russian Republic considers the firing of missiles into its territory by any foreign power to be an aggressive and unsubstantiated act of aggression. Any further attacks by the United States of America on Russian territory will be considered to be an act of war under international law.
Stunned silence swept the room. The secretary of state had gotten the group's attention. Only the secretary of defense looked unimpressed.
"Consider our predicament, Mr. President. We shoot down two of their planes, capture one of their pilots, and we are darn lucky, frankly, that we are not already at war.
"Think how bad this gets if we sink a civilian freighter and are discovered." There were no comments. "It's not too late to stop this, Mr. President. Please, sir, I urge you to do just that." The secretary of state had finished his plea.
"Anybody?"
"Secretary Mauney makes some good points, Mr. President, " Vice President Douglas Surber said.
"Maybe we should rethink this, sir." This was National Security Adviser Cynthia Hewitt.
Others nodded their heads.
Mack eyed his chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Admiral John F. Ayers, who sat across the table, resplendent in his Navy service dress blue uniform, complete with rows of red, green, pink, and blue ser vice ribbons.
"Admiral Ayers, what's your take on all this?"
Ayers looked at the secretary of defense, then back at the president. "Mr. President, I'm no politician. I'm just an ole sea dog who's done his best to serve his country. I will say now what I've said before. If we can locate that freighter, we can send her to the bottom of the sea. And if she's got plutonium on board, we'll send that to the bottom of the ocean too. But if you're asking me to comment on a political strategy, sir, I'd have to defer to the secretary of defense on that one."
"Fair enough." Mack nodded at Secretary Erwin Lopez. "Mr. Secretary, do you concede that the secretary of state makes some good points? Should we rethink this?"
The secretary of defense inhaled deeply. "Mr. President, with all due respect to my friend the secretary of state, his points might be well-taken if" – Secretary Lopez held up his right index finger – "and I mean if the underlying facts were based on accurate information."
Lopez's black eyes scoured the room with a delightful satisfaction. Other Security Council members exchanged glances.
"But that declaration is based on bogus information. Our planes were defending the airspace of a United States ally, Georgia. Russian planes had invaded Georgian territory when we shot.
"This notion that we fired our missiles into Russian airspace is Soviet propaganda. These Russian planes were practically over Tbilisi, the capital city of Georgia, when this dogfight broke out." Secretary Lopez was now chopping his hand in the air, like a karate master about to smash a cinderblock.
"If anybody committed an act of war, it was the Russians. They sent armed mi
litary aircraft into a foreign nation without permission, and our radar tapes will prove that unequivocally!" A dramatic pause followed that statement. Lopez lowered his voice. "Mr. President, I say we welcome this debate before the Security Council. Our radar tapes will reveal the truth, that the Russians invaded Georgian airspace, when they clearly did not have overflight rights. This is a violation of one of the most basic principles of international law.
"We should draft a counter-resolution condemning the Russians, take the debate to the Security Council, display the radar tapes, and expose the truth for the world to see." The secretary sipped bottled water. "We cannot, and we should not, let the lies that the Russians are propagating deter us from this mission, which is crucial to the security of America and the free world. I urge you, Mr. President, stay the course. Do not be dissuaded. Do not be deterred."
Lopez's speech had been dramatic. Mack waited for a moment before turning back to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. "Admiral, where's the Honolulu at this time?"
"Mr. President, she's in the Black Sea positioned along the forty-fifth latitude. This is the northwestern sector of the Black Sea – one of the narrowest sections. If you trace a line along the forty-fifth parallel, it's approximately one hundred eighty miles from the Romanian coast in the west, to the Crimean Peninsula in the east. Honolulu is submerged right out there in the middle of this sector, about ninety miles from Romania and ninety miles from Sevastopol in Ukraine. Simply put, she's sitting right dab in the middle of the shipping lanes headed northeast to Odessa, where we think the freighter is headed."
"Thank you, Admiral." The president looked at the secretary of state.
"Secretary Mauney, Secretary Lopez disputes the truth of the Russian contentions, and suggests that we debate them about the merits of this, and that we move the Council for our own resolution condemning them. What are your thoughts on the secretary's proposal?"
The secretary of state poured a glass of ice water from one of the silver pitchers along the mahogany table. He took a long gulp, stalling long enough to collect his thoughts. He put the glass back down on the table, and then began speaking in soft tones.
"Mr. President, I don't doubt Secretary Lopez's sincerity. If the United States military has concluded that our planes never fired their missiles into Chechnya, and that the Russian planes were over Tbilisi when we shot them down, then I believe that the Russians are lying.
They have a long history of misinformation, going all the way back to before the Bolshevik Revolution.
"Therefore, I agree that we should challenge them in front of the Council and in front of the world on this point. And if you instruct me to do so, I will give Ambassador Ward her marching orders to challenge them at the Security Council, or if necessary, I will go to New York myself to debate the matter." Mauney closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Oh, and there's one other thing. I do recommend that we release the Russian pilot as a measure of good faith."
"Thank you, Mr. Secretary. I noticed you did not comment on the condemnation proposal, " the president said.
"That's where I may differ with the secretary of defense."
"You don't think we should condemn the Russians?" The president looked at him curiously.
"Mr. President, the Russians deserve condemnation for their actions. But the issue is whether we want to fan the flames by pushing for a resolution of condemnation. We should take the high road by exposing the truth without getting down in the sewer with them by arguing over condemnation resolutions.
