Chapter 16 – Saturday, November 5th
Khabarovsk – 07:50 Local Time; Friday 21:50 UTC
The morning wasn’t quite going as Markova had anticipated: woken before dawn with a rough shake of her shoulder, she had been bemused to find herself wheeled to a waiting ambulance. The presence of two armed men – no uniforms – ensured she did little more than offer a verbal protest, her questions ignored, her angry look merely provoking mild amusement.
The drive lasted some twenty minutes, Markova taken to what looked to be another hospital, a little smaller but far smarter than the one in Khabarovsk. The main entrance was certainly impressive and arranged like a hotel foyer, with even a porter available to help people with their luggage.
Markova was anticipating a painful walk, but to her surprise a wheelchair and young nurse suddenly appeared, Markova pushed towards a line of elevators. Then it was up to the third floor and a single room, all white and clean. The nurse fussed around, checking everything, doing her best to protect Markova’s modesty from the idle gaze of the two guards.
Satisfied that everything was as it should be, the nurse left, a questioning gesture at the two guards implying that they should do the same. To Markova’s surprise, they did as the nurse wanted, one making it obvious he was seating himself outside.
Overall, despite the unknowns, Markova felt the transfer to be an improvement, with the noisy night-time routine of the hospital ward replaced by a slightly disconcerting silence. She was now dressed in the standard hospital gown, the left side of her body badly bruised. No drips or tubes, merely a sensor on her fingertip; physically, she didn’t feel that bad, just a raging headache and a twinge every time she breathed.
Markova forced herself to a sitting position, wanting to get her brain into gear before someone started asking difficult questions. Twenty minutes after the nurse left, a light breakfast turned up; then a doctor arrived to give her a more thorough check.
X-rays and a brain scan were back on the morning’s agenda, the doctor fairly confident that all she had was a minor concussion and some fractured ribs. Markova tried to get some more information on the attacks but the doctor simply shook her head, nodding towards the closed door and the guard beyond.
It was another hour before someone more talkative chose to visit, the man’s FSB uniform a match to the one Markova had discarded in Saint Petersburg, even down to the two thin stripes and single large star of a major.
“Good morning Major Markova; my name is Yashkin, Investigation Directorate. I’m sorry that we finally get to meet under such circumstances.” The tone was polite, almost cautious; Yashkin as wary of Markova as she was of him.
“It’s hardly your fault, Major,” replied Markova, forcing a smile. “What exactly happened yesterday?”
“Chinese artillery; twenty-three killed at the last count. Perhaps you should have stayed in Moscow; it might have been safer.”
“Saint Petersburg,” Markova corrected. “I outstayed my welcome in Moscow a while ago.”
“And now you’re wanted as an accessory to General Grebeshkov’s murder: we are all taking risks here.”
Markova didn’t quite know what to say; Major Yashkin was supposed to be an ally, a Lubyanka graduate and no friend to Golubeva.
“I understand,” continued Yashkin, “that you are concerned as to the health of Sergeant Nechayev. Fortunately, you Alpha Group are not that easy to kill and he suffered nothing more than a few bruises. If you had contacted me when you had arrived in Khabarovsk rather than when you needed my help, we might all have saved ourselves a sleepless night.”
“For that I apologise,” Markova said, trying to be gracious. She all-too obviously needed Yashkin’s goodwill and at the moment they weren’t getting on that well. “Where are we exactly?”
“It’s a small clinic to the north-east of Khabarovsk. Under the circumstances it seemed wise to move you to a more secure location.”
“It’s definitely secure,” said Markova, nodding towards the guard outside to make the point.
“For your protection, as well as mine; it would be foolish not to take certain precautions… What exactly do you expect to find in Khabarovsk, Major?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. Roads closed without warning, phones not working. Now the Chinese shell the city. I assume none of that’s normal?”
Yashkin actually managed a smile. “Perhaps things have changed since you lived in Khabarovsk but this is an army city. The FSB can’t operate without the army’s support and so we stay out of their business. Self-preservation becomes a powerful incentive: they close a road and we follow the diversions like everyone else, no questions asked. It’s the same in Vladivostok, more so over the last month.”
