“If they don’t, then I’ll—” He looked as if he were on the verge of exploding or totally breaking down — Freeman couldn’t tell. “If they don’t, we will attack and destroy a military target in Russia.”
“What?” gasped the First Lady, horrified.
“The General’s right,” the President told her. “We’ve acted with restraint, and all we’ve gotten is more violence. I don’t see an end to it unless we act, unless we answer force with force. I’m not playing the peacemaker anymore. I tried it in the Islamic Wars, and it took the Turks to bail me out. I tried it in Yugoslavia, and Germany bailed me out. So far in this fight, Turkey’s bailed me out again. I’m not sitting back any longer.
“I will take the fight to Russia — no economic sanctions, no negotiations, no screwing with words while more American airmen get killed, no more Hot Line phone calls where the asshole hangs up on me. The Russian people will find out what it’s like to get nuked, to see loved ones die of radiation poisoning, to watch the skies and wonder if the next plane will drop a neutron bomb on their house and destroy everything. I will launch a nuclear bomber attack into Russia against a military target and obliterate it. I will send the stealth bombers into Russia and destroy a military base. I am going to end this damned war or I will carry it through to the fucking end!”
There was no sound in the Oval Office for several long moments, except for the sound of the President’s deep breathing and the sound of the First Lady pacing back and forth after she’d gotten up. “All right, General,” the President said resignedly. “I want a plan to destroy this bunker — this Domodedovo airport. How soon can you have something to show me?”
“Preliminary assessment within the hour, Mr. President,” Freeman said, still amazed the President capitulated. “A detailed briefing ready to present to the leadership and the Alliance in three … no, two hours.”
“I want it surgically done, with as little collateral damage as possible,” the President ordered. “Do we have any of those low-yield things the Russians use?”
“Even if we did, it wouldn’t work against the bunker, sir,” Freeman said. “The neutron radiation can’t penetrate through more than eighteen inches of concrete — the bunker probably has more than eighteen feet of concrete, if it’s anything like Strategic Command headquarters or the NMCC. We have to dig it out, and that means at least twenty kilotons and a direct hit, with an airburst fuzing height of no more than five thousand feet.”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” the First Lady gasped. Over the sudden hubbub of voices the phone rang again, and the Chief of Staff picked it up. “I can’t believe I’m actually witnessing the planning of a nuclear attack against Russia.” The President took the phone from his Chief of Staff when it was held out to him. He listened for a few moments, then handed it back.
“Looks like we’re going to need that plan, General Freeman. There’s been a Russian cruise missile attack in Turkey. Ataturk International Airport in Istanbul and the Golcuk naval base were hit.”
“Any nuclear weapons used, sir?”
There was a long pause. The President lowered his head and took a deep breath. “Both targets,” the President said. “Subatomic warheads, exploded at ten thousand feet.”
“My God,” Scheer said. “I can’t believe it… the Russians actually dared to launch another nuclear attack.”
“The loss of life may be low,” Freeman offered quickly, shocked at how depressed and stricken the President appeared right now — he looked as if he might be on the verge of tears or a violent outburst. “The Turks dispersed the fleet based at Golcuk days ago. The facility is large but fairly isolated, in very rugged terrain, so neutron radiation would be isolated to the local area. The nearest city is ten miles away, out of the hazard radius for a neutron device, and it’s small. As far as Istanbul-Ataturk International, it was closed to commercial traffic when the Russians attacked the Turkish Navy, so there would be just a skeleton military security team there. The city is close, about three to four miles northeast, but it would probably not be affected — the danger radius of the weapons the Russians exploded in the Ukraine was only one to two miles. The Russians picked their target well, sir — maximum shock value but very low loss of life.”
The President clung to that bit of news and actually seemed to appear relieved. He clasped his wife’s hand, who had now gone over to his side, and looked at her stunned face with concern. “It’ll be all right, honey,” he said in a low voice. “Everything will be all right.”
“Sir, perhaps you should think about evacuating Washington,” Freeman said. “A flight of Russian cruise missiles launched from a submarine can devastate this city.”
“No way,” the President said resolutely. “I left once before, and it was the worst embarrassment of my life. I will consider sending the Vice President and other Cabinet members out of town — but I’m not leaving.
“I want a statement drafted up immediately, ordering the Russians to pull out of the Ukraine and cease all hostile activities. And I want that Russian target list made up as soon as possible. If I don’t get an answer back from Velichko immediately, I’m ordering the air strike for tomorrow night.”
THIRTY-NINE
Ever since he got the assignment to Plattsburgh and the RF-111G Vampire, Daren Mace knew he’d be back at Batman Air Base in Turkey. He didn’t know why he knew. Obviously the trouble in Eastern Europe, the capabilities of the Vampire bomber, and the Turks’ love of the beast had a lot to do with it.
He stood alone on Batman’s large parking ramp area, in front of the base operations building. Batman was one of the most modern military bases in the world, with large concrete hangars and extensive underground aircraft-maintenance facilities. It was the headquarters of the Turkish government’s defense against Kurdish and Shi’ite Muslim rebels and extremists in the east, as well as being in the center of a powerful industrial and petroleum-production region, and was therefore very well defended and purposely isolated. Located near the headwaters of the Euphrates River of eastern Turkey, with tall mountains to the south and east, the base was also very beautiful. During Desert Storm, Batman was the little-known headquarters of the U.S. Special Operations Command, operating secret combat search and rescue and “unconventional warfare” missions throughout Iraq and the entire Middle East region …
… and it was also the headquarters of Operation Desert Fire, the mission to destroy an Iraqi military bunker with a thermonuclear weapon if Saddam Hussein used chemical or biological weapons during the war. Back then, Daren Mace had come within seconds of launching the nuke. Now it seemed the whole world was insane enough to use nuclear weapons.
Mace heard a helicopter approach a few moments later. It was a Turkish Jandarma (Turkey’s interior militia) S-70 utility helicopter, a license-built copy of the UH-60 Black Hawk. The helicopter had a load slung underneath, and Mace motioned four of his maintenance techs to move a large roller cradle over to get ready to load. It was the escape capsule of an RF-111G Vampire bomber — Rebecca’s bomber. The capsule was carefully loaded onto the cradle, and then the S-70 landed and dropped off a single passenger.
Before she had taken three steps away from the jetcopter, Mace had rushed over to Rebecca Furness’ side, taken her in his arms, and kissed her deeply. Rebecca returned his kiss, then buried her face in his shoulder.
He finally led her away from the roar of the rotors. “Jeez, Rebecca, I thought I lost you,” Mace told her.