Clancy, Tom - Op Center 8 - Line of Control
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is to trust no one outside the group."
"Those are very good points and we'll have to talk about them," Hood
told her.
"There's something else we'll have to talk about, Paul," Coffey said.
"According to your file, the Free Kashmir Militia has acknowledged its
involvement with at least part of this attack and with all of the
previous attacks in Kashmir.
Striker will be helping self-professed terrorists. To say that leaves us
vulnerable legally is an understatement."
"That's absolute horse shit," Herbert said.
"The guys who blew my wife up are still hanging out in a rat hole in
Syria somewhere. Terrorists of warring nations don't get extradited.
And the guys who help terrorists don't even get their names in the
papers."
"That only happens to guerrillas who are sponsored by terrorist
nations," Coffey replied.
"The United States has a different form and level of accountability.
Even if Striker succeeds in getting the cell to Pakistan, India will be
within its rights to demand the extradition of everyone who had a hand
in the attack on the bazaar, on the SFF commandos, and in the escape.
If New Delhi can't get the FKM they will go after Striker."
"Lowell, India doesn't have any kind of moral high ground here," Herbert
said.
"They're planning a goddamn nuclear strike!"
"No, a rogue element in the government is apparently planning that,"
Coffey said.
"The lawful Indian government will have to disown them and prosecute
them as well."
The attorney rose angrily and got himself a cup of coffee.
He was a little calmer as he sat back down and took a sip.
Hood was silent. He looked at Herbert. The intelligence chief did not
like Lowell Coffey and his disgust with legal technicalities was well
known. Unfortunately, Hood could not afford to ignore what the attorney
had just said.
"Gentlemen?" August said.
"Go ahead. Colonel," Hood said.
"We are talking about a possible nuclear conflagration here," August
said.
"The normal rules do not seem to apply.
I'll poll the team if you'd like, but I'm willing to bet they say the
same thing I'm about to. Given the stakes, the down side is worth
risking."
Hood was about to thank him but the words snagged in his throat. Bob
Herbert did not have that problem.
"God bless you. Colonel August," Herbert said loudly as he glared across
the table at Coffey.
"Thank you. Bob," August said.
"Mr. Coffey? If it's any help. Striker can always pull a Lone Ranger on
the Pakistanis."
"Meaning what. Colonel?" Coffey asked.
"We can drop them off then ride into the sunset before they can even
thank or ID us," August said.
Herbert smiled. Hood did, too, but inside. His face was frozen by the
weight of the decision he would have to make.
"We'll get back to you later on all of this," Hood said.
"Colonel, I want to thank you."
"For what? Doing my job?"
"For your enthusiasm and courage," Hood said.
"They raise the bar for all of us."
"Thank you, sir," August said.
"Get some rest," Hood said. He clicked off the phone and looked across
the table.
"Bob, I want you to make sure we've got someone at the NRO watching the
Pakistani border. If a chopper does come looking for the cell we have to
be able to give Striker advance warning. I don't want them to be
mistaken for a hostile force and cut down."
Herbert nodded.
"Lowell, find me some legal grounds for doing this," Hood went on.
The attorney shook his head.
"There isn't anything," Coffey said.
"At least, nothing that will hold up in an international court."
"I don't need anything that will work in court," Hood said.
"I need a reason to keep Striker from being extradited if it comes to
that."
"Like claiming they were on a mission of mercy," Coffey said.
"Yeah," Herbert interjected.
"I'll bet we can find some UN peacekeeping status bullshit that would
qualify."
"Without informing the United Nations?" Coffey said.
"You know, Lowell, Bob may have something," Hood said.
"The secretary-general has emergency trusteeship powers that allow her
to declare a region 'at risk' in the event of an apparent and
overwhelming military threat. That gives her the right to send a
Security Council team to the region to investigate."
"I'm missing how that helps us," Coffey said.
"The team does not have to consist of sitting Security Council
personnel," Hood said.
"Just agents of Security Council nations." "Maybe," Coffey said.
"But no one will accept the presence of a team consisting solely of
Americans."
"It won't," Hood said.
"India's a member of the Security Council. And there are Indians out
there."
"Captain Nazir and Nanda Kumar," Herbert said.
