“Mr. President, I’ve just had word. The Russians have hacked our main cable and TV networks.”
“Hijacked American broadcasters?”
“We’ve been working on the same thing ourselves, sir. But only in case of a major conflict.”
“It’s an act of war! Get me the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. And get Kozlov off our air.”
“Sir, the only thing we can do is order all networks to cease broadcasting, to go black.”
“Do it,” barked Stokes.
“It will take a few minutes.”
“Goddamnit, just do it”
Meanwhile Stokes was unable to tear his eyes from the images of Kozlov on all six of the monitors facing him:
“I will now reveal to the American public the true duplicity of your leader,” said Kozlov. “Six months before your elections, Walter Stokes asked me to journey to Iceland for a secret meeting to discuss possible measures we might take together. As I have always been interested in improving relations with your country, I agreed.”
As he continued, Kozlov was briefly distracted by his military aide who slid a note onto his desk. Irritated by the interruption, the Russian president glanced away from the teleprompter to read the scrawled message: “Strongly advise you not proceed any further. General Staff extremely upset by what they see as ‘another dangerous provocation by you of the U.S.’”
Kozlov shook his head vigorously. There was no way he was going to stop; not until he had destroyed Stokes. The generals would pay for their treasonous views. He looked back straight into the lens. “As I was saying, President Stokes and I met in very great secrecy at our Russian ambassador’s residence in Reykjavik. We spoke for three hours, with only our interpreters present. It was there that Stokes promised me a new era in Russian-American relations.”
In the Oval Office, President Stokes was striding furiously around the room, screaming into the speakerphone, “How the fuck can American TV still be broadcasting such Russian crap!”
“Sir, it will be just another couple of minutes, it’s just not that easy to do.”
In the Kremlin, Kozlov continued:
“I went to meet the American president out of a desire to improve the chances for peace in the world. I soon found your President Stokes had a much different goal in mind. He made it clear he expected to profit personally from any rapprochement between our two countries. You Americans should not be fooled. Your president is not out to benefit America but only himself. Look. This was five months before the U.S. elections.”
Kozlov was abruptly distracted again. His military aide was standing beside the TV camera vigorously shaking his head. He held up another scribbled message, “Situation critical. Chiefs of General Staff furious.” Let them be furious, thought Kozlov. I appointed those pricks myself to power. I will deal with them after this broadcast. He looked at the broadcast director and nodded forcefully for him to play the waiting tape.
The screen was filled by a video of Walter Stokes and Vasily Kozlov with their interpreters sitting across from each other in a teak-paneled library. The scene had been captured by two hidden Russian cameras. “Russian Ambassador’s Residence – Reykjavik, July 8,” read the caption underneath. The meeting obviously concluded, the two men rose and shook hands. Stokes grinned broadly and clapped Kozlov on the shoulders.
“Vasily,” he said, “this is a marvelous deal. It’s going to make both of us very, very rich. You don’t know how much I’m looking forward to showing you around my new spread in Texas. We’ve got a great relationship ahead of us. You can bet on it!”
In the Oval Office, watching the broadcast with Cliff Dayton, Stokes stared in disbelief at the monitors. But all he could do was tweet:
“All lies, all lies what u hearing from crazy Kozlov. U.S. television has been hijacked. all lies, ALL LIES. @PresStokes
“That is not me. Was never in Iceland. Never. Just actors. Fakefakefake @PresStokes
“Don’t believe any of this. Klepto Kozlov hallucinating. LIES LIES!@PresStokes”
“Following that meeting,” continued the Russian president, “our security services informed me that President Stokes employed the services of three local prostitutes in the most lascivious manner. We have tape of that as well as similar shameful erotic excesses of the man who has become your president. We are making those tapes available on Wiki Leaks.”
“Klepto Kozlov” is lying, folks. Tape is a fraud! Not true! Believe me. All the tapes are frauds. Don’t believe a word! DISGUSTING! @PresStokes”
“What can you Americans do about this?” Kozlov looked gravely at the camera, “It is not for me to interfere in your…”
Suddenly the monitors in the Oval Office were filled with visual static and went black for a couple of seconds. When the programming resumed, it was the normally scheduled broadcasts.
There again on CNN was Wolf Blitzer: “We are back after an incredibly successful Russian takeover of America’s major broadcasts. This has been an amazing fifteen minutes. We are putting together a panel of experts to discuss what this all means. Meanwhile…”
In his Kremlin office, Kozlov turned from the camera, a grim smile on his lips. He had destroyed Stokes. Now to deal with the generals.
In the Oval Office, despite Cliff Dayton’s attempts to restrain him, Stokes was still tweeting his rage.
“By attacking America’s President, Klepto Kozlov is attacking our beautiful country itself. We will not stand for it KOZLOV BEWARE!@PresStokes
“KleptoKozlov don’t forget who is world’s strongest military power. Don’t screw with us. USA.USA!@PresStokes”
In Corridor Nine of the E Ring of the Pentagon, in the offices of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Army Colonel Arnold Lawson, tasked with monitoring social media, forwarded the latest flurry of presidential tweets to Admiral Len Coop, chairman of the Joint Chiefs.
“Shit,” said Coop. He shot off a message to the other four Chiefs: “Looks like what we were concerned about is actually happening. Meet in the Tank in five minutes. Bring only yourselves.” Coop then ordered Colonel Lawson to set up an encrypted call with General Artyom Borovik in the Kremlin.
And the tweets continued: “Either Klepto Kozlov retracts lies & undoes thievery of his hackers, or I take action. No weapon is off the table!@PresStokes”
Stokes also called the White House bureau of Fox News. “Got an extremely important statement to make about those fucking Russians and our national security, possibly even nuclear war. Who knows? Tell your people to get their asses over here immediately,” he ordered.
There was a slight hesitation at the other end. “Yes, Mr. President. It may take us a few minutes, sir.”
“I said immediately,” said Stokes hanging up.
Meanwhile, in the Kremlin, as the TV technicians were removing their equipment, Vasily Kozlov summoned his military aide. “I want to know who were those sons of whore generals trying to stop that broadcast. I want their names, now.”
The aide, however, was white-faced, staring at the office door. Standing there in full dress uniforms were General Artyom Borovik, with four of the five top officers of the General Staff.
“The officers you are looking for are here,” said Borovik, striding into the office.
Kozlov froze, and then snarled, “You wouldn’t dare.” He lunged toward his desk drawer.
“Don’t make another move,” said Borovik.
Behind him was a squad of Russian troops from the Spetsnaz, the equivalent of the U.S. Special Forces. Three of them leveled their weapons at Kozlov.