Putin's Gambit

by Lou Dobbs

  He started to hand out specific assignments. Armor officers were to focus on moving their tanks and supply vehicles into position; the infantry would support them and set up forward operating bases in southern Lithuania. It looked like the U.S. was going to cede a lot of the country to the Russians before any fighting. At least they intended to fight.

  Finally the general turned toward Shepherd and the other eleven marine officers sitting near the front. “You marines are going to deploy ASAP and meet up with some of the Estonian troops you trained with over the past six months. You are to disrupt the Russian supply chain and make them think twice about advancing. I don’t care if you slow them with shoulder-fired missiles or mines, or by destroying roads and bridges, your main objective is to buy us time. Is that understood?”

  As one, without meaning to, all the marine officers shouted, “Sir, yes, sir.”

  It gave Shepherd chills and made him proud at the same time.

  After the briefing, as he was racing to where his platoons were gathering, the colonel caught up with him.

  “You straight on this, Major?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You will be with your units at the tip of the spear. Probably before we have much support for you. Pick your spots and do what you can to slow them down. We intend to drop you and your Estonian partners near a rail line we believe they will use to move supplies. There’s no telling what the president and Congress will decide to do, and I don’t want a truckload of marine casualties if we’re just giving away the whole country anyway. Be smart. Hit and move. No stand-up fights. Is that clear?”

  “As crystal, sir.”

  Now, getting ready to fly to a war zone, Shepherd was trying to understand all the factors that typically went into a fluid battle situation. The reports were still sketchy, but it was clear that Russian armor and a long supply convoy had crossed the Narva River and were moving out along the highway system in Estonia. This was one of numerous training scenarios they had considered over the past couple of years. They had war-gamed what would happen if Russia invaded Belarus, Estonia, and a number of other NATO allies. Now that this had happened, the problem of transporting artillery and tanks to the front line became much more than academic. Train lines had always been a key to moving armor a long distance, but this fight could be reached by moving some of the tanks at top speed through Poland and into Estonia. That would take time, and it would be up to his marines and airpower to slow down the invasion.

  Shepherd’s commanding officer, a very fit colonel who had served in both Iraq wars, jumped into the Black Hawk and sat on the bench next to him. Their headphones connected to each other and allowed them to speak in a reasonable tone over the growing noise of the rotors and equipment being moved across the tarmac.

  Shepherd said, “Colonel, I have to tell someone that I wonder if my incident with the Frenchwoman and the terrorists is somehow related to this Russian move into Estonia.”

  The colonel, who had always been somewhat informal, looked at him and said, “No shit.”

  Shepherd had to smile and added, “I just thought someone should consider it. It sounds like you already have.”

  “Not just me. I was just reading an intelligence report linking all of the lone wolf terror attacks, as well as some of the financial market problems, to some sort of scheme to distract the West as Russia gobbled up Estonia. I think the intel boys are a little embarrassed they didn’t pick up on this sooner.”

  Shepherd considered this and wished he could call Mike Rosenberg back. He had texted him that he was safe and thanked him for the warning, but they hadn’t been able to speak because things happened so quickly.

  This mission would be his chance to make up for his poor judgment with Fannie Legat. But it was also his chance to be what he had trained for most of his adult life: a U.S. Marine in combat.

  *

  Anton Severov bounced in the main hatch of the tank as it moved along the edge of the road. He continued to stare at Amir just so the Iranian didn’t think he was getting away with anything. Then the column came to a halt, and commanders were called to a briefing being held under the awning of a closed souvenir shop on the edge of the road. Severov hopped off the tank and trotted along, hoping the column didn’t stay stationary for long. It seemed like he was the only one nervous about a counteroffensive by NATO.

  He slowed before he reached the giant awning, which provided shade to the entire group. They were roughly twenty-five officers facing the general and four of his junior staff. Severov noticed the nod the general gave him as he stepped into the shade of the awning, brushing some dust off the breast of his tunic.

  Three vehicles parked next to the building told Severov everything he needed to know. Two Kurganets-25 fighting vehicles, modified for command and control with extra radio and satellite capabilities, had to belong to the general. But it was the vehicle next to the armored personnel carriers that caught his attention. He noticed other tank commanders staring at it as well. It was a T-14 Armata tank with a 125 mm main gun and the sleek design of a modern mechanized predator. It took Severov’s breath away for a moment. Why weren’t they using these as main combat vehicles? Why was the only one he had seen in the field assigned to protect a general? These were questions he intended to ask later.

  The general stepped up and addressed the crowd, taking everyone’s attention away from the remarkable tank.

  “Gentlemen, we have made significant progress. All of you worked very hard and overcame tremendous obstacles to make this happen. I can assure you this meeting is not wasted time. While we are stopped, your men are being fed and as many vehicles as possible are being fueled. I just wanted to give you an overall view of the operation and what to expect going forward.” One of the aides moved a map of Estonia closer to the general. The general pointed with his left index finger at their approximate location. “It’s true that we got a late start, but we are already this far into the country and have met no resistance, with our supplies coming across the river and following behind the main column and by rail. We have scouts out ahead of us, and now more fighters are being launched to give us excellent air cover. There are a few reports of Black Hawk helicopters landing, but we have no information about what that means. The official NATO response has been a few nuisance air attacks with their forward-based F-16s.

