Countdown

CHAPTER 16

Admiral Thomas Magruder took his seat in the White House Situation Room.

As a special Presidential Advisor on military matters, he'd been here plenty of times before. Ordered constructed by President Kennedy right after the Bay of Pigs, the carpeted, concrete-walled room in the White House basement was not as large, as glamorous, or as high-tech as popular fiction usually described it. There were hidden television screens behind wood-paneled cupboards, yes, and the room next door was filled with telex machines, a crypto unit, facsimile machines, and secure telephones.

For most high-level briefings, though, the President used a second Situation Room located in Room 208 of the Executive Office Building, the same room, in fact, from which Secretary of State Cordell Hull had ejected the Japanese envoys on December 7, 1941. Variously called the Crisis Management Center and the Situation Room Support Facility, it was large enough for all of the President's principal officers and their aides.

As a matter of course, however, the President's senior aides and cabinet officers used the original White House basement Sit Room to discuss specific strategies before going upstairs to brief the President. The current President, while not as anti-military as some of his more liberal White House cabinet officers, was less than fully knowledgeable about military affairs.

Rather than sitting in on military and intelligence briefings, the President preferred to have his National Security Advisor, Herbert T. Waring, chair the meeting instead, then brief him afterward.

Magruder leaned back in his chair, glumly studying the American and Presidential flags flanking a curtained screen at the far end of the room.

There'd been a lot of changes in the U.S. military during the past few years, and in his opinion, none of them were good.

Since 1991, the military had been called upon to fill a rapidly expanding role in policing a world that reverberated with the ongoing death throes of the old Communist empire. There'd been the Gulf War with a state originally armed and trained by the old U.S.S.R., a war possible only because the Soviets under Gorbachev had been willing to turn a blind eye to what was happening in Iraq in exchange for a free hand in suppressing the popular revolutions in the Baltics. Then had come the coup, and the breakup of the Soviet Union despite the Black Berets' attacks against Baltic nationalism. By the end of the year, the Communist flag had been lowered above the Kremlin for the last time… or at least, so everyone had thought. The Cold War was over, and the calls to drastically pare back an unnecessary American military had begun.

Somehow it hadn't worked out that way, though. There'd been Somalia and Bosnia and continued trouble in Iraq. A Marine foray into North Korea to rescue the crew of a Navy intelligence ship taken hostage. A coup in Thailand backed by renegade Chinese Communists. A war between Pakistan and India that might have gone nuclear without intervention by an American carrier task force.

And finally, the year before, there'd been the neo-Soviet coup and the invasion of Scandinavia.

Both the press and the U.S. government were carefully avoiding calling that bloody fracas World War III. The neo-Soviets, needing a war to secure their own power base at home, had tried to snap up Scandinavia in a quick military adventure while a fragmenting NATO argued about what to do. The heroic stand by the U.S.S. Jefferson and her CBG had stopped the Russians in their tracks off Norway, but still the Russian giant was threatening to drag the rest of the world into final Armageddon.

Now it was a civil war being fought on a ragged line all the way from Minsk to Vladivostok, one that already had engulfed Belarus, Ukraine, and Kazakhstan and might well soon involve China, North Korea, and most of Europe as well… and if that wasn't a world war, Admiral Magruder didn't know what was.

Yet during these past few years, the budget cuts to the U.S. military had kept coming, Worse, though, far worse, had been the wholesale mismanagement of the armed forces by blatantly anti-military congressmen in positions such as head of the Armed Forces Appropriations Committee, and the wildly leftist swing by the Clinton Administration beginning in 1993. Those had done unspeakable harm to America's defense establishment. Too scandals had rocked the services… especially the Navy, which had suffered through Tail-hook, the murder of a gay sailor in Japan and the subsequent cover-up, the videotape scandal aboard the Gompers, and others. Finally, the twin, dynamite-charged issues of gays in the military and women in combat and aboard ship had savaged the morale of everyone from ordinary enlisted personnel, male and female alike, all the way up to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Admiral Magruder himself had reached the point where he was seriously considering taking an early retirement, even if it meant losing some of his benefits.

