by Walt Gragg
“Even so, keep after it, Chet. If we can find a way to discredit him and keep him from being elected without anyone finding out what we did, I’d be a happy man. With a guy with Fromisch’s past, there must be tons of things we could dig up on him.”
“I’ve got some of my best people working on it, sir. But after how poorly the German government did during the civil war in East Germany, there doesn’t seem to be much hope of turning them away from Fromisch no matter what nasty little things we come up with between now and April. And with the Russians mobilizing at this very moment, we’ve got a lot more pressing problems than Fromisch. Within a month, we could find ourselves in the middle of a full-fledged war if we don’t act and act fast.”
“Mr. President, let me reiterate again that State Department sources tell us the Russian mobilizations have occurred because of serious threats to the Cheninko regime. Not because of some so-called plan to invade Germany,” the Secretary of State said. “I can understand the CIA and military’s concern. But there’s no threat to us whatsoever. Premier Cheninko has privately assured me that the rumors of an attempted coup are, in fact, true. He’s asked that we not overreact to what are nothing more than the internal struggles of the Soviet people.”
The President turned back to the Director of the CIA. “What do you think, Chet?”
“I believe, Mr. President, that there’s more to this than a few hotheads trying to overthrow Cheninko.”
“Do you know that for sure?” the President asked.
“No, sir, I don’t. The reports from our operatives in Eastern Europe are not at all consistent. Some of our most reliable sources are telling us there was, and still is, a real threat to the Cheninko regime. But . . .”
“Boy, wouldn’t it be nice to see that bastard overthrown,” the President said.
“Yes, sir, it would,” the Secretary of State said. “And even if he’s not overthrown, this is bound to play right into our hands. My people are convinced that this attempted coup is the reason why Cheninko’s made so many gestures of peace in the past few weeks.”
“So, Mike, you’re fairly certain Cheninko’s trying to protect his rear with this alleged mobilization?” the President said to the Secretary of State.
“Yes, Mr. President. This is nothing more than a power struggle within the Soviet Communist Party. For the past one hundred years, they’ve had them every so often, just like clockwork. This one’s no different.”
“Mr. President,” the Secretary of Defense, his voice hoarse from his recent throat-cancer surgery, said, “if Cheninko was afraid of losing his grip on the Communist Party, why did he send fifty of his best armored divisions to the German border?”
The President turned back to the Secretary of State. “Well, Mike, have you got an answer to that one?”
“Sure. He announced there’d be war games weeks ago. If he calls them off, he looks vulnerable to those wishing to succeed him. And he also looks weak to his allies in the Warsaw Pact. He’s got plenty of divisions available to protect his interests in Moscow. Why call off the war games and admit there’s a problem within his regime? If he did so, he’d be encouraging those who oppose him.”
“Mr. President, let me reiterate again, the intelligence community’s convinced the Russians are up to no good. This overthrow thing’s a red herring to throw us off the track,” the Director of the CIA said.
“But can you prove that, Chet?”
“No, Mr. President, we can’t. The satellites tell us something’s going on that isn’t quite right. And many of our operatives are saying the same thing. But there’s nothing you’d call proof.”
“Mr. President, if I could interject here,” General Larsen said. “As we speak, there are fifty Russian divisions waiting to begin three weeks of so-called war games on the border with Germany. If we don’t move this minute to reinforce our forces and evacuate our civilians, we’re going to be too late.”
“Mr. President, my people,” the Secretary of State said, “have been working day and night for the past three years to come to terms with the Cheninko government. With the gestures Cheninko’s made in the past month, we’ve finally got an opportunity to normalize relations. If you do what General Larsen’s advocating, you’ll be sabotaging the State Department’s efforts. The SALT-VI negotiations are scheduled to begin next week. If we do what our military’s proposing, the Russians are bound to back out of those talks.”
“Mr. Ambassador, you’ve been sitting here taking this all in. What do you think we should do?”
“Well, Mr. President,” the ancient politician, darling of the party, said. “I’ve been meeting with the Russians face-to-face for over a year. And while I don’t trust the Communist sons of bitches, I believe the Secretary of State’s correct in his assessment of the situation. We’ve never had a better opportunity to deal with Cheninko than we do now. I’ve sat staring out my window in the embassy in Moscow watching the strange events, and I’ve reached the same conclusion as the Secretary of State. The rumors on the streets in Moscow say that the mobilization is in response to an internal struggle for power.”
“And you believe those rumors are true?”
“Yes, Mr. President, I do.”
It was becoming painfully obvious to the three who favored an immediate response to the Russian threat that they were losing the argument.
“Mr. President,” the Secretary of Defense said, “if you don’t order a full mobilization of our armed forces, I want you to understand the consequences. We can’t win a ground war in Europe if the Russians attack.”
“And we’ll lose any opportunity to win the Second Cold War if we choose to do anything as provocative as mobilizing our military every time the Communists sneeze,” the Secretary of State said.
“Very well. I’ve heard both sides. Does anyone have anything further to add?”
When no one responded, the President announced his decision. Like all decisions in Washington, he knew the losers had to be allowed to save face.
“Mike, I want you to prepare a communiqué to Premier Cheninko. I want it sent under my signature. Express, once again, our displeasure with his decision to conduct his war games so close to the German border. Tell him in the strongest possible terms that I’ll hold him personally responsible for any incidents between his forces and ours. Make it clear the United States will not tolerate any further acts of aggression against members of NATO.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” the Secretary of State said, doing his best to hide the glee he felt from his triumph.
“I also want everyone to understand,” the President said, while looking at the losers, “that this decision’s not irreversible. Bring me proof the Russians are preparing to attack, and I’ll change it immediately. Is that clear?”
