German Chancellor Lidwina Klein joined the conversation. “I realize this is my first council meeting, but I am shocked at the backbones missing from some Alliance members. That is the root of our problem.
“When Russia last invaded Lithuania and Ukraine, NATO failed to take action, unable to reach consensus in response to the most flagrant violation, an invasion of an Alliance country. We did nothing and the Russians took notice. They sensed our fear. I see it in your eyes as I look around the table. If we do not take action, the Russians will press forward, taking whatever land they want. They will carve up Lithuania, annex Ukraine, install puppet governments in the Baltics, and they won’t stop there. Russia will not deem itself safe until there is no Alliance left to oppose it.”
Klein’s gaze swept across the NATO leaders gathered this morning. “We must act, and act quickly. I propose the resolution be put to a vote within twenty-four hours.”
When Klein finished, the American president glanced around the table, noticing numerous nods. The resolution was gaining momentum with the German chancellor’s forceful backing. He pulled the microphone toward him and requested to be recognized. The secretary general turned the floor over to the president.
“There are two things I must relay to the council,” the president began. “The first is that there has been a military coup in Russia. President Kalinin is no longer in control. Kalinin’s Chief of the General Staff, General Andropov, is calling the shots.”
There were murmurings around the table following the revelation. The president debated whether to reveal Kalinin had escaped and that the U.S. was planning a rescue, then decided against it. He couldn’t risk the possibility that the information might leak out.
“The second issue is — regarding Lithuania’s resolution, I cannot commit at this time. There are matters I must resolve first, and I request as much of an extension on the vote as possible.”
There were surprised expressions around the council table, and numerous conversations between the heads of state followed. The secretary general gaveled the meeting to order, pounding the wooden strike plate repeatedly until silence was achieved. All eyes returned to the American president, awaiting an explanation for the requested delay. When the president offered none, Lithuanian President Grybauskaitė spoke.
“Time favors the Russians. The longer they have to dig in, the more difficult our task.”
The president replied, “Even if we approved the resolution today, the Russians would have weeks to prepare. It will take that long for adequate American forces to arrive. An extra week or two won’t make a significant difference. I have my reasons for requesting an extension, which I cannot share at this time.”
President Grybauskaitė started to object again and the American president cut her off.
“Do not press the matter. If you do, I will be forced to vote no.”
Grybauskaitė said nothing further, and silence gripped the conference room.
After a long moment, General Secretary Van der Bie took control. “The United States has requested a delay. I propose two weeks. Does anyone object?” When no one did, Van der Bie said, “All votes must be received within two weeks. Any country that objects to the resolution must do so in writing by the stipulated date.”
With a thud of his gavel, the meeting was adjourned.
Upon departing NATO headquarters, the president stepped into the back of Cadillac One, joined by Dunnavant and Colonel DuBose, for the return journey to Air Force One.
After the doors shut, Dunnavant said, “We have a plan to extract President Kalinin and Christine.”
Colonel DuBose provided the details, then Dunnavant said, “It will take a few hours to move forces into place, but our best estimate is that we’ll begin the mission just after nightfall. If you approve, I’ll inform Christine and President Kalinin.”
The president nodded his concurrence. “I approve.”
35
KRASNODAR KRAI, RUSSIA
Christine woke to find a hand clamped over her mouth. When the haze cleared from her mind, she realized it was Kalinin’s hand. He was lying beside and facing her, looking over her shoulder through the foliage. He placed an index finger on his lips, instructing her to remain quiet, then removed his hand from her mouth.
He pointed over her shoulder. Christine rolled over, peering through gaps in the vegetation covering their hiding spot. She spotted a Russian soldier moving quickly across the hill, following the river, and another soldier farther down. A third man, higher and much closer, came into view.
Kalinin retrieved his pistol and placed Christine’s in her hand, then whispered, “Do not shoot unless we are discovered. Follow my lead.”
He reversed positions so that his head was at Christine’s feet. He lay perfectly still, pointing his pistol at the nearest soldier. Christine verified her pistol safety was off, then took aim on the next closest man. All three men walked a parallel line twenty feet apart. As the closest soldier crossed in front of the recess, Christine heard another set of footsteps. There was a fourth soldier, closer than the others. Based on the spacing between the three soldiers below, Christine estimated the fourth man would pass a few feet above them.
The footsteps grew louder and Christine held her breath. There was no change to the man’s pace as he approached. Then the sound of his footsteps began to fade. As the Russian soldiers continued on, first one soldier disappeared from view, then a second, and finally a third. Christine rested her forehead on the ground. That’d been close. Kalinin had selected a secure hideout indeed.
As she let out a deep breath, her cell phone vibrated. She answered it quickly, bringing it to her ear.
It was Secretary of Defense Bill Dunnavant. A rescue had been arranged. Tonight, shortly after dark. Dunnavant provided the time and location — a hilltop clearing four hundred yards above and thirty degrees to the right of their current position.
36
CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS
Seated at his desk in the darkened office, Steve Kaufmann rested his head on his forearms, debating whether to call it a day. Not that it hadn’t been a long day already — it was 4 a.m. Thirty hours ago, he’d been pulled into the meeting at Clark Curtain Labs with the NCIS agents. He’d been at it for twenty-six of those thirty hours, grabbing four hours of sleep the previous night on one of the two cots beside his desk, with NCIS agent Kelly Lyman taking the other. But the end had been near tonight and he had pressed forward, checking the last software subroutines loaded onto the navigation circuit card attached to his computer. Everything was as he’d written it, not a single line of code changed.
Lyman was seated beside him, the glow from Kaufmann’s computer display illuminating her features in the darkness. She nudged his shoulder. “We should get some sleep. We can plan the next step in the morning.”
Kaufmann lifted his head, his computer screen slowly coming into focus. He’d answered the easy question, obtaining the answer he expected. It wasn’t the software. That meant it had to be one of the microprocessors on the circuit card. Unfortunately, they were black boxes to Clark Curtain Labs. Most of the chips were commercial microprocessors performing specific functions, which Kaufmann’s software tapped into. Thus far, every chip had performed properly. But without knowing the code inside each chip, there was no telling what algorithms lay dormant.
“I want to take a look at the data packets before calling it a day,” Kaufmann replied.
He launched a test algorithm and put the circuit card through its paces, simulating a navigation update after launch. It took only a few seconds as the data scrolled down his screen, and the card executed its task perfectly. After a cursory review of the data packets, the port status grabbed his attention. It was still open.