Defcon One (1989) Read online

  We have a trusted and loyal Kremlin operative, in direct contact with Zhilinkhov, corroborate our worst-case situation.

  Wilkinson thought for a second. The agent could have had no idea we had reached the same conclusion.

  Wilkinson leaned forward, then spoke quietly. The Soviets, sir, are going to blow us off the face of the earth. Zhilinkhov doesn't need the endorsement of anyone to order the strike.

  You know that.

  Wilkinson leaned back, then stared at the president. The chief of staff had to hold his hands together to keep them from shaking.

  Wilkinson spoke again. Sir, the Soviets ... Zhilinkhov ... is doing

  exactly what our Kremlin agent

  Dimitri, General Hollingsworth quietly provided.

  What Dimitri said. Precisely. This isn't coincidence, sir.

  Our operative broke the absolute rule of contact to get this information to us. He went through hell to escape after the KGB disaster, then saw his mentor killed. Yet, he remained rational and got the message to us.

  The chief of staff waited a few seconds.

  Mister President, Wilkinson drew in a breath, I believe him. We've been exposed to Zhilinkhov. I don't have a doubt in my mind. Wilkinson paused, composing his thoughts. Sir, the picture is absolutely clear. Wait a minute. the president said. Zhilinkhov isn't going to live forever.

  True, Wilkinson replied. There are seven people, at the top, involved in this. We don't have any way of knowing what the other six would do with Zhilinkhov out of the picture.

  We aren't in a position to wait and see, sir. Zhilinkhov has only to give the order and it will be carried out.

  Wilkinson looked at Admiral Chambers, then back to the commander-in-chief. Mister President, you have the same prerogative.

  No one spoke a word.

  Sir, we don't have much time, Wilkinson said gently.

  Zhilinkhov is a very mercurial person. We have no idea what he'll do next, or when. We only know he is going to pull the trigger.

  Wilkinson waited a moment, then continued, I understand how you feel.

  Until I analyzed this situation, bombing the Soviets first would have been the last thing on my mind. Wilkinson looked at Blaylocke.

  Unthinkable. Reprehensible.

  Americans, Grant, the president said, we're Americans, for the love of God.

  Sir, we can sit here extolling the virtues of the American way of life and watch two hundred million Americans be annihilated,Wilkinson paused, or we can render the Soviet Communist party helpless, with minimal damage to the United States.

  The president didn't reply.

  Sure, we'll take some damage, Wilkinson said, becoming more forceful, but it won't be a Pyrrhic victory.

  Wilkinson waited a few seconds, anticipating questions. No one said a word as startled minds tried to comprehend the magnitude of the suggestion before them. Bomb the Soviet Union.

  Our other option, Wilkinson continued, is to do nothing, remain in DEFCON-One, and wait for the eventual onslaught.

  We'll lose tens of millions of lives, at the least, and the America we enjoy will be gone forever.

  The president had a blank look on his face as he leaned back in his seat.

  Mister President, Wilkinson said in a pleading manner, you do have an obligation to the American people. An obligation, sir, to protect them.

  The president looked at Blaylocke. I want to hear from Susan, Cliff, and Herb.

  I'm in shock, the vice president began, looking around the table.

  But I can see the logic in what Grant is telling us, regardless of how horrible it is.

  Blaylocke looked at the president before speaking again.

  If I'm honest, gentlemen, I must say I've thought about this concept more than once, even today, privately. It was just a shock to hear someone voice the possibility, the unthinkable, as the president said.

  The president interrupted. We just can't arbitrarily push the button and destroy the Soviet Union! The president looked perplexed. We have to apprise members of Congress and ' Sir, Wilkinson interjected,' 'if we get Congress embroiled in this, you will be facing impeachment proceedings.' Wilkinson almost shouted. We'll be waist-deep in rubble before Congress even gets the hearings underway.

  Mister President, Zhilinkhov has the power to destroy us, and he is going to use it.

