“Is this true?” Narmonov asked.
The Defense Minister shrugged. “It depends on how you look at it. Their land-based rocket force is always at a higher level of alert than ours because of the lower maintenance requirements of their rockets. The same is true of their submarines, which spend far more time at sea than ours do. The technical difference may be small, but the psychological difference is not. The increased level of alert tells their people that something horrible is underway. I think that is significant.”
“I do not,” Golovko shot back.
Marvelous, Narmonov thought, two of my most important advisors cannot agree on something this important…
“We need to reply,” the Foreign Minister said.
PRESIDENT FOWLER:
WE HAVE NOTED YOUR INCREASED ALERT STATUS. SINCE MOST OF YOUR WEAPONS ARE IN FACT POINTED AT THE SOVIET UNION WE MUST ALSO TAKE PRECAUTIONS. I SUGGEST THAT IT IS VITAL THAT NEITHER OF OUR TWO COUNTRIES TAKE ANY ACTION THAT MIGHT SEEM PROVOCATIVE.
“That's the first time he didn't have it canned,” Elliot said. “First he says 'I didn't do it,' now he says we better not provoke him. What's he really thinking?”
Ryan looked over the faxes of all six messages. He handed them to Goodley. “Tell me what you think.”
“Pure vanilla. Looks like everyone is playing a very cautious game, and that's what they should be doing. We alert our forces as a precaution, and they do the same. Fowler's said that we have no reason to think they did it — that's good. Narmonov says both sides should play it cool on provoking the other side — that's good, too. So far, so good,” Ben Goodley thought.
“I agree,” the Senior Duty Officer said.
“That makes it unanimous,” Jack said. Thank God. Bob, I didn't know you had it in you.
Rosselli walked back to his desk. Okay, things appeared to be more or less under control.
“Where the hell have you been?” Rocky Barnes asked.
“Hot Line room, things appear to be fairly cool.”
“Not anymore, Jim.”
General Paul Wilkes was almost there. It had taken nearly twenty minutes to get from his house onto I-295 and from there to I-395, a total distance of less than five miles. Snowplows had barely touched this road, and now it was cold enough that what had been salted was freezing to ice anyway. Worst of all, those few D.C. drivers who were venturing out were showing their customary driving skill. Even those with four-wheel-drives were acting as though the additional traction made them immune to the laws of physics. Wilkes had just passed over South Capitol Street, and was now heading downhill towards the Maine Avenue exit. To his left, some maniac in a Toyota was passing him, and then came right, to head for the exit into downtown D.C. The Toyota skidded sideways on a patch of ice that front-wheel drive didn't master. There was no chance to avoid it. Wilkes broadsided the car at about fifteen miles per hour.
“The hell with it,” he said aloud. He didn't have time for this. The General backed up a few feet and started to maneuver around before the driver even got out. He didn't check his mirror. As he changed lanes, he was rear-ended by a tractor-trailer doing about twenty-five. It was enough to drive the General's car over the concrete divider and into the face of another car. Wilkes was killed instantly.
39
ECHOES
Elizabeth Elliot stared blankly at the far wall as she sipped her coffee. It was the only thing that made sense. All the warnings they'd had and ignored. It all fit. The Soviet military was making a power-play, and targeting Bob Fowler had to be part of it. We should have been there, she thought. He wanted to go to the game, and everyone expected him to, because Dennis Bunker owned one of the teams. I would have been there, too. I could be dead now. If they wanted to kill Bob, then they also wanted to kill me…
PRESIDENT NARMONOV:
I AM GRATIFIED THAT WE AGREE ON THE NECESSITY FOR CAUTION AND REASON. I MUST NOW CONFER WITH MY ADVISERS SO THAT WE MAY ASCERTAIN THE CAUSE OF THIS HORRIBLE EVENT, AND ALSO TO BEGIN RESCUE OPERATIONS. I WILL KEEP YOU INFORMED.
The reply that came back was almost immediate.
PRESIDENT FOWLER:
WE WILL STAND BY.
“That's simple enough,” the President said, looking at the screen.
Think so?" Elliot asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Robert, we've had a nuclear explosion at a location that you were supposed to be at. That's number one. Number two: we've had reports of missing Soviet nuclear weapons. Number three: how do we really know that it's Narmonov at the other end of this computer modem?” Liz asked.
“What?”
“Our best intelligence suggests the possibility of a coup d'etat in Russia, doesn't it? But we're acting as though such intelligence did not exist, even though we've had what very easily could be a tactical nuclear weapon — exactly what we think is missing — explode over here. We are not considering all of the potential dimensions here.” Dr. Elliot turned to the speaker phone. “General Borstein, how hard is it to get a nuclear device into the United States?”
“With our border controls, it's child's play,” NORAD replied. “What are you saying, Dr. Elliot?”
“I'm saying that we've had hard intel for some time now that Narmonov is in political trouble — that his military is acting up, and that there's a nuclear dimension. Okay, what if they stage a coup? A Sunday evening — Monday morning — is good timing, because everyone's asleep. We always assumed that the nuclear element was for domestic blackmail — but what if the operation was more clever than that? What if they figured they could decapitate our government in order to prevent our interference with their coup? Okay, the bomb goes off, and Durling is on Kneecap — just like he is right now — and they're talking to him. They can predict what we're going to think, and they pre-plan their statements over the Hot Line. We go on automatic alert, and so do they — you see? We can't interfere with the coup in any way.”
“Mr. President, before you evaluate that possibility, I think you need some outside advice from the intelligence community,” CINC-SAC said.
Another phone lit up. The yeoman got it.
“For you, Mr. President, NMCC.”
“Who is this?” Fowler asked.
“Sir, this is Captain Jim Rosselli at the National Military Command Center. We have two reports of contact between U.S. and Soviet forces. USS Theodore Roosevelt reports that they have splashed — that means shot down, sir — a flight of four inbound Russian MiG-29 aircraft—”
“What? Why?”
“Sir, under the Rules of Engagement, the captain of a ship has the right to take defense action to protect his command. Theodore Roosevelt is now at DEFCON-TWO, and as the alert level changes, you get more latitude in what you can do, and when you can take action. Sir, the second is as follows: there is an unconfirmed report of shots being exchanged between Russian and American tanks in Berlin. SACEUR says the radio message stopped — I mean, it was cut off, sir. Before that, a U.S. Army captain reported that Soviet tanks were attacking the Berlin Brigade at its base in southern Berlin, and that a tank battalion of ours was just about wiped out, sir. They were attacked in their lager by Soviet forces stationed just across from them. Those two things — the reports, I mean, were almost simultaneous. The reported times were just two minutes apart, Mr. President. We're trying to reestablish contact with Berlin right now, going through SACEUR at Mons, Belgium.”
“Christ,” Fowler observed. “ Elizabeth, does this fit into your scenario?”