"Her own countrymen."
"Exactly," Hood replied.
"Even if she's a hostile observer, at least she's present."
"Yeah. Since when does the Security Council agree on anything?" Liz
pointed out.
"We may have to bring Secretary-General Chatterjee in on this once
Striker is on the ground," Hood said.
"Then we'll tell her what we know."
"And what if she refuses to invoke her trusteeship powers?"
Coffey asked.
"She won't," Hood said.
"How can you be sure?" Coffey asked.
"Because we still have a press department," Hood said.
"And while we do, I'll make sure that every paper on earth knows that
Secretary-General Chatterjee did nothing while India prepared to launch
nuclear missiles at Pakistan. We'll see whose blood the world wants
then. Hers or Striker's."
I wouldn't bet the farm on that plan," Coffey warned.
Give me an option," Hood countered.
Coffey and Herbert agreed to have a look at the United Nations charter
and brief Hood. Hood agreed to hold off contacting Chatterjee. Herbert
left to follow up on the intel reports. Only Liz stayed behind with
Hood. Her hands were folded on the table and she was staring hard at
them.
"Problem, Liz?" Hood asked.
She looked at him.
"You've had some run-ins with Mala Chatterjee." "True," Hood said.
"But forcing her hand or embarrassing her is not on the agenda. I'm only
interested in protecting Striker."
"That isn't where I was going with this," she said.
"You fought with Chatterjee, you fought with Sharon, and you've shut Ann
Farris out." Her expression softened.
"She told me about what happened between you."
"Okay," Hood said with a trace of annoyance.
"What's your point?"
"I know what you think about psychobabble, Paul, but I want you to make
sure you keep all of this on an issues level," Liz said.
"You're under a lot of pressure from women.
Don't let that frustration get transferred from one woman to another to
another."
&nbs
p; Hood rose.
"I won't. I promise."
"I want to believe that," Liz said. She smiled.
"But right now you're pissed at me, too."
Hood stood there. Liz was right. His back was ramrod straight, his mouth
was a tight line, and his fingers were curled into fists. He let his
shoulders relax. He opened his hands. He looked down.
"Paul, it's my job to watch the people here and point out possible
problem spots," Liz said.
"That's all I'm doing. I'm not judging you. But you have been under a
lot of pressure since the UN situation. You're also tired. All I'm
trying to do is keep you the fair, even-handed guy I just saw working
things out between Bob Herbert and Lowell Coffey."
Hood smiled slightly.
"Thanks, Liz. I don't believe the secretary-general was in danger, but I
appreciate the headsup."
Liz gave him a reassuring pat on the arm and left the room.
Hood looked across the room at the crisis clock.
It was still blank. But inside, his own clock was ticking.
And the mainspring was wound every bit as tight as Liz had said.
Even so, he reminded himself that he was safe in Washington while Mike
Rodgers and Striker were heading into a region where their actions could
save or doom millions of lives--including their own.
Next to that, whatever pressure he was feeling was nothing-Nothing at
all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.
New Delhi, India Thursday, 2:06 p. m.
Sixty-nine-year-old Minister of Defense John Kabir sat in his
white-walled office. The two corridors of the Ministry of Defence
offices were part of the cabinet complex housed in the eighty-year-old
Parliament House Estate at 36 Gurdwara Rakabganj Road in New Delhi.
Outside a wall-length bank of open windows the bright afternoon sun
shone down on the extensive lawns, small artificial ponds, and
decorative stone fountains. The sounds of traffic were barely audible
beyond the high, ornamental red sandstone wall that enclosed the
sprawling complex. On the right side of the grounds Kabir could just see
the edge of one of the two houses of Parliament, the Lok Sabha, the
House of the People. On the other side of this ministry annex was the
Rajya Sabha, the Council of States. Unlike the representatives in the
Lok Sabha, which were elected by the people, the members of the Rajya
Sabha were either chosen by the president or selected by the legislative
assemblies of the nation's states.
Minister Kabir loved his nation and its government. But he no longer had
patience for it. The system had lost its way.
The white-haired official had just finished reading a secure e-mail
dispatch from Major Dev Puri on his army's movements into the mountains.
Puri and his people were front line veterans. They would succeed where
the SFF commandos had failed.
