It was an elegant trap Narmonov was in. The irony of it might have evoked a tight, bitter smile, but instead the Soviet President set down his tea, for his stomach would take no more hot, bitter liquid. He could not afford to show weakness either, could he? That would only encourage Fowler to yet more irrationality. Part of Andrey Il'ych Narmonov asked if what he thought of Jonathan Robert Fowler might also apply to himself… But he had no reply. To do nothing would display weakness, wouldn't it?
“No answer?” Fowler asked the chief yeoman.
“No, sir, nothing yet.” Orontia's eyes were locked on the computer screen.
“My God,” the President muttered. “All those people dead.”
And I could have been one of them, Liz Elliot thought, the idea coming back to her like waves on a beach, crashing in, ebbing away only to crash back again. Someone wanted to kill us, and I am part of that “us”. And we don't know who or why…
“We can't let this go any farther.”
We don't even know what we are trying to stop. Who is doing this? Why are they doing it? Liz looked over at the clock and calculated the time to the arrival of the Kneecap aircraft. We should have gone out on the first one. Why didn't we think to have it fly to Hagerstown to pick us up! We're stuck here in a perfect target, and if they want to kill us, this time, they'll get us, won't they?
“How can we stop it?” Liz asked. “He's not even answering us.”
Sea Devil One-Three, a P-3C Orion anti-submarine aircraft out of Kodiak Naval Air Station, was buffeting through the winds at low altitude, about five hundred feet. It laid the first line of ten DIFAR sonobuoys ten miles southwest of Maine 's position. In the back, the sonar operators were strapped tightly into their high-backed seats, most with a vomit bag close by as they tried to make sense of their displays. It took several minutes for things to firm up.
“Christ, that's my boat,” Jim Rosselli said. He dialed Bangor and asked for Commodore Mancuso.
“Bart, what gives?”
“ Maine reported a collision, shaft and screw damage. There's a P-3 riding shotgun on her right now, and we have Omaha heading towards her flat-out. That's the good news. The bad news is that Maine was tracking an Akula at the time.”
“She was what!”
“Harry sold me and OP-02 on the idea, Jim. Too late to worry about it now. It should be okay. The Akula was way off. You heard what Harry did to Omaha last year, right?”
“Yeah, I thought he stripped a gear.”
“Look, it should be okay. I'm surging my boats right now, Jim. Unless you need me for something else, I'm kinda busy.”
“Right.” Rosselli hung up.
“What gives?” Rocky Barnes asked.
Rosselli handed over the message. “My old sub, disabled in the Gulf of Alaska, and there's a Russian prowling around.”
“Hey, they're quiet, right? You told me that. The Russians don't even know where they are.”
“Yeah.”
“Cheer up, Jim. I probably knew some of those F-16 drivers who got snuffed over Berlin.”
“Where the hell is Wilkes? He should have been here by now,” Rosselli said. “He's got a good car.”
“No tellin”, man. What the fuck is going on?"
“I don't know, Rocky.”
“We've got a long one coming in,” Chief Orontia said. “Here it comes.”
PRESIDENT FOWLER:
WE HAVE NO INFORMATION FROM BERLIN ON THE MATTER TO WHICH YOU REFER. COMMUNICATIONS HAVE BROKEN DOWN. M Y ORDERS HAVE GONE OUT TO OUR TROOPS, AND IF THEY HAVE GOTTEN THEM THEN THEY WILL TAKE NO ACTION EXCEPT IN SELF-DEFENSE. PERHAPS THEY FELT THEMSELVES TO BE UNDER ATTACK BY YOUR AIRCRAFT AND ACTED TO DEFEND THEMSELVES. I N ANY CASE WE ARE TRYING EVEN NOW TO REESTABLISH CONTACT WITH THE TROOPS, BUT OUR FIRST ATTEMPT TO REACH THEM WAS STOPPED BY AMERICAN TROOPS WHO WERE WELL OUTSIDE THEIR CAMP. YOU ACCUSE US OF HAVING OPENED FIRE, YET I HAVE TOLD YOU THAT OUR FORCES HAVE NO SUCH ORDERS, AND THE ONLY DEFINITE WORD WE HAVE TELLS US THAT YOUR FORCES WERE WELL INTO OUR ZONE OF THE CITY WHEN THEY STRUCK.
