Defcon One (1989) (16 page)

The bombers are staging from their Arctic air-base at Mys Schmidta, and joining a group from Petropavlovskkamchatski.

They are armed with AS-4 Kitchen antiship missiles and cruise missiles.

NORAD reports the Alaskan Air Command on full alert, sir. We have Air Force and Navy fighter groups joining the Russian formations.

Excellent. The president visibly stiffened. How long until our boys intercept the bombers?

About one hour, sir. Wilkinson consulted the scrawled notes in his hands. The Forty-third Tactical Fighter Squadron, based at Elmendorf, has twenty-three F-15s airborne.

Will that be sufficient? the president asked, noticing Air Force One was rolling to an imperceptible stop in front of the welcoming committee.

The Forty-third is being reinforced by two West Coast squadrons, along with the interceptors from the Ranger's carrier group. Wilkinson looked down at his notes and continued.

They have two E-3 AWACS planes coordinating the intercept, sir.

Okay, Grant. Keep A gentle knock interrupted the two men as an aide announced the arrival of the welcoming delegation.

Mister President, we are prepared for you to deplane, sir.

Very well, the president responded, Mister Wilkinson and I will be along shortly.

Yes, sir, the Navy officer replied, waiting patiently in the hallway.

The lights blinked momentarily, an indication that Air Force One had shifted to the auxiliary power unit. The massive turbofan engines spooled down, fan blades quietly slowing in the cool morning breeze.

When I talk to Zhilinkhov, don't hesitate to inform me of status changes as you receive them, the president ordered.

Yes, sir, Wilkinson said as he rose from the thick leather couch and brushed off his trousers.

In fact. Grant, the more you interrupt me for quiet up dates, the more worried I suspect Zhilinkhov will become.

The president looked up, eyebrows arched, dead serious in manner.

You're probably right, Wilkinson responded as the president reached for the cabin door handle.

Let's meet our greeting party. I want to have all the hand shaking and ceremonial posturing over with when Zhilinkhov steps on the ground. The president didn't care for officious functions. He referred to the rituals as dog-and-pony shows.

I intend to blow the air out of his arrival and nail him to the post on the spot. The president paused for another breath as they started down the hallway. Grant, see if you can secure a place close by a hangar will do, or something similar so we can kick this off without all the ostentatious bullshit.

I'll get right on it, sir, Wilkinson chuckled at the president's unexpected imprecation.

The two men reached the forward air-stair door simultaneously with Colonel Boyd, who spoke first.

Mister President, we managed fourteen minutes ahead of the Russian ETA.

Best we could do, sir.

The aircraft commander of Air Force One prided himself on being punctual and a perfectionist, along with retaining a sense of humor under demanding conditions.

Couldn't be better, Don. The president shook his pilot's hand.

Enjoyed the flight.

Thank you, sir.

The lean colonel snapped a salute as the president and his chief of staff, joined by the secretary of state, departed the 747 and descended the air-stairs.

The president, analyzing the precarious stability of global politics, mindlessly went through the reception line, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with dignitaries, bureaucrats, and other officials of various rank.

The president requested that everyone accompany him to the position where the general secretary would deplane.

The contingent, looking confused, followed the American leader to the Soviet reception area, leaving the reviewing podium nearly deserted.

Walking slowly with Wilkinson and Herb Kohlhammer, the president kept an eye turned upward and listened for the sound of the approaching Soviet transport.

Tedford W. Corbin, director of the Central Intelligence Agency, sat next to Marine General Hollingsworth, as the secretary of defense outlined the DEFCON-Two status report in the White House Situation Room.

The vice president of the United States and former Navy lawyer, Susan Luthe Blaylocke, chaired the tense early morning meeting. Firing questions and fielding onslaughts was her forte.

Blaylocke had replaced the sitting vice president, who had resigned under intense political pressure. A series of controversial social and political gaffes had underscored the lack of confidence party leadership had had in his abilities to assume the presidency.

When a congressional hearing committee had been convened to investigate questionable financial dealings, the president requested, and received, his resignation.

Blaylocke had been welcomed in the White House in an unusual display of bipartisan acceptance.

She had earned the reputation of being a very business-oriented professional. As a Navy officer, Blaylocke had continually been assigned to greater responsibilities and higher visibility as her law career progressed.

The vice president had been assigned to the Pentagon when she met her husband. Congressman Stephen Blaylocke. The couple had no children but worked tirelessly to assist underprivileged and handicapped children.

Lieutenant Commander Blaylocke left active duty after her marriage and ran successfully for a congressional seat. Name recognition and further visibility followed, marking the intelligent brunette as a rising star in the political arena.

The vice president was always pleasant, if possible, but very demanding of those individuals in positions of responsibility.

Susan Blaylocke, without a doubt, was an organized and courageous leader. She had earned the respect of her colleagues at every level of government service, along with the respect of the American people and Western allies.

The vice president had been in Saint Thomas, Virgin Islands, enjoying a working vacation with her husband, when the DEFCON-Three alert was initiated.

Rushing back to Washington, Blaylocke and the president had discussed the global situation via secure air-link. They had decided to launch space shuttle Columbia earlier than originally planned. The mutual decision was a tactical gamble.

The Soviet general secretary, visible to the world in Lajes, would not be in a position to offer much resistance. The DEFCON-Two status was delicate and unpredictable, in view of the scheduled orbiter launch linking the basic stage of SDI.