“But why shell Khabarovsk? The Chinese must know we’ll respond in kind.”
“I guess it’s a warning,” Yashkin said with a shrug. “Our generals have been playing at war games for weeks and Beijing’s obviously got nervous as to what we might do next.”
“A warning which is totally counter-productive; all it does is give Golubeva the excuse she needs to join America in a war against China.”
Yashkin frowned, unconvinced, “You really believe that’s what she wants? We’d be better off letting the two of them slug it out first.”
“Russia and America would both have to fight China eventually; Golubeva’s just making sure it’s together and on her terms. Throw in Vietnam, the Philippines, and maybe Taiwan as well, and China will soon have to back down. Either that or it escalates into nuclear annihilation.”
“Cavanagh will never ally the United States with Russia,” argued Yashkin. “It’s barely a year since we were at each other’s throats in the Baltic.”
“Circumstances change. And the way things are in Washington, Golubeva could soon be dealing with someone other than Cavanagh. If so, then war with China is inevitable.”
Yashkin rubbed his chin thoughtfully: simply by discussing such matters with Markova, he was already close to the crime of sedition.
“You may well be right, Major,” he said finally. “In which case, we need to work out how to help stop this madness.”
Eastern United States – 09:50 Local Time; 13:50 UTC
Virginia’s War Memorial stood proudly high up on the hill behind the assembled media, the hauntingly beautiful statue Memory looking out over the James River and the Richmond skyline, the early-morning sun hidden by dirty-grey clouds. Dick Thorn waited patiently for the retired General to finish his introduction, gaze wandering idly amongst the assembled guests and on to the essential TV cameras. The media hoped the Secretary of State’s speech to the American Legion would give some additional insight into the Administration’s response to China, the Richmond venue a reminder of the potential risks.
In front of Thorn were veterans from almost a dozen conflicts, and no matter what medals they wore, to him they were all heroes. Thorn had served as a Captain in the First Gulf War and sensed something of their sacrifice, downplaying his own contribution to the Coalition victory as minimal. A burst of applause, genuine rather than just polite, and Thorn moved to stand at the podium, warmly shaking the General’s hand in appreciation of the generous introduction.
Thorn followed protocol by thanking those that needed to be thanked, singling out the veterans for special praise. It was then the turn of the American Legion and the thousands from Virginia who had given their lives in defence of their country. A gesture upwards and Thorn gave a heartfelt accolade to all those helping maintain such a wonderful memorial.
Thanks completed, it was now time for the real message, typically a history lesson on the external problems facing America and how the President was working hard to deal with them. Thorn was happy to stick with the expected format, although his history lesson might not be quite what his audience anticipated, and even his credentials were rather more questionable than the official program implied.
A deep breath and Thorn pressed on with his speech, it far too late f
or second-thoughts. “I must apologise to everyone here as you expected an address from the United States Secretary of State, a position it was my honour to hold until I formally resigned some two hours ago. I speak to you now simply as a native of Virginia, someone who is truly proud to be American, yet deeply concerned as to our place on the world stage and the ability of the present Administration to live up to its duty to the American people.”
There was utter silence in the audience, Thorn’s resignation from the Cabinet a shock, with even the media’s experts taken by surprise. Dick Thorn was known for his strong views and no-nonsense attitude, but there had been no hint of internal divisions or disagreements over foreign policy.
Thorn continued, “The global war on terror will soon be taken up by a second generation of Americans, the high hopes of those first years frustrated by the unjust hatred of our enemies and the naiveté of their followers. The United States is not perfect, we all know that; however, we respect the rights of the individual and are prepared to fight for the civil liberties that we all hold so dear.
“We might not always like our Presidents; we might even be ashamed of their moral hypocrisy; but we trust that in the few key moments of real crisis that they will make the right decisions. Some of these decisions will be difficult, requiring courage and fortitude, and the responsibility of being leader of the most powerful nation in the world can be a heavy burden. However, when a president makes even a single decision based on fear or a reluctance to take risks, then we can no longer be considered a superpower; we are merely a second-rate nation hiding in the background, letting others control events and – ultimately – how we live our lives.”
