Magruder understood what the President was saying. The missiles exchanged in the Arabian Sea so far had less to do with mistaken perceptions or tit-for-tat retaliation than with a clash of mutually opposed national policies. The excuse for the attack on CBG-14 might well be the sinking of an Indian submarine; the reality was less well defined but far more vast.
“They want us out of the Indian Ocean then,” Magruder said simply.
“That’s it. They’re phrasing it oh-so-politely … but it amounts to an ultimatum. All foreign naval forces are to clear out of their War Exclusion Zone at once. Foreign national military vessels or squadrons still in the Arabian Sea, or not clearly on a course leading out of the WEZ, will be subject to attack after noon tomorrow, our time.”
“God.”
“Other military squadrons, those not within the Exclusion Zone, are, ah, ‘strongly urged’ to honor the IOZP declaration by leaving the Indian Ocean entirely. The question of Diego Garcia is to be settled at a future conference either here or in New Delhi within the next six weeks.
The ambassador informed me that they will be presenting a motion to this effect before the United Nations this afternoon.”
Magruder digested this. “What are you planning to do about it, Mr. President?”
The man behind the desk sighed, his shoulders slumping. “There’s not a hell of a lot of choice, is there? Our whole national foreign policy is wedded to the Persian Gulf and the traffic there. Our entire history has been dedicated to freedom of the seas. I can’t back down on this … and they damn well know it.”
“Then they want a war with us?”
“I doubt it. My guess is they’re hoping to broker some sort of agreement where they become responsible for shipping in and out of the Gulf, maybe with us as junior partners. For the moment, though, they just want foreigners out of the Arabian Sea so they can prosecute their war with Pakistan.”
“The war.” Magruder gave a grim smile. “I’d just about forgotten about that.”
“Hell, the Pakistan war is what this is all about, Tom. India has always distrusted our relationship with Pakistan and probably thinks we’ll back Islamabad against them. If they can get us out of the way, they can blockade Karachi and not have to watch their backs.”
Magruder tugged at his ear. “They’re not giving you many options.”
The President looked up at the map across the room. “Well, there is one option.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“I had another visitor in here this morning. Crack of dawn. Anatoly Druzhinin, the Commonwealth representative. He made an interesting … offer.”
“And a highly questionable one, sir,” Hall said, breaking his silence.
The President gave his advisor a wan smile. “I know how you feel about it, George. You’ve told me. There doesn’t seem to be much choice, does there?”
“The Navy staff has been champing at the bit on this one, Mr. President.
Maybe they’re right. We don’t need the Russkies.”
“”Don’t need … ‘” Magruder’s eyes widened. “You mean the Russians are offering to help, sir?”
“They are indeed. Their Indian Ocean flotilla, SOVINDRON, is already enroute for Turban Station. They’ll be there late tomorrow afternoon, though their aircraft will be within range before that. The squadron is built around the Kreml, one of their two new nuclear-powered jobs.”
Kreml … Russian for Kremlin. Magruder blinked. He’d followed the available intelligence on what had been the Soviet nuclear carrier program for years, of course, but so far the Russian flattops had not ventured far from their own waters. He remembered the red line on the map at his back and realized that it must mark SOVINDRON’s position.
“Accompanying Kreml are six other warships of various types. An Oscar-class nuclear attack sub. A Kresta II cruiser. We think it’s the Marshal Timoshenko, but that hasn’t been confirmed yet. Two destroyers.
Two frigates. They’re suggesting we form a combined task force with their squadron and CBG-14 for the express purpose of pressuring India and Pakistan to back off. It would effectively double our force in the area … and demonstrate to India and Pakistan that there is a united world consensus behind this, well before the UN could do anything about it. We hope this might shake the UN into speeding things up. God knows, they don’t have much time.”
“Russians!” Magruder exploded. “Son of a bitch!”
“Do you have a problem with that, Admiral?”
Magruder was embarrassed. “Uh, no, sir. No problem. I’m just … surprised.”
The President grinned. “It surprised the hell out of me, I’ll tell you.” He glanced at Hall, who was frowning. “I’ve been told that the Russians are more interested in reestablishing their global reach than in stopping that war.”
“It’s possible, sir. They’ve lost a lot of prestige worldwide lately.”
“You’re right. And I agree. This is probably the best chance Moscow has had since the Persian Gulf War to let the world know that the Commonwealth can be a world-class superpower.”
“I also happen to believe they’d like to avoid a nuclear war that close to home,” the President continued. He leaned forward, his hands clasping in front of him. “You know, Tom, if this thing spreads, if it turns nuclear, South Asia could just fall apart. Never mind whether the war spreads to other countries or directly threatens our interests in the region. We’ll have vast areas of devastation from Afghanistan to central India. We’ll have people starving to death by the hundreds of millions! And hundreds of millions more will be on the move … looking for food, for clean water, for a place to escape the horror. Can you grasp numbers like that? I sure as hell can’t!
“My feeling is that the Russians have enough trouble inside their own borders right now without having to deal with starving refugees by the millions … or Islamic warlords stepping into the power vacuum and calling for some damned religious crusade … or clouds of fallout drifting north across the border. Did you know Uzbekistan grows most of the Commonwealth’s cotton? That some of their best wheat and livestock-raising lands are in Kazakhstan? My God, a nuclear war just a few hundred miles from their border could be a catastrophe for the whole damned country! They’re having enough economic problems without nuclear devastation to add to it.”
“And if things get worse in the Commonwealth,” Magruder began.
“They’ll get bad for us too. We’re looking at a situation as dangerous as anything in the Cold War days. Maybe worse!”
Admiral Magruder leaned forward in his chair. “I’m still not sure what a carrier task force could do out there, Mr. President. Even with two carriers on station.”
“That’s why I called you in here, Tom. Maybe you can give us some thoughts on the situation. The one hard idea that’s surfaced in the NSC meetings so far calls for air strikes against Indian supply routes. The Indians have got to be gambling on a fast end to their war. If we could delay them, maybe things would bog down and we could get them talking to each other instead of shooting. Certainly, if the Indian advance stalls, the Pakistanis will feel less inclined to start tossing nukes around.”
“Mr. President,” Hall said. “This is an incredibly dangerous move. It could also be a political disaster for-“
“Fuck politics, George!” The President stood suddenly behind his desk.
“We’re talking about trying to disarm two tough street kids before they burn down the block!”
Hall looked stunned. “Yes, sir.”
“Wait outside. I’ll buzz if I need you.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Hall left the room.