  Cliff, the president said, ignoring Wilkinson, what is your position in this matter?

  Howard, very controlled, addressed the president. Sir, I can only reiterate what Grant said. We're going to take battle damage regardless of what we elect to do. The question is, in my opinion, how much damage do we intend to take? Are we willing to risk losing everything? Are we willing to see America, as we know it, gone forever? Our hard-won freedom, sir, tossed away, along with millions of lives? I don't think so.

  The president glanced at Wilkinson, saw him move his head slowly back and forth.

  The choice has been made for us, Howard said, sadness in his voice. I urge you to initiate a preemptive strike on the Soviet Union.' Howard waited for a response from the president.

  When he didn't receive any acknowledgement, he continued.

  Now, Mister President, while we have a choice in the outcome.

  The future of this country, this nation and its people, rests on your decision, sir.

  The president, stunned, stared at the defense secretary with unfocused eyes.

  THE KREMLIN

  A quiet knock on the heavy doors preceded the entry of the somewhat stout Russian physician, followed by a nurse and a military aide.

  The doctor examined the general secretary, noting that he was conscious but not attempting to speak. He seemed to be in very stable condition and resting well.

  Comrade General Secretary, the doctor said, you are making excellent progress.' The cardiologist smiled in a perfunctory manner. Can you move your fingers for me?

  Zhilinkhov responded weakly, appearing irritated, or in pain.

  The doctor knew he had to be careful not to agitate the party boss.

  Two more hours would see him off duty, relaxing with a vodka, and letting that slob, Doctor Pyadyshev, take the hot seat. No one wanted to be on duty if something happened to Zhilinkhov.

  Do you have any pain? the cardiologist asked, checking Zhilinkhov's vital signs.

  Zhilinkhov moved his head very slowly, indicating no. He still had not attempted to speak.

  The military aide remained quiet, but nervous, as the doctor patted Zhilinkhov's shoulder and gathered his instruments. He gave the nurse instructions, then turned back to Zhilinkhov.

  I will check on you in another hour, comrade, the doctor said unctuously. Rest well, and try to sleep, if possible.

  The doctor walked across the room, opened the huge door, and, relieved, quietly exited the private quarters of the party general secretary.

  As soon as the massive door shut, the military aide leaned over Zhilinkhov. Comrade General Secretary, I am pleased to inform you that Colonel General Vranesevic reports the spies have been killed.

  Zhilinkhov rolled his eyes back toward the top of his head and attempted to speak. Con ... firm...

  Sir, the aide said, delighted to bring the general secretary good news, all three American helicopters were downed, with no survivors.

  This has been confirmed. General Secretary.

  The aide stepped back a pace, reflecting a high degree of military discipline.

  Zhilinkhov, a faint smile spreading across his sallow, craggy face, nodded. He was obviously pleased by the good news.

  His secret was safe, and the Americans would be destroyed.

  Colonel General Vranesevic had used the holocaust at the communications towers to conceal the spies' escape. The carnage was unrecognizable as either American or Soviet, thus sparing his life and career.

  Zhilinkhov whispered to the aide, deeply slurring his words.

  He wanted his coconspirators in his presence immediately.

  Yes, Comrade General S
ecretary, the aide replied, standing erect at attention. Immediately.

  Chapter Nineteen.

  THE WHITE HOUSE

  The president had taken off his suit coat, opened his collar, and donned a white cardigan sweater. He looked haggard and his stomach was causing him great discomfort.

  Herb, what is your opinion, your honest opinion, about this preemptive attack? the president asked, gently rubbing his temples, elbows resting on the shining table.

  I can't comprehend it, sir.' Kohlhammer exhaled, his body seeming to deflate. I don't agree with the proposal. It's sheer madness. We would be the terrorist of the planet ... if we survived the retaliation.

  ' Susan.' The president turned slightly to face his vice president.

  I want it straight:

  I'll tell you straight, Blaylocke answered with a serious look. I always have, sir.