  “From the beginning, the idea was to follow our Crimea strategy and enter the country with as little fanfare as possible. With the West occupied by minor terror attacks and a financial crisis, it seems unlikely that they will put up much of a fight for a country with such strong former ties with Russia. We can justify anything we do by the number of Russian speakers living in the country. Our goal is to reach the far border. At that point it will be decided if we go further or fortify our position.”

  The general stepped away from the map and tried to adopt a casual pose as he addressed the majors and colonels assembled in front of him. “This is a golden time for Russia as we finally start to expand our influence again. Estonia offers us a strategic foothold back into Eastern Europe as well as a remarkable infrastructure and resource for technology. We must be careful not to cause collateral damage and incite the population against us. We hope to control the country like any other republic. We want them to be proud to be part of the new Russian Empire. That’s one of the reasons we’re not rolling across their fields and destroying their farms. We have men ahead of us diverting traffic, keeping the road open, and we hope to complete our mission without causing much damage. That being said, if we do meet resistance from NATO or even partisans, we will take all action necessary to eliminate the threat. Is that clearly understood?”

  Severov answered with the rest of them with a loud “Yes, sir.”

  *

  As Joseph Katazin drove toward the Wall Street area in his BMW, he didn’t know where Derek Walsh was at the moment, but he knew where he’d be some time this morning. He had been chasing the former marine when there were other things he should’v
e been doing, but eliminating Walsh solved a lot of potential problems. It would remove a link to him and slow down the FBI investigation. It would also protect the asset he had used to help on this operation. Those were both vital. He also had a personal stake in dealing with Walsh. The man had outwitted him and forced him to kill the lovely Alena. He had to pay.

  Katazin picked up his new employee, Jerry, and after a few minutes of futile conversation with the muscular dullard he decided the man was expendable if it should come to that later in the day. The steroid freak sat silently in the passenger seat, occasionally perking up at the sight of an attractive woman on the sidewalk.

  Jerry was in his early thirties and stood just over six feet with broad shoulders and a tattoo that skittered up from below the collar of his shirt. He wore a heavy plaid shirt as protection against the cooling temperatures and as a way to hide the Ruger 9 mm he had stuffed in his belt. No doubt the muscle-head would come in handy if things turned sour later in the day. At least he wasn’t currently having to help Katazin dispose of his wife’s body. The farther Katazin got from the house the better he felt about his decision. He had grabbed a small duffel bag and filled it with the important things from around his house, including some cash and photos, several of his daughter and one of the family at Christmas. It wouldn’t be safe to go back there after today.

  He stopped at a coffee shop near his office and left Jerry in the front seat of the car. He didn’t need company today, especially from a big lump like Jerry. As he sat at the counter, composing his order for coffee and doughnuts, he glanced up at the TV and saw a special report on CNN. The closed captioning told him everything he needed to know as he saw file footage of Russian tanks. Russia had crossed the border in force and was now invading Estonia. It was unclear what NATO would do, but at least it told him his plan had worked well enough for the military to move forward with its part of the operation. He felt a warm wave wash through him and realized it was a combination of pride and patriotism. Things would never be the same. At least for him. Now he was about to work on an entirely new life.

  Perhaps a Russian life.

  *

  Severov considered the briefing he had just received and decided he needed to keep track of every detail possible as the column moved closer to potential combat. He had the driver pull their T-90 directly behind the truck where Amir sat among thirty other men. They were essentially all Muslim conscripts, as well as a man suspected of being a homosexual whom they rounded up out of convenience instead of suspicion of being part of the demonstration. All of the men looked sullen, and most of them probably realized things were not going to go well for them whether they were involved in any revolt or not.

  Severov had often considered how the accused were treated in the Russian military. Especially the Muslims. It was no wonder there were regular uprisings in some of the largely Muslim republics. They were considered criminals who must prove their loyalty instead of loyal citizens who must be proved to have participated in criminal activity. No one in authority seemed to care about the distinction, and the truckload of men in front of him told Severov that things were only going to get worse.

  Before he could consider the serious implications of his line of thought, Severov heard the sound of jet engines in front of him. He scrambled to lift the binoculars hanging around his neck and get a look at what was making the roar in the sky. He hoped it was just Russian jets they had brought up as support. The giant fireball that filled the lenses of his binoculars confirmed his worst fear as he tracked the dot in the sky and could just make out U.S. markings on the wings. One of their forward attack F-16s had just devastated the road in front of them. God knew how many men perished in the swirling inferno that was already fading back to just a small fire in the road.

  The action had stirred the men in the truck in front of Severov. Some leaned out to try to get a view while others started to pray. Severov understood the reasoning behind both courses of action. Unfortunately, if the Americans decided to work their way down the line, neither praying nor having a good view would save your life.

