A hush fell over the room, the tension was palpable. Norris took a deep breath and then sat down.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “General Miller, I want you to put together a plan for a pre-emptive strike, and I want it on my desk by four o’clock this afternoon. Understand?”
A faint smile crept across Miller’s lips. “Yes, sir.”
“Secretary Wheeler, you can work on a backup plan in case I change my mind,” Norris said. “As much as I don’t want to do this, I feel like it’s the best course of action. Now, everyone, let’s get to work.”
General Miller nodded at the president and gave him a faint smile along with a fist pump. Wheeler, however, remained in her seat.
“Barbara, are you all right?” Norris asked her as he prepared to leave the room.
She bit her lip and stared at the wall in front of her. “You can’t listen to Miller. He’ll lead you astray.”
“Come on, Barbara. You know what I’m facing here. I don’t want the last thing people remember before they go to the polls later this year is that I’m weak on national security.”
She sighed. “You can’t use polling numbers to govern. The people put you in this office to make decisions, not bend whichever way the wind blows. Grow a backbone and be a leader. And that starts with you standing up to Miller. If you’re worried about how people will perceive you now, just wait until you put us in another Vietnam—an unpopular, unwinnable, and unnecessary war.”
“Like I said, Barbara, write up a plan and if I like it better than Miller’s, I reserve the right to change my mind.”
“I could give you a million ideas,” she said. “And all of them will be better than trying to win a contest between two leaders trying to show who’s more macho.”
Norris interlocked his fingers behind his head and looked at the ceiling. “You really think North Korea is bluffing?”
“We don’t have any actionable intel, which tells me that Kim Yong-ju is probably leaking that information just to get you all riled up. He’s going to play you for the fool while gun-slinger Miller coaxes you on.”
He paused for a moment before answering. Barbara’s critique was hard to take, but he knew she was right. It’s why he appointed her to the position. She’d never minced words before when she was serving in the Senate and becoming the Secretary of State hadn’t changed her.
“Okay, I’ll sleep on it,” Norris said. “And just know that as of right now, I’m still undecided about what to do, but your way seems to make more sense.”
“And I know that’s what you’d rather do,” she said. “You always lead better from a position of strength rather than one of fear.”
With that statement, Wheeler got up and exited the situation room, leaving Norris by himself with his thoughts.
He sat with Wheeler’s words for a few minutes before getting up. He knew she was right.
All he needed from her now was a good excuse to tell Miller to shove his dreams of a conflict with North Korea.
CHAPTER 14
Central Siberia, Russia
HAWK STARED WIDE-EYED at Andrei Orlovsky, who templed his fingers as he surveyed his prisoner. Orlovsky wore a tailored gray suit and a pair of black Salvatore Ferragamo moccasins. As he paced around the room, the scent of too much Italian cologne wafted behind him. The once world-renowned illegal arms dealer was still portraying himself as a VIP from Venice, like a 45-year-old man still bragging about his days as the star quarterback while working at a car wash. If Orlovsky hadn’t been responsible for thousands of deaths, Hawk would’ve felt sorry for him.
“The infamous Brady Hawk,” Orlovsky said as a faint smile spread across his face, “delivered to me as if you fell out of the heavens. This is a most pleasant surprise to my day.”
“It’s only going to get worse from here.”
Orlovsky chuckled as he walked over to the corner of the room where a liquor caddy rested on a serving table. He poured a pair of drinks and then handed one to Hawk.
“It’s vodka,” Orlovsky said as he sat down in a chair across from Hawk. “It’s a custom for old friends to drink together in Russia.”
“Who said anything about us being friends?”
The two men who’d brought Hawk to Orlovsky’s compound stood against the wall near the door. They both tried to stifle laughs. Orlovsky turned slowly toward them and glared.
“Do you find his comment funny?” Orlovsky asked.
Their smiles disappeared as they turned silent.
Orlovsky threw back his drink and slammed it down on the table. He smacked his lips and shook his head while studying the glass.
“It’s like nectar from the gods,” Orlovsky said. “I hope you enjoy Russia’s finest.”
Hawk placed his glass on the table as well without having tasted a drop. “I’m more of a scotch guy.”
Orlovsky shrugged. “We drink vodka in Russia.”
Hawk glanced around the room, admiring the decor. What the house lacked in location, it made up for it in style and craftsmanship. The crown molding contained ornate carvings of soldiers engaged in battle. And from Hawk’s first glance, the scenes depicted appeared unique.
“Quite a place you’ve got,” Hawk said. “It’s much nicer than your home in Venice, but it’s in Siberia, so I’m not sure it’s worth it. By the way, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”
Orlovsky pulled a cigarette case out of his coat pocket and ignited the tobacco. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke through his nose.
“I have the same question for you,” he said. “At least my excuse is that I’m Russian.”
“A Russian with connections doesn’t live in the middle of Siberia unless he’s either disgraced or hiding.”
Orlovsky grunted. “You know little about Russia and even less about me.”
“Enlighten me.”
“I’d love to, but I need to take care of a little business.”
Orlovsky reached into his coat pocket and produced a gun. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he trained his weapon on Hawk’s head. Orlovsky moved closer as Hawk placed his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.
“Settle down,” Hawk said. “I’m not here for you. Your men brought me here, remember?”
Orlovsky jammed the barrel of the gun into Hawk’s head. “Do you have any idea what I had to endure while being held prisoner by the CIA?”
Hawk steadied his breathing, trying to remain calm. For a moment, he wondered if he’d be able to move fast enough to snatch the gun from Orlovsky, kill him, and shoot the other two men at the back of the room. But they were both armed, clutching their weapons. Then there were the armed men patrolling the perimeter of the house to consider. The odds were terrible, though they would give him a better chance of survival if Orlovsky’s trigger finger twitched.
Orlovsky backed away, but his gun was still pointed at Hawk’s head.
“It was horrible,” Orlovsky said. “Inhumane even. I didn’t even get three meals each day. My bed felt like it was made out of rocks. And I was awakened at odd hours of the night and interrogated by angry men who beat me over and over.”
Hawk sighed and shook his head, remaining quiet.
“Don’t give me that look,” Orlovsky said. “This is just the kind of arrogant thing I would expect from an American.”
“I feel sorry for you, Andrei,” Hawk said. “You blame others, completely unaware that you are at fault.”
“Me? At fault? I am innocent.”
Hawk huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Selling weapons of mass destruction to terrorists who use them to kill thousands of innocent people hardly qualifies as innocent.”
“How do you Americans say it? ‘A man has to make a living’?”