“My apologies, sir, I know you understand the situation. But I find it unnerving that the president doesn’t seem to comprehend that for this plan of his to work, we must maintain absolute security. Sending more ships up here would only draw attention to this place. It would be like turning on a giant neon sign.”
“Agreed, Nikolai. But rest assured, President Fedorin does understand the need for security, we’ve discussed it at length — he truly appreciates the necessity. The problem is that he has grown impatient; other aspects of his strategy have been incredibly successful. He wants to maintain the momentum, that’s all. I’m sure you can sympathize with that desire.” Trusov’s calming wisdom had the desired effect on the aggravated senior naval officer, his faded breathing indicating he had calmed down.
“Now, back to the issue at hand. How long before you can get your people back to work?” asked Trusov.
“My staff meteorologist estimates it will be two days before the winds subside enough for the ships to stop bouncing about like toys. Once we can get men in the water, it should only take us a day to get the last tube in place. Then we get Arktika out of the way and shift to laying the computer network cabling.”
Trusov nodded in agreement to himself. “I wish that I had better news for you, Nikolai, but my weather mystics have said the same thing. And I concur that we need to get the icebreaker out of the area soon; it looks like the cloud cover may desert us for a few days. I don’t want to show the Americans any more than is necessary.”
“We have been fortunate, Comrade Minister, but the sun does occasionally shine up here. It is summer, after all,” chuckled Gorokhov.
“So I’ve been told,” Trusov replied, amused. “Oh, before I forget, the Project 1274 cable laying ship, Inguri, will be leaving port by the end of the month. We’ve received word that the last of the seabed hydroacoustic modules you requested have left the factory and should be at Severodvinsk by the twenty-eighth. Inguri only needs a day to load, and then four days to sail to your location. With any luck your acoustic fence should be in place and operational by the end of the first week in July.”
“That is very good news indeed, Comrade Minister,” Gorokhov remarked, but there was a hint of irritation in his voice. “It certainly took Atoll long enough to produce the Sever modules. While the minefield provides a good deal of protection, I’d like to see the holes in the defensive perimeter filled.”
“Don’t be too hard on the people at Atoll, Nikolai Vasil’evich. Your last-minute requirement for MGK-608M Sever modules unexpectedly doubled their defense order for the year. The company has been scrambling to ramp up production as quickly as they could,” scolded Trusov.
“I suppose you’re right,” grunted the admiral wearily.
“Of course I am! I’m a Russian general, don’t you know!” Both men laughed, but Gorokhov suddenly ceased when a deep yawn forced itself upon him.
“Why don’t you get some rest, Nikolai?” suggested Trusov. “You can’t do any real work for a couple of days, so catch up on some sleep.”
“That sounds like excellent advice, sir. I think I’ll do just that. I’ll inform you the moment the divers get back to work.”
President Hardy was an early riser, much to the distress of his staff. It wasn’t uncommon for him to swing by the Oval Office on his way to, or back from, his workout. Today, Hardy was on his way back. Garbed in his navy sweats and a towel around his neck, he only paused to see the pressing items on his desk; e-mail and other such electronic nagging would come later.
“Good morning, Mr. President,” greeted Sellers as he entered the office with more paper in his arms. “How are you feeling today?”
“Old and rusty, Dwight, old and rusty,” Hardy replied as he sorted through the growing pile. “Today’s exercises were a little more annoying than usual.” He rolled his right shoulder as he spoke. The slight grimace on his face betrayed the joint’s tenderness.
“Perhaps you should see the physical therapist? He might be able to loosen that shoulder for you, that or WD-40.”
Hardy laughed. “My shoulder doesn’t want to speak to Chuck right now, thank you. His range of motion physical terrorism is why I ache so much. But I like the WD-40 idea. Too bad it doesn’t work on humans.” After pushing all the files around on the desk, he looked up at Sellers and asked, “So, what’s on our docket for today?”
Sellers’s eyes rolled slightly, a bad sign. “Where would you like to start, Mr. President?”
Hardy raised his hand, ending the discussion. “Belay my last! Let’s resume after my shower.”
“A wise decision, sir.” Sellers walked by Hardy and started to rearrange the now unkempt stack. The president almost made it to the door when Sellers called out to him.
“Mr. President, I think you’ll want to look at this now. It’s a note from Admiral Hughes. Jimmy Carter is in area and will commence searching for Toledo shortly.”
Hardy reached slowly for the single piece of paper. It took him only a moment to read the note; his somber expression hid the mixed emotions. He handed the paper back to Sellers. “Thank you, Dwight. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
Without another word, Hardy left his chief of staff to his duties.
Major Ivar Talts gloried in flying his F-16AM fighter. It was one of twenty-seven aircraft purchased from the Netherlands by the three Baltic States. The price was quite favorable for the small NATO countries, and the United States provided funding and material support to overhaul the old aircraft. And for the first time in many decades, Estonia now had the ability to police its own airspace. A minor capability to be sure, but it was a huge step forward. A necessary step to counter Russia’s increasingly belligerent behavior since Fedorin became the Russian Federation president in 2018. Major Talts didn’t really care about the strategic implications right now; he was focusing on the moment as he and his wingman raced toward the Russian border at full military power.
“Golden Eagle flight, Ämari Air Base, the two bogeys bear one zero five degrees, range sixty-two kilometers, altitude five one double oh meters. Radar emissions identify the aircraft as Sierra uniform two seven Flankers.”
Talts took a deep breath under his mask. Here we go again, he thought. “Understood, Ämari. I have radar contact on the bogeys. We’re crossing over Lake Peipus now.” The Russians had been getting more and more aggressive with aircraft skimming along the border over Lake Peipus. Sometimes they went a little too far and had to be herded back across. At least Talts didn’t have to do this with the Aero L-39 anymore. An armed high performance F-16 made a far stronger impression than a lowly jet trainer.
Looking over his left shoulder at Captain Erik Lepp’s aircraft, Talts toggled his mike. “Golden Eagle Two, follow my lead and keep it professional. No aggressive maneuvers. We just want to make sure our Russian neighbors stay on their side of the line. Understood?”
“Roger, Golden Eagle One.”
It didn’t take long to reach the middle of the big lake; a metallic flash to the southeast confirmed the Russian fighters’ location. “Golden Eagle Two, visual contact to my right. Bearing one one zero.” The two Estonian aircraft banked over and slowed down to cruise speed as the distance between them and the Russian Flankers evaporated.