by Tom Clancy
An hour after this Clark climbed the rise, dropped down to his knees, and covered the last few feet in a crouch. When he peered over the top of the hill, he took a moment to orient himself. He looked down at the little cove below him, then pulled his night observation device from his pack.
After scanning back and forth through his NODs, he dropped his shoulders in resignation.
The big catamaran was gone.
54
President Jack Ryan sat back down at the round table in the conference room in Copenhagen, surrounded by twenty-six other national leaders, everyone minus the president of Lithuania, who had returned to her country to deal with the crisis at home.
His biggest ally in all this was gone, he told himself.
Before the discussion began he took stock of his base of support. He felt secure that he had the backing of Poland, Latvia, and Estonia, as well as other NATO member nations in Central Europe. As for the Western Europeans, he was counting on the United Kingdom and Germany, although the latter had not given him any direct indication they were on board with his plan.
Most all of the other nations were question marks, and he knew he was about to find out just where they all stood.
While Ryan hadn’t exactly expected a coronation after his ten-minute speech, he quickly realized he’d also been unprepared for the daggers to come out quite so quickly. As soon as the meeting reconvened, the president of France was recognized by the NATO secretary general. He was a swarthy sixty-year-old with a sparkle in his eye from a quick wit. He was a socialist, of course; five hundred times more liberal than Ryan, yet always respectful in his dealings with the American President. He addressed the room in French, but his words were deftly translated through the FM wireless earpiece in Ryan’s left ear.
“We’ve all read the briefing book you delivered to us, President Ryan, but, quite frankly, so much of what you assert is based upon conjecture. You are alleging the FSB has been involved in nearly every bad thing that has happened in the last few weeks.”
Ryan kept a measured tone. “I’ve cited five events I feel have been influenced or orchestrated by Russia. I am sorry to say it, but much more bad has happened in the world in addition to these five. I haven’t blamed Valeri Volodin for the bomb in the mosque in Tunisia on Tuesday, for example, or the drug cartel crisis in Mexico, just to mention a couple of things in the news.”
The French president waved his hand. “Be that as it may, your accusations feel like a stretch. And even putting aside the inflammatory proposal of moving armor from the alliance into Lithuania, your request for further sanctions troubles me as well. All this talk about the wealthy wrenching power from the masses. You are essentially accusing the Russians of operating a criminal state. A rogue regime.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes, I am.”
The president of France said, “What you are talking about is corruption. Shall we outlaw any nation with corruption in their system?”
“Corruption isn’t in Russia’s system, Mr. President. It is their system.”
“Be that as it may, we are not an enforcement body over the domestic policies of anyone, much less a non-NATO power. We have to leave Russia to fight their own organized crime.”
“Forgive me,” Ryan said, careful to keep his tone lighter than his darkening mood. “But when the state is a criminal organization, the state won’t do a good job combatting criminal organizations.”
The prime minister of the Netherlands spoke up now. He was a good-looking man in his late forties who spoke English as well as Ryan did. “Mr. President, you talked as if Russia had something to show for their invasion of Ukraine. I disagree with this assessment. They have been effectively held in place for a year. They are not winning.”
Ryan nodded. “Compared to their original goal? No, they have not been successful, you are correct. But look at a map of two years ago, and then tell us Russia is not in a better position now. Compared to a two-year-old map, they are winning.”
The Dutch leader said, “A fair point, Mr. President. But you are asking us to risk war with Russia over Lithuania.”
Ryan said, “Mr. Prime Minister, I am merely asking you to live up to the NATO charter, of which your nation is a signatory.”
The young Dutchman shrugged a little, a dismissive gesture. “Over a Russian land bridge through Lithuania to its own province. Look, I’d love to help in this endeavor. Russia’s involvement in the plane crash was horrific, and both their actions and their rhetoric have been deplorable. Further, I recognize NATO will appear weak if we do nothing. But there has been no Article Five violation yet, so we aren’t obligated to do anything.”
Ryan said, “But when the violation comes, there will be no chance to do anything. Russia can take Lithuania at will.”
The Dutch prime minister said, “And my nation can’t prevent that. Look . . . let’s talk facts. Russia has seven hundred fifty thousand ground troops. The Netherlands has seventeen thousand. They have seven hundred sixty attack and interceptor aircraft. We have sixty-nine. They have three hundred fifty-two warships. We have twenty-three.”
He paused for a moment, cleared his throat, then said, “They have fifteen thousand tanks. We have zero.” He smiled, as if he had just checkmated Ryan, then repeated more forcefully, “Zero, Mr. President.”
And whose fucking fault is that? Ryan didn’t say it, but he thought it so hard he wondered if the interpreters might pick up his feelings and translate them to the room. Europe as a whole had made a high-stakes gamble on permanent world peace, or at least on permanent European peace, and their bet had not paid off. Now Ryan had to convince them to agree to put a few thousand of their troops into action to prevent a European war, while America would carry the water for them all.
