“Bump their heads together,” said Blitz.
Neither the President nor the secretary of state laughed.
“I think if we permit a nuclear war to proceed, we’ll have committed almost as grave a sin as those who start it,” said the President. “And I use the words in on purpose.”
D’Amici put up his hand to keep Blitz from interrupting. “I think that we have to do everything we can to prevent India from attacking Pakistan,” he continued. “Clearly, if they strike the missiles, the Pakistanis will have no option but to respond.”
“Nothing we can do will prevent them from attacking,” said Blitz. “Even if we shared intelligence, they’d simply change their plans.”
“We could also tell the Pakistanis they’re coming,” suggested Cook.
“Then how do we guarantee they wouldn’t launch a preemptive strike?” said Blitz. “If we were in that position, I would.”
“As would I,” said D’Amici.
No one said anything as the President lined up his golf balls for a fresh round. Blitz couldn’t help but think about the augmented ABM system; what would this conversation be like ten years from now? Would the President simply call both sides and tell them they wouldn’t be allowed to fight?
It would be more complicated, surely, but at a minimum they could prevent a nuclear exchange.
Ten years from now. Not now.
Maybe simple rhetoric would scare them off now. Hints, rather than hard facts — get them to realize what was at stake.
“I spoke to Howard McIntyre earlier,” said Blitz, trying to move the conversation forward. “He’s sure they’re close to action. Maybe a strongly worded speech on national television, getting the entire world’s attention; it might get them to pause.”
“If this was simply the government, that might work,” said Cook. “But this is clearly a splinter group. And as for Pakistani reaction…”
He let his voice trail off. Blitz generally had a hard time reading the secretary of state; he seemed to be something of a pacifist, yet had served in the Defense Department and came from a family that had contributed a number of generals to the Army. A onetime senator, before returning to government he had been on the board of several defense contractors.
“Assuming I appeal to both sides and that doesn’t work,” said D’Amici, “what do we do next?”
Blitz glanced at Cook, who glanced at him.
“Can we stop the Indian attack on the radar site?” asked D’Amici. He smacked his golf ball so hard it scooted nearly to the opposite wall. He walked over and retrieved it.
“That would be quite an operation,” said Blitz. “To get aircraft that deep in Pakistan-we can do it, but the Pakistanis, and probably the Indians, would see us.”
“What if we used Cyclops?” asked the President.
Blitz thought many things at once. Striking a helicopter would be fairly easy for the weapon, which had already proven it could do so in trials. It could operate out of Afghanistan and fly either over that country or just over the border. And, if successful, it would have a tremendous impact on both countries, impressing them with American resolve to prevent nuclear war.
On the other hand, it was filled with risk. American lives would be at stake; worse, if it failed and word got out about the attempt, American prestige would suffer.
What was prestige next to millions of lives? If they stopped this war, wouldn’t that prevent others? Wouldn’t it help deter attacks against America itself?
“The laser system itself may work,” said Cook. “But the plane crashed, didn’t it?”
“We have another one,” said D’Amici. “What do you think, Professor?”
“How can we trust it when the other malfunctioned?” interrupted Cook.
“There have been new developments,” Blitz said. The report on Gorman’s latest findings — and, just as important, what she wanted to do about them — would come over from the JCS. But, given the circumstances, the President would not be happy if Blitz didn’t tell him about it now. D’Amici stopped putting and stood with his golf club in his arms as Blitz summarized the latest theory and recommendations.
“I can’t believe the Russians would steal the aircraft,” said the President finally.
“Nor can I,” said Cook.
“There are questions that are worth investigating,” said Blitz.
“We can’t just invade Russia,” said Cook. “That’s what Gorman’s talking about here.”
“They want to use Cyclops Two?” said the President.
“I think the idea is that it would be able to neutralize anything the Russians had,” said Blitz, uncomfortable at carrying water for a plan that hadn’t been finalized and wasn’t his to begin with. “But it may have been added because the people at North Lake are pretty adamant about wanting to be involved.”
“If the Air Force is thinking of using Cyclops in an operation, obviously they believe it’s ready to be used,” said the President. “And if that’s the case, then we should use it in India, if all else fails.”
No one spoke for a moment. Blitz looked at a picture on the wall behind the President that showed Dwight Eisenhower taking the oath of office. D’Amici admired Ike for many reasons. Like Ike, he was in favor of a strong military, yet suspicious of the industrial complex necessary to equip it. Eisenhower had taken a proactive role in several conflicts; would he do so here?
“I’d like to see what a plan involving Cyclops looked like,” said D’Amici. “Can you take care of that, Professor?”
“Yes, sir,” said Blitz.
Chapter 11
Captain Jalil stretched his legs as he walked up the ramp to the headquarters building, fighting against the urge to run. He could think of only one reason his colonel had summoned him. The attack date had been set.
The regiment’s forward base consisted of a short airstrip and a collection of tents scattered around two L-shaped buildings, both of which appeared to date from the British occupation, if not before. Made of large clay blocks covered with more than a century’s worth of paint, the buildings had large windows along their sides; they were more like arboretums than military offices. The morning was still cool in the valley northeast of Sutak in Kashmir, and Jalil felt a chill as he walked down the long hallway. Perhaps it was energy and anticipation: He had waited so long for this that he couldn’t hope to hold himself back, now that the moment had arrived.
Jalil turned the corner to his commander’s office, entering the wide doorway and snapping to attention. His commander continued to work over something on his desk, not offering the slightest hint of acknowledgment. The commando captain stood at stiff attention the entire time; it was relaxing in a way, allowing his muscles and bones to ease into a perfect posture.
“Captain, we have a slight difficulty to deal with,” said the colonel finally before looking up.
Jalil didn’t answer. He felt disappointment — worry, really — that the plan had been canceled. But he kept his body motionless.
“Due to the nature of our arrangements, not everyone is aware of our commitments.” The colonel frowned. Only a small portion of the army and air force were involved in the plan to make the country safe from the terrorists across the border; while they knew they would be supported after the fact, success depended on maintained secrecy, even from those superiors not privy to the plan.
“We are receiving a visitor in the next day or two who must be handled very carefully,” the colonel continued. “He is an American — a spy, really — though of course he won’t admit that. I believe he was allowed to come here because the base seemed the most innocuous place for him to be: far from the front line and nearly unoccupied.”