“Mm-hmm.” Annika nodded sagely. “And have you noticed all the new antenna rigs on the ridge south of town? Not cell towers. Something else.”
Klara made a mental note — someone else was observing the buildup. It was time to tighten her recon routes. But she simply said, “It’s almost like we’re preparing for something we’re not allowed to say out loud.”
“Exactly,” Annika replied, pleased. “It’s almost like saying Voldemort.” She laughed at her own joke before continuing. “And here’s the worst part, Klara: no one’s saying anything officially. Just rumors, whispers from busybodies like me. But if those cables go down — poof — no banking, no internet, not even landlines. We’d be blind and deaf overnight, cut off from the outside world.”
Klara sipped her tea, warm and sharp on her tongue. “I had no idea. It sounds like we would be very vulnerable if that happened,” she murmured, then added, “Ugh, I can’t even imagine the confusion something like that would cause, especially with all the extra visitors coming this spring for the Baltic Wings Festival I’ve been organizing. Makes me wonder if the government is doing enough to keep the peace. We’re a small country, we just want to be left alone.”
Annika gave her a look — part question, part concern. “Well, I don’t know about the government. I’m just a simple shopkeeper. But did I hear that right, you’re still going through with that birding festival?”
“Of course,” Klara said lightly. “If we cancel every time someone sneezes in Moscow or Beijing, we’ll never get anything done. Besides, it might be good for morale. People need something to focus on… something that feels normal.”
Annika nodded. “True, you’re not wrong. Just… keep your eyes open, dear.”
Klara smiled. “Always.”
As Annika moved off to help another customer, Klara leaned back, letting the tea and tension settle. The cable attack had nearly succeeded — barely stopped in time. But the narrative was already morphing into local myth: rumors, half-truths, and strategic uncertainty.
Exactly as planned, she thought.
Now, all she had to do was find ways to keep stoking the right fires at the right times. As she sipped her tea, her mind began to plot ideas, scenarios working themselves over in her head.
Chapter Ten:
Don’t Cause a Panic
The secure conference room on the second floor of the headquarters building was steeped in history, having served the American Army since 1945 and the German Army dating back to 1936. Sitting at the polished mahogany table brought back memories of Jim Batista’s time in uniform, before his retirement, back when he had been a warrant officer. He set his ceramic mug down on the table. The bitter liquid had done little to cut through the jet lag gnawing at his bones. Outside the windowless room, a light snow dusted the Swabian hills surrounding Vaihingen, a suburb of Stuttgart where US European Command was headquartered. Inside the room, it was anything but cold as the temperature rose with the pressure of events.
“Gentlemen, let’s dispense with the pleasantries,” Batista said, his Utah accent sharpening each word. “We have a Chinese spy ship burned to the waterline off Gotland, eleven dead, and NATO ports cataloged like a targeting package. All this while Moscow and Beijing prep for the largest military exercise since the 1984 REFORGER. I’m a student of history, so tell me how we’re not looking at 2022 all over again.”
General Nathaniel Calder, dual-hatted as both EUCOM Commander and SACEUR, leaned forward in his chair. The Spartan coin he habitually carried clicked against the table as he set it down. At fifty-eight, Calder still looked like he could run a 5K before breakfast — and often did, much to his staff’s exhaustion.
“Jim, the parallels aren’t lost on any of us,” Calder said, his Colorado drawl carrying the weight of command. “But there’s a difference between preparation and provocation. We start flooding the Baltics with armor, we might just give Goryunov the excuse he’s looking for.”
Secretary of Defense T. J. Varnell shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming a pattern on his tablet. The former tech magnate turned Pentagon chief might have traded the casual look of Silicon Valley for tailored suits, but his mind still worked in algorithms and decision trees.
“With respect, General, when has restraint ever deterred Russian aggression?” Varnell’s California-neutral accent carried an edge. “Georgia, Crimea, Donbas — each time we showed restraint, they took it as weakness.”
Lieutenant General Mark “Bear” Sheridan, Deputy EUCOM Commander, rubbed the bear claw pendant in his hand like a fidget — a nervous tic his staff knew meant he was deep in thought. The Alaskan’s massive frame dwarfed his chair, making him appear even larger than he was.
“The Swedes are spooked,” Sheridan said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. “Can’t say I blame them. That Chinese ship was mapping their infrastructure like they were planning an invasion. Hell, they had thermite grenades. That’s not intelligence gathering, that’s sabotage prep in case they got caught.”
Batista nodded. “Yeah, which brings us to the elephant in the room. Prime Minister Lindqvist reached out through back channels. She wants to know when we can have NATO forces on Gotland to help shore up their defenses ahead of this May exercise.”
The room fell silent for a moment as they thought about the request. The Swedish military maintained a small contingent of forces on the island but had never offered to host NATO forces behind the occasional exercise. The island was effectively an unsinkable aircraft carrier in the middle of the Baltic Sea, a prize Russia would love to capture should hostilities break out between NATO and the Eurasian Defense and Economic Pact.
Major General William “Duke” Morrison, the SOCEUR Commander, stopped spinning his wedding ring — a sure sign the special operations chief was now fully engaged. The former Delta operator’s scarred hands told stories his classified record couldn’t. “It should go without saying, Gotland’s the key to the Baltic,” Morrison said, his Arkansas drawl slow and measured. “It was a prime target during the Cold War and it’s a prime target now. If the Swedes are willing to allow us to station assets there, we should take them up on the offer. With a proper A2/D2 setup, we could bottle up the Baltic and provide an aerial umbrella of protection that would extend over Kaliningrad, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Sweden, and Norway. It also gives us a safe position to fire extended-range rocket artillery over those countries and the likely avenues of attack into NATO territory should the ChiComs and Russians decide to get froggy.”
Calder picked up his Spartan coin, rolling it between his fingers. “You’re the strategist, Jim. What are you thinking? What’s the President’s temperature on this?”
Batista leaned back, studying the faces around the table. These were warriors, not politicians. They understood the knife’s edge they walked. “President Ashford has preauthorized the forward deployment of the 1st Armor and 3rd Infantry Divisions if needed,” Batista announced, watching their reactions. “He’s taking this seriously, as am I. The question is, what do we put on Gotland that provides deterrence without escalation?”
“I think Duke already suggested it,” replied the SecDef. His fingers tapped on his tablet, pulling up force deployment options. “I’ve been war-gaming this since the Baltic incident and I think I might have something that could work. We could deploy the First Battalion, 59th Air Defense Artillery. They could provide an umbrella over the entire region. Patriot batteries for the high-altitude threats, HIMARS for precision fires. Leonidas-IIIs for counterdrone. It gives us a mobile, lethal, defensive, and offensive option should we need it.”