“You might like his daughter,” Riggs said, “but the president is deluded and the American people are naive. We have the upper hand on the Russians, the Chinese, and everyone else who has a nuke. Why level the playing field with this treaty? It flies in the face of our national strategy and interest. We’ve been sucking hind-tit for decades on this, when we’re the lead fucking horse.”
“SAD greatly reduces the risk of nuclear accident,” Brennan said, “and of terrorists getting their hands on one. Plus, we can’t keep telling other countries not to develop nuclear weapons when we have more than the rest of the world combined. And we’re the only country that’s ever actually used them.”
“That’s exactly why we can tell them not to develop them,” Riggs said. “I’ve been a soldier for a long time, Brennan. Let me tell you something. If I were a Russian general, I would have a gun to my president’s head, telling him to get us to sign the treaty even as we continued to build our own arsenal while the Americans reduced theirs.”
“That’s a bit paranoid, General.” For a moment, Brennan was afraid he’d crossed a line, but Riggs, surprisingly, laughed.
“You aren’t paranoid if they are indeed out to get you, son. And believe me, those Russian and Chinese bastards are out to get us. That Upton might be a pompous shit with his little show with the needle, but Cherry Tree is special. I can feel it in my bones.
“We have a way to strip away our enemies’ bodyguard of lies. Are we just going to use it on pieces of dirt like that man in the chair and get information that’s six years out of date? Or are we really going to use it? We’ve sat on our nukes for over sixty years and what good has it done us? We could have taken out Russia early in the Cold War with minimal casualties. LeMay knew the numbers. He begged presidents to act and they all ignored him. None of the rest — Vietnam, the Gulf, Afghanistan — would have happened if we’d done what he wanted.”
Brennan frowned at the leap of illogic into the cesspool of paranoia, but knew the ice after his brief rebuttal was too thin to challenge the general anymore. “Sir, even if the treaty gets signed, it will take years to implement.”
“We don’t have years,” Riggs said with surprising anger. “I swore an oath to defend this country with my life and by God”—his fist slammed into the leather seat—“I am going to do just that. Your father understood. He worked with LeMay on Pinnacle. Time is running out on that and time is running out for me.”
“Time is running out on Pinnacle,” Brennan said. “The missile in Nebraska was a close call. We were lucky Masterson’s Nightstalkers were on top of it.”
“Bullshit,” Riggs said. “The damn thing was a dud. No maintenance on it in decades. What the hell is to be expected?”
“We’re maintaining the stockpile as best we can. Outlier weapons…” Brennan shrugged. “We don’t even know where some of those are. We didn’t know about this one in Nebraska. That got lost somewhere along the line because of the secrecy.”
“The problem,” Riggs said, “is Masterson’s people are trying to get on top of Pinnacle now. Some idiot left the name in the LCC there.”
“It’s inevitable that word will get out about it,” Brennan said. “It’s a program that’s outlived its usefulness. Masterson has tried to penetrate Pinnacle before and failed. But our luck won’t hold. Maybe we should just abandon it.”
“Pinnacle is a program we need now more than ever, with the treaty coming up. Nebraska was an oversight.” Riggs shifted his bulk on the seat. “There’s something the president is leaving out of all of this and the public doesn’t know. The Rifts. We don’t know what the hell is on the other side of those things. Everyone is so focused on the Russians and the Chinese and Iran, the few who are in the know are forgetting about that. In the beginning, we formed Pinnacle inside the military to prepare for that threat.”
“But LeMay co-opted that,” Brennan pointed out.
“LeMay was a hero!” Riggs snapped. Just as quickly, like a summer thunderstorm passing, Riggs smiled, showing shiny white teeth above his square jaw. “Go join your fiancée, Brennan. Give her my best.”
“Sir, I can’t help you if you don’t fill me in on what’s really going on.”
Riggs fixed Brennan with his Beacon Hill stare. “The Russians aren’t the real threat. Don’t get me wrong, I know the treaty has to be derailed and we can use Cherry Tree for that. But when I saw the DORKA blurb about Cherry Tree in the daily intel summary last week, I knew there was potential.”
Brennan’s eyes widened. “You made them do that demonstration.”
Riggs nodded. “Squeezed the balls on the idiot who runs DORKA. You should see the file my people have on him.”
“But why?” Brennan knew the answer. “The treaty.”
“Yes.” He leaned forward. “There are people other than the Russians I need to get the truth out of. We’re in the eye of the storm, Brennan. People are asking questions about Pinnacle. We can’t have that made public. And at the same time, we can’t lose it. The best way to fight having a secret revealed is to learn other people’s secrets.” He laughed. “Mutually assured destruction by truth.
“Pinnacle and the treaty are tied together. And we can’t lose the first and have the second. Too many good men over too many years put everything on the line to defend this country and keep it safe. Not just our country, but our world, from whatever is on the other side of those Rifts. I’m not going to see that undone. Do you understand?”
Brennan knew when to retreat. “Yes, sir.”
“Good, good.” Riggs smiled. “Give your fiancée a kiss for me. Go now.”
Brennan blinked at the abrupt about-face. “Yes, sir.” He fumbled for the door and opened it. As soon as he was out, the armored limo was pulling away, the door slamming shut with a solid thud.
Brennan paused outside the restaurant and took a couple of deep breaths. He was getting sick and tired of the general. In fact, he was getting sick and tired of a lot of things he had to put up with. He opened the door and entered the pub. Debbie liked to eat at what she called “common folk” places, although he knew her true motivation was to stick out like a sore middle finger and get the admiring glances and muted whispers of admiration that she had graced the common folk with her presence.
Brennan frowned, surprised at the thought, because it had never occurred to him before. They’d always eaten at places like this, ever since first dating sophomore year in high school. Brennan spotted the Secret Service agents before he spotted Debbie and, already simmering over Riggs’s diatribe and off-kilter by his own thoughts, his attitude took another sharp turn in the wrong direction.
Debbie was staring at her phone, oblivious to the world around her. She had the agents to take care of that for her, Brennan thought as he sat down across from her. She didn’t look up for four seconds.
He knew because he counted, just like when they used to play touch football as a kid after the ball was “hiked” and before you could rush the passer — one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four Miss — Well, okay, just under four seconds, but that was three too long.
“Hey,” she said with less enthusiasm than Brennan desired. “You’re late.”
“I was with the general.”
Debbie rolled her eyes, which he really hated. “How is the old Lightning Bolt?”
“We just had a most interesting experience, very positive,” Brennan said, forcing some cheer into his voice. “Let’s order champagne to celebrate.”