Our Next Great War

by Martin Archer

  Basilof must have mentioned my name when he told Karatonov because the good general responded with such an incredulous double take that it would have won an award in a Hollywood comedy. I smiled at him encouragingly. Damn, I’d like to get this guy into a poker game.

  Within minutes things got deadly serious as the visibly shocked airborne general and his now equally shocked deputy stood in front of the map as Danovsky explained what he and his men were to do when they reached Chita and why. Then Danovsky gestured towards us and said something that wasn’t translated.

  I don’t know what he said, but Karatonov and his chief of staff, a colonel whose name I never did get, turned towards me, came rigidly to attention and saluted, and then turned back to Danovsky.

  Constantly clenching and unclenching his fists the now grimly determined Russian paratrooper general and his equally grim and determined deputy stood with us around a map table and listened intently as Danovsky discussed how Chita might be attacked by the Chinese and defended by their men.

  It was unspoken but everyone in the room understood that the future of Russia’s eastern territories, the entire eastern half of Russia, may well hinge on how well their men fought. Chita and its airfield must be held at all costs. It not only sat astride the Trans-Siberian Railroad, but also the road system along the border and the only road through the mountains and into the north towards Tynda, Magadan, the Bering Sea, and Alaska.

  Danovsky and the two Russians listened even more intently when I introduced Captain Shapiro as a Marine officer “who had been in the middle of the fight and wounded when your paratroopers dropped on the NATO headquarters.” Shapiro described the battle from the American perspective, including the initial failure of the American and Belgian fighter planes to intercept them.

  “The two important things,” Shapiro told them, “are to make sure your men have more than enough ammunition to kill the people coming down in parachutes before they have a chance to get organized, and that your men not get caught out in the open, particularly on the runway and the flat areas around it. It’s a death trap from small arms fire with no place to hide.”

  Then he explained.

  “Our perimeter circled the headquarters about two hundred yards out. And our little two man holes with the shoulder level sandbags around each of them and lots and lots of ammunition made all the difference in the world; we could fire up at the men in the air and through gaps in the sandbags when they were on the ground with nowhere to hide.”

  The Russians listen intently as Basilof simultaneously translated what Shapiro was saying. They paid particular attention to what Shapiro described as “our big mistake:” locating the Marines with hand held SAMs too close to the ring of troops around the headquarters and the headquarters not having any vehicle mounted missile defense systems on the approaches to it.

  “The troop transports were already dropping their paratroopers by the time they were in range of our handheld SAMs,” Shapiro tells the Russians. “We should have located the SAM teams much further out to hit the transports before your parachutists jumped.”

  Hmm. I wonder if the Chinese know what went wrong for the Russians at Brussels and will learn from it. I’d better ask Bill Hammond to have NSA run a search of their Chinese tapes to see if anyone mentions the Russian attack on Brussels. And I must remember to talk to General Goldman about the Russian air defenses and strategy; we haven’t looked into that enough.

  Lindauer pulled me aside while we were waiting for our ride back to the airplane. He told me he’d just listened to Moscow Radio explaining the Chinese threat and America’s assistance. He was really pissed.

  It seems Radio Moscow is reporting that the Russians were winning the war against the fascist Turks when the every watchful Foreign Intelligence Service discovered the Chinese were planning a sneak attack on Russia. America was so desperate for peace because the Russian troops were winning that it agreed to stop helping the Turks and to pay reparations and help Russia fight the Chinese.

  “What these cocksuckers are doing is using you and me and the aid we’re sending them as living proof that they won the goddamned war they lost.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “It’s a really stupid thing for Moscow to say it and it’s a great excuse for us to tell the Russians to go fuck themselves and go home. On the other hand, it might be that the Chinese are doing to the Russians the same thing we did to them when we published the articles with the fake research results. Eh?”

  Lindauer’s eyes get wider and wider as I told him how we had gotten articles published in Russia that conned the Russians into not using their hand-held SAMs and not firing on the American and Turkish motorcycle skirmishers. What I didn’t tell him is how we worked with the British Intelligence to con the Russians into starting their attack on our two headquarters early so we could destroy their air force and get our special operations teams and swimmers inserted before they had a chance to stop them. The fewer people who know about that, the better.

  I could see from the expression on Colonel Lindauer’s face that the idea this might be a Chinese deception operation really got to him. What I didn’t mention, but think is equally possible, is that it might be a German or Turkish operation designed to make it politically impossible for the United States and its allies to continue helping the Russians.

  Then I send an encrypted message to Bill Hammond asking if there was any indication that the Russian television broadcast might be a Chinese, German, or Turkish disinformation operation designed to make us stop helping the Russians. I was pretty sure Colonel Lindauer would be sending a similar message to the CIA.

  ******

  Everyone was exhausted by the time the Starlifter lifted off to carry us back to Khabarovsk. I couldn’t help it; I fell asleep as soon as I sent the message to Hammond inquiring about a possible Chinese disinformation operation via Russian radio.

  Sergeant Teniers nudged me awake when we were about to land in Kharbarovsk an hour or so later. “Here’s some coffee, Sir. We’re about to land.” I really had a strange dream. But, as usual, I couldn’t remember it.

