The collecting of hostages began very early the following morning. As the intelligence reports of what was going on began to come in in increasing numbers, it became apparent that it was not an impromptu operation; people were not simply picked up off the streets or taken from their homes. A master list had been prepared and it was being put to use.
Among those taken as hostages were a certain Reverend Mr. Jones, his wife, Doris, and their son, Greg; their ministrations to Jews departing the country had been duly noted and their names had been entered as among those most suitable to be shot.
In the Oval Office of the White House Colonel Rostovitch watched the reports that were flowing across his desk and was satisfied. He had before him a list of the men who would be the executioners; each name that appeared was fully qualified for the task. He knew all of them either personally or by reputation; deliberately he deferred giving himself the pleasure of making the final choices from the list. He did not want to have too many of them; it would be better if the show could be prolonged on the nation’s television screens so that the impact would be cumulative. In simple numbers one thousand persons was a statistic; seeing that many die, six or seven at a time, would serve to impress on every viewer the absolute authority and uncompromising ruthlessness of the program. For one thing was totally clear in Gregor Rostovitch’s mind; that the side that was the harder and more unyielding always won. It had been that way when the French had been defeated, after eight years, in Indo-China. They had defeated themselves because their enemy would not yield. The Communist forces inspired by Ho Chi Minh had been inflexible, had followed the doctrine of talk, talk, fight, fight, and had eventually won the day. Every single one of the one thousand would die, publicly, and the executions would not stop unless the surrender message was received from Thomas Jefferson. And there would be an additional thousand the next day, and one thousand more the next.…
When he received word that a deeply distraught father had offered to die in place of his son, he brushed it aside. He issued a terse order that there would be no substitutes; in addition if any guard permitted a detainee to commit suicide, he would take that person’s place.
The message to him from Admiral Haymarket and the First Team reached him shortly after nine-thirty.
Rostovitch, White House, Washington, D.C.
Final warning. If all hostages not released before 5 p.m. this evening, Magsaysay will fire Poseidon multiple-warhead nuclear missile at your homeland. Estimate casualties minimum three million. Firing time nineteen hundred. If no response from you, second round will follow precisely at twenty-one hundred. If return fire received, Magsaysay will release greatest concentrated firepower in world history on irrevocable orders to destroy your nation. Your other enemies will finish up the job if anything remains. If this cannot be avoided, so be it.
Admiral Haymarket sat at the head of the table, where he had been sitting for the past several hours, getting up only to relieve himself and then returning at once. The First Team sat with him in continuous consultation, digesting the reports that came in, watching every move with total and intense concentration. Major Pappas kept his charts up to date before him and supplied data as they were required. When the message had gone off to the colonel he duly logged it and then posed a question to which he already had the answer. He double-checked everything as a matter of routine.
“Sir, you have final and absolute authority from the President?” “Affirmative,” Haymarket answered.
“Does Commander Nakamura fully understand that you are so empowered?”
“He does.”
“He will then definitely respect the order to fire.”
“He will. He is at sea for that purpose and he knows it.”
“And technically the firing requirements have all been met.”
“That is absolutely affirmative, Walt was there when it was checked out.”
“According to the Navy regs,” Wagner said, “I was not permitted to witness the actual check, but it was run and the captain told me without equivocation that he is fully prepared to fire and will do so upon receiving the orders from us.”
“That being the case,” Pappas said, still with no emotion in his voice, “I now recommend, sir, that you raise Magsaysay and pass the necessary first order to fire. If the enemy hears us, so much the better.”
“Will she acknowledge?” Higbee asked.
The admiral answered him carefully and exactly. “If for any reason she cannot follow the order, then she will so advise us at a precise interval of time after we contact her. If she can, then she will give no response. Her position shortly before firing is extremely critical information. At the moment only General Gifford and I know where she is, other than the members of her crew. Two of us have to know in case anything should happen to me.”
“Have you communicated with her?”
Once again the admiral was very careful with his words. “No, Ed, not recently. Two messages have been sent, but no replies have been received. I stress that none would have been given except in case of malfunction. We have a schedule for reporting such information. Our listening watch has been uninterrupted and she has not put out a thing.”
“Pardon me, Barney, but like Ted I want to hear everything that is vital at least twice. If we send a signal to her, will she receive it?”
“Nothing is ever absolutely certain, Ed, with the usual exceptions, but it is as close to one hundred per cent as our best technology can make it. I will say this: she knows what is going on, she positively will be listening, our signal strength can reach her where she is with absolute ease, and her reception equipment is redundant several times over with independent power sources and all supportive gear.”
“I then second Ted’s recommendation that you notify her of your intention to fire.”
The admiral looked around the table. “Gentlemen, you now know how Harry Truman felt when he faced the decision whether or not to release the bomb against Hiroshima. I want your individual votes: do we or don’t we back up our message to Rostovitch. Shall I order Magsaysay to fire?”
“Yes,” General Gifford said. “In your absence I would give that order.”
“Hank?”
“Go,” Colonel Prichard responded, “and may God help us.”
“Ted?”
“Yes, it’s down to the wire.”
“Ed?”
“Agreed, we go.”
“Stanley?”
“Is there any visible alternative?”
The admiral shook his head. “None of which I am aware.”
“I just wanted to ask to make absolutely sure. Fire.”
“Walt?”
“The issue is already decided, sir, and there’s no question about it. I know Rostovitch better than any man here. Our hides won’t satisfy him; he will keep this country in continuous terror and bloodshed for, at the least, months to come. That’s the real consideration.”
A message came in from Philadelphia. The units there volunteered to surrender themselves as the Thomas Jefferson personnel; they had enough supportive gear and communications equipment to make it look good. It would save the main operation. Acceptance was urged.
“As long as this country can produce men and women like that,” the admiral said, “I’m going to fight for them with everything that I’ve got.” He pressed a button before him and an aide came in. “Prepare a signal to Magsaysay,” he directed. “First order to fire. Do you know the details?”
“Yes, sir. Will you please personally review the message, sir, before it is sent.”
The admiral nodded. “I will. That’s required and I know it — I made the rule.”