  Someone in the Russian high command had misjudged what the U.S. and NATO would do in response to the invasion. The question now was, would this be enough to stop the Russian juggernaut? Severov was prepared for combat and even to give his life for Mother Russia if necessary. He wondered how many other men traveling with him felt the same way. This attack would give the commanders pause and slow everything down.

  Exactly what the Americans wanted to happen.

  *

  It’d taken some fast talking, but Derek Walsh had convinced Tonya Stratford to let Charlie walk away from the front of her brownstone. Walsh gave him twenty dollars to find his way back to Manhattan and grab something to eat. Then he had turned his attention to convincing the FBI agent she had to get him into Thomas Brothers Financial.

  She turned her dark eyes toward him and said, “This goes against everything my partners and I have been discussing for the past few days. You need to be in custody, not dragging me into your own investigation.”

  “You know I might be onto something or you wouldn’t even be considering it. Just twenty minutes in the office. I’ve explained what I want and why I have to do it myself. I trust you enough to have surrendered. Show me a little consideration. This conspiracy could be big. I want to help.”

  “What if it turns out that there’s nothing to your story at all?”

  “Then you charge me. I’m not sure with what charges, but I’ll accept them.”

  Agent Stratford said, “I have an indictment we’ve been working on. Right off the top of my head we’d hit you with fraud by wire and then the good old standard, U.S. Code 18.656—theft and embezzlement. You see, it’s always better to make an arrest first, then add on charges. We’re considering some kind of treason charge if it turns out you knowingly helped enemies of the country. I don’t know any of the statute codes on that because I’ve never investigated a case of treason. My partner, Frank, would add on a dozen more charges if he got the chance.”

  Walsh held up his hands and said, “Just check out what I’m saying and we might save you a lot of trouble. If I’m wrong, you lose nothing and I go to jail. Considering how much work someone put into this scheme, I’ll be happy to not be dead.” He kept a steady gaze on her.

  “You haven’t told me where the security plug is.”

  “You haven’t told me you’re going to go along with my plan yet.”

  “Smooth. And after what happened with the Russians, I can understand your concerns. But I need some assurances I will get some return on my risk.”

  “What assurances would you like?”

  “You get one chance to pull up the photos from your security plug. After that, if it doesn’t work, you cooperate fully with me.”

  “I thought I was cooperating fully.”

  “We’ll get in there about eight thirty, before the bulk of the other FBI agents show up but not too early to raise suspicions.”

  “I like this plan. It’s the first plan I’ve liked since this all started.”

  “You better hope it works out.”

  Walsh knew the FBI agent had no idea how much he hoped it would work out.

  39

  Sitting on the cupola of his tank, staring to the horizon, Anton Severov realized there was no secrecy left and the Russian military presence in Estonia was now worldwide news. That fact was reinforced by several squadrons of Russian-made MiG fighters roaring ahead of them to clear out any NATO air threat. The earlier strike had taken out four tanks and two supply trucks. When they rolled the burning remains of the vehicles off the road, Severov caught the unmistakable stench of burned flesh. There were three bodies near the truck, but no other human remains were obvious. He could tell by the demeanor of the men in the truck ahead of him that it had a severe effect on morale. He could fight toe-to-toe with tanks, but they were woefully unprepared to handle air strikes without the assistance of the Russian air force.

&n
bsp; Severov still viewed the field from the top of his tank, confident that the NATO forces had not put snipers in the field yet. It also gave him a chance to keep an eye on Amir, who was still sitting in the rear of the truck directly in front of him. He leaned on the Kord heavy machine gun, making sure the belt-fed 12.7 mm ammo was seated properly in the receiver. If something did happen, he could bring the Russian-made gun on target in a matter of seconds.

  Far in the distance ahead of them, he saw flashes in the sky and realized it meant the Russian jets were engaging NATO jets in air-to-air combat. This was quickly escalating more than any of his comrades had thought it would.

  Was Estonia really worth another war?

  *

  Major Bill Shepherd checked his watch and then the gear strapped to his back and sides. It was midafternoon when the Black Hawks set down outside Mustvee, Estonia, on the banks of Lake Peipus. Shepherd looked over the tiny town of fewer than two thousand residents, who were not prepared to see U.S. Marines spreading out near the highway that passed through it. He hoped the quaint town would be spared any damage, but experience told him that wouldn’t be the case. Reports had the bulk of the Russian force on this highway, with the lake on their left.

  His force of about eighty marines had taken on twenty-two Estonian soldiers, who carried shoulder-fired rocket launchers and some C-4. They split into ten groups, each armed with a variety of portable weapons designed to slow down the tanks. Without a screening force of infantry in front of them, the tanks were vulnerable to small arms and rocket fire. Despite what he’d been told by the colonel, Shepherd decided to go with one of the teams. He didn’t want to say he missed the opening shots of World War III. He also felt the younger men would benefit from the presence of a senior, battle-tested officer. At least that’s what he intended to tell his superiors if anyone got their panties in a bunch that he was out here.