Thorn paused, gaze sweeping across the front rows of his select audience. “If a president lies or abuses his power, the House of Representatives has the authority – no, it has a duty – to start the impeachment process. Where a president is incompetent, indecisive or gutless, then there is only the ballot box to call him to account.”
The handful of watching reporters were busy tapping away on their mobile devices, knowing this was heady stuff and not at all what anyone had anticipated. The feedback on Thorn’s comments appeared online within seconds, everyone wondering what exactly he was leading up to.
“The powerful speaker and the one who promises what we want to hear – then they’ll be the ones to get our vote. Or maybe we just stick with the same party we always vote for, simply because we’re too afraid of change. At least we can actually cast our votes, unlike some seven million Americans who are disenfranchised by outdated and discriminatory State laws. Naturally, we all assume that the ballot box itself is a fair and just way of picking the best people to lead this great nation, but that clearly isn’t the case. Past influence by Russia on the election process has been well documented by the CIA; we even have a Spanish company totalling the votes and deciding who best should serve in Congress, with thousands of votes incorrectly counted or brazenly misplaced.
“Yesterday, in a dozen cities across America, people trying to vote have been turned away, the voting machines having broken down or randomly recording votes for the wrong candidate. It’s even worse for the thousands of Americans doing their duty and serving their country abroad, the online and email voting systems well-known to be insecure, with little attempt at verification. And when we all wake up on Wednesday after Election Day, what will we have? A Congress made up of men and women, some of whom are there in error, their first job that of confirming a Vice-President who without a legitimate public vote is but one heartbeat from becoming President of the United States.”
Thorn’s tone was gradually becoming more determined, perhaps even with a hint of anger, his gaze again traversing the audience as though daring anyone to disagree.
“In my late role as Secretary of State, I argued and persuaded, pleaded and threatened, doing everything I could to bring peace and stability to our fragile planet. Some of the world leaders I have shaken hands with are nothing more than murderers, savage narcissists who care little for their own countrymen and women, let alone the people of the United States. If we offer compromise, they will simply take what they can and then demand more in a month or a year. What purpose then does the Secretary of State serve when the United States is set upon an inflexible course of peaceful diplomacy, bullied by anyone who calls the President’s bluff?
“The South China Sea is a prime example where decisive action is essential if peace is to be maintained. For weeks now, I have argued the case that China cannot be allowed to use its military power to take whatever it wants. My objections and the objections of others within the Administration have fallen upon deaf ears. The Philippines have been steadfast friends to the United States, yet President Cavanagh is not prepared to support such an ally against the unacceptable provocation of others. Appeasement is not a concept I have ever been comfortable with and I urge all of my fellow Americans not to trust those who tell you that China will listen to reason.
“The authority of the President and the elected members of the Congress depends upon the firm belief that our system of democracy is fair and just; once that trust has been destroyed, so surely is their authority to govern. Change is not just needed, it is essential, and as a country, we must not allow a weak president to shrug off such basic concerns. Can anyone truly dispute that an inadequate president should be impeached just as an amoral one is?
“Some here will convince themselves that I exaggerate, but such is the fear pervading the White House that even the loyalty of the men and women in our armed forces is under investigation, President Cavanagh judging that those willing to give their lives in defence of the United States cannot be trusted. What does that tell us of our Commander-in-Chief?”
Thorn briefly closed his eyes, almost as though offering up a prayer. “Thank you and God bless you all. God bless this free and great nation of America.”
There was a few seconds of stunned silence, and then several members of the audience stood up, the applause rippling from front to back, a roar of approval finally sounding out loud and clear.
Thorn stepped back, determined not to smile or acknowledge the applause, thankful that others had willingly followed his supporters’ lead, the warmth and enthusiasm of the response more than he had dared hope for.
With the Vice-President’s resignation, Thorn had actually been third in line to the Presidency. Now with one speech he had destroyed his career – either that or he had reignited it with a very different agenda in mind.
The Trust Of The People Page 37