Ryan looked at the map on the monitor on the other side of the room. It was the only monitor he could see with the crowd against the walls. “What do the Russians say they thought the tanker’s intentions were?”
“Terrorism. They are claiming they felt this was another attack on Russian forces in Kaliningrad, just like the attack in Vilnius.”
“That’s asinine.”
Mary Pat said, “It’s for domestic consumption. Volodin’s about to go to war, he knows it, and he is hammering home the same nationalistic ‘We’re all under attack’ line to his people he’s been using for the past year. But now he’s bolstering this assertion by claiming his people are literally under attack.”
Burgess said, “Following your instructions, I’ve already directed the chief of naval operations to move the nearest surface assets toward Lithuania. First to arrive will be the James Greer, a guided missile destroyer.”
Ryan said, “I saw the Greer on CNN this morning. It’s helping with the SA44 crash.”
“It was. It’s already left the crash site, and now it’s moving as fast as possible into position. It will be on station by seven this evening. The captain is awaiting orders. He knows he’ll either protect Lithuanian waters or play a more active role in international waters.”
Ryan nodded. He knew that decision was up to him, ultimately, but he wasn’t going to be rushed into it.
Burgess said, “And there is news from DIA regarding the three generals we mentioned. Two from the Western Military District, and one in the Southern Military District.”
Ryan said, “You told me DIA felt confident these men would be present in theater before an attack on Lithuania.”
“Correct, and we’ve pinpointed all three. One of the generals is in Belarus, and one is in Kaliningrad.”
“Where’s the third?”
“He was in Belarus until the day before yesterday, then he left.”
“Where is he now?”
“Believe it or not, he’s in Odessa on vacation.”
“Vacation?”
“He’s at a new resort hotel set up for military officers. There was a story about it on TV this morning on Channel Seven. He and a few other top military guys were mentioned.”
At first glance, this made no sense to Ryan. “What would his role be in the invasion?”
“Heavy artillery. That’s what he’s been involved with in all the other fights.”
Jack smiled slowly now. It wasn’t a look of happiness, just marveling at the situation.
“What is it?” Adler asked.
“This general… he’s their Patton.”
Burgess understood immediately. “A misdirection.”
“Sorry,” Scott Adler said. “Patton?”
Ryan filled him in. “Before the D-Day invasion, the Germans were keeping an eye on one man. America’s most audacious general. They took it as a given that he would be involved with the invasion.
“Eisenhower understood this, so he sent George Patton up to the north of England, gave him a phantom army, used him as a complete misdirection. He wasn’t involved in D-Day, because Ike determined he could serve best by turning the enemy’s eyes away from the real attack.”
Ryan said, “This Russian general is going to have capable senior staff under him who can do his job. The Russians send him off to ‘club mil’ in Odessa, make a big show about the fact he is nowhere near the theater, so we think nothing is about to happen.”
Scott Adler understood the deeper ramifications of this news. He said, “In the past few weeks they’ve done everything in their power to telegraph the fact they were coming over the border. Now, suddenly, they apply some trickery.” He didn’t ask why, because he knew why. “The invasion is decided. The West caved like they thought we would, so they are going forward.”
Jack Ryan agreed. “They have to go forward. They want us to let our guard down for a day or two while this old goat is sunning himself on the beach, which means that’s when they’ll come.”
Burgess said, “I’ll alert our ambassador to NATO. He can push again for a deployment.”
“No,” countered Ryan quickly. “NATO will only deploy when it’s too late. That ship has sailed. They will only act, if at all, when the Article Five violation is well under way.”
Adler asked, “What do you want to do?”
“We are going to deploy the Black Sea Rotational Force into Lithuania.” He turned to Burgess. “They need to be moving ten minutes ago. Also get the Marine units from Spain on the way, and give the regiment at Camp Lejeune the green light. You said they could be in Lithuania in ten days. That clock is now ticking.”
Burgess turned to an aide, a uniformed colonel with a nameplate that read BROWN. “Brownie, go.” Burgess turned back to Ryan. “The MEU training in the North Sea?”
Ryan nodded. “Push them to the east — toward the Baltic Sea. Obviously we’ve got some Russian subs to kill before I put two thousand American Marines in Russian waters. But it will take them days to get there.” He turned to the secretary of the Navy. “You need to make sure our ships looking for those subs have everything they need. If you want me on the phone with Sweden or Poland, or… or anybody, to pull more assistance from foreign nations, you just say the word.”
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
“And Bob.” He looked back to Burgess.
“Sir?”
“Keep an eye on this general in Odessa. If you remember, Patton wasn’t involved in D-Day, but he sure as hell was involved a few months later, killing Germans at the Battle of the Bulge.”
“I take your meaning, Mr. President.”
The deployment of the Black Sea Rotational Force had been discussed for days, so when the orders came down through the Marine Corps Commandant to MARFOREUR, the Marine Forces Europe, at its HQ in Germany, the lieutenant colonel in charge of the BSRF, only had to give the “Go” order.
Lieutenant Colonel Rich Belanger was the battalion commander for the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment of the 1st Marine Division. Known as the Darkhorse Battalion, 3/5 had spent the last fifteen years fighting counterinsurgency wars in the Middle East. At forty-seven, Belanger was a quarter-century older than the majority of his men. Defending his nation for so long would give him a different perspective from that of his younger men in most situations, but now his age had a special relevance. Back when Belanger was a young “butter bar” lieutenant, he spent virtually all his time getting drilled in the ins and outs of Soviet doctrine and Eastern Bloc military hardware. In the late eighties there was no secret who the principal enemy of the United States was, and where a potential war would likely be fought.
But for the young men in his battalion now, the world looked very different. Belanger’s Marines with battle experience had learned the savageries of war in Afghanistan and Iraq, yet it was an altogether different kind of enemy, terrain, and warfare from what they would experience here in Central Europe if the Russians invaded a NATO country.
From the moment Belanger knew the storied Darkhorse Battalion would assume watch in the Black Sea Rotational Force, he’d gone to work on retraining and altering the mind-set of his Marines, impressing on them the different type of fighting they would do, because he alone appreciated what they were getting into.
Afghanistan sucked. The enemy was real and the threats were pervasive. That said, nobody in Afghanistan ever talked about enemy tanks, or worse, enemy air.
Here in Europe, with Russia as an adversary, tanks and air was pretty much all anyone talked about.
A different kind of enemy altogether.
An insurgent’s IED in Afghanistan could take out a squad, but a battery of Russian 2S19 artillery could take out a company.