"I only state the obvious, Comrade Admiral." His shoulders slumped, and he turned in his chair for a moment to stare through his office window at the bustling work in the shipyard below. "I wonder if future historians might regard our decision to attack the United States while we are fighting the Blues as, ah, somewhat less than tactically sound."
"It is a gamble certainly. But you must remember that while the Americans like to make big noises, they will be unwilling to involve themselves deeply in our internal problems."
"They fought willingly enough in Norway."
"An entirely different case. There, they came to the aid of an old ally.
As it was, they sent but a single carrier battle group, and that was very nearly too little, too late. I assure you, they will look at our civil war, and their politicians will remember Vietnam… another civil war within the living memory of most Americans. They will recognize the fact that they cannot possibly intervene on one side or the other with any hope of success."
"But for us to deliberately attack them-"
"Calm yourself," Karelin said. "So far as Washington is concerned, our nation is disintegrating into anarchy and civil war, yes? They see dozens of factions, and the possibility of renegade officers, rebels, dissidents. That, after all, is why they fear our nuclear forces. When we strike them, it will be in such a way that they will be unable to fix the blame. Perhaps one faction mistook the approaching American carrier group for a rival Russian group." Karelin spread his hands, and shrugged. "In the fog of war, regrettable mistakes happen.
"In any case, believe me, Viktor Ivanovich, when I say that the Americans have no stomach for a lengthy or expensive involvement in our war. They will harass, even sink our submarines if that is in their best interests, but they will not risk a major war. ESpecially a nuclear war now, as their news media likes to put it, that the Cold War is over."
"What will we do, then?"
Karelin shuffled through the papers, producing another map. This one showed the Kola Peninsula, from Russia's borders with Norway and Finland in the west to the landlocked waters of the White Sea in the east. The region was peppered with military bases ― airfields, SAM sites, command control centers, radar installations. And, of course, the major naval facilities at and around Polyamyy, Severomorsk, and Murmansk.
"Our intelligence indicates that one of the American carrier battle groups ― either Eisenhower or Jefferson ― will enter the Barents Sea within the next few days. They are expected to take up a patrol station within easy observation range of our submarine facilities at Polyamyy." He picked up a red pencil on the desk and circled an area two hundred kilometers north of the narrow border between Norway and Russia's Kola Peninsula. "Approximately here."
"Close enough to project ASW patrols beyond Polyamyy Inlet," Marchenko observed, "while maintaining the option of sheltering within the Norwegian fjords."
"Exactly. They can also draw on additional air support and ASW assets land-based in Norway. We intend to strike before they can take up their patrol station.
"Moscow has named the operation Ognevoy," he continued. The Russian word meant Curtain of Fire, and Karelin thought it apt. "Primary responsibility is being handed to Frontal Aviation units deployed from these airfields ― Zapolyamyy and Pechenga near the border. Kirovsk, Alakurtti, Vaga Guba, Monchegorsk inland. Overall control will be exercised through the district command facility at Kandalaksha. None of these airfields, you will notice, lies closer than one hundred kilometers to our naval facilities here at Polyamyy."
"So that the Americans, if they retaliate, will not attack our submarine bases."
"Correct. Moscow will disavow any connection with the attack, claiming that it was mounted by a small clique of anti-military Blues seeking to discredit the legal government. If the Americans retaliate, it will be against the airfields where the attack originated.
"In the meantime, you will have both of your Typhoons, Lenin's Invincible Truth and Glorious October Revolution, ready to put to sea at an instant's notice. If possible, you will deploy them under cover of bad weather, but the key factor will be to get them out of Polyamyy Inlet while the Americans are still shocked and disoriented by our strike against their battle group."
"How will I know when-"
"I will inform you. I will be at the Kandalaksha Command Center. When I see that the attack has been successful, that the American carrier is sunk or, at the least, that the enemy forces are concentrating their attention on their own defense, I will send you a coded signal. Upon receipt of that message, you will deploy the Typhoons at once. At once. It is imperative that you keep both of them ready to leave at a moment's notice."
"Understood, Comrade Admiral."
"I will be relying on you utterly, Viktor Ivanovich," Karelin said.
"Everything depends on the Typhoons reaching deep water safely and undetected.
Other PLARB submarines will be dispatched as they become available, but your two Typhoons offer us our best chance. They are the quietest submarines in the fleet and the most reliable. If any vessels can evade the American blockade, it is they."
"The Americans will have their attack submarines positioned off the mouth of the Kola Inlet, waiting for them to come out."
"That has been allowed for. ASW forces will sweep the entire area during the attack. As will our own attack subs out of Severodvinsk."
"I see." Marchenko hesitated, still studying the map.
"There is something?"
"Only a small question. Why must the Typhoons break out at all?" He gestured toward his office window, at the massive blast doors beyond. "They could launch on any city in the Union from right outside those doors."
"Because they will need time, Comrade Rear Admiral, while we deliver our ultimatum and while Leonov considers his options. And sea room to maneuver while that time is passing. Since the Blues now have the necessary launch codes, if they are insane enough to launch, then we can expect the facilities here to be their first target."
"I… see." It was obvious Marchenko had not thought of that possibility.
"These submarine shelters were designed to withstand a nuclear blast, of course," Karelin went on, "but that would not help us if the mountain over our heads collapses across the entrance. If they can reach their strategic bastions, however, safely beneath the Arctic ice…"
"As in the grand game we've played with the Americans all these years," Marchenko said, completing the thought. "Leonov and his people will not know where they are, or when they might surface and fire."
"Leonov will be forced to surrender or see his major cities, staging areas, and transportation hubs incinerated one by one. Order will be restored to a Soviet Union reborn."
"Tell me one thing more, Comrade Admiral," Marchenko said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Just between you and me."
"If I can."
"Back at the Naval Academy, and later at various staff planning exercises, we ran endless war games covering precisely this sort of situation, an attack by Frontal Aviation against an American carrier battle group approaching Russian waters. I always had the impression that the results were cooked. To keep the officers handling the Russian side from looking bad."
"That sort of thing happens. I hear they have the same problem at the Pentagon."
"I wouldn't be surprised. But tell me, what do you think? Can an attack of this sort destroy a carrier battle group? Their defenses are…
formidable."