It’s as simple as that.”
“But what about Norway?” quizzed the Deputy General Secretary.
“Don’t the Norwegians already have such a pipeline in operation?”
His ardor abruptly cooled by this remark, Pyotr Glebov answered softly.
“As a matter of fact, they do.
The Norwegians have one such pipeline feeding North Sea oil directly into Emden, in the Netherlands. Another line will terminate in Zeebrugge, Belgium.”
“What about Norway’s available reserves?” asked the Defense Minister.
“Unlike our other competitors, Norway can continue its oil production at today’s rate for more than a hundred years,” answered Glebov gloomily.
Viktor Rykov sat forward.
“Then it appears that the bottom line is this, comrades. Can the USSR. successfully compete against such an experienced producer as Norway, to get Europe’s business?”
“We can always undercut the Norwegians when it comes to price,” offered the Energy Minister.
“In the long run, we’ll more than make up this deficit with our sales volume.”
“I can tell you right now that the Premier is not about to approve such a massive project if its success hinges on a price war,” retorted Viktor Rykov.
“That philosophy crippled OPEC, and we don’t want any part of such a thing.”
Disappointed with the firmness of this reply, Pyotr Glebov sat back sheepishly in his chair, eyes downcast.
Across from him, his contemporary in the Defense Ministry offered his own thoughts on the matter.
“If a price war can’t be relied upon to stop the flow of Norwegian oil, why not try a more… dramatic. approach? In fact, I know the ideal plan, one designed to be implemented in the event that military hostilities break out between us and NATO. Since the continued flow of Norwegian oil to the West would be essential during such a conflict, an operational plan exists in which elements of our special forces would strategically place a nuclear device in Norway’s North Sea oil fields. This device then only needs to be detonated to shut down Norwegian production for centuries to come.”
This novel suggestion was met by an ominous silence, and to further support his idea Kamenev quickly added.
“For our purposes all this could be achieved without anyone having to know that the USSR. was responsible for the blast. The area is a notorious hotbed for submarine operations. NATO is continually active there, and who’s to say that one of their nuclear warships wasn’t responsible for such a tragedy?”
Most pleased with the direction the meeting was now going, Viktor Rykov slyly turned to meet the gaze of the white-haired veteran seated directly opposite him.
“Perhaps Admiral Kuznetsov would care to share his ideas with us. If I’m not mistaken, weren’t you just involved with a white paper that concerned just such a matter?”
Surprised that the bureaucrat had knowledge of this recently concluded, top-secret study, Alexander nodded.
“Yes I was, Comrade. The report was undertaken as a result of a war game that involved the Northern Fleet. During this simulated battle, that had yet to escalate to nuclear weapons, it became essential for the Soviet Union to immediately halt the flow of Norwegian oil. The scenario that the Defense Minister mentioned was proposed, but because it involved a nuclear detonation it was deemed too risky. I was charged with the job of finding an alternative, less conspicuous way to take the oil fields.”
“And just what did you propose?” quizzed Rykov.
Conscious now of the reason he was invited here, Alexander answered.
“Since eliminating the oil fields themselves was out of the question, I recommended doing the next best thing.”
Reaching out for the map of Europe that lay on the table before him, Alexander pointed to the southwestern coast of Norway between the cities of Bergen and Stavanger.
“All of Norway’s North Sea oil is piped directly to a single refinery and pumping station, here at Karsto. Therefore, I suggested a simple act of sabotage, aimed at knocking out this facility. This operation could be carried out with conventional explosives by as few as three commandoes, who could be landed by submarine. They could be in and out of there before anyone was the wiser.”
“Do you mean to say that only three men and a load of conventional explosives could stop the entire flow of Norwegian oil into Europe?” questioned the Deputy General Secretary.
“I don’t see why not,” replied Alexander.
“It wouldn’t take much to destroy the pumping facilities, and the Norwegians are notoriously lax when it comes to security matters.”
“Why that’s amazing!” reflected Rykov.
“What do you think of the operation’s chances of success, Comrade Kamenev?”
Irritated that he had never been given a copy of Kuznetsov’s white paper to read, and not liking the idea of being showed up by a mere vice-admiral, Vladimir Kamenev sighed.
“I feel that it would be a great mistake to be deceived into thinking that such an operation would be as easy to pull off as Vice Admiral Kuznetsov makes it sound. The landing of special forces on foreign soil can never be taken for granted.
This is especially true when it comes to Norway. Its irregular shores are riddled with tiny islands and twisting fjords. Since much of these waters remain uncharted by us, merely navigating a submarine there would be a challenge.”
“What do you say to this, Admiral Kuznetsov?” asked Rykov. All eyes turned to the Navy veteran.
Not wanting to provoke the Defense Minister, Alexander deliberately softened his response.
“Comrade Kamenev has made an excellent point. Of course, my entire scenario was based on pure supposition. If such an operation were to become a reality, a thorough reconnaissance of the Karsto region would have to be initiated.”
“Then by all means get us this information. Admiral,” Viktor Rykov replied without hesitation.
“It sounds to me like the entire idea of a trans-Siberian pipeline transferring gas products directly into Europe hinges on our ability to disrupt our competitor’s flow of oil, if needed. Thus, if I hear no objections, I will officially adjourn this meeting with the stipulation that we reconvene as soon as Admiral Kuznetsov has completed his task.”
Thrilled that the idea of an extended pipeline was still being considered, Energy Minister Pyotr Glebov eagerly nodded in agreement with Rykov. Having no real objections of his own, Vladimir Kamenev also concurred. This left Alexander Kuznetsov with the sole responsibility for organizing a clandestine reconnaissance mission deep into enemy territory, through some of the most hazardous waters on the entire planet.
Chapter Four
It was a typical cold, overcast fall morning in Dunoon, Scotland, as Captain Steven Aldridge, his wife Susan, and six-year-old daughter Sarah strolled through the town’s central shopping district. The narrow sidewalks were filled with dozens of other pedestrians, most of whom were bundled up in thick woolen sweaters and carried several parcels each.
Unlike America, travelling by foot was still practical in a small town such as Dunoon, and the Aldridge family fit in as if they were locals.
“Oh look, Daddy. There’s a pastry shop. Can we go in and get some cookies?”
Sarah Aldridge followed up this request by catching her father’s glance and flashing him her warmest smile. This tactic never failed to do the trick, yet just as her dad was about to agree, her mother intervened.
“There will be no more cookies for you, Sarah Aldridge, until you’ve had your lunch. Why, you’ve already eaten two pastries this morning, and you put away a breakfast earlier that could have fed a horse.”
“Oh Mom, you’re no fun,” said Sarah with a pout.