You should be more concerned with your own effort in making certain that this mess doesn’t get completely out of hand. I don’t know how this cowardly act of mutiny came to pass, but I want it stemmed, and stemmed now! Find me the malefactors, Admiral.
Your incompetency so far can’t be excused!”
Sheepishly, Sorokin angled his glance down to his feet as the Premier turned to rejoin the American President. Though he fumed inwardly, Sorokin did his utmost to contain his rising temper.
How dare that insolent moron talk to him in that manner! Didn’t the fool realize whom he was addressing?
The admiral was already serving his country when Rodin was still wetting the bed. Soon Viktor Rodin would know just who the foolish one was!
Even if the Premier missed the warhead that had been intended to take him out, it would already be too late to interfere. The elimination of the imperialist command posts would signal the end of the capitalists ability to defend themselves. The soldiers of the Rodina wouldn’t just sit back and mourn the Yankees losses — they would attack and end the American threat forever! Now, if only he could convince the pilot of the flying Kremlin to take to the air, perhaps he, too, could share in the upcoming victory. Stimulated by this thought, his great depression of the last few hours dissipated like a summer fog. Feeling like a condemned prisoner suddenly given a full reprieve, he continued on down the walkway to have a few words with the IL-76’s flight crew.
A quarter of an hour later, Viktor Rodin found himself strapped in a chair in the forward conference room of the aircraft known as Kneecap.
More spacious and comfortable than his IL-76 command plane, the E-4B appeared to be a most well designed vehicle. So far, he had seen only the forward portion of the fuselage where the President’s private quarters were located. But his host had promised to show him the rest of the plane after their initial meeting was concluded.
Minutes after they entered Kneecap it was taxiing to their take-oft position. There was little doubt that the Americans were in a hurry to get airborne. Rodin couldn’t blame them. Not knowing exactly when, where, or if the Vulkan’s missiles would be released, they could only prepare for the worst. Since he was directly responsible for this tragic mess, the Premier could only express his sincere apologies and do his best to defuse the volatile situation before it was too late.
Only after the plane had attained its cruising altitude did Robert Palmer join him. Though they had met but a short time before, Rodin felt as if they were old friends, reunited after years of separation.
As Palmer slipped into a chair on the opposite side of the rectangular walnut table, Rodin did his best to express his true feelings.
“Once again, Robert, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for this inexcusable dilemma we find ourselves in.
It is my direct responsibility, and therefore I can only plead for your understanding.”
“Pleas aren’t necessary, Viktor. In a way, each of us equally shares responsibility. Such a crisis was bound to happen sooner or later.
Actually, I’m amazed that this is the first time such a horrible thing has come to pass. As holders of the world’s primary nuclear arsenals, such a crisis had to be expected as an eventuality.
I’m only sorry that you and I didn’t meet much earlier. A world without The Bomb would be free from such madness.” “Well said, Comrade,” Rodin sighed.
“If we can get through this dark day, there will be no excuses for us to delay the immediate banning of nuclear weapons from the face of the planet. I can only hope that we are not too late.”
When the plane shook in a slight pocket of turbulence, Rodin swiveled around to peer out a small window. It was a cloudless day; the blue waters of the Pacific were clearly visible, 37,000 feet below.
“Our destiny awaits us beneath those waters, Robert. I feel it’s my duty to relate to you a detailed list of the Vulkan’s intended targets.
Perhaps you might even consider the evacuation of specific locations.
Who knows how many lives such an act could save The Premier reached over and handed Palmer a single sheet of lined paper. As the President’s eyes skimmed the list, the scope of the potential catastrophe was disturbingly evident. With his voice trembling, he responded softly.
“Do you mind if I give this information to my staff?”
“Of course not. Comrade. This is why I’ve given it to you. Any other data that you require is also at your service.”
The President picked up one of the four telephones that graced the table and punched in a single digit.
“Delores, please have Pat Carrigan see me at once.”
As he replaced the handset, he looked up thoughtfully.
“I know that nuclear-targeting plans are among the most secretive areas of military operations. Your openness is most appreciated. I hope that the disclosure of such information won’t affect the ultimate outcome of this matter. We still have several hours until those missiles are due to be launched. It is imperative that we spend this time wisely. I think that the first step would to be to set up a conference call between ourselves, the Pentagon, and your PVO command headquarters. Our efforts must be coordinated in order to reach the Vulkan well before the missiles are released. Have you been able to determine the individuals responsible for the unauthorized release of those launch codes?”
Somberly, Rodin shook his head.
“My most trusted aides are currently in the midst of such an investigation.
We’ve only been able to determine that it is attributable to a small group of malcontents. The Soviet Union’s military and intelligence arms are just as shocked by this traitorous action as we are.
“Of course, the primary inquiry is taking place among my cryptographic staff. To make certain that other weapons cannot be released, the members of this hand-picked unit were immediately replaced and the launch codes altered. I have authorized the MVD, our internal police force, to initiate a probe separate from that of the KGB to insure a thorough investigation.
One thing I guarantee is that the madmen responsible will be uprooted!
We shall not rest until this is accomplished.”
There was a knock on the cabin door.
“Yes, come in,” the President said.
The door swung open and a nondescript, gray-suited, middle-aged man curiously eyed the Premier before addressing Robert Palmer.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. President?”
“Patrick Carrigan, I’d like you to meet General Secretary Rodin.” The two nodded leadenly toward each other as Palmer continued.
“Pat here is my National Security Advisor. I think that he’d better take a look at this target list before we set up that conference call.”
Palmer handed his advisor the sheet of paper.
Carrigan remained standing while he read its contents and appeared shaken. His face was noticeably drained of color as he looked back at the President.
“Pretty scary stuff, huh Pat?” Palmer said calmly.
“In the spirit of openness and cooperation, the General Secretary has offered us this information. You are free to give it to the Pentagon and to take all necessary precautions — short of full civilian evacuation. One thing I don’t want on our hands is a public panic. As is the case in this entire crisis, information will be strictly on a need-to-know basis.”
Carrigan responded hesitantly.
“Sir, considering that the only major population center listed here is Los Angeles, shouldn’t we reconsider evacuation?
Even just a couple of hours’ notice could save millions of lives!”