"But whether we seek a condemnation resolution or not, I stand by my previous recommendation, sir, that we abort Operation Undercover as being too risky under the circumstances. Sir, if this goes afoul, it could trigger all-out war." The secretary took another drink from the glass as if it were all hard to swallow. He set the glass down and said nothing else.
"Anything else, Secretary Mauney?"
"No, sir, Mr. President. The decision is in your hands."
The National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency Fort Belvoir, Virginia
Kent Pendleton was taking a coffee break when the piercing staccato rang through the work areas.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Boss, you've gotta get in here!" Tommy Dinardo was yelling from the computer room.
The strident alarm meant that the computer on board one of the two satellites orbiting the earth over the western sector of the Black Sea had spotted a match.
"It's Redwood Two!" Dinardo was saying. "Check this out." Dinardo handed Kent a black-and-white photo that had been printed from the real-time feed from the satellite. "Computer's saying we've got a match."
Kent took the photo and compared it to one of the satellite photos taken of Alexander Popovich while she was in Sochi. The image of the ship at Sochi looked identical to the image of the ship plowing through the Black Sea.
"We've got a match!" Kent said. "Tommy, get the Pentagon on the line. Prepare to broadcast coordinates to the Honolulu."
"You've got it, boss!"
The White House Situation Room
Emergency meeting of the National Security Council
Mack pondered the words of his secretary of state, spoken just moments ago.
"Mr. President. The decision is in your hands."
The secretary was right. The decision was in his hands, and his hands only. If the Russians discovered that an American submarine attacked a civilian Russian freighter in the Black Sea, nuclear war could follow – especially on the heels of the two MiGs being shot down.
On the other hand, the plutonium on that ship could wind up in a nuclear bomb in Washington, or New York, or San Diego, or any other major American city.
This was a no-win situation. War now, or nuclear holocaust later, one or the other guaranteed.
He thought of his father, Colonel Manchester Elliot Williams, the man he had respected most in life. What would the colonel do?
The colonel would quote his favorite line from Douglas MacArthur. "In war there is no substitute for victory, that if you lose, the nation will be destroyed."
With all eyes boring on him, Mack silently prayed for wisdom. The more he prayed, the more MacArthur's words kept ringing in his ears.
If you lose, the nation will be destroyed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am reminded at this moment of the words of President Harry Truman, who said the buck stops here, and I also am reminded of the words of President Teddy Roosevelt, our youngest president, who spoke so eloquently of The Man in the Arena.
"Today, I feel like that man in the arena. It is a lonely feeling which carries awesome responsibility. But as President Truman said, the buck stops here.
"Our predicament is no easy one. Either way, we face the consequences of war and destruction. If we scrap Operation Undercover, as the secretary of state has suggested, millions could die from the weapons-grade plutonium that is now on the high seas and that is destined for the hands of terrorists.
"If we sink the Alexander Popovich and we are discovered, we face a dicey situation with Russia. As the secretary of state has pointed out, this is an explosive predicament that could lead to war.
"Some would call this a no-win situation.
"A number of years ago, I received some wise counsel by a Chris tian pastor who was a dear personal friend. It was a tough time in my life, and my friend was there for me every day.
"I don't remember everything that he told me during those dark days, but one thing that I'll never forget is this: He told me that our mantra for the day, for each and every day that we are given on this earth is to do the right thing.
"Do the right thing." His eyes swept the room. "And so I apply that mantra to the situation at hand. The first right thing to do is to expose the truth. So we will go to the UN Security Council with our radar tapes in hand, and we will expose the truth about what happened over the skies of Georgia. I will not allow Russian threats, based upon lies about this incident, to govern the course o
f my conduct as president.
"And then, there is a verse from the book of Proverbs that comes to mind. It goes something like this. 'You are a poor specimen if you cannot stand up to adversity.'
"This nation faces great adversity at this hour, even though most Americans outside the upper levels of Congress and the executive branch don't realize it. But I can tell you this. We will stand up to it. We will stand up to adversity and we will defeat it.
"The secretary of state shall have our ambassador to the United Nations challenge the Russians vigorously at the Security Council. The secretary of defense will provide the State Department with all radar tapes, and with all technical support necessary for presentations not only before the United Nations, but for purposes of immediate release to the press as well.
"Any questions so far?" Mack looked at the secretary of defense.
"Understood clearly, Mr. President. Secretary Mauney and his staff have our full cooperation."
"Good." Mack looked at his secretary of state. "Secretary Mauney, I've considered your recommendations on how to handle this matter before the UN and I value your input."
"Thank you, sir."
"Here's what we are going to do. First, I agree that seeking reciprocal sanctions against the Russians is not necessary."
Mack saw a relieved look on Robert Mauney's face.
"As far as the missing pilot goes, " the president continued, "I think we should return him."
Mauney exhaled.
"But not yet."
Mauney raised his eyebrow.
"The problem with an immediate release of that pilot is twofold. First, if we release that pilot, we appear to authenticate to the rest of the world the Russians' version that we shot into their territory."
"Good point, Mr. President, " the secretary of state conceded.
"Secondly, Russians flew warplanes over Georgia. There must be some consequences. If we simply turn the pilot over, what deters them from doing it again?"