“Will you start us off with an update, Lawrence?”
“Yes, Prime Minister.” He shivered. “They could have warmed this place up a bit though.”
“A hot cup of tea for the Secretary of State for Defence,” she called to her aide. “That will warm you up from the inside, Lawrence. We are meant to be a war cabinet, don’t forget.” She smiled.
“Thank you, Prime Minister.”
“Sucked into the Americans’ games, more like,” moaned the Home Secretary.
“Gentlemen,” the PM said firmly. “The Soviet Union is a real threat. If the current tensions between the Soviets and ourselves, NATO that is, continue or escalate, we could very well be sat down here with the doors slammed shut waiting for the missiles to fall. So, let’s get on with it, shall we? Lawrence.”
The Defence Secretary picked up a sheet of paper from his folio and scanned it quickly. “The American command post exercise has been in progress for three days now. The Americans are pushing hard on their Psyops Programme, Prime Minister, although they are trying to keep that knowledge within a very small circle of people. Oh, and there is nothing in writing.”
“I take it we are in that circle?”
“Yes, Prime Minister.”
“The United States are giving the USSR a bit of a rough ride then?”
“Yes, they are definitely trying to spook the Soviets.” He looked across at Edward Walker. “Isn’t that the case, Air Marshal?”
Walker, who was sitting opposite between the First Sea Lord and the Chief of the Defence Staff, looked left towards the PM. “Yes, Prime Minister, they are certainly giving the Soviets the jitters.”
Harriet Willis fixed him with one of her unwavering stares. “How?”
“By flying bombers directly at the Soviet Union,” he responded. “They are sending bombers over the North Pole, flying them as close as possible to Russian territorial boundaries, and waiting to be lit up by the Soviet Air Force’s radar.”
“Then what?”
“Then, Prime Minister, they turn back. They’re also using fighter bombers to probe along the Soviet’s Asian and European borders.”
Holmes interrupted. “It’s a risky strategy, Prime Minister.”
“Carry on, Air Marshal. How often are they doing this?”
“Yes, Prime Minister. At peak times? I’d say they’re conducting up to three flights a week. At irregular intervals naturally, so the Soviet Air Force don’t know when they’re coming. They just spook them; wait till they’ve been lit up by Russian radar then head for home.”
The First Sea Lord Alistair Palmer cleared his throat. “The US Navy has been doing much the same thing, Prime Minister. If the large naval exercise in 1981, involving over eighty warships where they got through the Greenland-Iceland-United Kingdom Gap undetected and carried out simulated attacks on Soviet targets, wasn’t enough to frighten them then the fleet exercise in the Pacific, involving three US carrier battle groups, in May this year certainly was.”
“But what about now?” interrupted the Home Secretary impatiently.
“Now, Home Secretary? US warships and submarines are operating in the Baltic and Black Seas, and are routinely sailing into the Barents Sea.”
“That’s right in their backyard,” added Holmes.
“They also have submarines simulating attacks against Soviet SSBNs beneath the polar ice cap,” continued Palmer, unperturbed, used to interruptions from Members of the Cabinet at meetings like this.
The large, hollow-sounding room was suddenly silent as the Prime Minister reflected on what she had just heard. Before she could ask any further questions, an aide came into the room, excused himself and approached Lawrence Holmes. He whispered into the Defence Secretary’s ear and handed him a piece of paper. The Defence Secretary quickly scanned it.
“Something urgent, Lawrence?”
“No, Prime Minister, just a routine signal about Grenada. Not like the flurry of activity we had toing and froing during October, prior to the American invasion,” he said with a light laugh. He slid the message across the table towards Mrs Willis, who picked it up and swiftly scanned its content.
“Well, it was a Realm of the Commonwealth,” she said as she read the message. She looked up again. “What is the current alert status?”
“Defcon 2, Prime Minister, but about to move up to Defcon 3,” responded Dominic Hamilton, Chief of the General Staff.
“Remind me?”
“Defcon 3, Prime Minister, is called ‘Roundhouse’. It involves an increase in force readiness.”
“Are we keeping pace with the American alert-states, Lawrence?”
“Yes, Prime Minister, we are moving our Bikini alert-state up to ‘Black Special’. The French and the Germans are also following suit.”
“Ah, the French. How are they taking all of this?” She said it with a smile.
“They are kicking up a bit of a fuss actually,” answered the Home Secretary. “President Michaud is comparing the current situation to that of the Cuban missile crisis.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “Détente does seem to be at a bit of a standstill at the present time.”
“Aren’t the Americans pushing things a bit too far, Prime Minister?” asked the Chief of the Defence Staff. “If they want to move the command post exercise up to Defcon 5, a planned nuclear attack, what’s to stop the Soviets getting really spooked and launching a pre-emptive strike?”
“It’s only an exercise,” responded the Home Secretary with a slight smirk.
Harriet Willis jumped in. “The Soviets don’t play games, Jeremy. There are still six days to go until the exercise is concluded.” She turned to the Secretary of State for Defence. “I want a daily update, Lawrence. We need to make sure we are in a position to support our American Allies at every turn regarding this exercise. And, should it take a turn for the worse, we need to be in a position to react.”
She pushed her chair back and stood up, the rest of the attendees following suit. The meeting was concluded. “I must get back to Chequers. Thank you, gentlemen.”
Chapter 8
“Come in, Yuri, come in.” Baskov slowly stood up from his seat, the arthritis in his hips playing up. He moved from behind his desk, making his way around its large counter.
“Thank you, Comrade General Secretary.”
They both air-kissed on their respective cheeks and then positioned themselves opposite each other on the long extension to the Russian leader’s impressive desk.
“What have you got for me, Yuri?” Baskov leant forward, his thick eyebrows slightly arched as he asked his visitor. “Is it getting a bit fraught with the Americans? What are they up to? Are they going to attack? Why are they testing our defences so frequently, Yuri?”
The Chairman of the KGB, Yuri Aleksandrov, looked slightly startled by his leader’s outburst. “We continue to monitor their activities, Comrade General Secretary.”
“So, what have you discovered?”
“There is some concern amongst my department. The Americans are using unique message procedures of a type we’ve not seen before.”
The Russian leader leant closer to his KGB chief. “In what way?”
“The message formats have changed; they are more sophisticated. The volume of traffic has also increased. In addition, Comrade General Secretary, during late October, there was a significant volume of communication between the United States and Great Britain.”
Baskov laughed. “The actor and the Lady of Steel, Yuri. Maybe they share a bed together.”
“Maybe they do,” responded Aleksandrov, sharing his leader’s humour.