“Place a call to General Anton Brezhnev, please. Thank you.”
He laid the phone back in its cradle, leaving his hand on it for a moment. This wasn’t his choice. This wasn’t his decision. No one could put the burden on his shoulders if something went awry. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Troops were moving, and it wasn’t his doing. He kept repeating that to himself. It wasn’t his doing. The phone rang back two minutes later and President Novichkov’s plan was relayed. As he hung up, his cell phone vibrated in his suit coat pocket. He looked at the number with disdain.
“Yes?”
“Hello Andrey,” the voice said. It was the same. Always the same. “Welcome back to your homeland. I trust you had a good time in America.”
“What do you want?”
“You have been away, much too long.”
“I cannot control that.”
“We have a request.”
“Your last request resulted in an international incident.” Andrey began to raise his voice. The situation was becoming more difficult to deal with. The stress could give him a heart attack; at least it felt that way. Each time his cell phone rang, he could feel his blood pressure rise.
“I cannot be held responsible for the actions of a reckless American pilot.” The voice went silent for a moment. “Have you checked on your family today? No? Do not be concerned. They are well. So far, you have done what we’ve asked.”
“What more do you want?”
“Not much more.”
“If I am suspected in any of this, it will go badly for me, and who will you use then? Who? You have no one else.”
“Most assuredly, we have an alternative. It would be just so much more, well. This is so much more appealing.”
“What do you want?”
The E-3 Sentry continued its track at the top of the world. One had remained airborne since the original incident over the Alaskan coast. It was a drain on the 3rd Wing as only two were currently stationed in Alaska. Keeping one airborne along with two F-22 escorts and a tanker to keep the fighters aloft was beginning to become taxing on the crews. General Nathan Dulles had requested a third, but it had yet to arrive. AWACS could look down over the top of the world. Radar stations in Alaska and Canada were subject to the curvature of the earth. They could not see over it, and the satellite in geosynchronous orbit was older, and failing. It was unreliable. It should have been replaced ten years ago.
“We need another one, Al. I’ve got maintenance crews going over every inch of the one on the ground, but it needs done properly. Two E-3s just aren’t enough if you want one up at all times.”
“I know, Nate. I’ve got one coming up from the coast. It’ll be there in a day.”
“It can’t come fast enough.” General Nathan Dulles slumped into his chair, slamming his cigar out in the ashtray. “And the crews too, Al. They need to stand down.”
“It’s coming, Nate. Anything else on the table?”
“Nothing so far. It’s been quiet up here. Almost too quiet.”
“Thanks. Keep me posted. You’ll have the E-3 in a day.”
General Dulles thumbed the off button and plopped the receiver back down into its base. He picked up the cigar stub and shoved it in his mouth. He was tired too. He looked up as an airman knocked on his door.
“Sir, Lookdown shows a huge sortie coming over the pole.”
“How many?”
“We don’t have an exact count yet sir, but it’s more than just a few.”
Dulles picked up the phone again and punched two numbers.
“This is Diamond Command. Launch both interceptor flights. Put them on the E-3 on the pole.” Dulles listened for a second before exploding. “I don’t give a damn if they just got back. Put ’em back up again!” Dulles tossed the phone back onto his desk. He hated cordless phones. You couldn’t slam them down onto a receiver. He was out of his chair and blew past the airman still standing there, storming into the command center within minutes.
“What the hell is going on now?” Dulles nearly screamed.
“Large sortie coming over the pole. E-3 is sending back its intel, plus what we can see.” The airman remembered his rebuke from earlier and dropped the ‘sir’.
“Airman, how come every time I come in here there’s bad news when you’re around?”
“Sorry General.”
Dulles walked up behind him and rested his hand on the airman’s shoulder.
“Thanks for the new chair, General.”
“You’re welcome,” Dulles said as he looked over the array of screens. “Let’s see what’s going on here.”
“This is what the Sentry sees right now, General.” The airman pointed to the screen on his left. “This is what we see.”
“When will they sync?”
“They might not, at least with the Sentry that far away.”
“He’s got two escorts?”
“F-22’s,” the airman said as he nodded.
“Pull them back. They can’t be the only thing in the way.” Dulles looked at the blips moving north on the other screen. “We need them up there but not too close. He’s our best eye on things. How long before they get there?”
“Less than twenty.”
“Damn.” Dulles turned, pushing himself off the airman’s chair. “Too long.”
“How close are they?”
“Close, for coming over the pole, General. They usually don’t get that far in unless they’re coming from the west.”
“That’s because it’s too far. It eats up fuel.”
“Couldn’t they just refuel, General?”
“Son,” Dulles said as he turned back to the display, “what you need to remember up here at the top of the world is, cold makes everything more difficult. Everything breaks faster. Nothing works like it’s supposed to.”
“Then why send them over the pole in the first place?”
“Just to show us they can.” Dulles crossed his arms and waited. It was all he could do. The room was so quiet he could hear the quartz movement of his watch. “Let’s get busy people.” Dulles turned, announcing his displeasure. Everyone was just standing around doing the same thing he was; waiting.
“Can they see what’s coming at them?”
“Likely not yet, General, unless they have an AWACs of their own.”
“Do we know that?”
“Not as yet, sir.” The airman held his breath at the slip of the tongue. “They’re almost within range.”
“Can you tie me into them from here?”
“Go General,” the airman said as he toggled the correct switches.
“Flight Leader, this is Diamond Command.”
“Roger Diamond Command. This is Flight Leader.”
“You are not authorized to shoot without my direct order. Do you understand?”
“Roger Diamond Command. Weapons are not free.”
“Damn, what happens if they start shooting?”
“Can the chatter. We’ve got work to do.” Colonel Mike Jarrod scanned his screen. The E-3 was within distance to take tactical command. “Lookdown this it Diamond Crush. Turning over tactical to you.”
“Roger Diamond Crush.”
“Keep the formations tight. We go where we’re told now,” Jarrod announced.
Diamond Crush had Lookdown in visual range. The flights streaked by on either side as the F-22 escorts pulled back with the Sentry. They were on the last hour of their patrol when the Russian sortie came over the top. They were ready to come home. The extended stay was taxing their fuel stores. They’d have to meet up with a tanker before heading home.
“Diamond Command, this is Lookdown. If we have to stay here much longer we’re going to need some gas. The tanker’s already gone.”
General Dulles turned and located the command duty officer. His order was short and to the point.