Deep Black

37

“They’ll take Kurakin out,” said Collins, helpfully keying a picture of the Russian president onto the data screens around the conference table in the White House situation room. “They’d have learned their lesson from the aborted Yeltsin coup, and they’d take him out right away.”

“Possibly,” conceded Rubens. “I would point out, however, that we have no intercepts on it, and no evidence.”

“There are no direct intercepts on the coup at all,” she volleyed back — a not-so-subtle suggestion that the NSA wasn’t doing its job.

Rubens refused to take the bait, continuing to argue that it would be difficult for the plotters to hit Kurakin. “His bodyguards are all exceedingly loyal — most of them either are old friends or are related by blood.”

“They’ll take him if they can,” said Blanders, the defense secretary. “They’ll use an assault force and, if all else fails, a sniper.”

“Can we protect him?” asked the president.

“Should we?” said the defense secretary, making one last play at keeping America on the sidelines. “Should we even try and interfere with the coup at all?”

Rubens sat back and listened as the others debated the matter. It was clear that the president had already decided to do just that, calculating that above all else the democratic system in Russia must be preserved. He said twice that he neither liked Kurakin nor trusted him — Rubens thought the former wasn’t true, even if the latter was. But President Marcke clearly believed that long-term, democracy in Russia was preferable to a return to dictatorship, especially if it was run by the military.

Rubens’ gaze met Collins’. She’d aged quite a bit in the last three years, but she was still attractive.

In two more years she wouldn’t be worth another look.

Be director of the agency by then.

“What do you think, William?” asked the president.

“Kurakin would be a high-priority target,” he said. “They would need a rather large assault team with heavy firepower to get past his bodyguards. As for a sniper…” He gestured with his hands. It was certainly possible. “The best way to protect him is to tip him off to the coup.”

“If he believes us,” said Marcke.

“That would be up to him,” said Rubens.

“Tipping him off is the best way to protect him,” said Collins. “But revealing that we know about the coup will tell the Russians a great deal about our capabilities.”

Rubens hadn’t expected the note of caution. Obviously she was positioning herself for any contingency — no matter what happened, she would be able to say she’d been right.

So like her.

“There are many trade-offs,” said Hadash. “I would recommend telling Kurakin that he’s a target once we’re sure, but leaving out details of our own attack. If we jam the rebels, ID the loyal units, and keep his communications lines open as Mr. Rubens has outlined — if all of that does not ensure his success, then he does not deserve to be president.”

“Assuming he’s alive for us to tell,” suggested Collins.

She was baiting him, Rubens finally realized — the agency had humint on a plot they hadn’t shared.

It could not be very reliable if there were no intercepts. Nonetheless, Rubens saw his best move — his only move: feign some vague understanding of it already.

“You haven’t briefed the president on the assassin theory,” he told Collins. “Perhaps you’d better.”

She hesitated ever so briefly. Rubens felt as if he’d won the point, if not the set.

“As Mr. Rubens hints, it is just a theory,” said Collins. “But a strong one.”

She detailed humint gathered within the past six hours that indicated a highly trained member of the Russian military had cased out part of Bolso in the Caucasus region last week, examining part of the city where President Kurakin was supposed to have been this week. When Kurakin’s schedule changed, the man disappeared.

“We call him the Wolf,” Collins added with an unbecoming smirk. “He was involved in the Georgian operation last year and has assassinated two leaders of the southern Islamic movement.”

Rubens did not know who “Wolf” was, and Collins didn’t pop up an image on the screen. Whether this meant she didn’t know either, or she was deliberately holding back information from him was anyone’s guess.

He fully suspected the latter.

“Why didn’t you share this information earlier?” asked Hadash.

“We just developed it,” said Collins. “And I’m still not convinced it’s significant.”

“William?” asked Hadash.

“There are no intercepts to back it up,” said Rubens. He resisted the temptation to add a subtle dig about the CIA not sharing, deciding it was best not to provoke her. “But I agree in principle. It’s very possible.”

“Where is he?” Hadash asked.

“We believe Moscow,” said Collins.

“Desk Three can attempt to find and intercept Wolf as part of the operation,” said Rubens. “If we can get data on him. Still, informing Kurakin is our surest way of protecting him.”

The secretary of state began to argue that they should go completely public with the information immediately, putting the whole world on notice. Rubens rolled his eyes.

It was obvious that the president didn’t take that seriously, but he did pay attention when Blanders suggested that the entire country’s electrical grid be disrupted. This could be accomplished largely through a software attack similar to the one planned for the communications networks, but there would have to be a physical attack on at least two parts of the grid. Desk Three did have assets to launch the attack; it controlled two groups of remote F-47C attack planes, which could be fitted with bombs. But Rubens believed shutting down the grid would ultimately hurt the loyal forces more than the plotters.

“You’d have considerable suffering in the general population,” Hadash said, making the argument for him. That allowed Rubens to speak up with what seemed like a reasoned counterproposal — it could not have been a better setup if it had been scripted.

“We do have the option for some selective, temporary blackouts, if necessary,” he told the president. “And we will have assets in the air in case it’s deemed necessary.”

“I envisioned more comprehensive forces,” said Blanders. Having made his last stand, he was now belatedly trying to carve out a piece of the pie for his people. “Delta and some Rangers could be there within twenty-four hours.”

“Too risky,” said Marcke. “A large force could easily complicate matters.”

Johnny Bib nudged Rubens’ leg under the table. He was looking at his alphanumeric pager and scribbling furiously on his yellow pad. Rubens tried to look discreetly at the notes but couldn’t make out what Bib was writing.

“I will choose the moment to inform Kurakin,” said the president. His voice was firm; the decision was irrevocable and it was time to move on. “Billy, I want you to make the assassin a priority. Can you do it, Billy?”

He’d need Karr and his team and some of the CIA people.

The CIA people were already in place; they’d have to take point.

Change the satellite priorities.

Revamp the signal intercept schedule.

Stretch everyone to their breaking point.

Impossible.

“Yes, of course we can do it,” Rubens said.

Bib slid over his pad. Rubens had to squint to decipher the words, and even then it was tough going. Bib had filled the page with chicken scratch that would make a doctor’s prescription look like forty-eight-point block letters.

“Bear Hug will execute at my command only,” said Marcke. “George, I want you at the command center to keep me updated. We’ll use the dedicated line.”

“Excuse me, Mr. President,” interrupted Rubens, rising. “The units we’ve been watching are on the move. I would estimate the action will begin in forty-eight hours, or less.”