He smiled. “Not everyone does. Your Miss Winston, for instance. This is why you were selected, and not the others.”
Does everybody in the world know about Cary Winston? What is he trying to tell me by letting me know they know about her?
Drake decided that discretion was the better part of valor. She smiled. “She is very young. With time, she may be all right.”
“Perhaps. But she will not be here.”
The two Russian officers led the way toward the stern of the ship, descending another two decks. Pamela followed, dividing her attention between the passageways and the complaints of Jeff behind her as he maneuvered his gear through tight openings.
Surprisingly, the passageways looked very much like they did on America’s carrier. The markings on the bulkheads were in Cyrillic rather than English letters and the compartment numbering scheme appeared to be slightly different. But there was the familiar sense of too many people crammed into too-small spaces and the odd combination smell of fuel and cooking that she’d noticed on the deck. They passed a few sailors, who pressed themselves against the bulkhead in order to let them pass, even though there was more than enough room. A few murmured polite greetings. All averted their eyes.
Finally, when Drake sensed that they must be near the stern, they went up three decks. They were just below the flight deck, and the motion of the ship was more pronounced than it had been amidships.
The public information officer tapped out the security code on a cipher lock, then stepped back to allow them to precede him into the room. Pamela walked in, and saw that the bulkhead was crammed with consoles. In the center of the room, a large, spotless steel-and-white setup extended through the ceiling overhead.
“A laser,” she said softly. She turned to face him, her excitement visible. “This is your system, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Tested extensively but not yet ready for live targets.” He held up one hand as the cameraman fumbled with his gear. “I’m sorry. No pictures. Not yet.”
“May I get a closer look?” she asked.
“Yes, of course.”
She walked slowly around it, trying to memorize the details. There was a large, clear cylinder in the center, with a maze of wires and connections at either end. Steel struts marked with calibration figures ringed it, holding it so perfectly in alignment that it looked unnatural.
In truth, there was not much to see. It looked remarkably similar to the one on board Jefferson. But she studied anyway, trying to memorize the details, counting the struts and supports with one part of her mind as the other worked out the wording she would use to describe it to her audience. “We are on the record?” she asked to confirm their status. “You know that term?”
“Yes. And I hope,” he continued, with what was apparently a burst of candor, “that you will tell the Americans that we are quite far along in our own program. Should they decide to deploy their laser system, we will not be far behind. Not far behind at all. However, I think that world opinion may have something to say about both systems. When the testing alone results in the deaths of innocent civilians, how much more dangerous would full-scale deployment be?”
“A very good question,” she said. “And one that deserves an answer.”
He smiled at her now, his expression relieved. “And the answers, as you must suspect, must come from your own people. We have shown you our system. Now ask them to show you theirs.”
“I don’t think they will.” She shrugged. “You must know that I’m not in their good graces right now. Not after what Winston did.”
“Yes, of course. That is the reason you are here. I think there can be little doubt that your network is willing to report stories that are not entirely flattering to your country.”
“An understatement, but thank you for the compliment. It took a good deal of pressure for the admiral to allow me to come over here from the carrier, you know. They have tried to silence us, but it isn’t working.”
The Russian nodded sympathetically. “I must tell you, Miss Drake. I think the story you’re after is not the one you’ll eventually find. There has been a serious tragedy here, one that could have been avoided by honest communications between all parties. The responsibility for this lies with your — with the Americans.”
“Please go on.” Drake kept her expression neutral.
“Let me ask you this first,” the Russian said. “Why exactly are the Americans here?”
“Routine operations, as I understand it.”
The Russian looked her over carefully, as though trying to see into her mind. “And you believe that?”
“Well, I’m fairly familiar with normal carrier operations, and so far I have had no reason to doubt it. Should I?”
He laughed aloud. “Now I am certain that the story you will get is not the one you’re expecting. Miss Drake, that battle group is not here on routine operations. They are testing an advanced weaponry system, one called theater ballistic missile defense, or TBMD. There are no laser communications, no oceanographic experiments. We are conducting a test of a new weapon, yes. And your Americans are conducting their own tests to counter it.” He watched her closely for a moment, observing her reaction, then nodded in satisfaction. “I thought so. They did not tell you, did they?”
“What exactly does this TBMD do?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“It uses lasers to conduct a soft kill on a missile. It scrambles the electronics in the guidance system. Once that happens, it goes off course. Without guidance, the propulsion will cut out, and once inertia is overcome, it simply falls into the ocean.”
“This all sounds very routine, then,” Drake said, as though bored. “Surely this isn’t the first time that you have conducted tests and the Americans have conducted tests of their countermeasures? It’s very interesting, but not astounding.”
“There’s more. The Americans were not testing countermeasures. They were testing a laser system as well.”
Drake didn’t have to fake the surprise on her face. Yes, it all made sense. She had known from the beginning that Coyote and Tombstone were not being honest about Jefferson’s mission, and the Russian’s report just confirmed it. And knowing that she did not know the truth, they had sent her here anyway, to find out how much the Russians knew. Surely they had known that the Russians would tell her what they suspected. They must have been counting on it, in fact. All that talk about a new weapon system, the radar she was to look for — just a cover story to sidetrack her. In reality, she should have been looking for that evidence on board Jefferson instead of on the Russian ship.
“What are your plans now?” she said, operating on automatic. “The search and rescue will continue, surely.”
The Russian shrugged. “Your captain had it right. If there were more survivors from Montego Bay, we would have found them by now. We will continue to search for a few more days, but our hopes are dwindling quickly. I would be surprised if we find anything.”
“Our sympathies to their families, of course,” Drake murmured. Her mind was racing furiously as she tried to shape the new story in her mind. How much of it would she tell? How much secrecy was vital to national security, and how much was simply reflective of government secrecy?
“The reason I am showing you all this,” the Russian continued after a moment, “is that you must find some way to convince the Americans how very serious the situation is. They tested their system, they caused the sinking of a civilian ship, then they tried to blame it on us. We view this as an act of aggression, an attempt to rally world opinion against us. We cannot allow this to continue. Unless there is a prompt admission of guilt and a complete apology — there were fifteen Russians on board Montego Bay—we will be forced to act to protect our own interests and to demonstrate the efficacy of our own system. It has been suggested that the USS Jefferson might be a suitable target.”