Silver Tower

CHAPTER 13

"Are you crazy, Govorov?" First Deputy Minister of Defense Khromeyev asked in a low, biting tone. Both Govorov and Deputy Minister of Defense Rhomerdunov, commander in chief of the Soviet Aerospace Forces, stood at attention in Khromeyev's spacious office just outside Minister of Defense Czilikov's conference chamber. Govorov had caged his eyes forward, unblinking, but Rhomerdunov's eyes followed Khromeyev's nervous pacing. The two senior officers had once spent eighteen straight days together in a muddy foxhole in Mukacevo near Budapest during the last weeks of the Great Patriotic War forty-eight years earlier, and there was little Khromeyev could say or do that could really frighten Rhomerdunov. The chief of the general staff finally waved both Rhomerdunov and Govorov to chairs.

"Sergei," Rhomerdunov urged, "listen to what General Govorov has to say—"

"We've heard it before, Alexi," Khromeyev said. "Your cosmonaut has already made quite a name for himself in the Kremlin, thanks to his rather undisciplined speech before the Kollegiya. Now he wants to speak with the minister of defense again about postponing Operation Feather." Khromeyev stared at both Rhomerdunov and Govorov for long, tense moments. "What the hell is going on, Govorov? Is this some sort of challenge to your superior? A move for attention? Minister of Defense Czilikov spoke with Marshal Lichizev. The GRU knows of no such super-radar on board the American space station Armstrong. They acknowledge that the sensor capabilities of the station are indeed advanced, but not advanced enough to track hundreds of land, air and sea vessels for millions of cubic kilometers-let alone direct the defenses of the American rapid deployment force in the region."

Khromeyev abruptly moderated his voice. "The minister of defense appreciates your concern and attention to detail, General Govorov. But he has conducted his own surveys of members of the Kollegiya and of the scientific community and decided that the space station Armstrong is not a threat to the success or failure of Feather. Your comments have been duly noted but—"

Govorov could no longer take it. "Excuse me, sir, but it isn't necessary to address me like an overzealous child. I'm willing to stake my professional career on what I say. If Feather is to succeed, if this country is ever to be secure, the space station Armstrong has got to be destroyed or at least crippled."

"That's enough… Rhomerdunov," Khromeyev said, now ignoring Govorov, "I can't allow this insubordinate officer of yours to see the minister of defense. He'll have all our heads, and he'll be right. I suggest, Alexi, that you explain the chain of command to General Lieutenant Govorov. Have him review the oath he took, especially the part about unquestioningly carrying out the requirements of all military regulations and orders of commanders and superiors. He seems to have a deficient memory in that area. Explain to him that if we were not approaching a period of great need he would be relieved of his position. Be sure that he understands that the Kollegiya is not here for his personal aggrandizement. Dismissed, damn it."

Rhomerdunov could barely wait until he was back into his staff car. "Govorov, your career may have ended five minutes ago. Aerospace Forces won't be heavily involved with Feather — the minute things calm down you'll be relieved of duty and reassigned—"

"No—"

"Very brave of you, Alesander. Brave to the last. Your big mouth has destroyed you, just as I warned you it would."

"And I tell you that this has not ended. I remember my oath of allegiance very well. I swore to protect my country and my people to the last drop of blood in my body — I'm trying to do that."

As the dark Mercedes sedan swung onto the heavily crowded Volokolamskoje Highway northwest toward Moskovskij International Airport, Govorov turned intently to his superior officer. "I need authorization, sir," he said in a low voice. "One launch. In twenty days. Aboard the Elektron…"

Rhomerdunov's face drained. "Elektron…? Govorov, you are a fool." He shook his head, speaking almost to himself, as if the young officer was no longer in the car. "I was wrong to try to support your ideas… You're letting your obsession cloud your common sense "

"You know damn well that's not true, sir. What I'm saying is a fact… The power of Armstrong Station, the danger our forces will face because of it — all true. Feather will be crushed or at least helplessly stalled in the mountains or the Arabian Sea. A stalemate for Feather is just as bad as a defeat. It is a defeat… please, hear me out… The Space Defense Command has the ability to stop Armstrong Station from becoming the pivotal unit in the American defense. Three Elektron spaceplanes armed with Scimitar hypervelocity projectile missiles—"

"Scimitar? What the hell are those? I've never heard of them."