Hell, the grind just wasn't worth it anymore. He hadn't seen such liberal, anti-military hysteria since Vietnam… and this was from the people in the government! He still remembered the day he'd held a door open for a female White House staffer and had her jump down his throat with a viciousness that must have been well-practiced and rehearsed. "I don't need help from anyone," she'd sniffed. "Especially from a trained, uniformed killer!"

"I'm no trained killer, ma'am," he'd said genially. "I lead trained killers." But the episode had soured him, convinced him that the gulf between those who defended America and those who governed her had widened to the point that understanding ― or compromise ― was impossible.

He thought again of his nephew, Matthew Magruder, now a captain and CAG aboard the Jefferson off the Kola Peninsula. "Damn, Matt," he murmured to himself. "What the hell are we getting you into out there?" He was plagued by the fear that the present administration would respond to neo-Soviet provocations with too little too late, then pull back and cut its political losses when the first offering, in this case CBG-14, was snapped up.

Sometimes he had nightmares. Last night he'd dreamed he was talking to Matt, trying to explain why the Jefferson was being left in Murmansk while the rest of the fleet came home. "Sorry, Matt," he remembered himself saying in the dream. "They've cut the Navy's budget for aircraft carriers. We just can't afford to run the damn things anymore, so we're trading you to the Russians for two million dollars and a crate of White Sea caviar. Oh, and Pamela says to dress warm."

The other attendees at today's meeting were taking their places about the large wooden table. Vincent Duvall, the CIA Director, was there, as were Secretary of Defense George Vane and the white-maned Admiral Brandon Scott, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

Magruder knew what Scott thought of using the armed forces as a social test platform. Rumor had it he'd threatened to resign several times, and each time been refused. Robert Heideman, the Secretary of State, was also present, a stuffy, lifelong politician who had little love for the military. All four men were attended by several aides.

There was a stir at the back of the room, and Herbert Waring and White House Chief of Staff Gordon West walked in. "Sit, sit," Waring said as the others started to rise. "Sorry to drag you all in on a Saturday, but I'm sure you recognize the importance of what's breaking now in Russia." He glanced at his Rolex.

"This meeting today has got to be a quickie, by the way. Gordon and I are due upstairs in The Man's office in thirty minutes to brief him on this new Russia thing. So let's get the ball rolling. Bob? What kind of input do you have for us?"

The Secretary of State shifted in his chair. "Frankly, Herb, there's been little new hard data since our meeting yesterday. Moscow is still insisting that the attack on our carrier groups was the work of dissident forces that had seized certain airfields in the western half of the Kola Peninsula, and has promised to punish those responsible. That's on the official diplomatic front. Unofficially, well, the picture's a lot murkier."

"Leonov flatly insists that the Reds are behind the attack," the CIA director said. "He thinks they're trying to discredit him, to block U.S.

recognition of his side as the legitimate government of Russia."

"I'm not sure we can trust Leonov," Heideman pointed out. "Actually, the new bunch in the Kremlin, Krasilnikov and his people, seem to be more stable, more interested in the long-term outlook. They're devoted to reorganizing Russia's economy, revitalizing their industry, getting food supplies moving to the cities again-"

"Making the trains run on time," Duvall put in.

Heideman looked surprised. "Why, yes. Exactly. They're working hard to get all public services working again. Once the situation stabilizes in Russia, we should have no trouble doing business with them."

"Admiral Magruder?" Waring said, staring at him from across the table with his hands carefully folded. "You look impatient. Do you have something to add?"

"With all due respect to the Secretary of State, sir, now is not the time to be discussing doing business with the Russians. The situation has not changed since our meeting here yesterday, but we cannot allow things to drift any further without specific attention." He glanced from face to face at those watching him from around the table. "Gentlemen, ladies, the Russians attacked us yesterday, deliberately and without provocation. We must respond."

Gordon West frowned. "Are you saying we should attack them, Admiral?