He said, “I recognize your nation and many nations here are hopelessly outgunned by Russia. That is all the more reason to accept this proposal. If Volodin walks into Lithuania without a response from us, he will walk, or he will fight, his way into Poland. The rest of the Baltic will look good to him then. At that point, we will be at war, I feel sure, but the question is, how many tanks will you have then? Zero still? Or will you go on an all-out defense buildup and buy twenty-five?”
The Dutch prime minster glared at Ryan.
Ryan said, “You can prevent a larger conflagration by standing firm now.”
The prime minister of the United Kingdom was ceded the floor for a moment, just long enough to assure President Ryan that the UK was behind him and in support of his proposals, and then to implore the rest of the room to carefully consider the blow NATO would take for losing a member state to Russia’s tanks. As soon as he was finished, the young president of Poland echoed the UK’s statement, and assured Ryan the Poles were with him in this fight all the way.
But after this, the French president spoke again. “My intelligence agency does not see an attack on Lithuania as imminent. Yes, it is provocative that Russia is conducting such a large-scale training exercise at this time, but it seems they do this every couple of years.”
Ryan wanted to say, “Yeah, and it seems like they invade a neighbor every couple of years.” But he fought himself, and he held his tongue.
The French president continued. “So we do not feel there is a crisis like the one you describe. Further, at the moment France carries a large percentage of the forces and armor in NATO’s VHRJTF, larger than anyone other than the United States. We feel our burden would be disproportionate, should the Russian invasion come.”
Ryan thought about being diplomatic for a moment.
But not for long.
He said, “Mr. President, you are saying Russia will not attack, so it is not necessary to move the VHRJTF into Lithuania, and then, with the next breath, you say you don’t want to move the VHRJTF because if Russia attacks, your forces would be most affected.”
Ryan looked at the president of Fra
nce, and he looked at the president of Germany, his close friend Marion Schöngarth. From the expressions on both leaders’ faces, he quickly registered that with his last comment he had lost France and won Germany.
A push.
The prime minister of Denmark had never been a fan of Ryan, he knew this from his dealings with her, and he really knew it from everything she said about him in the press. In the entire room, she probably came the closest to outright hatred of the U.S. President. She pulled her microphone closer to her mouth to speak, and Ryan reached for his glass of water, knowing he was going to need to be ready for a vigorous response to whatever she said.
The Danish prime minister said, “If we move troops to Lithuania, we are asking Volodin to invade. We are giving him the excuse he needs. Is that what you really want? Are you trying to draw us into a fight?”
Ryan shook his head. “By not putting a blocking force in Lithuania we are asking Volodin to invade, because he sees this as nothing but weakness, and the success of his intimidation tactics. You think we would be doing nothing, but we would be doing something. We would be quite actively backing down. The sooner we realize how Valeri Volodin sees the world, the sooner we will understand how we need to counter him.”
The Danish prime minister said, “Apologies for articulating what many people in this room are thinking, Mr. President, but I think this is how you see the world. You, President Ryan, you are the reactionary zealot. Valeri Volodin is no one to fear. He is a tin-pot dictator with an old and inefficient military.”
Ryan wondered how long Denmark could hold out against Russia’s “old and inefficient” military. He presumed their fifty-seven tanks would put up a good fight, but if they survived half a week against Russia, their tankers’ heroics would be spoken of for hundreds of years.
Ryan said, “I respectfully disagree. Yes, he has a poor hand of cards, but he is playing them like the best poker player on the planet.”
The Danish leader said, “Volodin has done nothing against the people of Denmark, and nothing he has done in Lithuania, not even his threats, have risen to the level of an Article Five violation. I will support increasing sanctions—we can fold in the midair collision as part of the reason why. But I don’t want to antagonize a man like Volodin.”
Now the German president, Marion Schöngarth, spoke up. “Our intelligence agencies are quite good, Mr. President. Maybe they aren’t as good at spying on allies as your CIA, but they know Russia.”
Ryan ignored the dig. A whistle-blower had revealed a CIA eavesdropping operation in Germany, and Ryan knew he’d hear about it here. He made no reply, he’d already apologized over the kerfuffle, and he was content to leave it there.
Schöngarth continued, “And my intelligence service says Volodin is looking for a sign from us. He will do all these things you speak of up until an attack, hoping to see clear evidence we will not fight back. When we reveal ourselves as not willing to put up a fight for Lithuania, only then will he move in.”
The Spanish prime minister all but shouted into his microphone: “So he’s bluffing. You just said it. All we have to do is insist we will retaliate, and he will back down. We shouldn’t move forces, because that will be too provocative. That will invite a response when none would come if we kept our cool heads.”
Ryan fought his exasperation now. “When we allowed the former Eastern Bloc nations into NATO, we knew this could happen. NATO isn’t an economic partnership. It’s not a cultural exchange. It’s a military alliance. We didn’t all agree to this union so that we could trade cheese between our nations. No, it is to protect one another.” He paused. “And one of us is in danger of being erased from the map.”
The French prime minister said, “The alliance is to prevent a European war. The former Eastern Bloc nations want revenge on Russia.” He sipped his water. “NATO is not in the revenge business.”
Ryan said, “This is not about revenge for the crimes of a quarter-century ago. This is about protecting people, livelihoods, and futures from a current, imminent, and existential threat.”