Kabir deleted the computer file then sat there reflecting on the
crossroads to which he had brought his nation. It would be either the
triumph or the downfall of his long career. It was a career that began
with his rise through the military to captain by the age of
thirty-seven. However, Kabir was frustrated by the weak social and
military programs of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi. He was particularly
upset when India defeated Pakistan in the 1971 war and failed to
absolutely solidify their hold on Kashmir by creating a demilitarized
zone beyond the line of control. He drew up a plan calling for a "zone
of security." He wanted to use the villages on the Pakistani side for
routine artillery, gunship, and bombing practice. He wanted to keep them
unoccupied. What was the purpose of winning a war if the victor could
not maintain security along its borders?
Not only was his plan rejected, but Captain Kabir was reprimanded by the
minister of defence. Kabir resigned and wrote a book, What Ails the
Irresolute Nation, which became a controversial best-seller. It was
followed by A Plan for Our Secure Future. Within three months of the
publication of the second book he was asked to become general secretary
of the Samyukta Socialist Party. Within three years he was chairman of
the national Socialist Party. At the same time he was appointed
president of the All India Truckers' Federation.
He led a strike in 1974 that crippled the highways and even railroad
crossings, where trucks "broke down."
That helped to trigger the establishment of Prime Minister Gandhi's
"Emergency" in June 1975. That declaration enabled her to suspend civil
liberties and incarcerate her foes.
Kabir was arrested and held in prison for over a year. That did not stop
him from campaigning for reform from his jail cell. Supported by union
members and by Russian-backed socialist groups, Kabir was pardoned. The
Russians in particular liked Kabir's advocacy of a stronger border
presence against China. Kabir drew on his widespread grassroots support
to have himself named deputy minister of industry.
He used that post to strengthen his support among the working castes
while restoring his ties to the military. That led to his appointment as
minister of Kashmir affairs and his membership on the Committee on
External Affairs. That was where he became good friends with Dilip
Sahani. Sahani was the officer in charge of the Special Frontier Force
in Kashmir.
The men discovered they had the same concerns regarding the threat posed
by both Islamic Fundamentalists and the nuclear research being conducted
by Pakistan.
Two years ago, high-ranking officers and government officials who
respected Kabir's Zone of Security plan got together and pressed the
prime minister to name him minister of defence. Kabir asked the national
commander of the SFF to come and work for him and then arranged for
Dilip Sahani to take over that post. Together, the men plotted in
secret.
New Delhi was content to build its own nuclear arsenal as a deterrent
and collect intelligence to assess the across-the border threat. Kabir
and Sahani were not. They wanted to make certain that Islamabad never
had the opportunity to mount the very real threat of a jihad of mass
destruction.
With the unwitting help of the FKM cell and a young member of the SFF's
Civilian Network Operatives, they were on the verge of realizing their
dream. If the field commandos had succeeded in their efforts to capture
and destroy the FKM, the goal would be just days if not hours away. Now
they had to wait.
Major Puri would not fail them. He would close in on the terrorist cell
and then kill them in a firefight. The CNO operative who was with them
would tell the story as she saw it from the inside. Even if she died in
the fight, she would reveal to Major Puri with her dying breath how the
FKM attacked the temple and the bus. How the lives of those Hindus were
the first sacrifices of the new jihad. The people of India would believe
her because in their hearts they knew she was telling the truth. Her
grieving grandfather would back up everything that she said. And then
the Indian governme
nt would respond.
Of course, the president and prime minister would attack Pakistan as
they usually did. With words. That was how nuclear powers were supposed
to act. If they replied with weapons the results would be unthinkable.
Or so the common wisdom went.
What the rest of the world did not realize was that Pakistan's leaders
were willing to endure annihilation. They would sacrifice their nation
if it meant the utter destruction of India and the Hindu people. Islam
would still have tens of millions of adherents. Their faith would
survive. And the dead of Pakistan would live on in Paradise.
Kabir was not going to give Pakistan the chance to attack India. He was,
however, perfectly willing to send them to Paradise. He intended to do
that with a preemptive strike.
The team that was in charge of the Underground Nuclear Command Center
was loyal to Minister Kabir. The key personnel had been carefully