“Why didn’t we pick it up sooner?”
“Olavsvern, Mr. President. When the Norwegians sold off their Arctic naval base, it hurt our efforts to find, fix, and track subs coming out of Kola Bay.”
Ryan rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Kill me now. Just put me out of my misery.” After a moment he said, “How many Borei are in the Russian fleet?”
“We thought they had three operational Borei-class subs. Now it appears they have five. The two that were under trials are apparently further along than we thought.”
“Where are the five?”
“One in the Pacific Fleet, two in the Northern Fleet, one in the Black Sea near Sevastopol, and one, from what the intel tells us, is heading over here.”
“They can launch Bulavas, right?”
Hazelton nodded. “The Borei has the capability to carry Bulava missiles, yes.”
Ryan said, “Talk to me about the specs of the Bulava.”
Burgess took this one. “It’s a new and relatively unproven system, but our intelligence on it makes it look impressive. It’s hypersonic, faster than anything else out there; it has the ability to conduct evasive post-launch maneuvers and deploy decoys to shake off antimissile ordnance.”
Ryan said, “We have no idea if the Knyaz, or if any of them, for that matter, are actually carrying Bulava missiles, do we?”
“None whatsoever. My guess is some are, some aren’t.”
Ryan said, “Still, we operate under the assumption that the Knyaz Oleg has a full complement of nuclear weapons in its stores.”
“Of course, Mr. President.”
“Assuming this submarine does park along our coastline, what are the chances our antiballistic missiles can defeat a Bulava launch?”
Hazelton shook his head gravely as he spoke. “Next to none. It’s too close, it’s too fast, and it’s too smart. We can put several Aegis platforms near D.C. Destroyers with missile defense, but they’ve never successfully brought down anything with a Bulava’s capabilities. Frankly, Mr. President, our only real hope is launch failure.”
Ryan had heard this before, but he wanted to be certain.
“What else do you suggest we do?”
“Sir,” Burgess said gravely, “I would never tell my President what he has to do… but you asked me directly.”
“I did.”
“You have to make sure that sub doesn’t launch. I’m sure that’s easier said than done, but I can assure you that once those missiles fly… we aren’t stopping any of them. As a military man, it might seem strange to say it, but our best defense is diplomacy on this one. A world where Valeri Volodin doesn’t order that sub commander to fire is the world we need at the moment.”
Scott Adler said, “Mr. President, if we’ve indeed identified this as a Russian nuclear ballistic missile sub, and if we are confident it is heading across the Atlantic, I suggest we go public with it. It might embarrass the Russians on the world stage enough for them to recall it.”
Burgess said, “I agree we go public. Don’t know if they’ll be embarrassed, but this is a case where I think revealing our capabilities at detection will be good for our national defense. Make the Russkies aware that we’re tracking closely. They won’t know that we’ve lost them, only that, at one point, we had them fixed.”
Ryan nodded. “We let Russia know that we know, although it doesn’t look like they were going to great lengths to hide the fact. I wonder if that was their point from the outset. Create a panic.”
Burgess said, “It’s possible. The Borei is a terror weapon, just like its predecessor, the Typhoon.” He shrugged. “At least until we got our hands on Red October and unlocked its secrets.”
Jack Ryan gazed out the window for a moment, through glass thick enough to stop a sniper’s bullet. He thought about his own short stint as an impromptu crew member on a Russian SSBN. “For a long time we had an incredible advantage on Russia in the antisubmarine-warfare realm. We essentially deconstructed the Typhoon we captured, and learned a lot in the process.
“But the Borei is using all new technology. It’s a game changer. The advantages go with the subs, not with the ships hunting the subs.” He sighed. In an annoyed tone he said, “Olavsvern. At the NATO summit, can we add a line to my speech politely requesting that no more strategic NATO bases be given to the Russians?”
Eyes turned to Adler, who said, “Diplomatically speaking, that will come off as an insult to Norway.”
Ryan said, “Well, they have it coming. I’m not going to this summit to ruffle feathers, but the fact I have to go hat in hand to make my case to increase the readiness state means our NATO partners”—he held a finger up to correct himself—“some of our NATO partners, are shockingly out of touch.”
Burgess said, “Remember, Mr. President. This isn’t the first time Russia has sent a ballistic missile sub across the Atlantic. They sent a Typhoon over two years ago, took a few pictures off North Carolina, and went home. We only found out about it after the fact when Russia reported it as a major success.”
Ryan said, “At the time it looked like they did it for the prestige, their way of saying the Russian Navy was coming back strong. Looking at that now, I wonder if it wasn’t some sort of proof of concept.”
He then asked, “Will the Knyaz Oleg go back to North Carolina?”
Hazelton shook his head. “Doubtful. They figure we’ll look there, and there is a lot of coastline to choose from instead.”
Adler said, “What I don’t get is why. Why is Volodin doing this, and why now?”
Ryan said, “My guess is that Volodin ordered this sub to come over here because he wants to remind the U.S. we have our own problems close to home so that we’re not too focused on events in Europe. He wants to threaten us directly, to use his submarine as a terror weapon, so we won’t be emboldened in advance of the summit.”
Adler said, “Mr. President, your performance in Europe next week is becoming more important by the day. You have to convince twenty-seven nations, in the face of all the increasing danger coming out of Russia, to do something that many will call provocative. They will say you are poking at a wasps’ nest with a sharp stick.”
Ryan said, “Well, then, I’ll have to convince them that I just want to position a few cans of bug spray around the yard in case the wasps begin to swarm.”
18
Valeri Volodin sat at his desk in the Kremlin, his eyes running over a single sheet of paper lying on his blotter. It was the list of the FSB’s most trusted financial minds in the nation. He read every name on the list — thirty-eight in all. He knew of all the men, of course — these were well-known technocrats involved in government finance and, more important, the personal finance of the government elite.
He was looking for one name in particular, and when he came to the end of the list, he smiled with satisfaction, because Kremlin Security Council Director Mikhail Grankin’s list confirmed to Volodin exactly what he expected.
There was no mention of a local private equity manager named Andrei Limonov, and this meant, to Volodin, that Andrei Limonov would do just fine.
He’d researched Limonov through the Interior Ministry officials as well, just to make certain the man was trustworthy politically, and found the man had a refreshing lack of ambition in politics. Volodin appreciated this greatly, because if one thing could corrupt a man faster than money, it was the power that the Kremlin offered.
Volodin recognized Limonov as a bean counter, a damn good one, but nothing more than that.