Once Chernavin had stated his case, political minds pondered the situation and tried to imagine what the Americans might accept in exchange. It wasn’t until the following day, when the American ambassador to the United Nations made a speech before the General Assembly concerning Soviet troops poised on the Norwegian border, that the solution appeared to them.
The following week the General Assembly heard from the Soviet ambassador. He concurred that the U.S. did indeed have a point. But, Moscow’s intentions were not aggressive toward their neighbors to the west. The annual NATO exercises called Teamwork took place in the North Atlantic and extended well into the Norwegian Sea and beyond the North Cape. These exercises were structured around American carrier battle groups, and impressed upon the Soviets the need to maintain tight security in their arctic territories. After all, the U.S. and Canada over the last few years had prepositioned military supplies in northern Norway scant distances from the Soviet border. These Teamwork exercises were designed to support amphibious landings by NATO forces on Norwegian territory. The Kremlin was forced to interpret these exercises as preparation for an invasion on the Soviet Arctic. As the Soviet ambassador stated — prepositioning could be considered the first cousin to an actual declaration of war. And now, Teamwork!
Moscow had been so impressed with NATO’s annual display that they had no choice but to devise a method for protecting their arctic lands. While admitting the prepositioning of small amounts of armor and supplies, they denied any massive buildup. Not only were there no troops available to utilize this equipment, but much of their own effort had been only an exercise in prepositioning. The explanation was logical.
Further, the ambassador explained, Moscow feared the return of American carrier battle groups that summer. Because the Scandinavian countries remained neutral, the Soviet government was ready to offer a solution — they would remove what limited materiel had been prepositioned near the borders if the U.S. would agree not to send any of their naval forces north of the Arctic Circle, approximately the sixty-seventh parallel, that year. By naval forces, the Soviets meant surface, air, and subsurface units. It seemed a small enough gesture on the part of both nations toward international peace.
This olive branch was well received by members of the General Assembly.
“That speech was just so much unmitigated crap,” the head of the CIA stated to the others around the table. “Too many good men have been lost in the past couple of months to accept that kind of baloney. We have the lists of divisions and their commanders who are scattered near Murmansk just waiting to move out.” He slid a sheaf of papers toward the middle of the table. “Anybody care to look at that? Pretty close to an invasion plan if you ask me. That’s so goddamned different from what that clown claimed at the UN… it would make the devil blush…” He sputtered on about orders of battle and numbers, but it was all unnecessary. Each man around the table understood the purpose of the Soviet offer all too well.
But in another part of Washington, the possibilities of the situation were scrutinized more carefully by ambitious politicians with eyes on reelection. There had been a great deal of logic in the Soviet offer. Instead of an eye for an eye, they were presenting a solution where it seemed neither side had to lose either an eye or even a shread of dignity. The concept also appealed to many of the more liberal members of the NATO community.
Those powerful but short-term members of Congress blissfully unaware of the extent of Soviet expansion along the Norwegian border, were impressed with the idea of cooling off an area that appeared to be bubbling over. Extensive debate followed in both the Senate and the House. White House advisors appeared caught up by the positive aspects of the debate.
Within days, the Russians provided proof of their goodwill by commencing the removal of the materiel they had admitted to. Though it would be inconclusive that time of year, they even invited satellite confirmation of their efforts. U.S. intelligence sources knew, however, that the vast majority of materiel remained hidden under camouflage.
Once the Kremlin had made their first move for the sake of goodwill, they went right ahead and set a date a few weeks hence that American naval forces should remain south of the Arctic Circle. Since American naval units generally operated in the Mediterranean or warmer waters during the winter months, there was nothing north of that line other than a few submarines conducting normal operations. The timing in the Kremlin had been superb.
A week later, poised at the same table, the CIA director turned to the senior naval officer after completing his diatribe about the extent of Soviet forces that remained poised on the Norwegian border. “We don’t have a choice, do we, Admiral?”
The admiral shook his head from side to side.
“I’ll be making my recommendation to the White House shortly. We have to test them — we have to send a ship north of the line…”
“If the Soviet Union is able to keep us out of the Arctic — turn it into their own bathtub…” The admiral was again shaking his head. “If they control Norway, that means their SSBNs are as secure as a baby in mother’s arms…”
Another admiral opened his briefcase and took out photographs that had been enlarged for release to the news media. Some were clear, some dark and grainy, but they all displayed exactly the same subject — Soviet ballistic-missile submarines. Included were the older, smaller Yankee class; the ten-thousand-ton Deltas with their longer-range missiles; and the massive, twenty-five-thousand-ton Typhoons—each more menacing than the next. The Typhoons could hit their U.S. targets without ever leaving the dock. They hid below the icecap only for their own protection. To allow the Soviet Union to control Norway and the Arctic would create a “bastion for these marauders,” as the admiral put it.
While a special ambassador was dispatched to Moscow to discuss elements of the offer with his counterparts, one of the deepest American plants in the Soviet apparatus observed discreetly as the Soviet military dismembered its prepositioned force — at least the amount that had been admitted to. The withdrawal was the beginning of a complete circle, with tanks, artillery, and supplies first being loaded on trucks or trains headed south. At a point a few hundred miles south of Murmansk, they began a wide turn, eventually heading back to the Murmansk sector.
The CIA clarified the situation to the White House, and various senior members of the military were called in for advice. At the same time, Congress was encouraged to continue their debate. It seemed wiser that the general public and the Soviet Union understand that the offer was still being considered.
Another interested party in Washington was that same deep Soviet plant in the naval communications system. There were two types of orders issued in the following weeks to the various submarine commands — those under a clearance weak enough to reveal that the submarine squadrons would revert to normal operating status, and others at the highest classification that maintained exactly the same orders as before. The Kremlin understood this implicitly. It was no different than the methods they often employed themselves. So they allowed their special ambassador to continue negotiations, blissfully unaware of military preparations. He entertained his American counterpart like visiting royalty, which provided excellent press.
But the decision seemed already to have been made on both sides.
As often as Andy Reed had been inside Imperator’s enormous pen on the Washington coast, he never ceased to stare in awe at his surroundings. The “fishbowl” was the nickname for the underground cavern, which had served as both the birthplace of this magnificent submarine and now the technical center for her shakedown.