  I know, Susan, the president replied. Sorry. I'm tired, and confused.

  Blaylocke turned toward the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

  Admiral Chambers, before I go on record about this preemptive operation, I want to understand the details, the plan of action, if you will.

  Every eye turned to the highest ranking officer in the military services.

  We the Joint Chiefs have reviewed this scenario from a tactical standpoint and conclude, unanimously, that a preemptive nuclear strike against the Soviet Union is feasible. We will prevail, no question about it, Chambers said in a controlled voice.

  I am not in a position to address the political or economic

  ramifications.

  The president spoke to Chambers. What about Milt Ridenow? Is he in concurrence with this ... action?

  Yes, sir. Unequivocally, Chambers replied, feeling the president was beginning to respond to the inevitable. You can confirm that, sir.

  He is immediately available in the Looking Glass.

  I will. Admiral, if this continues in the developmental stage.

  The president, jaw set, looked into Chambers's eyes.

  The face of the chairman reflected a grim determination.

  Continue your brief, Admiral, the president said, rubbing his temples.

  We can inform our theater commanders, via secure net, to prepare for an imminent nuclear strike. This will allow us to place our missiles closest to the Soviet Union on the primary targets in the least amount of time.

  What about the Warsaw Pact nations? Blaylocke asked, jotting notes on her legal pad.

  We will confine their involvement, as much as possible, to conventional weapons. The major strikes nuclear strikes-will be confined to the military installations, manufacturing plants, cosmodromes, and other strategic locations.

  Cosmodromes? Blaylocke asked, a quizzical look on her face.

  Yes, ma'am, Chambers replied politely. We have to take away any residual capability to launch space vehicles of any kind, including their two space shuttles, Buran and Ptichka. We will eliminate the Baikonur Cosmodrome at Tyuratan, along with various other launch sites, including the cosmodrome at Plesetsk.

  What about the Soviet submarines? the president asked.

  We will be able to eliminate perhaps forty to fifty percent of their submarines before they can respond, sir. Our hunter-killer submarines and ASW aircraft are dogging them now.

  I'm afraid. Admiral, the president interrupted, that I don't share your confidence in our ability to track Soviet submarines.

  Excuse me, sir? Chambers responded in a surprised voice.

  The president had never been so caustic in a meeting with the Joint Chiefs.

  If you will recall. Admiral, the incident in late 1986, the president leaned forward across the table, when one of our attack submarines the USS Augusta while cruising underwater off Gibraltar, collided with a goddamn Russian submarine.

  The president sat back in his chair and waited a couple of seconds.

  They never even heard it!

  Chambers cleared his throat. Only a privileged few knew about the embarrassing incident. We can't destroy all the Russian submarines, sir, but we anticipate our antimissile systems will be able to eliminate most warheads that do get airborne.

  That still leaves warheads that are going to impact the continental United States. The president paused, reflectively.

  Not to mention Alaska and Hawaii.

  Yes, sir, Chambers said, feeling a dampness under his uniform blouse.

  That is true, no question about it.

  And the Soviet bombers? the president asked, staring intently at the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. The ones we don't get in our strike?

  We'll be able to down the majority, but... Chambers slowed, looking tired, we'll receive some impact damage. Primarily from cruise missiles.

  Any projections as to the Soviet priorities. Admiral? Blaylocke asked, noticing Grant Wilkinson had not said a word during this question-and-answer session.

  Only speculation, Chambers answered in a cordial manner, ever the gentleman. Military primarily, then secondary targets. We simply can't project that information with any degree of accuracy.

  What amount of damage can we expect to sustain? Blay locke paused, writing continuously on her legal pad. Realistically?

  We'll receive considerable damage. Probably greater than our projections, to tell you the truth, Chambers answered, holding up his hand to indicate he wasn't finished. However, I can tell you it will be a fraction of the damage we will receive if the Soviets strike first.