Patiently, Ryan added, “I firmly believe moving the troops to Lithuania will reduce any chance there is for war dramatically. That is why I am here today.”
The prime minister of Denmark spoke up now. It was becoming something of a gang attack in here, with Ryan as the victim. She said, “If what you say is correct, that he is trying to draw us into war, then there is nothing to worry about. Other than you, no one in this room wants to go to war. We can’t be drawn in.”
The predictability of the comment left Ryan at a loss. He’d expected better arguments for non-involvement than what he’d heard, almost a preemptive declaration of surrender.
Ryan leaned in to his microphone. “It might be inconvenient for you all that we accepted nations into NATO that might now actually call on NATO to help, but where will we be if we do not respond forcefully to an Article Five violation?”
The Danish prime minister barked angrily, “Where will we be if we do?”
The Italian prime minister spoke up now. “You said he will invade without war if he sees he can get away with it. Well, he invades and we are drawn in, or he invades and we stay out of it. Well . . . I fall firmly on the side of staying out of it. Of course we will intervene diplomatically, perhaps economically. We will express that this is not how one behaves in this day and age, and we will demonstrate our moral superiority.”
Ryan said, “A show of our moral superiority will not help the Lithuanians nearly as much as a show of our air superiority will.”
• • •
An hour later President Ryan, Scott Adler, and his NATO ambassador emerged with the others from the meeting, and after some handshakes he entered his armored car. On the way back to his hotel, Ryan rubbed his eyes under his glasses while his assistant chief of staff got his SecDef on the phone. Ryan took the phone from him as he looked out the window. “Bob? Well, we’ve got Germany. Marion Schöngarth doesn’t love me, but she knows I’m making the right call.”
Burgess said, “Good. Germany is important.” He waited expectantly for more results from the meeting. “Mr. President?”
Ryan said, “My incredible powers of persuasion managed to win the day with Poland, too.” Of course Poland would agree to the motion. It was in the same boat as neighboring Lithuania.
“That’s not funny, Mr. President. Tell me you’ve got more.”
“A lot of nations are playing this close to their vest. Canada will follow us, the UK as well. Most of the Central European countries voiced some support.” Jack shrugged. “But that was a tough room.”
Adler looked across the limo at his President. “I thought you’d do better than that.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “This is a tough room, too, apparently.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. President. I didn’t mean to imply it’s your fault. Almost everyone in that meeting already had their mind made up.”
“I know, Scott. I feel like I was trying to herd cats in there. Let’s start with who we know is going to come out against. Spain, Denmark, France . . . no way they will move NATO troops in advance of an Article Five violation.”
Adler said, “At which point, just as was the case in Ukraine, the invasion is all but a fait accompli.”
“Exactly. Italy looks doubtful, Iceland seemed skeptical it would do any good, but we might get a vote out of them anyway because they didn’t express concern that it would do harm.”
Ryan blew out a sigh. “We’ve got to get full consensus. Just because someone is against doesn’t mean they won’t raise their hand tomorrow. If they want to keep the integrity of the organization intact they might go along with it despite their reservations. But quite frankly . . . I don’t think we’re going to get our troops.”
Bob Burgess was listening in via speakerphone. He said, “I’ve spoken with the Marine commander for Europe personally. He knows
we’re hoping to move NATO into Lithuania, but if that doesn’t happen . . .”
Ryan said, “He’s ready?”
“He’s ready,” Burgess confirmed. “The Black Sea Rotational Force will move to the eastern border.”
Ryan cocked his head. “What about Lithuania’s border with Kaliningrad? To the west?”
“We have a Special-Purpose Marine Air-Ground Task Force Crisis Response unit we will send from Morón Air Base in Spain. About seven hundred men in total. We will add to this force a FAST team, that’s a Fleet Antiterrorism Security Team, in Rota, Spain. Another hundred twenty or so Marines, but all exceptionally well trained.”
Ryan said, “Eight hundred Marines in total? That’s even less than the battalion of the Black Sea Rotational Force protecting the east.”
Burgess said, “True, but we are not expecting a big invasion by Russia out of Kaliningrad.”
“Why is that?” Ryan asked.
“Simple, Mr. President. Poland. If the Russians hit Lithuania out of Kaliningrad, it will deplete their defenses in Kaliningrad. The Poles, who also have a border with Kaliningrad and a good military, could then attack Kaliningrad.”
Ryan scoffed at this. “That’s ridiculous. Poland doesn’t want to invade Russian territory.”
“We know that, but the Russians are paranoid.”
Ryan thought it over and then nodded. “Something we can use against them, perhaps.” He waved away the thought. “How long will the BSRF and the Marines on the Kaliningrad border be on their own before we can reinforce them?”
“The Marine Expeditionary Unit off the coast of Scotland has an LHD. Sorry, Scott, that means Landing Helicopter Dock ship. They have two other, smaller transport vessels as well. We’ll have them join up with some warships for protection before they get into the Baltic. They can arrive in Lithuanian waters in five days. After that we have a brigade at Camp Lejeune ready to lift over. They could land in Vilnius in ten days.”