In a flash Curtis had a notebook open to his stall’s research notes. “Our analysis reveals three likely striking points, based on the deployment of his forces at the present time:
“The primary thrust will come from Smorgon Army Air Base in northwestern Byelorussia, with one armor brigade of fifteen thousand troops and two hundred tanks, one air brigade with about sixty attack aircraft, and one infantry brigade, with about fifteen thousand troops. They are all within two hours’ travel time of Vilnius, with the exception of the attack helicopters, which can be over the capital in less than thirty minutes and a few fixed-wing attack aircraft that can strike within ten minutes.
“The secondary strike will be within Lithuania itself. Byelorussia has approximately ten thousand troops stationed throughout Lithuania. Depending on the extent of the disruption of communications caused by our raids and the Lithuanian raids, they can be mobilized in as little as one hour.
“The third strike will come from the territory of Kalinin, the little slice of Russia southwest of Lithuania,” Curtis continued. “Most troops there are Byelorussian, under direct Russian supervision. The Byelorussians have been reinforcing their base at Chernyakhovsk, in the center of Kalinin — they now have at least a full air brigade stationed there, with at least a hundred fixed- and rotary-wing aircraft, and they’ve been swapping out their usual light transports with attack and troop assault helicopters. They can strike the city of Kaunas and the port city of Klaipeda in about thirty minutes. This unit has a very small infantry group with it, but they can do considerable damage from air strikes and then reconfigure for parachute drops and troop transport.”
“So in less than an hour,” the Vice President calculated, “the Byelorussian troops can be on the move all throughout Lithuania, and in just a couple of hours they can be attacking them in force?”
“I’m afraid so, Mr. President.”
There was silence in the Oval Office.
The very event that all of them had feared from the beginning was happening — Lithuania was under attack.
“Case, get President Kapocius on the phone for me right away,” the President ordered.
“We’re trying,” Timmons, the chief of staff, reported. “Lines have been disrupted. We’re patching through the U.S. Embassy, but things are pretty scrambled there, too.”
“He may have evacuated the capital as well,” Secretary of State Dana-hall offered.
“I want to talk to Kapocius,” the President repeated. “I need his direction. Jesus, I can’t make this decision for him…
“You have to respond, Mr. President,” the Vice President said. “Gintarus Kapocius authorized American military aircraft to overfly his country. He was counting on us not only to rescue our own people, but to protect his country. We have the authority.”
“I want to hear it from him, “the President snapped. “I’m not going to start a war on his soil without full and unequivocal permission. Especially with the threat of a damned nuclear release! Christ, what a fucking mess.”
“Sir, we’ve got a contingency plan for this,” Curtis interjected. “General Lockhart of U.S. European Command would gain the Twenty-sixth Marines, the Seventh Fleet detachment in the Baltic Sea, the Third Army, and Seventeenth and Third Air Force — we can put all those units on full alert immediately, along with the Air Battle Force in South Dakota. That’s twenty thousand troops, two thousand Marines, four fighter wings, six light and medium bomber wings, electronic-warfare support, communications, transportation—”
“For God’s sakes, General, hold on a minute,” the President ordered. “I know you have a contingency plan. I need to think.” Everyone fell silent. The President rose from his chair, paced the Oval Office for a few minutes, and stopped at the doors leading to the Rose Garden. He stared at his own reflection in one of the bullet-resistant polycarbonate windows and then returned to his desk but did not sit. “With our forces in Germany, how long would a mobilization take?” the President asked.
“We can begin limited air operations — reconnaissance and limited air strikes — over Lithuania in about ten to twelve hours,” Curtis replied. “However, realistically we’d have to wait until tomorrow night, since we couldn’t have anything put together tonight and we’d have a much tougher time in daytime operations. In three days we can begin full air operations.
“Ground operations are tougher unless we get permission to cross the Polish border into Lithuania, and that’s very unlikely. It’ll take the Marines’ Second Marine Expeditionary Force, about forty thousand Marines, at least a week to set up for an amphibious assault.”
“So at least ten hours for any combat air operations, and possibly not for another twenty-four to seventy-two hours,” the President summarized. “And the Byelorussians, if they decided to invade now, would use all tomorrow to drive across Lithuania. They could take the capital before we’d get one plane off the ground.”
“We could run air operations in the daytime, sir,” Curtis said. “I don’t have a current weather report, but if the weather is poor we’d stand a better chance. But casualties will increase in daylight operations until we take control of the skies. Without forward bases or overflight privileges over countries like Poland or Latvia, neither of which I think we could get, our aircraft and helicopters would have to fly hundreds of miles overwater from Denmark, Norway, or Germany.”
“And that’s if those countries will allow us to stage combat forces from their territories,” Danahall interjected. “They very well may wait several days, or wait for a United Nations Security Council resolution, before allowing us to launch strike aircraft from bases in their countries.
The President looked at Curtis, and for the first time Curtis saw the strain of the situation in the President’s eyes. “You mean we could very well watch the Byelorussians or the Commonwealth of Independent States overrun Lithuania — and there’s nothing we could do about it?”
“I don’t think that’s realistic, Mr. President,” Secretary of Defense Preston said. “I think all those countries would support us if we decided to go ahead — England and Germany, certainly, considering what the Soviets and Byelorussians did to the ambassador from Iceland and the Vice President of Lithuania — not to mention one of our own senators — during that so-called riot at Denerokin.”
“The distances may be too great for helicopters right away,” Curtis added, extinguishing his cigar, “but F-111 bombers from England, A-10 and F-16s configured with Maverick antitank missiles from Germany and Denmark have plenty of striking power and range to do the job. It’d take several days to deploy F-117 stealth bombers and F-15E bombers from the mainland. The Air Battle Force can be tasked to launch within a day, but we’d need forward basing for them to make them effective.”
This was the telling moment when he had to decide whether to send young men off to fight, perhaps to die, in a foreign country, the President realized. Before, it was just a handful of Marines to reinforce the American Embassy in Vilnius and a few more to find an American. Sneak in, sneak out. Both noble goals, both low numbers of men, both in darkness, both low-risk operations. This new scenario was shaping up differently — now he had to send more men, more equipment, and all in daylight, with the enemy troops fully alerted.
“I need better options, General,” the President decided. “I need better direction from all the parties involved. I need to know what President Svetlov has in mind. I need to know what President Kapocius wants. I need to know exactly what we’re facing. Otherwise I’d be throwing away American lives in a conflict, and that I will not do.”