“Sister, I’m listening to you next time,” Halverson cried. “And here comes another pair of 130s. Let’s get ’em. I want to head back to Igloo empty, refuel, rearm, and do it all over again!”
“Roger that!”
Halverson shut her eyes for just a second.
Jake, if you can hear me, then you know what I’m thinking…
Major Alice Dennison couldn’t afford to leave her JSF command post in Tampa and was closely monitoring the data coming in to her from Alaska, where the 11th Air Force and 3rd Wing from Elmendorf and the 354th Fighter Wing from Eielson had scrambled to intercept the Russian transports, along with that handful of JSF fighters whose pilots had been training in the Northwest Territories.
She couldn’t leave, but she shuddered with the desire to do so, to travel back to Gitmo and question Doletskaya again.
However, she had arranged the next best thing — a video conference with the prisoner.
And, despite her better judgment, she stole away to a private conference room for ten minutes to speak one last time with Colonel Pavel Doletskaya.
She thought maybe she could put the demons to rest and begin to actually sleep.
The colonel looked even more haggard than the last time she had seen him, gray stubble creeping across his chin, and it seemed an effort for him to keep his head upright. His eyes failed to focus, then finally he blinked and leaned forward, too close to the camera, then threw his head back and suddenly laughed.
“Colonel, stop it.”
After another few seconds, he composed himself and said, “I’m sorry, Major. I just… I can see that look in your eyes. So, are we happy with the information I gave you? Because you don’t look very happy.”
“No, we’re perfectly fine with it.”
His expression grew serious. “You’re bluffing.”
“You cried like a baby, Colonel. I know exactly what Operation 2659 is and exactly who Snegurochka aka the snow maiden is, all right?”
“So then, why have you interrupted my vacation?”
Dennison took a deep breath. Yep, she was bluffing. She hadn’t learned a damned thing — the bastard was the most highly skilled and resistant prisoner the interrogators had ever encountered. In fact, at this point, they swore he knew nothing…
But Dennison refused to believe that. “I just thought it would be in your best interests to formally defect. That way, you would enjoy the benefits of such a decision.”
“You don’t know anything, do you. You ran 2659 through every database in the world, compared the number to other operations, thought it might be an address, a date, a model number for the memory chip of a computer. You’ve had experts from every government agency looking at it, people trained to study ciphers, even that agent from the CIA who swears he decrypted the messages on that statue outside the office in Langley. What’s it called? Kryptos? Yes… But you know nothing — or rather, you know that I know everything about you.”
“Colonel, this is not a game. Do you have any idea how many innocent people are about to die?”
“I do — even more so than you.”
“Is it worth it?”
“Oh, those kinds of questions give me a headache, Major. I want to know if you have redecorated your apartment recently. Maybe you have pulled up the rugs, decided to buy some new lights for the ceiling? Or maybe some new paintings?”
“Operation 2659 is the invasion of Alberta. The snow maiden is the code name for an operative, a female operative who is part of or perhaps leading the mission.”
“Yes, you knew that before we ever met. The Euros fed you that on a spoon. And since then, you’ve spent all your time reading fairy tales…”
“This is your last chance, Colonel. Otherwise, you’re going to rot in prison for the rest of your life. You could defect, tell us what we need to know. You could work with us to bring a peaceful solution to this conflict.”
“Do you want to be president of the United States? Because you sound so convincing.”
“Did you murder Viktoria Antsyforov?”
“No, she killed me.”
“Colonel…”
“This I will tell you. She was my mistress, a brilliant officer, but her ego and ambition got in the way. I did not kill her, but she made many enemies in the GRU.”
“She was the snow maiden.”
“Of course not, Colonel. You are.”
Dennison snickered. “How am I part of your invasion plan?”
“You are the one with the cold heart who is trying to stop it. You are the one we worried about most of all.”
“I’m a JSF operations officer. I’m not chairman of the Joint Chiefs. I don’t wield that kind of power.”
“You are more powerful than you know.”
“Colonel, will you defect?”
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. “Good-bye, Major.”
EIGHTEEN
The USS Florida had surfaced once more, and Commander Jonathan Andreas stood in the sail, shuddering against the cold wind and holding the satellite phone to his ear, waiting for someone to answer.
“Hello, Commander Andreas, this is COMPACFLT Duty Officer. Please hold for Admiral Stanton.”
She already knew he was calling?
He waited about twenty seconds, then a familiar voice jolted him. “Good morning, Jon. It’s Donald Stanton.”
“Uh, good morning,” he responded tentatively.
“How much time can you give me?”
Andreas glanced around at the black waves crashing against the equally black skin of his boat. “I’m comfortable with five to ten minutes, Admiral.”
“Very well, then—”
“But, uh, with all due respect, sir, can you tell me the title of that speech you gave in the old sub base auditorium last fourth of July?”
“Oh, that one,” Stanton said with a slight chuckle. “That would be ‘101 Ways Chief Petty Officers Trick Admirals into Believing We Run the Navy.’ ”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Good man. Now I’ll talk fast. The Russians shot down the ELF and Comsat satellite, Michigan’s back online, and we have one SITREP from you that’s two days old. News doesn’t get any better. The Russians have begun moving a large force, perhaps two brigades, into the Northwest Territories, most likely headed for Alberta, for the cities, the oil reserves, the whole shebang. I’ve heard they’re running more sorties than they did in Paris. On top of that, the president ordered the destruction of the International Space Station, since the Russkies used it to shoot down our satellites and were preparing to strike other targets. Now you talk, Jon, I’ll listen.”
Andreas’s mouth fell open, and it took a few seconds before he could launch into a capsule summary of his observations regarding the Russian task force, concluding with, “Sir, request permission to destroy those ships.”
“Permission granted.”
“There’s an opportunity at 0500, when they’ll engage in refueling ops. I’m going to seize it.”
“Excellent. For now, though, get back under, stay safe, and make this your last voice call. We’ll start sending you traffic via the sat phone data link so you don’t need to transmit anything. I’m sure you’ve already surmised this phone is manned 24/7, and right now it’s the only working number on the Iridium system.”
That explained how the duty officer knew who was calling when she answered the phone.
“Aye-aye, sir. I’ll try to poke my nose up every two hours starting from the termination of this call.”
“Good.”
“Oh, and one personal item, Admiraclass="underline" please have someone call my wife and tell her to change our PIN.”
“Right. I’ll call her myself. Good hunting, Captain.”