The vice president had arrived at Andrews Air Force Base three hours after the departure of the president and his staff.

Now, with five hours of sleep, Blaylocke was absorbing the most recent events, provided by Cliff Howard, secretary of defense, and requesting solutions from the White House leaders.

She did not suffer individuals afflicted with nonlinear thinking, as a number of White House staff had learned.

Gentlemen, that brings us to date on the global situation, militarily speaking. Susan Blaylocke looked around the table before continuing.

Thanks, Cliff.

You're welcome, ma'am.

Ted, where are we in regard to contacting the Kremlin agent? Blaylocke asked.

The truculent little CIA director, without hesitating, responded clearly.

We have two of our best men attempting to make contact at this time, around the clock.

Why is it so difficult, Ted? Blaylocke realized the small, irascible man didn't like being questioned. Especially by a woman.

The surveillance in and around the Kremlin is very thorough.

They the KGB and GRU make it almost impossible to contact an operative outside the established pattern. Director Corbin was being as polite as he had ever been in government service.

Do you believe, Ted, that your men will succeed in the next twenty-four hours? The vice president wanted a commitment, a positive answer from the CIA boss.

Yes, Corbin inhaled, then exhaled loudly. The operative we are trying to contact has a girlfriend, a lover, who has a small apartment by the Taganka Theater. She is a leading dancer and rates an efficiency apartment.

Corbin sensed the stillness in the room, noticed the sunlight creeping through the windows, then proceeded.

When Dimitri

Who is Dimitri? Blaylocke interrupted.

The agent, the 'plant' in the Kremlin, Corbin responded.

Please continue. The vice president listened intently, her coffee forgotten.

When Dimitri journeys to the woman's apartment, our men observe him from different locations. His visits vary because of his irregular work schedule.

How do the agents actually make contact? Blaylocke asked, attempting to expedite the early meeting.

If our operative, Dimitri, has anything of significance to report, he folds his arms across his chest, Corbin demonstrated for the staff members, with the left wrist on top of his right wrist.

If he has nothing to report, the opposite arm fold is used, a very subtle gesture.

That seems fairly inconspicuous, Blaylocke responded, then waited for the diminutive CIA director to continue.

That part is. If our plant and one of the agents need to communicate, the agent waits at the Central Moscow train station for the operative our Kremlin resident.

Corbin paused for a sip of orange juice, then continued the narrative.

If Dimitri takes his train ticket money out of his right pocket, he is going to Gorkiy. If it's the left pocket, the destination is Kharkov.

Doesn't that create suspicion with the KGB goons, if they are watching?' General Vandermeer, the Army chief of staff, queried the civilian administrator.

Not really. General. They have grown accustomed to Dimitri's frequent train trips, along with his two sojourns home each year. We have been fortunate his mother can't see and is only semi-lucid.

Corbin found himself wandering away from the subject.

So the contact is made on board the train? Blaylocke had all the information she needed, except the when.

Yes. The agent buys a ticket to the destination indicated by the plant.When the agent visits the toilet facilities, Dimitri joins him for a brief update.

The Marine commandant had an observation. The train noise, the clanking of the wheels, would make it virtually impossible to record a conversation or eavesdrop at a urinal.

Precisely, General. Corbin leaned back and waited for the vice president to speak.

So, Ted, we can anticipate information from the Kremlin operative within twenty-four hours? Blaylocke wanted substantive information as quickly as possible.

That is correct. The CIA director could not bring himself to address the woman as Ms. Vice President, let alone ma'am.

Blaylocke wanted to make a judgement on the value of the forthcoming information, if any. But we don't know if the information gleaned from the operative will be of any value in the present situation.

That is correct. Corbin fidgeted, uneasiness showing in his demeanor.

Any questions, gentlemen? Susan Blaylocke waited to see if the secretary of defense, or any of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, had questions for the director of Central Intelligence. None did.

Thank you, Ted. You have been very helpful. The vice president smiled slightly, removed her glasses, and closed her briefing notes.

You're welcome, and ... ah, I will inform you of any findings immediately on receipt, Corbin stammered, being respectful without using a title, or the dreaded ma'am.

Blaylocke faced the other staff members. Well, gentlemen, we expect to hear news from Lajes in the next hour, Blaylocke looked at her wristwatch and noted that it was two minutes past seven, so I recommend we adjourn for breakfast and reconvene here at eight o'clock.

CAPE CANAVERAL The five astronauts assigned to the SDI satellite placement mission had been awakened early. Breakfast would be later, they were told.

Plan to attend a briefing in thirty minutes. End of statement.

Door shut.

Well, I appreciate the guy's candor, Air Force Col. Lowell Crawford, mission commander, joked as he waited his turn at the well-used coffee pot in the NASA briefing room.

Yeah, Skipper, the guy should get a PR job where his personality could really shine, chimed in Navy Lt. Cmdr. Henry Hank Doherty, the mission pilot.

Alan Cressottie, mission payload specialist, struggling into his powder blue flight suit, was the last of the flight crew to enter the small room. He was a popular and jovial member of the astronaut corps.

Cressottie waved to everyone, then threw a sealed cardboard container of doughnuts into the air. Gotta be prepared!

Is that the Cub Scout or Boy Scout motto? Doctor Minh Tran, mission payload specialist, asked with a grin spreading across his face.

Doherty, the picture-perfect astronaut, plucked the box of doughnuts from midair as Marine Maj. Ward Culdrew, mission specialist, replied.