Cauldron

FEBRUARY 21 — PARIS

Nicolas Desaix almost never watched television. This evening he was making an exception. He sat alone in his private office, transfixed by the images being broadcast from just off the Polish coast.

“No one knows what went wrong aboard this floating bomb, the SeaTrans North Star. A careless accident? Sabotage by environmental extremists? Who can say? But one thing is very clear according to the experts. This disaster could have been worse. Much worse.”

Desaix was delighted. The TV journalist’s commentary might almost have been written by his own staff.

“If North Star had been in port when she blew up, Gdansk itself would have been utterly destroyed. Tens of thousands would lie dead or dying in the rubble — far more than the hundred or so who died three days ago. And a hellish fire storm fed by natural gas and oil would be sweeping across northern Poland, blackening the skies above all Europe.

“One thing more is clear. Poland and the Czech and Slovak republics cannot be allowed to put us all at risk for their own selfish aims. The time for nationalism is over. Europe must stand united as a single, strong force for peace and prosperity. Or else surrender in shame to those who would exploit us for their own profit.

“This is Raoul Peree, reporting live from Gdansk…”

Desaix used a remote control to turn off the small television. After checking his watch, he punched a special code into his secure phone.

The head of the DGSE was still in his own office. He answered immediately. “Yes, Minister?”

“Fine work, Morin. A most satisfying operation. Congratulate Commander Regier and his men for me.”

“Of course, Minister.”

Desaix hung up, confident that Poland and Eastern Europe would soon submit and join the new European order. Their vaunted independence had fallen prey to a single, well-timed explosive charge.