J. T. Brannan
Stop at Nothing
PART ONE
1
When the first hazy rays of sunlight broke through the clouds shortly before noon on that fateful Christmas Eve, Stockholm was bathed in an otherworldly glow. The shafts of light, beaming down like the outstretched fingers of a supernatural being, highlighted the light snow that continued to fall gently across the myriad islands of the famed Swedish capital.
Whilst most of the city’s inhabitants were involving themselves in the traditional seasonal celebrations, at home with their families and loved ones, one of the islands was experiencing rather more than its usual public gathering. For Helgeands-Holmen, situated between the medieval district of Gamla stan and the mainland of the city, is the home of the Riksdagshuset, the seat of the Swedish government. And on this particular Christmas Eve, the imposing Parliament House, and the area immediately surrounding it, was a hive of bustling activity.
From the seemingly endless groups of news broadcasters and reporters gathered directly outside the building itself, to the throngs of armed Swedish police who had cordoned off the entire area from the mainland to the Slottskajen road, to the winter-camouflaged snipers watching intently from the snow-covered rooftops, to the patrol boats that trudged slowly through the near-freezing channels of Stockholm’s vast system of waterways, it was abundantly clear to any observer that something important — possibly world-changing — was going to happen today.
And so it was.
2
The idea had started developing long before the actual event, as is the case with all such monumental initiatives. It had first been suggested by Ellen Abrams, President of the United States of America, to the absolute shock of much of the world. The Mutual Defence Treaty was to be a defensive pact between the United States and her age-old enemy, the Russian Federation. Such a treaty would have been unthinkable even just a few short years before, but President Abrams had changed everything.
Ellen Abrams was not only the first woman to be elected President of the world’s only remaining superpower, she was a woman with a singular vision; a vision of how the world should be. And Ellen Abrams thought that the world should be at peace, not at war.
As a senator she had campaigned tirelessly for the troops to be pulled out of Iraq and Afghanistan, and one of her first actions upon taking office as President was to cancel the plans being drawn up to invade Iran.
Instead of invasions and projections of military force, Abrams believed in diplomacy and partnership development, with countries being brought into line with the American democratic ideal through subtle influence rather than direct coercion. It wasn’t that she was anti-military; on the contrary, as part of the United States Army Reserve, she had herself been stationed in Iraq, and knew only too well the horrors of war.
It was her own direct experience, in fact, that many felt shaped her policy on international affairs. She had seen how the huge might of the US military, wielded bluntly, often caused too much collateral damage and subsequently created a whole new generation of terrorists.
Her stance on such issues made her wildly popular in some areas, and widely hated in others, but after two years into her first term, it seemed to be working. Terrorism was a decreasing trend, countries were turning to democracy — with the added lure of capitalism, of course — of their own accord, and America’s reputation abroad was improving daily.
The Mutual Defence Treaty was another step towards ensuring some level of global security. All too often at meetings of the UN Security Council, US suggestions would be blocked by Russian or Chinese veto. This was just an example of some of the problems faced by the United States when operating with the major players around the globe, but it was one that Abrams hoped she could fix.
Vasilev Danko was the President of the Russian Federation, and an infamous traditional hardliner, graduating from the higher echelons of the FSB, the modern incarnation of the feared KGB. Danko was also a realist, however, and the proposals made by Abrams were too good to refuse.
After the financial crash of 2008, America had gradually rebuilt her economy, until under Abrams it was in the best shape of its life. Russia, meanwhile, had not been so lucky; an explosion at her largest oil refinery had put her progress back several years, and she was again struggling to make ends meet.
The Mutual Defence Treaty was as much a trade deal as anything else — the US promised Russia various economic concessions in return for Danko’s support of US policy abroad. It brought Russia closer into the top players of the global trade community, and also ensured that decades of mistrust and unnecessary defensive outlays would end.
It was thought at one time that Russia would join NATO, but Danko drew the line at this, unwilling to make his country a member of the opposing group to the old Warsaw Pact. The MDT was a good half measure though, and showed the world Russia’s willingness to shed her old ways and become a more modern nation.
It was true, however, that not all the world wanted to see this happen.
3
‘We’re just minutes away now, ma’am,’ announced the driver of the black Mercedes limousine that swept along the deserted E4 expressway. The main conduit between Arlanda Flygplats, the main airport thirty miles to the north of Stockholm, and the city centre, the expressway was usually busy, like most roads serving a capital city. Today it had been entirely cleared of traffic however, secured by the Swedish police solely for the safe passage of the numerous heads of state who were due to attend the treaty signing.
‘Thank you, James,’ came back the velvet smooth voice of President Abrams from the rear compartment. She looked poised and elegant as always; some people thought she looked like that asleep in bed. It was true that she was never off-duty; you simply didn’t become the first female President of the United States of America without an iron will in all areas, a fierce determination, a striving for perfection in all aspects of life, and physical appearance was no different. As America’s leader, people looked to her for guidance and inspiration, and she felt it was her duty to give it to them at all times.
She looked over at the man next to her and smiled. ‘Cheer up, Clyde,’ she said. ‘I know you spent your early years thinking of how to beat ’em, but you’ve got to admit, it’s better this way.’
Clyde Rutherford was her Secretary of Defence, the member of her administration most closely involved with the technicalities of the treaty. He had been in the US Navy for the early part of his career, a sub driver who had trained to get his vehicle as close to the Soviet coast as possible, to launch his missile payload straight onto Moscow if war was ever declared.
Rutherford smiled back at her. She truly was an exceptional woman, that much he was sure about. She had a vision, and she pursued it relentlessly and in that, they were both very much the same. ‘Well, seeing as I’m the front man for it, looks like I’ll have to admit it, doesn’t it?’ he replied jokingly.
‘It’s the right thing to do, Clyde,’ Abrams continued. ‘Believe it.’
‘Oh, I believe all right,’ Rutherford responded. Just not necessarily in the same thing as you, he added silently, smiling as he thought of what lay ahead.
4
Although there was a cordon on the waterways immediately surrounding Helgeands-Holmen and Gamla stan, at a radius of six kilometres beyond the Riksdagshuset there was no visible security presence.