“How long will it take you to bring us one of your men who speaks Russian?”
“Right now, actually. I have a team working right outside this room and there is a fellow there who speaks fluent Russian. He was born here to a family who emigrated from the Soviet Union.”
The President took up the phone receiver and handed it to the CIA director.
“Tell them to get this guy here at once. By the way, Secretary Perry, your TV idea isn’t bad, but I want to take it even further.”
Two minutes later, a tall Russian-looking young man stood at the door. He had a round face and fair skin and his hair was cut short. He seemed extremely nervous to be standing face-to-face with the President of the United States.
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Vitaly Khripkin, Mister President.” “Come here, Vitaly. Sit next to me.”
The young CIA agent almost stumbled as we walked toward the President and took a seat beside him. The President put a fatherly arm on Vitaly’s shoulder as he spoke to CIA director.
“Say, are you sure he’s one of us? He looks like a classic KGB agent.”
Khripkin moved uneasily in his chair, the President’s arm still on his shoulder.
“I’m only kidding, son. Now listen up. I am about to make a phone call to the Soviet leader Yermolov. He doesn’t speak English, and someone will have to translate what I’m saying. There’s quite a bit of mayhem in the Kremlin right now. I don’t know if whoever is translating for him has his own agenda, if he is loyal to Yermolov or maybe to his Minister of Defense. He may falsify my words. I would like you, Vitaly, to listen to the conversation on the extension and signal to me if everything is translated as should be. Do you understand me, son?
“Yes, Mister President, of course.”
The President lifted the receiver of the telephone next to him.
“This is the President speaking. Please connect me to Moscow. I would like to speak to the General Secretary of the Party. This is extremely urgent.”
The President, whose mood had started to improve in the past few minutes, now revealed his sense of humor, which was very much a defining trait in normal times. Holding the receiver to his ear, he spoke to his team around the table.
“You see, there are also advantages in the Soviet Union. I told the operator to get me the General Secretary of the Party in Moscow, and she did not have to ask me of which party.”
Several nervous laughs sounded around the room. The President raised his hand and there was silence.
“Mister President Butler. This is Svetlana, personal secretary to Party General Secretary Sir Vladimir Petrovich Yermolov. The Party General Secretary will enter the room very soon, and I will act as your simultaneous translator from English to Russian and from Russian to English. So there is no need, Mister President, to take pauses as you speak.”
“Very well, Ma’am. Thank you.”
The President continued to hold the line for his Soviet counterpart. He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and whispered to the CIA director.
“Listen, she works in a strategic place and also has wonderful English. Why don’t you guys recruit her? Do I need to give you ideas?”
The American spy chief smiled reservedly.
“Only a few hours ago I did offer you, Mister President, a job at our agency as your post-Presidential career.”
Svetlana came back on the line, and the President motioned Vitaly to pick up the extension.
“Here you are, Sir, President Butler.”
“Dobriy vecher, Mr. General Secretary Yermolov”, President Butler greeted his Soviet counterpart with a “good evening” in Russian. “I would have liked to speak to you under much happier circumstances, but it seems that there is someone on your side who prefers that we speak with our rifles.”
President Butler heard Svetlana translating his words and took a look at Vitaly at his side, who nodded to him in confirmation that his words were being correctly translated. Now the Party General Secretary’s voice was heard in the background, with Svetlana translating his words.
“The Party Secretary asks if this is the best opening you could find for your mutual conversation?”
“I am sorry then, Mister Secretary. I know you are an honorable man, and if you’ll please just listen to me for three minutes, I’m sure that we will succeed together in preventing a third World War.”
“The Party Secretary is listening to you, Mister President.”
“Mister Secretary, we did not launch any missile in the North Sea and we have nothing to do with the nuclear blast. Your trawler was sunk by your own submarine. What your people do not know yet is that one person aboard the trawler survived, and his name is Colonel Nazarbayev. He told us about a secret team that was put together by your Minister of Defense, Marshal Budarenko. I can give you all the details of the Intelligence base in Moscow, where this Colonel and five other senior officers worked in isolation and in secrecy for the Minister of Defense. I can tell you how many times your Minister of Defense has visited this team in the past ten days. This Colonel Nazarbayev is the person who fired a nuclear artillery shell from a gun which they loaded onto the trawler at the Naval Base in Murmansk. Their mission was to create the explosion close to one of our nuclear submarines in order to simulate a much larger nuclear attack on the United States. All this just so the submarine commander would reach the mistaken conclusion that our mainland had been attacked, causing our submarine to launch a nuclear missile in response at the Soviet Union.
“Mister Secretary Yermolov. Can you see that your Minister is ready to sacrifice millions of your civilians just so he can have his excuse to flood Western Europe with thirty thousand of your tanks? Mister Secretary, allow me to voice my opinion of this man. I think he is insane and very dangerous. If you don’t stop him, we will be in a state of total war by morning. Does Mister Secretary know that I’ve issued an order to destroy your tanks with tactical nuclear weapons if they cross the Elbe River? Is Mister Secretary aware of this, or maybe this too was concealed from you by your Minister of…?”
The President paused at a gesture from Vitaly, who put his hand over his receiver and whispered to the President:
“Something is not right with her.”
“What do you mean?” the President asked.
“Sir, she is translating everything verbatim, but something in her voice has changed. I think she’s choking, or maybe she’s crying. It’s not clear.” Svetlana’s voice was heard again.
“Please hold, Mister President.”
Vitaly made a huge effort to get something of the conversation on the other end, which sounded too weak and far away to make out. He raised the volume on his phone and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the conversation as much as possible. The President followed him with great interest, as did everyone else in the room.
“Mister President, this is unbelievable. She is crying and the Party Secretary is telling her that he’s sorry that she had to hear all this from the President of the United States and not from him. I couldn’t hear everything, but I heard the Secretary say something like it’s your uncle, if am not mistaken.” Svetlana’s voice was heard again.
“Mister President Butler. The party Secretary Mister Vladimir Petrovich Yermolov thanks you for calling him. He says that he is willing to stop all our forces where they are at 10 o’clock Greenwich Mean Time tonight. At the same time exactly, you shall cancel the supreme alert to all your forces, on land, sea and air.”
The President extended his hand forward and made the thumbs up signal to his Secretary of Defense, who responded with a nod of his head.