“Opening tube Ten,” the Launch Supervisor reported as the green indicating light for tube Ten turned yellow. Shortly thereafter, the indicating light turned red. “Hatch, tube Ten, open and locked.”
A few seconds later, the Launch Operator reported, “Missile One, tube Ten, away.”
The first of Michigan’s Tomahawks was ejected from the submarine, with the missile’s engines igniting once it was above the ocean surface. In rapid succession, another missile followed every five seconds, with the Tomahawk Attack Weapon System automatically opening and closing the missile tube hatches as required. Michigan’s Tomahawks streaked east.
Sheree Hinton returned to the Roosevelt Room, stopping by the door. “The president is ready to see you.”
Ambassador Chandra rose without a word and followed Hinton into the hallway. But instead of entering the Oval Office, Hinton led the way to the basement of the West Wing. As they approached the Situation Room, an Indian idiom came to mind.
There is something black in the lentil soup.
The Americans were up to something.
Chandra entered the Situation Room, joining the American president, his chief of staff, SecDef McVeigh, and SecState Cabral, who were seated at the table. The Americans did not rise from their seats when he entered. Instead, Kevin Hardison pulled a chair back partway. Chandra took his seat while Hinton departed, closing the door behind her, sealing him inside the Situation Room with the four Americans.
The president said, “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to join us, Ambassador.”
There was a hint of sarcasm in the president’s voice, for what reason Chandra was uncertain.
“For the last fifteen years,” the president said, “the United States and India have worked diligently to improve relations between our countries, and we’ve made much progress. However, your recent actions have cast doubt upon our relationship.”
Chandra had no viable response.
The president continued, “Your actions last week were tantamount to a declaration of war.” There was a hard edge to his words, and his voice dropped a notch. “And now I must decide the proper response to your aggression and the future of our relationship.”
Under different circumstances, Chandra would have avoided the president’s incriminating gaze. A long silence ensued as Chandra chose his words carefully. As he began to respond, the president held up a placating hand.
“The United States values its relationship with India, and it would be a shame to discard so many years of progress. As China’s influence in the Pacific grows, I cannot overstate the value of our friendship. What happened in the Arabian Sea was unfortunate. But accidents happen. I’m willing to consider the possibility that our ships and aircraft accidentally got in the way of missiles intended for the Russians.”
Chandra was caught off guard. He couldn’t possibly have heard the president correctly. Could India be this fortunate, the United States so desperate for allies in the Pacific? With Russia and China growing their military and economies at a faster pace than the United States, the writing on the wall was clear. But Chandra was surprised the Americans were willing to look the other way.
“I agree,” Chandra replied. “Accidents do happen on occasion, and we will work to ensure they do not occur in the future.”
“Excellent,” the president said. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.” He offered a tight smile, then said, “I’d like to discuss this situation with President Madan. We’ve arranged a conference call.”
Hardison punched the number into a conference phone on the table. The call was answered after the first ring.
“This is President Madan.”
The American president conveyed his thoughts on the recent incident to Madan, following the outline of his discussion with Ambassador Chandra.
There was a long silence on the line before Madan replied, “I agree. We have forged a vital relationship over the last few years, and we will work to repair the damage done.”
“As will we,” the president said. “I look forward to setting aside what occurred, and is about to occur, so we can strengthen our relationship.”
“About to occur?” President Madan asked.
The president checked the clock on the Situation Room wall. “You have five minutes to vacate the presidential palace. Anyone remaining inside will not live to see another day. Do I make myself clear?”
There was no response from President Madan. Instead, the line went dead.
Hardison grabbed a remote from the table and activated the video screen on the far wall. A satellite image of India’s presidential palace appeared — the 340-room Rashtrapati Bhavan in New Delhi — and it wasn’t long before men and women began streaming from the exits, dispersing into the 320-acre complex.
As the last few stragglers hurried down the front steps, the entire east facade of the building disintegrated as several dozen explosions rippled across the front of the palace, the black-tinged fireballs roiling upward.
Turning to Ambassador Chandra, the president said, “It looks like your presidential palace accidentally got in the way of a few Tomahawk missiles. As we learned all too well last week, accidents happen. Please convey my sincere apologies to President Madan.”
EPILOGUE
MOSCOW
As sunlight streamed into his Kremlin office through tall Palladian windows behind him, President Kalinin sat at his desk, deep in thought. With two key positions temporarily vacant — Russia’s minister of defense and director of the SVR — Kalinin had convened today’s meeting in his office instead of the conference room. Seated across from him were General Andropov, Fleet Admiral Lipovsky, and Foreign Minister Lavrov. The three men waited while Kalinin sorted through the magnitude of their naval defeat.
Russia’s Northern and Pacific Fleets had been ravaged, with every surface combatant sunk or heavily damaged. The submarine force had fared much better, still fielding over thirty attack submarines. The significant numerical advantage beneath the waves, with most of America’s submarines still undergoing repair, weighed heavily on Kalinin’s deliberation.
“What is the status of our Alexander class?” he asked.
“We have one operational submarine so far,” General Andropov replied. “However, it was withheld from battle pending resolution of defects in its new capability. We are pushing the cutting edge of technology,” Andropov offered as an excuse, “but we will test a solution next month. Additionally, two more Alexander class are nearing completion. With six Alexander class leading our submarine force, the American submarine fleet would be overwhelmed.”
Kalinin replied, “As we experienced in the Arabian Sea, the Americans have more anti-submarine forces at their disposal besides submarines. Their surface combatants and aircraft are formidable assets.”
General Andropov replied. “We still have the Zolotov option.”
“That’s a very dangerous plan,” Minister Lavrov said. “A path from which we cannot turn back. We cannot predict how America would respond.”
“There will be no response from the United States,” Andropov replied. “That’s the purpose of the Zolotov option: to eliminate their ability.”
President Kalinin weighed his options in silence, moving slowly toward a decision. The United States had publicly humiliated both Kalinin and Russia. A response was required.
“You may proceed,” Kalinin said. “Order both submarine shipyards to twenty-four-hour shiftwork to complete the next two Alexander class as soon as possible. Regarding the Zolotov option, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”