Our own Patrick Carrigan attended. At that time, a nuclear attack scenario, much like the one we currently face, was presented to the group. Though a great deal of controversial discussion ensued, the panel eventually reached an agreement. No population, no matter how socially conscious, could accept a nuclear attack without any visible response on their government’s part. As we learned during the mid-1980’s in dealing with the crisis of terrorism, if the guilty parties can be found and isolated, they must be subsequently eliminated.
Turn your cheek from this nuclear strike, Mr. President, and you’ll be facing an insurrection that will make the Viet Nam protests seem like a children’s birthday party!”
Of all the unlikely places, George Michaelson found support from the lips of Viktor Rodin.
“I am certain that if the tables were turned, I would be faced with the very same dilemma. I would not expect my people to allow a flight of Trident missiles into the Rodina and, as you Say merely turn the other cheek.
Yet, I fear that a secondary strike on your part will prompt our generals to answer with a counter strike I fear President Palmer is correct in his assumption that this is exactly what the conspirators are hoping for. If America can’t be crippled by a single first-strike attack, the next best thing would be to accept some casualties and answer with an even larger attack.”
“And there goes the ball game!” Palmer concluded succinctly.
His terse comment was punctuated by an abrupt shaking of the cabin, as Kneecap plowed into a pocket of rough, unstable air. As the floor and walls began vibrating around them, a sudden change in the previously steady whine of the plane’s engines indicated that the pilot was already seeking a smoother flight path. As the jumbo jet stabilized, a loud chime sounded through the intercom. This was followed by the firm, calm voice of the pilot.
“Please excuse the turbulence, ladies and gentlemen.
We’re passing on the fringe of a low pressure system that’s currently moving into Mexico. The instability extends a bit higher than we expected, so please make certain that your seat belts are securely fastened. We intend to make every effort to reach some smoother air as soon as we are able.”
As the pilot’s explanation ended, there was a loud knock on the conference room door. Palmer said, “Enter,” and the Premier’s secretary, Olga Tyumen, poked her head sheepishly inside.
“Do come in, my dear,” the President prompted.
The shapely blonde appeared a bit uncomfortable as she surveyed the grim faces before her. Noticing her uneasiness. Palmer said lightly, “I hope that group back in the staff quarters are behaving themselves.
It’s not often that Kneecap is graced by such a beautiful woman. If anyone gets out of hand, Olga, you be certain to notify me personally.” She blushed and said, “Thank you. Comrade President.
But everything is most comfortable. Your crew has been most cooperative.”
As the plane was buffeted by another powerful gust of turbulence, Olga found herself thrown off balance.
Only the quick reflexes and tight grasp of Robert Palmer kept her from toppling over. Still holding her firmly in his arms, the President gently said, “You’d better get back to your seat and buckle in, my dear.
When our pilot gives us these warnings, he’s usually not wasting his breath. What was it that you needed?”
Olga took a step back and, holding onto an empty chair, spoke to Viktor Rodin.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Comrade General Secretary, but I thought that you’d want to know about the contents of a strange report I just received from PVO headquarters.”
Carefully reaching over the table, she handed Rodin a folded sheet of notepaper. The Premier quickly read it and confusion filled his face.
“My, this is an odd turn of events. I certainly did not order it.”
President Palmer said calmly, “Perhaps we could be of some assistance.”
“Oh, of course,” Rodin returned.
“I’m not sure what this means, but our national command headquarters reports that the pilot of my personal IL-78 aircraft has just announced that he has taken oft from Los Angeles and has requested a flight plan back to the USSR. Perhaps it’s all a misunderstanding, but this is surely not on my authority.”
Patrick Carrigan reacted first. “We were informed of the IL-78’s request for take-off a quarter of an hour ago. It was assumed that it had been initiated by the General Secretary, so it was routinely approved.”
“There must be some rational reason behind this unexpected turn of events,” the Premier reflected.
“Olga, please be so good as to try to reach the aircraft.
Perhaps the pilot can tell us just what is going on there.”
“Could this have something to do with the takeover on the Vulkan’!” Carrigan asked.
Rodin held his response until Olga Tyumen left the compartment.
“Right now, I really can’t say. All I know for certain is that, at the moment, I can’t take anything for granted.”
Sensing his guest’s frustration. President Palmer said, “This is a most confusing day for all of us, my friend. If somehow the fates are with us, and we see ourselves past this crisis, we must do everything within our power to insure that such a nightmare can never threaten us again. The immediate abolition of all nuclear weapons will be a first step in guaranteeing the security of the planet for the generations that follow.”
“You will certainly have my complete cooperation,” said the Premier, who now seemed drained of all energy.
“I just hope that it isn’t already too late.”
With this, the President excused his advisors — after accepting a plea on their part for him to keep his mind open to the military options just presented. Alone once more, the two leaders of the world’s mightiest nations somberly faced each other.
“Would you really order a nuclear counter strike if the Vulkan’s missiles are released?” Rodin asked quietly.
The President thought for a moment, then said, “Even though my heart says absolutely no, I wonder if I will have much choice in the matter.
I can only continue to pray that I won’t be forced to make such a grave decision.”
Rodin swiveled in his chair to gaze out of the porthole. As he did so, the plane shook violently.
Tightly grasping the arms of his chair, he peered outside. It took the Premier only seconds to locate the apparent source of the turbulence.
Clearly visible in the skies beyond was a massive formation of swirling black clouds. From within the towering, dark column, the stacatto flash of lightning indicated the storm front’s violent fury.
As he watched this raw display of natural violence, Rodin reflected on one disturbing element of the message that Olga had just relayed to him. In fact, so disturbing was its essence that he had been unable to reveal it to the Americans. Admiral of the Fleet Stanislav Sorokin had to have been the one to authorize the take-off of Rodin’s IL-78 command plane.
This could only mean that the esteemed naval officer himself was one of the conspirators.
Shocked by this revelation, Rodin shivered involuntarily.
Struggling to clear his mind, the General Secretary mentally assembled the evidence that pointed toward the admiral’s guilt. From the very beginning, Rodin had known that the malefactors had to be a small cabal of individuals occupying high positions of power. A thorough knowledge of naval procedures would be a most valuable necessity. Sorokin had been an outspoken opponent of Viktor Rodin’s conciliatory position with the West from the start. Fearful of what the world would be like if the current massive military machines were abolished, the admiral must have decided upon a Counterforce strike as a last resort.