“Exactly”, replied Gregory, who was showing the first signs of recovery. “But tell me, how can we benefit from such a catastrophe?”
Colonel Yevgeni conferred briefly with his mate Brigadier General
Dimitri, then turned back to the team members, eying Gregory directly.
“In my opinion, we have only one option. We will propose to the Minister that the Soviet Union announce in all mass communication media that we managed to shoot down a cruise missile tipped with a nuclear warhead that was launched by an American bomber over the North Sea. We will say that the missile was on its way to destroy the city and the naval base of Murmansk, and it was only by sheer coincidence that we managed to shoot it down, causing it to explode in the sea.”
Gregory stared at Yevgeni, perplexed.
“What’s this coincidence that you’re talking about?”
“I mean that it should be understood that it was only by a miracle that we managed to save the lives of hundreds of thousands of our citizens. For example, because on that day, our jet fighters were training in the area and they happened to detect the cruise missile and destroy it.”
It was Brigadier General Dimitri’s turn to speak.
“It’s all very well, this idea of a supposed coincidence, but not with airplanes. A cruise missile flies very low and it is difficult to intercept from the air because of the airplane radar’s technical limitations. I suggest we change our version and say that one of our battleships detected the missile as it was approaching, and its gunners shot the missile down. By the way, such missiles fly relatively slowly and at low altitude, so it would be possible to down them even with anti-aircraft cannons. Of course, in this explosion, our battleship was also destroyed, and this will be a good opportunity to praise our hero brethren who sacrificed their lives to save several hundred thousand fellow citizens.”
“All right, that makes sense”, replied Colonel Yevgeni. “Gregory, this is what you should propose to the Minister. I think he will probably adopt this story, especially since right now, we do not have any better alternative to propose.”
Gregory rose quickly from his chair and raced from the room. Dimitri turned to Colonel Yevgeni. He wore a serious expression and could not hide his concern.
“This time, my good friend, I’m not so sure that even your good ideas can save our heads.”
The minister of defense, Marshal Budarenko, stormed into the office suite of the Party’s General Secretary. To Svetlana’s astonishment, the Minister continued, without stopping, directly into the General Secretary’s inner office. Svetlana chased after him, trying to prevent him from entering Secretary Yermolov’s room unannounced, but the Minister ignored her pleas and stormed straight into the Secretary’s office. Even before Secretary Yermolov could say a word, the Marshal began his speech, remaining on his feet, waving his arms and spouting rebuke.
“Am I mobilizing masses of tanks behind your back? I want to reach the Atlantic coast with my tanks? Now you understand that the Yankee Ambassador, that you like so much, came to pull the wool over your eyes. He came here to lull you. If it weren’t for our hero sons on the battleship that, just by chance happened to be in that area, we could now have three hundred thousand burned corpses in Murmansk. We are at war; get this in to your head already. The Yanks are no longer threatening us with war because they have already started it.”
The Party General Secretary, the Head of State of the Union of Soviet States, who, just several minutes before, had received word of the nuclear blast in the North Sea, remained silent in his seat. The Minister of Defense took that opportunity to sink his claws deeper into the flesh of the Secretary, who now seemed hesitant and confused.
“You must now come out and address the nation. Our soldiers need to know that they are about to defend the motherland, after we were attacked by the Americans.”
The Secretary was trying with all his might to regain his composure in the face of Marshal Budarenko’s harsh words and his zeal to exact revenge on the Americans immediately, blow for blow.
“Not one soldier will make any move at the moment to defend the nation on Western European soil”, the Secretary said at last. “We will convene, within the hour, an urgent emergency meeting of the senior leadership, and reach decisions. Meanwhile, I will prepare the official announcement to the nation of the attempted attack.”
The Secretary’s words did not satisfy the Minister’s desire for immediate action. He decided to try again.
“Mister Secretary, be specific. This is not an attempted attack but an actual attack. The Americans should not even think that we are hesitating or that we are not determined. Give me the order now to enter the Federal Republic of Germany. Time is not in our favor.”
“No order yet”, the Secretary replied resolutely, having gained his composure. “I said we’ll meet in one hour and make decisions. This meeting is over.”
When the Minister left the General Secretary’s office, Svetlana hurried into the room. She began apologizing breathlessly for not being able to stop the minister’s trajectory into the Secretary’s room.
“It’s all right”, the General Secretary replied, with a bitter smile. “It’s not only you. Even I can’t stop him.”
Chapter 13
A pall of imminent war hung in the air of the Situation Room at the White House in Washington D.C. The high rate and the fast pace of Red Army troop concentrations on the threshold of West Germany had already been interpreted by all intelligence agencies as preparation for an upcoming invasion of West Germany and even beyond.
Seated in the Situation Room were the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Gorge Abramson; the Chief of Naval Operations, General Tim Ewing; the Chief of Staff of the United States Air Force, General James Cannon; and George Brown, director of the CIA. The door opened and the President of the United States, James Butler, walked into the room, followed by Secretary of Defense Philip Manning. All those present in the room rose to their feet as a mark of respect for the President. The President took his seat at the head of the conference table, swiftly greeted the attendants, and instructed them to take their seats.
James Butler had been President for the past three years. He was the first President in two decades who had not been directly involved in the Vietnam War, which had been traumatic for the American people and for its Presidents. A native of Texas, aged 54 when elected, he was a straight talker, often criticized for his rough, undiplomatic language. At six foot four, the Secret Service agents protecting him had a challenging job. Those selected to serve as his personal guard had to be at least as tall as he was, which gave the group the look of an NBA basketball team on the move. President Butler was a fastidious man who took great care with his appearance at all times. His thick mane was always combed to the right, and he never missed his daily session at the gym.
His term had been relative quiet, both domestically and internationally. On the foreign relations front, his term was free of any notable conflicts. At home, the economy was doing better than average, earning him great public approval. He was married to First Lady Rachel and had two teenage children, a son and a daughter, who lived at the White House with them.