  The Starlifter’s tires squealed as we touched down and I suddenly became wide awake and anxious to get off the plane—I could see a lot of Jeeps and cars through the porthole windows as the portable stairs were being pushed into place so we can deplane. Turpin himself was waiting at the foot of the ladder with a lot of armed soldiers. Something’s up.

  Danovsky deplaned first and was instantly surrounded by armed guards and hustled to a waiting car with Turpin waving his arms and talking to him. It roared away as soon as he and Turpin got in. Oh oh.

  We waited anxiously on the tarmac while Colonel Lindauer trotted over to the airfield offices to find out what the hell was going on. He came back empty handed—no one knew anything. Even so, I decided to keep everyone together and wait in the plane.

  Two hours later we were still inside the Starlifter and killing time by brainstorming possible Russian responses to the Chinese invasion. That’s when Basilof drove up and leaped out of the Jeep he was driving and ran up the stairs three steps at a time. He moved so fast that the Marine guards at the door started to raise their weapons. Basilof saw their alarm and came through the door with hands held shoulder high and obviously excited.

  “General,” he began…

  ******

  A couple of minutes later the situation had become much clearer. There was some kind of a coup underway in Moscow and another attempt to replace Danovsky with a political officer was expected.

  Most amazing of all, according to Basilof, was that the coup is actually being covered live by Russian television. It was a first. So Charlie, Lindauer, and I piled into Basilof’s Jeep and headed off with him to the rooms that have been permanently assigned to us in the best of Kharbarovsk’s rundown hotels.

  We never have been able to get the 1950s style television set in my room to work so we went next door and barged in on Woods and Goldman. Their set was working, and there
it was live in flickering black and white.

  Basilof gave us a running account. It seems that a group of hard line former communists have arrested Gerasinov, the new Russian President, at his seaside vacation home and their leaders are now barricaded in the Russian parliament building which has been surrounded by tanks manned by troops loyal to the President.

  If I understood Basilof correctly, troops in units whose officers were loyal to the hardliners in the Russian parliament have the Russian President’s vacation home surrounded and troops loyal to the President’s supporters in the army have the coup leaders surrounded in the Russian parliament building. Damn, it’s a Mexican standoff if there ever was one. I wonder what it will mean for the war effort.

  “President Gerasinov made a big mistake,” Basilof explained. “He called for loosening the government's control over the economy and for negotiations with the Chinese. The leaders of the coup are afraid they will lose their privileges and the Chinese will end up with some of our land.”

  What surprised me was that Basilof seemed to be more surprised and excited by the TV coverage than he was that there was a coup attempt underway and that General Danovsky and the war effort might be in danger.

  Coverage about the coup on Russian television seemed pretty mundane with a well dressed pretty young woman talking with great excitement into a microphone and periodically gesturing towards the parliament building across the way and the tanks that were surrounding it—while everyone else stood around with blank looks on their bored faces and periodically interviewed other media people who had nothing to add. It could have been a CNN broadcast.

  Then everything changed. All of a sudden the tank crews disappeared into their tanks and closed their hatches. A few seconds later one of the tanks rocked back on its springs and its gun puffed a perfect smoke ring as it fired. Jesus Dick. Basilof gasped out loud and someone behind me said "holy shit."

  A corner of Russian Parliament building suddenly exploded and fell away. Then two more tanks fire almost simultaneously. There was much running around in the open area in front of the building as pedestrians and onlookers began running for safety. I didn’t see any return fire, but there may be some since some of the onlookers suddenly dashed to get behind the tanks and the others ran.

  “What does this mean for General Danovsky?” I asked a shaken Basilof a few minutes later in the relative privacy of my own almost certainly bugged room. I was there with Charlie Safford and a couple of our aides, Captains Shapiro and Carpenter.

  “Those people in the building think General Danovsky supports the President, so they will try to replace him if they win. I think, perhaps, it will depend on who the Foreign Intelligence Service supports. We have our own troops, you know.” Then he realized what he just said and shrugged his shoulders.

  “I think we need to talk to General Danovsky,” I said to Charlie. Or maybe we should head to the airport and get the hell out of Dodge.

  Basilof nodded and we started towards the door. But after a few steps, I turned around and rustled through the little gym bag carrying my toilet kit and clean underwear. Then I stuck the little pistol I’d grabbed in my belt behind my back and tug my Russian windbreaker down over it.

  Charlie Safford saw what I’m doing and raised his eyebrows in a question. I shrugged and gave a little nod.

  ******

  All of us crowded into Basilof’s Jeep, even Charlie who had to run to his own room to get a jacket. Rank has its privileges so I sat in front with Basilof and the other two sat in the back. The streets didn’t seem as busy as usual but nothing seemed out of order as we pulled up to the front of the headquarters and parked.

  General Danovsky was in a meeting and we were not expected. So we pulled up chairs in the lobby of his office and waited along with two quietly talking groups of officers who have obviously arrived for Danovsky’s next appointments.