Maybe start a war?"

"I submit, sir, that the war has already started. This is an outgrowth of the Scandinavian invasion last year. If you like, it is a direct outgrowth of the coup in '91. These things don't happen in a vacuum. They are part and parcel of an overall body of events, decisions, and acts carried out by Russia's current batch of leaders. They are trying to secure power for themselves. Historically, the best way to do that is to get into a war with someone else. It takes the people's minds off empty bellies, boosts industrial productivity, and creates employment. It seems to me that it was inevitable that the Russians would attack us."

"Nonsense," Heideman said. "They already have a war… their own civil war."

"Not the same thing, Mr. Secretary. Not the same thing at all. A war with foreign enemies helps them get their people to pull together, while civil war divides them. Case in point: Revolutionary France in the 1780s and '90s.

They were weak and divided, but they went on to declare war against most of Europe. United their own country, and eventually got an emperor, Napoleon.

Or there's revolutionary Iran in the late 1970s-"

"We're not here to discuss history, Admiral," Waring said.

"We're discussing the Russian problem."

"Perhaps Admiral Magruder is suggesting that we can better understand our own times if we understand the lessons of history," the Chief of Staff said.

"Certainly, I would have to agree with the premise that we cannot count on the, um, good will, the respect and good intentions, of Krasilnikov and his gang of thugs."

"So, Admiral," George Vane said. He gave an uncomfortable glance in Heidman's direction. "Are you suggesting that we attack them? An escalation at this point…"

Magruder sighed. They'd been over this set of arguments countless times since the crisis had broken late Thursday night ― Friday morning in the Kola Peninsula. "My personal recommendation, Mr. Secretary, would be to sink that Typhoon that slipped out of Polyamyy during the battle. Admiral Tarrant seems to believe the two events are connected, that the air strike could have been providing cover for that Russian PLARB. If so, hitting the sub would be a valid, measured response to their attack against our carriers."

"But they didn't hit our carriers, Admiral," Heideman said, sounding exasperated. "We must not overreact!"

"It was by God's grace alone they didn't blow both the Eisenhower and the Jefferson clean out of the water, sir. They did sink one ship and damage several others. Hundreds of lives have been lost, most of them on the Blakely. Several of our aircraft have been shot down, and if they missed the carriers, it was thanks to our people's vigilance, not for lack of the Russians trying!"

"But to just go out and sink their submarine…" Vane began.

"Okay, sir," Magruder said, spreading his hands. He was having more and more trouble containing his impatience. "If you don't like that, another response would be an alpha strike, a bombing raid against the airfields from which those air attacks were launched. We know which ones were involved. If you want to pretend to believe that mutineers launched that attack, fine. Hit the bases that launched the planes and missiles. Knock out the radar and SAM sites. Send them a message that we're not going to stand for this kind of provocation."

"And be guilty of greater provocation ourselves!" West pointed out.

Magruder shrugged pointedly. "I must also point out that we have Resolution 982 to consider. Our response to the Russian attack could incorporate the UN mandate as our moral imperative for involving ourselves in the Kola."

Resolution 982 had been passed by the UN Security Council a month earlier, just after the violent coup that had ousted Leonov. It condemned any use of nuclear weapons in Russia's civil war and called for UN control of all of Russia's nuclear weapons, including her ICBM submarines. Needless to say, all parties in Russia had flatly rejected the idea, and so far, the resolution had served only to further isolate the bloodily fragmented nation.

Still, Resolution 982 provided the legal framework for any future intervention in Russia's affairs.

"Until we have more, um, decisive backing from the UN," Waring pointed out, "Nine eighty-two is little more than pretty words. We must consider the Russian response to our presence off their coast."

"Indeed," West said. "It is possible that Moscow is simply responding to our provocation. We, after all, are the ones who sent two carrier battle groups into their waters. We should remain sensitive to their perceptions of the situation."

Magruder sighed and settled back in his seat. Clearly, this was going to be a long and bloodthirsty session.