MR. PRESIDENT, I CANNOT RECONCILE YOUR WORDS WITH THE FACTS WE HAVE. I MAKE NO ACCUSATION, BUT I KNOW OF NOTHING MORE THAT I CAN SAY TO ASSURE YOU THAT SOVIET FORCES HAVE TAKEN NO ACTION WHATEVER AGAINST AMERICAN FORCES.
YOU HAVE TOLD US THAT YOUR ALERTING OF YOUR FORCES IS DEFENSIVE ONLY, BUT WE HAVE INDICATIONS THAT YOUR STRATEGIC FORCES ARE ON A VERY HIGH STATE OF ALERT. YOU SAY YOU HAVE NO REASON TO BELIEVE THAT WE ARE TO BLAME FOR THIS INFAMY, YET YOUR MOST ALERT FORCES ARE THOSE ARRAYED AGAINST MY COUNTRY. W HAT DO YOU WISH ME TO THINK? YOU ASK FOR PROOF OF MY GOOD INTENTIONS, BUT ALL OF YOUR ACTIONS APPEAR TO LACK THEM.
“He's blustering,” Liz Elliot observed at once. “Whoever it is over there is rattled. Good, we may get the upper hand yet.”
“Good?” CINC-SAC asked. “You realize that this frightened person you're talking about has a whole lot of missiles pointing at us. I don't read it that way, Dr. Elliot. I think we have an angry man here. He's thrown our inquiries right back in our face.”
“What do you mean, General?”
“He says he knows we're alerted. Okay, that's no surprise, but he also says that those weapons are pointed at him. He's accusing us of threatening him now — with nukes, Mr. President. That matters a hell of a lot more than the piss-ant business in Berlin.”
“I agree,” General Borstein added. “He's trying to bluster us, sir. We asked about a couple of lost airplanes, and we get all this tossed back at us.”
Fowler punched up CIA again. “Ryan, you got the latest one?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What do you make of Narmonov's mental state?”
“Sir, he's a little angry right now, and also very concerned about our defensive posture. He's trying to find a way out of this.”
“I don't read it that way. He's rattled.”
“Well, who the hell isn't?” Jack asked. “Of course he's rattled, the same as everyone else.”
“Look, Ryan, we are in control up here.”
“I never said otherwise, Liz,” Jack replied, biting off what he really thought. “This is a grave situation, and he's as concerned as we are. He's trying to figure out what's happening the same as everyone else. The problem is nobody really knows anything.”
“Well, whose fault is that? That is your job, isn't it?” Fowler asked testily.
“Yes, Mr. President, and we're working on it. A lot of people are.”
“Robert, does this sound like Narmonov? You've met the man, you've spent time with him.”
“ Elizabeth, I just don't know.”
“It's the only thing that makes sense…”
“Liz, who says that any of this has to make sense?” Ryan asked.
“This weapon was a big one, right, General Borstein?”
“That's what our instruments tell us, yes.”
“Who has bombs that large?”
“Us, the Russians, the Brits, the French. Maybe the Chinese have weapons like this, but we don't think so; theirs are big and clunky. Israel has warheads in this range. That's it. India, Pakistan, South Africa all probably have fission weapons, but not large enough for this.”
“Ryan, is that correct information?” Elliot asked.
“Yes, it is.”
“So, if it wasn't Britain, France or Israel, then who the hell was it?”
“God damn it, Liz! We don't know, okay? We do not know, and this isn't a fucking Sherlock Holmes mystery. Eliminating who it wasn't doesn't tell us who it was! You can't convert the absence of information into a conclusion.”
“Does CIA know everybody who has weapons of this type?” Fowler asked.