“I would also remind you of the Ukrainian genocide already committed against Russian citizens in eastern Ukraine. If they are allowed to invade the Crimea, I can only expect that-“
“Shut that thing off,” Samantha Reed said. This was the third time they’d played the tape through, and by now they were beginning to know large parts of it by heart.
“The rest of it’s flag-waving and grandstanding,” Secretary of State Heideman said. “With a fair amount of heart-thumping thrown in gratis.”
“The guy’s insane,” Waring said, shaking his head. “The President would never go for something like this.”
“I don’t know,” Reed said thoughtfully. “We should at least consider the offer. Discuss it. It may be the only viable option we have.”
“Excuse me,” Admiral Scott said sharply, “but did I just hear that tin-plated neo-Communist dictator try to extort American military help? Those bastards just hijacked an entire carrier battle group and a Marine Expeditionary Unit and are holding them and something like thirty thousand of our men and women hostage! We do not make deals with terrorists!”
“Of course we do, Admiral,” Reed said testily. “We do it all the time.
We just cloak the reality behind negotiations and settlements and new breakthroughs in the peace process.”
“Good God, Madam Secretary-“
“Now hear me out!” Reed insisted. “This may not be the disaster the rest of you are making it out to be.”
“What?” Scott said. “Is this a new way you have of cutting back the Defense Department? Give our carriers to the Russians?”
“Admiral, I will remind you that you work for me! If you can’t accept that, if you can’t live with my standards, then you are welcome to tender your resignation.”
“No, ma’am,” Scott replied, his jaw stubbornly set. “You’re going to have to fire me, because right now it looks to me like I’m the only one looking out for the interests of our people over there.”
“Our people should be safe enough, Admiral,” Waring said. “Dmitriev’s not crazy enough to launch an attack on a carrier group, not as weak as his forces are right now. All our boys need to do is sit tight… maybe withdraw to a Turkish Black Sea port, and they’ll be fine.”
“Has anyone bothered to ask the Turks what they think of that?” Lloyd said quietly.
“They still refuse to admit our ships into their waters,” Heideman said glumly. “We have people talking to them. They’ll see reason, we think, but it might take time.”
“That’s not likely,” Scott said. “Damn it, they have a war on their hands now. Don’t you see? Russia just attacked Turkish territory. What… Roger? How many civilians died in that attack?”
“Last number I saw was eight hundred,” Lloyd replied. “That’ll go up, though. They’re still fishing bodies out of the Bosporus.”
“Well, why are the Turks mad at us?” Reed wanted to know. She spread her hands. “This puts us and the Turks in the same boat. Russia attacked both of us!”
“They, ah, may think that we provoked that attack, Madam Secretary,” Heideman said carefully. “They may be trying to distance themselves for that reason.”
Scott snorted rudely. “Ankara may also still want to salvage their relationship with the Russians.”
Lloyd nodded. “The admiral’s right. Remember, the Turks need the Russians to help control the Kurd arms-smuggling on their border. There are factions in the Turkish government that would accept a Russian apology for the ‘accident’ on the Bosporus in exchange for an air strike or two against Kurdish camps in Armenia.”
“So where do we stand, then?” Reed wanted to know. “You’re telling me there’s no way we can get through and resupply them?”
Scott looked at Magruder and nodded. Magruder pulled a sheaf of plastic binders from his briefcase and passed them out to the others at the table. “These, Madam Secretary,” he said, “are our estimates of the CBG’s capabilities. In short, we estimate that they can continue normal flight and patrol operations for ten days. If, however, they are forced to fight a major battle ― if Dmitriev launches an air strike against the Jefferson, for instance, and they have to beat it off ― that operational window drops to three days. Less if they use mass attacks continued over a period of time, which is traditional Russian strategy.”
“What if operations are rationed?” Waring asked. “You know, not flying any missions at all unless they’re absolutely necessary?”
“Mr. Waring, that ten-day estimate takes into account only ‘necessary operations.’ Minimal CAP ― that’s Combat Air Patrol ― with enough aircraft up at any given time both to give warning of an approaching hostile force and to be able to meet it in the air. Hawkeye and Prowler electronic surveillance flights. We have to have the E-2Cs up round the clock, or we’re sailing blind. Viking and helo ASW flights go off round the clock, too, covering the entire battle group from hostile subs. Anything less…” He stopped and shrugged. “We might as well hang out a sign. “For sale. Used aircraft carrier. You haul it away.’”
“What about hardware?” Waring asked. “Missiles, stuff like that?”
“One major engagement could expend nearly everything they have aboard, sir. But aviation fuel will be their major worry. Even at best, in peacetime with a slow ops schedule, a carrier’s JP-5 stores are only good for a couple of weeks.”
“And Dmitriev knows that,” Scott added. “I don’t believe for one second his claim that the attack on our UNREP tanker was an accident. The bastard was trying to sink her, partly to help block the channel, partly because he knew she represented an additional two weeks of flying time for our carrier planes.”
“How about food and water?” Heideman asked.
“That won’t be a major consideration, at least not for a while,” Magruder told him. “They make their own fresh water. They may run out of fresh fruit and stuff like that, but they can go for a good many months with onboard stores.”
“Look, the fact of the matter is we can’t give in to Dmitriev’s demands,” Scott said. “That’s extortion, pure and simple.”
“Well, what would you have us do?” Reed demanded. “We can’t go in and get them out. You say they can’t last for long without fuel and supplies. The Turks won’t let them into their ports. I see no alternative but to recommend that they cooperate with the Russians!”
“Madam Secretary,” Scott said. “Do I need to remind you that these people have attacked us? Sunk a civilian ship working under charter with our fleet? Blockaded that fleet? Strafed one of our helicopters assigned to UN duty? Fired on our aircraft? Threatened us with an attack against that fleet?”
“Then give me an alternative that I can present to the President!”
“Simple,” Scott said, folding his arms across his chest. “We send in the Marines. Secure the whole of the Dardanelles Straits, from the Aegean to the Black Sea. Send in Seabee units and SEALS to blast the wreckage out of the channel. We move another carrier ― the Eisenhower is already in the Med ― into the Aegean and fly support missions across Turkish territory, and to hell with what Ankara says. We can also fly aerial refueling missions off the Ike and extend the Jefferson’s onboard stores.
“Meanwhile, the Marines hold the channel open against possible repeat Russian attacks until the wreckage is removed and our ships and people are out of that death trap!”
“The Turkish government may take a dim view of our invading their territory,” Heideman said.