  I recognized several of them and nodded and they nodded back. Basilof said something genial to two of the senior colonels who were chatting together in low voices and they smiled in agreement as they replied. Everything felt normal.

  Then it dawned on me. These guys have been waiting here for Danovsky and don’t know about the coup. Does he? He must. That’s undoubtedly why Danovsky rushed off when we landed.

  We waited about half an hour and everything continued to seem as relaxed and normal as things might be at a headquarters preparing for an imminent war. Danovsky even came out when his visitors left and shook hands with everyone even though we’d just been with him on the Starlifter. He had obviously been informed by his receptionist that we were waiting

  Danovsky said he’d like to talk to us, but first he needed to talk to the people who had come in from the field to see him so they could return to their units and get to back to work. He smile at them as he said it and they smiled back. Is there really a coup?

  “Yes, I know about the coup,” he volunteered a few minutes later when we were admitted to his office. He said it even before I had a chance to ask.

  Then he really surprised me. “The Patriarch is acting as an intermediary. He’s the only one both sides trust.”

  “The word I just received from a friend in Moscow is that the conspirators are about to surrender. If the President is smart he’ll shoot them immediately. But he probably won’t if Patriarch Alexi is involved.”

  “Patriarch Alexi?” Who the hell is the Patriarch Alexi?

  “Patriarch Alexi of the Russian Orthodox Church,” Shokalov explained. “He was apparently out of the country making another visit to the United States, to your Alaska of all places. Aeroflot is sending a plane to Anchorage to fly him back according to the reports I received.”

  Basilof saw the questioning and uncertainty in everyone’s eyes and explained further.

  “Many Russian Orthodox people live in Alaska, you know—from the days when we owned Alaska. He has been there several times to meet the priests and visit the seminary.”

  Of course. I heard all about them from General Roberts. There is a Russian Orthodox seminary in Kodiak training priests. According to General Roberts, they are good people. They don’t get paid for being priests; they and their wives have to find jobs or fish commercially when they need cash. In the villages they live in the same housing as everyone else and subsist on whatever food and clothing their parishioners bring them as gifts. Even the bishop in Sitka lives in an old mobile home someone donated. They’re honest to a fault. People trust them.

  “Of course. You’re right; he’s believable and his involvement may save the rebels.” And I wonder if the Chinese have anything to do with the coup.

  “Yuri Andreovich, do you think the Chinese might somehow be behind the coup?”

  ******

  I quickly sent a message to Hammond informing him that, despite the distractions of the coup in Moscow and the possible threat to his personal safety, General Danovsky was continuing to respond very appropriately and fast to the new intelligence we have been providing.

  And Danovsky was moving fast: Rutman and Karatonov were already in the air flying to Chita and Turpin himself was at the Khabarovsk train station with some of Rutman’s officers to help speed up the movement of their armor units and the other units that were rushing to join them.

  A good part of the armor that had been deployed for behind-the-line raids was being recalled; but some of it had to be left in place because there was not enough time to retrieve it. Also being redeployed was a substantial portion of the armor and artillery at the chokepoints; they too were being reassigned to the Chita front.

  First to arrive of the additional units being sent to the Chita front would almost certainly be the naval infantry regiments presently coming north out of Vladisvostok, the Russian Marines. According to Danovsky, the trains and trucks carrying them would just roll right on through Khabarovsk and Podovsk and keep going until they reached the positions Rutman was in the process of setting up in across the river from the Chinese city of Manzhouli.

 
; Because of the mountain range separating China and Russia, the Manzhouli area is where the Chinese will have to cross the Amur if they are going for Chita—unless, of course, the Chinese have done a deal with Mongolia that we do not know about and can move their troops further west through Mongolia to hit the Russians even closer to Chita and Lake Baikal.

  Danovsky will be returning to Podovsk by himself sometime this evening or tomorrow morning. I won’t be with going him. I’ve just been handed a message ordering me to immediately return to the States for “consultations.”

  “Will they shoot you?” Danovsky inquired with a grin.

  ******

  Major Martin’s Starlifter was almost empty this time. Safford and everyone else, including the Gunny and his Marines to guard and assist them, were staying to work with the Russians. Even Ira Hanson and his signal warrant officers were staying.

  The only passengers were me and my three aides and one of our grimy and bearded Special Forces sergeants who somehow broke his leg while carrying ten and twenty dollar bills and food out to the Russian troops in the bush. The Russian medics put a splint on his leg and his buddies obviously held a farewell party for him and fixed him up with a bottle of vodka to keep it going.

  Sergeant First Class Tookens sang quite loudly during the takeoff but fell asleep almost immediately. He had a lousy singing voice like me; but what the hell, I like “You Are My Sunshine” so I sang along with him.

  As soon as we got airborne I sent off an encrypted message off to Bill Hammond telling him I was en route to Washington in the Starlifter and asking him about my recall.

  I also requested, just in case, that he have the satellites and NSA continually check out the Mongolian railroad and roads for any indications of troop movements towards the Russian border, particularly in the area south of Chita. I didn’t call Bill directly because it was the middle of the night in Washington. But sure enough, he called back within a few minutes of my message going out.