Devenko nodded. “I will see to it. Does it bother you, Alex, about the American commander? That we are sending Saamaretz to finish him?”
For several seconds Vorashin said nothing, then: “What bothers me, my friend, is that Saamaretz was right.”
THE WHITE HOUSE
1300 HRS
General Phillip Olafson walked briskly into the Oval Office. He greeted the president and nodded at Jules Farber. He preferred to stand rather than sit.
“Well, Phil,” McKenna said, “what’s the Joint Chiefs’ verdict?”
“We don’t think you should leave the capital, Mr. President,” the Air Force general said heavily.
“Whatever the Soviets are up to, this isn’t the time for the commander in chief to be away from center.
And Iceland?” Olafson shook his head. “That North Atlantic area is jammed with Soviet submarines.”
“We don’t have submarines in the North Atlantic?”
“Of course, but—”
“Are you saying I wouldn’t be safe in Iceland? It is still ours, isn’t it? I mean politically. It is a charter member of NATO, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir, but Iceland doesn’t have an army, navy or air force.”
“General, if I were to get into any trouble in Iceland, do you really think an Icelandic army, navy or air force would be of much use?” The president got up from his chair. “Anyway, the way 1 read this situation, Gorny is taking all the risks. He asked for this clandestine meeting. He chose Reykjavik. If he had any idea of trying something funny, do you really think he’d go to such trouble?”
“That’s why we’re very suspicious, Mr. President. It doesn’t make any sense, from the Soviet point of view.” McKenna breathed a heavy sigh. “Must there be a sinister side to everything, General?”
“In my job, sir… it’s what you pay me for.”
“Well, my first duty is as head of state, the political arena,” McKenna said quickly. “It comes ahead of commander in chief of the military. That’s why this is a republic and not a junta. When I can meet with another head of state, especially the chairman of the Soviet party, I’m ready to jump at the chance.” He glanced at Farber. “I think Gorny realizes he’s made a terrible mistake in Alaska. I think he wants to stave off any further confrontation before this crisis turns into madness.” Farber nodded. “Perhaps.”
To Olafson the president said, “There is no hard evidence of Soviet mobilization, isn’t that true, General?”
“Not for conventional war, no, sir.”
“Or preparation for a nuclear first strike?”
“That kind of evidence only takes about thirty minutes, Mr. President.” Olafson tried to hide his impatience by staring at the floor. “You asked for our advice, sir. We don’t like the situation. We think you should decline the offer.” He glanced up. “Anyway… if Gorny really wanted to make some gesture against confrontation, why doesn’t he call back his goddamn troops?”
McKenna considered it. He paced several moments and wound up behind his desk before turning back to the spokesman of the JCS. “Maybe he’s tried. Maybe he can’t get through to them.”
“If we can talk to Caffey, sir, they can talk to their people.”
“I just don’t think Gorny would try to arrange this meeting to cover a strike. The man is not insane.” The president sat in his chair. “Jules, speak to me.about time. How long would the trip take?”
“Four and a half going; five returning.”
“And an hour with the chairman.” McKenna glanced at his watch. “Home by bedtime. Can I travel light? I mean light, Jules?”
“Kissinger went to China for two weeks. There was a total news blackout.”
“Dr. Kissinger was not president.”
Farber half-smiled. “No?” He nodded. “Yes, Mr. President, you can travel light.”
“Good.” McKenna stood. “Then I’m going.”
Olafson’s eyes flickered. “Mr. President—”
McKenna held up a hand to him. “Jules, make the proper notification to Moscow. I want to be in the air by 3:00 P.M.” He turned to the general. “Phil, I think this is too important to decline.”
“It’s your decision, Mr. President. If you must go, I have to respect that, but, sir, I think it is imperative that we activate a Defense Condition Three Code.”
“DefCon Three?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No, it would stir up too much suspicion… on both sides. I don’t need the press jumping up and down wanting to know why we’ve put the entire military machine on alert. No, we already have this readiness-test business. You’ll have to be content with that until I return. At this point Gorny is not a warrior. He’s a businessman. Let’s see what he has to offer before we start baring our teeth.” Olafson let out a long sigh.
“I know what you’re thinking, Phil. But let’s give Gorny a chance. Sooner or later we’re going to have to begin trusting each other before we incinerate this planet. I vote for sooner. Okay?” Olafson nodded. “You’re the boss, Mr. President. I… I hope you’re right.”
“So do I, General. So do I.”
EXECUTIVE OFFICE BUILDING
1530 HRS
Alan Tennant walked quickly into the front suite of his office, loosening his tie and wriggling out of his jacket. He spoke to his private secretary as he crossed to his office door. “Sara, I need a quick shave and a change of clothes. Call Congressman Stout and explain why I missed our luncheon date. Tell him whatever you like…”
“Sir—”
“…Bring my gray suit. Tell Brad Reeves I want to see him right away.”
“Mr. Tennant—”
“Whatever I have on for today, cancel… no, ah, fix me up at least two hours so that I can be alone with—”
“Mr. Secretary?”
Tennant stopped at his door. “Christ, Sara, what is it!”
She nodded toward his office. “Someone is waiting to see you, sir,” she whispered. “He insisted—”
“Who!”
“Senator Weston.”
“Oh…” He closed his eyes. “Shit!”
“Shall I—”
Tennant waved her off. “No.” He took a breath and reached for the door. “Give me five minutes, Sara.
Five. Then get me out of there.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, I—”
“I know,” Tennant said. “The senator can be very insistent.” He started through the door. “Remember, five minutes.”
Weston was standing at the window. He turned when Tennant entered the room.
“Well, well,” the secretary of defense said with a broad smile. “Milt, how are you? I didn’t realize you were still in town. I thought with the recess you’d be back out West, glad-handing your constituents with holiday cheer like most everyone else.”
“What’ve you been up to?” Weston said grimly.
Tennant frowned amiably. He realized he must look like he’d slept in his clothes; he hadn’t changed them in almost two days. “Oh, do I look as bad as that?” He shrugged. “Well, I guess you know about the little Christmas readiness test we’re putting on next week. I’ve been up to my neck in preparations.”
He felt the stubble on his face. “I guess I do look a bit haggard, eh?”
“You’ve been in the crisis room, haven’t you?” Weston demanded.
“Crisis room?”
“Don’t give me that, Alan. You haven’t been to the Pentagon all week. I know.”
“Now, Milt—”
“I want to know what’s going on,” Weston said. He walked to a chair and sat down. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”