Gribov looked at the chart briefly and nodded. “Not a problem, Admiral. The ice this time of year in the Kara Sea is perhaps fifteen to eighteen centimeters thick. Victory can easily plow through that. The hull is rated for ice two and a half meters thick.”
“How fast can you get there?” The admiral’s face frowned again.
“My maximum speed is just over twenty-one knots, but that is only in open water. Even in thin ice, I have to slow down.” Gribov grabbed a pair of dividers and measured the distance. After calculating the time in his head, he said, “If all goes well, two days.”
The admiral nodded approvingly. “Excellent, Captain! You will be taking Captain Zhikin and twelve of his divers to these coordinates,” explained Loktev as he handed a sheet of paper to Gribov. “Myself and two of my staff will be accompanying them, as well as six Spetsnaz commandos.”
“Spetsnaz?!” Gribov exclaimed. “Admiral, just what are my crew and I getting into here?”
“That is a state secret that you don’t need to know, Captain,” growled Loktev. “Your job is to get Zhikin and his divers to Techeniye Guba. He’ll take care of the rest.”
It felt good to finally relax. Dhankhar sipped his gin and tonic as he looked out across the club’s grounds to the Arabian Sea. The wind was coming off the water; its coolness refreshed the body, while the heady salty air invigorated the senses. The United Services Club was the perfect place to hold their meeting. It was an elite country club. Only serving and retired officers and a few prominent civilians could be members. Foreigners had to receive special permission, well in advance, to even step through the main gate. The club itself was located in the Colaba area of Mumbai. Situated at the far end of the peninsula, the club was deep within the Navy Nagar, or navy preserve, jointly run and policed by India’s armed forces. No one would consider it unusual for the country’s seniormost military officers to congregate at the exclusive club for a round of golf and cocktails. Now, with the eighteen holes behind them, they could get to the business part of their gathering.
“Come, Badu,” said Admiral Jal Rajan softly as he placed a hand on Dhankhar’s shoulder. “We are ready to begin the meeting.”
Dhankhar gave out a deep sigh, reluctant to leave his private tranquillity. “It’s so peaceful, Jal. I have so longed for this.”
“I know, my friend. And all of India will eventually enjoy a peace such as this, but only after our work is through. Now, come. You have the lead-off presentation.”
“Aye, sir,” Dhankhar replied, then downed the rest of his drink.
He strode into the conference room filled with a veritable Who’s Who of the Indian military. Admiral Rajan took his seat at the head table to the left of General Nirmal Joshi, Chief of Staff of the Army, and Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee. To Joshi’s right sat Air Chief Marshal Danvir Suri, Chief of Staff of the Air Force, and Lieutenant General Bipin Raina, Chief of the Integrated Defence Staff. These four were the most powerful men in the Indian armed forces, and the driving force behind Operation Vajra.
Named after the thunderbolt wielded by Indra, the Hindu king of the gods, and the god of weather and war, the nuclear strike against China was designed to finish the wounded dragon economically and politically. Although badly bruised by the war with the Littoral Alliance, China still possessed considerable military and economic power. Given time, she would recover. In the meantime, the Chinese waged a proxy war against India by providing substantial aid to Pakistan’s military, as well as the Islamic terrorist groups in the northern tribal region.
Following the U.S.-brokered truce between the Littoral Alliance and China, India suddenly found itself constrained militarily, unable to attack Chinese targets directly. China, on the other hand, was now free to pour resources into the shadow war it had started. As Pakistan’s resistance increased, buoyed by Chinese weapons and supplies, India’s offensive ground to a halt. With casualties rising, the Indian president agreed to peace negotiations and sent a team off to Geneva, despite the Chiefs of Staff Committee’s strong reservations. After months of heated discussions, there was still no resolution in sight, and the army began moving forward with its planned spring offensive.
Then in early January, the Indian minister of defense suggested in a press conference that a return to the status quo antebellum, Pakistan’s primary demand, was not outside the realm of possibility. Furious that their government would even consider abandoning captured territory before the main objectives for the war had been achieved, and after a river of Indian blood had been spilled, senior officers seriously considered a military coup. It was Dhankhar who suggested that the “center of gravity” of the conflict wasn’t the Indian government, or even Pakistan — it was China’s support to the Pakistanis. Without that support, the war would quickly be resolved in India’s favor. Dhankhar then volunteered that he had been in contact with someone who could provide the tools they would need to win, and knew how those weapons could be deployed secretly. The swift strike against China’s battered economy would be completely anonymous, and lethal. If the four men at the head table were the heart of Operation Vajra, Badu Singh Dhankhar was the brain.
“Gentlemen, would you please take your seats?” asked Joshi. As the stragglers shuffled over to their chairs, the general motioned for Dhankhar to come forward.
“First of all, I want to thank you all for coming,” Joshi continued. “I know this was an unexpected trip, but given the circumstances it couldn’t be helped. I would also like to thank our host, Vice Admiral Mehra, Chief of the Western Naval Command. You’ve done well, Pradeep, in arranging these wonderful accommodations on such short notice, but don’t think for a moment that this will excuse you from paying off your wagers on the golf game.”
The collection of men laughed while Mehra feigned disappointment. “Next, we’ll get a status update on Operation Vajra from Vice Admiral Dhankhar. Badu, the floor is yours.”
“Thank you, sir.” Dhankhar bowed toward the army chief of staff. “Gentlemen, soon after the unfortunate incident in Pakistan’s northern tribal region a little over two weeks ago, I spoke with General Joshi, Admiral Rajan, and Air Chief Marshal Suri, recommending that we speed up the timetable for executing Vajra.
“Initially, I was concerned with all the extra noses probing for the source of the Kashmiri weapon that someone might accidentally stumble across our facility. And, indeed, we did have a close call. Fortunately, two of our civilian colleagues with the Intelligence Bureau and the Central Bureau of Investigation provided sufficient warning to clear the workshop before the investigation team arrived. Assistant Deputy Director Singh and Special Director Thapar, I wish to publicly thank you for your critical services.”
The military officers present applauded heartily as the two civilians nodded their appreciation. Raising his hand, Dhankhar quieted his audience. “However, we are not out of the woods just yet. Even though the Americans’ analysis has categorically demonstrated the nuclear blast was not from an Indian weapon, which did have the beneficial result of terminating the internal investigation, the entire world is now looking for a possible Russian or Chinese source of rogue nuclear weapons. And this, gentlemen, represents an even greater threat to us, as there is a very short line connecting the Russian arms dealer to this august gathering.”
The crowd’s murmurings echoed the mixed feelings they all felt about the U.S. administration’s press release. On the one hand, India was no longer being held accountable for the “despicable act.” But on the other, a multinational effort had been launched to track down the source of the weapon, or weapons, obtained by the Pakistani terrorists. An internal Indian investigation was troubling enough, but it could be handled, and influenced. An international investigation sponsored by the major nuclear powers, and endorsed by Delhi, would be much more difficult to control.