  Chambers stopped for a moment, then added a serious warning.

  You must consider the difference. Think about it. We have been given a warning. An opportunity to control our destiny.

  The room remained quiet while everyone digested what Chambers had said.

  The Joint Chiefs, Chambers continued, are convinced, as are the chief of staff and the secretary of defense, that a Soviet preemptive strike is imminent and inevitable. Mister President.

  The president looked at his vice president. Okay, give me your decision, Susan.

  Sir, I have been trained for years to gather all the information, analyze the material, then make a clinical, unbiased, objective decision. The vice president looked around the room.

  Every eye met hers.

  Blaylocke continued, confident, clear of voice. As I see it we are faced with doing nothing with every warning light flashing, and accepting the consequences, whatever they may be.

  Blaylocke looked at her yellow pad. Or we can follow the course

  presented by Admiral Chambers and

  On the word of a Soviet emigrant?

  A neophyte in the CIA? the president asked, a surprised look in his weary, bloodshot eyes.

  Please, let me have the floor, Blaylocke asked in an even, pleasant voice.

  I'm sorry, Susan. Please continue, the president replied, clearly distraught over the possibility of nuclear warfare.

  Or, Blaylocke continued, we can follow the suggestion of the military experts, with the support of Grant and Cliff, and preempt the Soviets.

  Blaylocke removed her glasses before speaking again. We control the situation, not the Soviets.

  Susan Blaylocke looked at Chambers, then Wilkinson, before concluding her remarks. That is about it, my considered judgement, Mister President, Blaylocke said. I'm satisfied mat we don't have a choice.

  The bell has sounded, and we're waiting to see who throws the first punch. Chambers replied, A very astute analogy, ma'am. This is, in fact, a first-punch fight. There won't be another chance for the runner-up.

  The room remained hushed while the president of the United States of America digested the proposed action. It was unprecedented.

  Grant Wilkinson broke the silence. Sir, TASS, Izvestia, Moskovskii Komsomolyets, along with various other Soviet media, are reporting the death of the American spies. We know that Zhilinkhov believes that blatant lie, or heads would have rolled by this time.

  Please make your point. Grant, the president said, impatience beginning to show on his strained face. />
  Zhilinkhov is insane, desperate, sir, Wilkinson continued.

  Now he believes his plan is still safe because the Kremlin operative is dead. We don't know when he will strike. We only know he intends to blast us into oblivion.

  Wilkinson exhaled sharply, looked at the ceiling, then back to the president. We either strike first. Mister President, Wilkinson waited a long four seconds, or we become a nation that was.

  I just need more information, more intelligence before I can make a decision affecting the future of this planet, the president said, as much to himself as to anyone around the elaborate table.

  With respect, sir, Wilkinson said in a soothing tone, the next piece of information you receive will most likely be a Russian warhead penetrating the roof.

  Goddamnit, Grant, the president shouted, shocking the entire staff, I need time, time to think this through and arrive at a logical conclusion.

  The room returned to silence, tension straining nerves to the breaking point. Fear began to grip the minds of the staff members.

  Sir, Susan Blaylocke leaned over to the president, talking gently, would you consider taking a short break?

  No, Susan, the president replied in a calm voice. We need to resolve this. Now.

  Wilkinson started to speak, then fell silent as he saw the president raise his pencil and start pointing, running the pencil back and forth, at the chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

  ' * Admiral, the president began slowly, once again in control of himself, the lives of millions of people, let alone the future of this country the future of the world are on the line.

  The president grabbed his pencil with both hands, holding it in front of his face. You are convinced, along with the other military chiefs, that we have no other choice: we must launch a nuclear strike against the Soviet Union? You are totally, unequivocally, convinced this course of action is in the best interest of the United States?

  Chambers sat up straight, shoulders squared, and looked into the president's eyes. Yes, sir.

  SNAP!!

  The broken pencil sounded like a rifle shot in the quiet, tense room.