Running on a platform that emphasized cooperation over confrontation, the young politician had attained the nation’s highest office with a clear victory in all but two states. Quite an accomplishment, considering Palmer’s previous political experience was limited to a single Senate term.
Graced with the gift of spontaneous rhetoric and movie star good looks, the tall, lanky Midwesterner had a firm understanding of his constituents. Faced with the problems of a spiraling national debt, double-digit inflation and growing unemployment, the public had demanded a change. They were tired of the old-guard politicians who talked at great lengths about the problems but did little to solve them.
Palmer proposed to focus the country’s attention on the one issue responsible for the nation’s shortcomings.
His speeches concentrated on a single fact-because of the needless arms race with the Soviets, the country was experiencing its worst economic difficulties.
He promised to cut the massive spending on missiles and other war toys and divert them to other sectors, such as medical research, agriculture and even space exploration. Relieved of its huge military expenditures, he pledged that America would flourish as never before.
Of course, the success of his strategy depended fully upon the cooperation of the Soviet Union. Only with a bilateral disarmament could such a dream come to pass. Fortunately, the Russian economy was in even worse shape than America’s. In a mad rush to obtain military parity with the U.S.” the Soviets had promoted military growth as their number one priority.
As a result, their consumer hardships had increased.
Tired of breadlines, poor quality household goods and other shoddy personal merchandise, the Russian people cried out for change. For the first time since the revolution, angry mobs of dissatisfied Russians roamed the streets of the large cities and demanded a change for the better.
Though the Soviet bureaucracy moved at a ponderous pace, the sudden rise of Viktor Rodin soon brought the changes that the people demanded.
Like Palmer, the relatively young General Secretary realized that military spending was draining his country dry. He called for a series of daring, unprecedented economic programs. Robert Palmer’s predecessor in the White House had reacted to Rodin’s ascension cautiously. Fearful to take the initiative and open a dialogue with the new Soviet leader, Washington sat back and watched the new Premier consolidate his position with a wary eye.
By supporting increased military spending, the previous Administration had made Rodin’s job even more difficult. How could he propose cuts in Russia’s military establishment when America continued to pump billions of dollars into new weapon systems of their own?
The young contender for the White House realized this dilemma and molded his campaign around it.
“Dare for Greatness” was the slogan with which he challenged the American people. Early in the primaries, Palmer announced his desire to meet with Viktor Rodin immediately after he won the presidency.
Face to face, the two leaders of the most powerful nations the world had ever known would rationally address the dangerous plight in which they found themselves.
It wasn’t long after Palmer had taken the oath of office that his invitation was presented to the General Secretary. Much to the new President’s delight, Rodin accepted at once. In response to this Palmer introduced an immediate freeze on all new weapons development. A day later, the Premier did likewise.
Confident that his colleague’s goals and aspirations were like his own.
Palmer had spent the past two months preparing for their historic meeting. During that period, a feeling of general euphoria was shared by a majority of the world’s population. Encouraged by daily newscasts hinting at drastic results from the upcoming summit, the peoples of the earth had hope that the age of imminent nuclear warfare was finally over.
Robert had awakened this morning feeling strong and self-assured. But then a phone call, relayed to him via the Pentagon, had severely dampened his enthusiasm. The admiral who had conveyed the initial information had related a nightmarish tale of conspiracy, mutiny and the likely threat of a possible Soviet first strike. The President had decided that it was time to initiate a call of his own. Viktor Rodin had appeared genuinely shocked upon hearing Palmer’s information.
The Premier’s response was strained and confused.
Palmer was certain that the man was learning about the takeover of the IL-36 relay plane — and the subsequent release of launch orders to the Vulkan — for the very first time. His decision to continue on to L.A. was most heartening. With a promise to find out just what was occurring aboard the submarine, and to call Palmer back when he had done so, the Premier broke the line.
Palmer had learned the true extent of the crisis when the General Secretary had called back. In a heavy, condescending tone, Rodin confirmed that the Vulkan was unable to be contacted. The President could hardly believe it when the Premier asked for American help in tracking down the errant vessel.
A hastily called emergency staff meeting had produced mixed results. As Palmer had expected, his National Security Advisor, Patrick Carrigan, feared some sort of Soviet shenanigans. Distrustful of Rodin’s good intentions from the very beginning, Carrigan pleaded with Palmer to cancel the summit and leave Los Angeles at once. To underscore his warning, Carrigan had detailed the incredible destructive power of a Soviet Delta-class sub. Not only L.A.” but cities all over the continent would be wiped out if the vessel’s missiles were targeted to do so. To insure the country’s military command response if the SS-N-18s were released, Carrigan had advised that the U.S. strategic forces be brought to a state of emergency alert.
George Michaelson, the Secretary of State, had taken a much softer stand. Conscious of the ultimate consequences of a Soviet missile strike, he pleaded with the President to proceed with utmost delicacy.
Since all signs pointed to this being an isolated incident, it was their responsibility to help Viktor Rodin resolve the embarrassing situation, whose dire consequences threatened them all. A strategic alert on the part of America would only give the suspicious Russians an excuse to order one of their own. The idea of both countries with their fingers on the nuclear hairtrigger didn’t appeal to the Secretary of State at all.
He did, however, agree with Carrigan that Palmer should leave Los Angeles as soon as possible. If the worse-case scenario came to pass, the President had to be far away from any potential target areas.
Robert Palmer concurred with this, and had ordered his E-4B command aircraft known as Kneecap (for National Emergency Airborne Command Post) to be ready for a quick take-off. The converted Boeing 747 was parked in a secured, isolated section of the same airport in which he presently awaited the arrival of the Soviet Premier. Packed with a variety of highly sophisticated communications systems, Kneecap was designed to serve as a survivable flying command post in times of crisis. Its purpose was much the same as that of the mammoth aircraft now nosing into the gate before him.
Taking in the large red star on its fuselage. Palmer watched the plane ground to a halt. So intense was his concentration that Palmer didn’t notice the gaunt figure of his National Security Advisor taking a position at his side.
“Well, Mr. President, it appears that Comrade Rodin is right on time for your little party. I still wish that you’d reconsider asking him to board Kneecap with you. There’s more top-secret gear crammed into that aircraft than anywhere else on the planet.”