Everyone else sat down, but Patterson broke off her conversation with the State Department rep and came over to where Myles was standing. “Mr. President, we’re preparing a briefing for you now…”
“If this information is as hot as it seems, minutes may count,” Myles answered. “I don’t need a polished briefing. From what you told me before, the information is definite.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Refreshingly so. I’ve spent the past hour calling in people from agencies all over the government. I’m asking them to find something that might suggest that these aren’t nuclear weapons.”
She gestured, sweeping her arm wide to include the entire room. “I’ve got people from the CIA and DIA, of course, but also state, energy, and defense.” She pointed to one corner, where a young man and woman were arguing over a laptop keyboard. “Those two are from the NSA and Homeland Security. Now that we’ve downloaded the photographs,” she paused, “several times, I might add, those two are in charge of deleting the accounts from the cloud and making sure nobody else has downloaded the photos.”
“What about the two men who took these?”
She glanced at the wall clock. “They’re still driving from Vizag to our consulate in Hyderabad. They won’t get there until about noon local time.”
“And they are out of any danger? And our people with them?”
“Aside from the hazards of traffic in India,” she answered, smiling.
“Good,” Myles replied. “Now, show me the photos.”
“Sir,” she protested, “we need to put these in context…”
“Which will take hours, or more likely days. Just show me what you got.”
She offered him a chair, sat down next to him, and pulled over her laptop so it sat between them. She led off, “There are fifty-seven photos in all, taken on board the Indian submarine Chakra, in the naval base’s main torpedo depot, and in the building where the torpedoes are being converted.”
It took longer than she’d like, almost twenty-five minutes. After the first fifteen minutes, he caught her glancing at the clock, and said, “I had Evangeline clear my schedule this evening.”
She frowned. “Won’t that attract some attention?”
“It may,” he admitted, looking around the room, “but I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to keep this under wraps. Are all these people now briefed into the compartment?”
Making a face, she answered, “Briefed, yes. We’re still catching up on the paperwork.”
“Good enough,” responded Myles. “Please continue.”
Patterson picked up where she had left off and highlighted the critical points in each photograph that supported Samant and Petrov’s theory. As she worked her way down to the last six pictures, she paused. “The last photos are the most disturbing, Mr. President, and are the key to Vice Admiral Dhankhar’s plot.”
“That bad, eh?”
“Yes, sir, that bad,” replied Patterson as she clicked to the next picture. Myles gazed at the image; within seconds the expression on his face transformed from curiosity to depression. He let out a long despairing sigh.
“He’s out of his mind!” Myles whispered. “Does he truly believe he can get away with nuking China?”
“If he could have kept it completely under wraps, how would the Chinese know who to blame? The forensic analysis would have shown them to be nuclear weapons from Russia or us, and given the Kashmiri explosion, everything would point to Russia. Would China attack Russia in response based on such scant evidence? Highly unlikely given the fact that Russia’s own retaliatory strike would obliterate China.
“No, sir, it is a very nicely packaged conspiracy. Nothing would explicitly point to India.”
“What are we talking about here as far as damage potential is concerned?”
“A detailed assessment is being worked on, but basically everything within four or five miles of ground zero will likely be leveled. The damage radius will be even greater, and given this is essentially a ground burst, the radioactive fallout could cover thousands of square miles.”
Myles sat stunned. “So what you’re saying is five of China’s busiest export ports would be eliminated, a very large chunk of her shipping capacity destroyed, along with considerable collateral damage. This would almost certainly cause her economy to collapse — the political upheaval would constitute a dire threat to the Communist Party’s hold on power.”
“Yes, Mr. President, that appears to be Dhankhar’s goal.”
President Myles stood, and then began pacing, rubbing his face with his hands. Finally, he took a deep breath, turned back toward Patterson, and asked, “So, where do we stand?”
“In addition to the damage assessment, I have the Navy working on possible avenues of approach to the targets, how fast Chakra could go without being easily detected. We also need to try and whittle down the target set. They only have five weapons; there are ten targets on the list. And finally—” She pointed over to another corner. “—Anne Shields from communications is already working on several draft responses for you: What if we catch them in time, what if we catch them but it’s not in time…”
Myles nodded. “So you’ve covered all the bases. What are your recommendations? I’ll understand if they’re a little on the rough side.”
“We have to get Petrov and Samant out of there. And we have to tell the Indians. Right away. Now. We know where the weapons are, and they need to go get them. Gloves off. Surround the base, send in troops. Arrest Dhankhar and Orlav, and this Kirichenko fellow if we can find him, and start squeezing them for answers.”
“Very reasonable,” he agreed. “I’ll phone Andy Lloyd after we’re done here.”
“Sir, I’m glad you’re willing to move so quickly on this, but there’s a lot of analysis…”
“And you’ve got everyone started nicely. Let them do their jobs. Your task now is to convince the Indians, just like you convinced the Russians, that there are bootleg nukes on one of their naval bases, that there’s a nuclear conspiracy in the highest levels of their military, and that if Chakra sails with those weapons aboard, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
This time they were meeting on ground of Dhankhar’s choosing. Already on the defensive over Churkin’s death, the Russian had agreed without argument to the admiral’s peremptory summons. Besides, with Churkin gone, Kirichenko had no one to canvass the meeting place before he arrived or watch for eavesdroppers. If Dhankhar thought it was safe, that would have to do. If Dhankhar had set a trap for him, there was little he could do to avoid it.
The admiral waited in the lobby, reading the morning’s copy of the Hindu, which in spite of its name was published in English. He was tempted to order a gin and tonic, but settled for tea.
Kirichenko was on time, thankfully. Dhankhar didn’t want to waste a lot of time on this. Chakra’s mission was actually supposed to trigger a chain of events, and as her sailing date neared, he needed to prepare for those actions. He refused to consider the idea that the plan they had all worked and risked so much for might never happen.
As the Russian approached, the admiral motioned toward the elevator. Dhankhar selected the top floor and the Infinity restaurant. He remained silent as the elevator ascended. When the doors opened, Kirichenko immediately felt better about the venue. The restaurant was a glass-enclosed space on top of the hotel that offered a phenomenal view of the Bay of Bengal. There were many tables open, as the lunch rush had just ended, and Dhankhar chose one close to the glass wall and well away from the remaining diners.