“This is an insult. This is unacceptable.” The translator’s voice was monotoned and even, although they could very clearly hear the Russian president shouting at the top of his lungs in the background. “You commit an act of war upon the Russian people, and you expect us to just turn our backs and walk away?”
“I am prepared to offer you one hundred million dollars in reparations for the damage and expense my forces have caused,” Thorn went on. The mouths of every man in the Situation Room dropped open in surprise. “In addition, I offer five million dollars for every Russian killed by my forces during the operation, plus a public admission of guilt and a public apology, broadcast on international television.”
“Mr. President, what in the world …?” Busick sputtered. “You can’t do that!”
“I’m going to do it,” Thorn said. “I promise, upon my mother’s name, I’ll do it this afternoon, in Russian prime time.”
“A public apology? A public admission of guilt? No conditions?”
“No conditions,” Thorn said. “I have authorized my forces to stop all hostile actions — they are authorized only to defend themselves now. In any case, I will make my apology and explanation this morning, ten A.M. Washington time, and I will announce the reparation payment. If the Russians will tell me how many of their men were killed by my forces, I’ll announce that payment as well. My only wish right now is that no more lives are put in jeopardy.”
“You … you will admit all, Mr. President?” Sen’kov asked.
“Everything.”
“Such as what kind of aircraft were involved in this intelligence operation?”
“Certainly,” Thorn replied. “The rescue from near Moscow was accomplished by an MV-22 tilt-rotor special operations aircraft called a Pave Hammer. It carries a crew of six, several machine guns and air-to-air missiles on a retractable launcher, and defensive transmitters and expendables. The crew belong to a unit of the Intelligence Support Agency, a directorate of the Central Intelligence Agency set up to perform missions such as this.
“The cover aircraft were EB-1C stealth bombers called Vampires, which are highly modified B-1 bombers designed to penetrate heavily defended airspace and attack a wide variety of—”
“You dared to send nuclear-capable B-1 bombers over the Russian Federation? How dare you? This is tantamount to war!”
“They were simply the best aircraft available to protect our rescue aircraft,” Thorn said matter-of-factly. “You are not foolish enough really to believe our aircraft would be carrying nuclear weapons, are you?”
“I do not know what to believe!” Sen’kov’s translator said over the obviously agitated voice of the Russian president. “You announce this as casually as if you had sent me a birthday present! Are you mad? Are you insane?”
“Think what you like, Mr. President,” Thorn said. “Allow me to continue. The Vampires belong to the One-Eleventh Bomb Squadron, a unit of the Nevada Air National Guard, currently based at the Tonopah Test Range in Nevada. The Vampires were carrying a mixture of air-to-air, air-to-ground, and antiradar weapons — I don’t know the exact combination, but I’ll get that information for you if you wish. Their primary mission is the suppression of enemy air defenses and antiballistic missile defense. Their mission was to recover an agent who was spying on Russian military bases near Moscow. The personnel that were rescued by the MV-22 commandeered a Ukrainian helicopter at a base near Kiev, which is what they used to travel back into Russia to extract the downed air-crewmen.”
“Very interesting, Mr. President,” Sen’kov said. Robert Goff could easily envision Sen’kov’s advisors hurriedly writing all this information down. It was an intelligence bonanza, and it was being supplied direct from the horse’s mouth — the President of the United States! “And the purpose of this spying?”
“To determine the extent of Russian involvement in the recent attack in Kukes, Albania, where several hundred men, women, and children were ruthlessly murdered in an air raid,” Thorn replied hotly.
“Russian involvement?” Sen’kov retorted. “That’s ridiculous, Mr. Thorn. Investigators from NATO and the United Nations, including members of your own FBI, have no evidence of who might have caused that devastation. Rival drug lords, Macedonian mercenaries punishing Albanian gunrunners for cross-border raids, even rival Muslim sects have been blamed. But Russia had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“The United States has information that a Russian stealth bomber launched from Zhukovsky Flight Test Center committed those attacks. I’ll be sure to tell the world that, Mr. President.”
There was silence at the other end for a very, very long time. Finally, the translator said, “You will be spreading lies to cover up your culpability in this entire affair.”
“I will tell the truth, President Sen’kov — the entire truth,” Thorn said pointedly. “I’ll admit we were spying on you, and I’ll admit we flew aircraft into Russian airspace illegally. I will publicly offer the reparation payment, and I will also offer compensation to the families of any Russians that were killed during the operation, once you verify what that number is.” It was a clever tactic: in order to increase the award, the Russians would have to admit that many Russians had been killed — which wouldn’t look too good for Russia’s military. “I’ll then present the information recovered by the agent, which I am told not only proves that the attack originated in Russia, but was sanctioned by the Russian government.”
“Lies! All lies!”
“Mr. President, I am prepared to admit to everything,” Thorn shot back. “I will tell the world the honest truth. I’ll present photographs, details of the aircraft, where they came from, and exactly what they did. I will plead guilty to ordering an illegal overflight and undeclared hostile military action against the Russian Federation. I will then play the recordings the agent obtained during the surveillance. The world will believe me, President Sen’kov. I guarantee it.”
It was an unbelievable, stunning tactic. The others in the Situation Room were shocked into silence, afraid to move or even breathe. Could this work …?
“Mr. Thorn,” the translator said in his usual toneless voice, after another lengthy pause, “we feel a public statement is unnecessarily belligerent and inflammatory to the Russian people, and we demand you refrain from such a propagandist spectacle. We accept your offer of reparation payment of one hundred million dollars. The Russian government expects it to be paid forthwith. Your admission of guilt is sufficient and a matter of record.
“President Sen’kov has ordered all defensive forces to cease their attacks but to closely monitor all foreign aircraft for any sign of hostilities, and they have been ordered to respond immediately with overwhelming force should any foreign aircraft initiate hostile actions,” the translator went on. “The Russian government considers this matter closed, with a final admonition: if the United States spreads any information about this incident or any related incidents whatsoever, Russia will use any and all measures to force the United States to deal with the consequences.”
And the connection was terminated.
The members of the National Security Council looked at each other in stunned silence. Finally, Secretary of Defense Goff said under his breath, “Did … did what I think just happened really happen? Did the president of Russia just let an armed American stealth warplane fly through his country?”
“Sure — for one hundred million dollars,” Vice President Busick retorted. “Pretty sweet deal for him.” He turned to the President, who was sitting quietly, even serenely, at the conference table. “The money wasn’t necessary, Mr. President. The Vampire was almost out of Russia anyway. The first Vampire crew was safe—”