"Code-named Bavinash. Low-cost, so-called throwaway missiles developed in secret by my people. They are little more than long bottles of gas with a molybdenum-uranium armor-piercing nose and a rocket engine. An Elektron can carry ten of them on a rotary launcher in the cargo hold. They're laser-guided from Elektron and they fly at nearly a kilometer a second to their target. They—"

"You have a weapon designed for the Elektron spaceplane? But the Elektron is a cargo ship, a damn space taxi. Whatever possessed you to develop an offensive weapon for it? In secret, no less…"

Govorov allowed a smile. "It was an American idea, actually. When I first flew the Elektron five years ago the Americans were convinced it was a Soviet space fighter plane. Ordinarily I wouldn't have paid any attention to such blatant anti-Soviet propaganda ploys — at the time the Americans were trying to discredit our shuttle program to mask their own shuttle failures. But the idea intrigued me, and I did some research to discover the exact plans for the so-called Soviet space fighter-plane. I was shocked to learn there were no such plans. So when I was chosen to head the Space Defense Command I began a secret program to develop a twenty-first-century space force that would be superior…"

Rhomerdunov was speechless, not able to take in what he was hearing. But as the Mercedes swung onto the specially constructed off-ramp from the Volokolamskoje Highway, he turned to Govorov, shaking his head. "These so-called Bavinash missiles… are they… ready for use?"

"Within twenty days, sir." Govorov felt his face flush with excitement, realizing that Rhomerdunov was at least listening to him. "I have already given orders… Two Elektron spaceplanes will be readied at Tyuratam for launch in three weeks. Each will be fitted with ten Scimitar missiles — more than sufficient to destroy the American space station. As long as it exists our own survival is only a matter of—"

"You have already given the orders?"

Govorov checked himself. Now, with Rhomerdunov interested in the project, this was the time for fence mending. He didn't want his superior thinking him a loose cannon. "I have briefed my staff on the project, yes. But, of course, it waits for your approval. I have not ordered any attacks on Armstrong, per your orders and the orders of the Kollegiya. But I felt that, under my limited authority, at least the groundwork should be laid for preparation of the Elektrons, should my observations on the capabilities of Armstrong's space-based radar be true…"

The Mercedes slowed and stopped at a guard house on the outskirts of Moscow Airport. Papers were exchanged and a quick search of the car was conducted by an army sergeant accompanied by a Rottweiller guard dog. Rhomerdimov, distracted by what he'd heard, did not protest when the massive black-and-tan animal was allowed to sniff the interior of the car for explosives. A few moments later the car was speeding toward the separate VIP terminal where Rhomerdunov's jet was waiting.

Inside the terminal's waiting room Rhomerdunov finally spoke to Govorov: "I've been ordered to Tashkent, to supervise the southern TVD air defenses in case retaliatory strikes into the Soviet Union occur during Feather. Otherwise I would go with you back to Tyuratam to inspect this… this so-called secret space force you've developed. Bear this in mind, General Govorov. Normally I would consider all you have said and done as the ultimate in insubordination and abuse of power. The secret development of a weapon, regardless of its necessity, its use, or the intentions of its developer, is a treasonable offense. If the information about this Scimitar missile or the arming of Elektron spaceplanes leaks out and is discovered by the Politburo or the general staff, you may find yourself in Lubylanka Prison for a very long stay."

Govorov kept quiet, and it was then that Rhomerdunov decided to trust the young officer. There were really only two choices: ignore Govorov and quietly remove him as a threat to Rhomerdunov's authority, or believe in him and his convictions and back him. If Govorov had shown any hesitation or uncertainty, Rhomerdunov would have let the matter die then and there. But with his steely blue eyes convincingly steady, Govorov looked, spoke and acted like a man firmly committed to his beliefs. And just because those beliefs were hugely upsetting didn't make them wrong. It would have been easier to believe Govorov was carried away by his idée fixe. But if he was crazy, he was the most intelligent and well-organized psychopath in history… "We must take steps, Govorov, to be sure that the development of this Scimitar missile, the arming of Elektron spaceplanes and the formation of a space-borne attack unit have been thoroughly documented. These programs must become authorized as revived projects of the Aerospace Forces and the Space Defense Command, not as the clandestine and illegal activities of a renegade."

Govorov's attention was on the word we, and he had to struggle to resist the urge to break out into an unmilitary cheer. Deputy First Minister of Defense Rhomerdunov had just identified himself with the plans. There was still hope…

"We'll discuss this further, Alesander."

Govorov nodded, noticing that boarding preparations were being completed. An air force Starshiy Serzhant came up now to Rhomerdunov and reported that his plane was ready for boarding. Govorov picked up Rhomerdunov's briefcase and carried it to the boarding ramp outside an Antonov An-72 military transport jet. "Sir." Govorov handed the briefcase to a crewmember but looked directly at Rhomerdunov. "About my ongoing preparations…?"

"They are to continue. Quietly. I will contact you when it's possible. Be prepared to fully brief myself and the Kollegiya on the project." He paused as a few officers stepped behind him: "And be prepared to dismantle it. Both with equal speed."

Govorov saluted, and Rhomerdunov stepped onto the escalator and disappeared from sight.