Both Alvarez and Lloyd replied, “Yes, Mr. President.”
“And you, Joanna, I need those ground sample results as soon as you can possibly get them to me. But, they have to be done right. We can’t afford a mistake on this, we have to be extremely confident of our findings.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Good. We’ll also need to release the results of the analyses at the same time, we just can’t make a claim like this and ask the world simply to believe us. I want a succinct, but very basic report that we can release publicly. Remember a lot of non-tech-savvy politicians are going to read this, so we have to make this easy to understand. Got it?”
The three advisors all nodded and headed for the door.
Samant took another swig of his cold Kingfisher lager; he badly needed a morale boost. He’d arrived early so he could have some time to unwind; the day had been one long serving of bad karma. Petrov walked in exactly at eight o’clock, signaled the bartender, and ordered, “A Kalyani Black Label, please.”
Samant chuckled as his friend sat down. “Going native on me, Aleksey? I thought you Russians preferred vodka?”
“No, no, Girish, vodka is for cooler climates. In this heat a cold lager is much better.”
“Heat? What are you talking about? It was only thirty-one degrees Centigrade today!”
“Where I come from, we cook at those temperatures,” Petrov said with a wink. The waitress delivered his beer, and after thanking her, he raised his bottle and said, “Nostrovia!”
“Cheers!” replied Samant as they clinked their bottles.
After ordering dinner, and taking a sip or two of beer, Samant finally broke the ice. “So, what luck did you have?”
Petrov smiled as he spoke. “Actually, better than I thought. I confirmed with the naval liaison staff that the only new Russian weapon being added to Chakra’s arsenal is the UGST-M torpedo, and that the necessary combat system modifications are actually quite minor. Nothing that requires the changes Dhankhar’s staff has approved.”
Leaning forward, he went on with a hushed voice. “But I also went down to the torpedo compartment and inspected the junction boxes. Tubes one through four, the original fifty-three-centimeter torpedo tubes, have the proper boards with the connectors for the new wiring. Tubes five through eight, the converted sixty-five-centimeter torpedo tubes, do not.”
Samant looked puzzled. “I don’t recall seeing any extra connectors. And I’ve inspected those junction boxes numerous times.”
“I’m not surprised, Girish,” Petrov said with another wink. “They’re on the back side of the circuit board. You have to know where to look to find them. The boards appear to be original pieces of equipment. I tried to get the liaison staff to track down the serial numbers, but Osinov refused. He claimed he didn’t have the personnel or time for such foolishness.”
“If the boards were there from the original transfer, why weren’t they replaced? All the other equipment capable of supporting nuclear weapons was removed.”
“I suspect the shipyard just left them in place, because with everything else gone, it wouldn’t matter. They could save a few rubles by not replacing them.”
“Did you ask about the extra wiring?” questioned Samant.
“Of course, I told Osinov that the wiring didn’t appear to support anything and I asked him why I had to do it given the severely shortened schedule. He told me that if the ‘stupid Indians’ wanted the extra wiring routed, then by God we’d route the wiring. He wasn’t going to have another cabling debacle on his hands like the one with the Gorshkov aircraft carrier transfer. Oh, and the wiring work is to be performed by a technician named Evgeni Orlav. Rumor has it he has been working ridiculously long hours in an isolated area of the shipyard, and supposedly reports directly to Dhankhar himself, even though he’s assigned to an Indian naval engineer.”
The two men paused their discussion as their meals were served. Petrov took a bite while the waitress moved out of earshot. “What did you find out from your masters in Mumbai, Girish?”
Samant waited as he swallowed. “I had a very unsatisfying discussion this afternoon with both the heads of weapons developments at the Directorate of Naval Design and the assistant chief of naval staff submarine acquisitions. Both said basically the same thing, the only nuclear-armed weapons that will go on Indian submarines are ballistic and land-attack cruise missiles. When I asked about torpedoes or ASW missiles with nuclear warheads, they laughed. Apparently DRDO has some plans, but they are many years in the future. And, of course, there are no intentions to augment Chakra’s weapons capability with any indigenous Indian ordnance — it’s against the contract we have with your nation.”
Petrov nodded, then wiped his mouth. He looked around the room, checking to see if anyone was taking an interest in their conversation. “Here’s another tidbit for you, Girish. I was told by an Indian engineer that the combat system change was signed by Vice Admiral Bava on March tenth. The engineer was most unhappy with this, as it was a new requirement that interfered with some of his work and he wanted to coordinate scheduling with my technician. Not only does this confirm that a Russian national will do the modification to the combat system, but when this change was approved.”
“The tenth of March? That’s the very day I was relieved of command!”
“Coincidence?” responded Petrov skeptically. “I think not. Girish, all these events, the new modification, your reassignment, reactions to the Kashmir blast, everything seems connected. And all these connections come together at Vice Admiral Dhankhar’s doorstep.”
“I agree that is how it appears, Aleksey. But how do we prove such an incredible theory? If Dhankhar is behind all of this, if he has somehow obtained submarine-launched nuclear weapons and is installing them on Chakra, he can’t be acting alone. He would need support at the most senior levels.”
“You said that there were numerous senior officers unhappy with the peace negotiations. Are they that unhappy? Do they truly want to crush Pakistan completely?”
Samant paused briefly, considering his answer. “I’d have to say, yes. There were many flag officers on the Integrated Defence Staff that strongly argued against the truce. Some members even resigned in protest over it.”
“Then, my friend, I think we have a very big problem,” observed Petrov.
“But that gets us right back to how do we prove this? I certainly can’t go up my chain of command. If we’re correct, I’d be reporting to the very individuals who are behind this plot. For all I know, the minister of defense himself could be involved. He, too, argued against the truce.” Samant grimaced.
“I’m afraid my contractor status limits my ability as well,” added Petrov. “Osinov almost threw me out of his office this afternoon. He will tolerate no more delays, or complaints. We are to finish the work we’ve been assigned, and that’s all there is to it. If I push this ‘crazy’ theory, he’ll simply fire me and bring someone in who’ll do the work with no questions asked.”
“Then who can we turn to for help? And it has to be done quietly, otherwise we’ll be discovered,” grumbled Samant.
Suddenly a smile flashed across Petrov’s face. “I think I know just who might be able to assist us. Tell me, Girish, have you ever been to America?”