All present nodded, stood, and filed from the room. As protocol demanded, the winners didn’t start slapping themselves on the back until the losers were out of sight.
The Americans had taken the bait.
America’s best chance for victory had been thwarted. There would be no mobilization of the country’s military forces in time to meet the grievous threat.
• • •
“Mr. President, we’ve got the proof,” the Director of the CIA said into the secure phone line. “We’re convinced the Russians are planning an attack in central Europe. I need an audience with you immediately.”
“That’s fine, Chet. Inform the Secretary of Defense and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. How much time are you going to need?”
“At least an hour.”
“All right, I’ll clear my schedule from three this afternoon on. How’s that?”
“Just fine, sir. I’ll notify the Secretary and Chairman and bring my best analyst to show you what we’ve found.”
“Okay, Chet. You’re on for three.”
On January 25, three days prior to the Russian attack, t
he CIA had gathered enough information to have a legitimate chance of overturning the President’s earlier decision.
CHAPTER 11
January 25—3:00 p.m. (Eastern Standard Time)
The Oval Office, the White House
Washington, D.C.
When the Director of the CIA arrived at the White House with his photo analyst, his nemesis, the Secretary of State, was waiting.
“Chet, the President told me you’ve uncovered some information about a big Soviet plot to attack Germany,” the Secretary of State said.
“That’s right, Mike. My boys have come up with some pretty convincing evidence.”
“Before we go in to see the President, mind sharing what you’ve found?”
“As a matter of fact, Mike, I do.” And with that, the Director of the CIA turned and walked into the waiting area outside the Oval Office.
General Larsen and the Secretary of Defense arrived. The group was ushered into the President’s office. After the usual pleasantries, the President got right to the point.
“What have you got, Chet?”
“Mr. President, the first thing I want to do is show you some photographs and have Benson here go over them.”
The Director spread six enlarged photographs across the President’s desk. The assembled group pressed in close.
“Yeah, Chet, six photos of a train sitting on a railroad siding. So what?”
“Mr. President,” Benson, a thin man in his late thirties, said, “these aren’t pictures of one train sitting on a siding. These are pictures of six different trains identically made up, sitting in the same position on the same siding on six different days.”
“What?”
“That’s right, Mr. President,” the Director of the CIA said. “The Russians have prepared these trains to look as identical as possible. But they’re definitely not pictures of the same train. They’re pictures of six different trains, taken on six different days.”
“I don’t understand. Why would the Russians make up six identical trains and park them in the same place on the same siding on different days?”
“It’s simple, Mr. President,” Benson said. “They wanted us to believe it’s the same train. We’ve gone back over hundreds of pictures taken in Eastern Europe this month. And they’re all showing the same kind of ruse.”
Even the Secretary of State had to admit interest in what was being brought to light. “Why in the world would they do that?” he asked.
“Only one reason,” Benson said. “They’re moving more than fifty divisions to the border, and they didn’t want us to figure out what they’re up to.”
“And until today, it had worked,” the Director of the CIA said.
“Well, I’m still confused,” the President said. “Tell me how you know it’s six different trains.”
They were now in Benson’s element, and for the first time the CIA’s top analyst relaxed. “Mr. President, look at this first picture. It was taken on January 3. The others were taken on January 6, 14, 15, 21, and the last one was taken this morning. The reason there are just six pictures is the weather over this portion of Poland has been clear enough for the imagery satellites to photograph only six times this month. We’re in the process of looking at the radar satellites’ images for the cloudy days to see if we can piece a pattern together. The siding you see is in the railway station in the small Polish town of Konin, 150 miles from the German border. As you can make out,” Benson said while handing the President a magnifying glass, “the train consists of an engine pulling fourteen cars, with a tank on each of the first nine cars and artillery pieces on the last five.”
The President took a close look at the first picture. “Okay, I see that.”
“Look at the other pictures, Mr. President. An engine, nine cars carrying tanks, followed by five cars carrying artillery pieces.”
The President slowly examined each photo. “All right.”
“Let’s look again at the first train. You can clearly read the unit designation on the tanks. Do you see those, Mr. President?”
“Yeah, I can make them out okay.”
“Now check the numbers on the tanks in the other pictures.”
The President took a minute to go back and forth between the original picture and the other five. “They’re the same.”
“That’s correct, Mr. President. But they’re six different trains.”
“Are you sure?” the Secretary of State asked.
“We’re absolutely certain,” Benson said.
“How?” the President said.
“Because in the last two pictures, the tanks are old T-62s, now primarily used by Warsaw Pact reserve forces. In the first three pictures, the tanks are T-72s. But in each picture there are the slightest of discrepancies. In the fourth picture, the tanks are T-80s. They’re definitely six different trains, carrying six different cargoes made up to look identical.”
“Have you examined pictures of the border areas?” the President asked.
“Yes, sir, we have,” the Director of the CIA said.
“And how many Warsaw Pact Divisions were you able to identify?”
“Exactly fifty, Mr. President. When we did the examination, however, it wasn’t the pictures of the border that bothered us as much as something else. That something was the area from ten to fifty miles behind the border. What we found there is that the Russians have laid out tremendous amounts of camouflage netting. We really don’t know what’s being hidden beneath the netting. But we do know there’s so much of it in place, they could be hiding as many as one hundred armored divisions.”
“And it could be nothing more than dirty laundry and mess tents, couldn’t it,” the Secretary of State said.
“Mr. President,” the Director of the CIA said, “we believe this is the smoking gun you wanted to see. These pictures, and the reports of our operatives in the field, leave no doubt that the Russians are up to no good.”
“But what exactly are they up to?”
“We don’t know for sure, Mr. President. We can only speculate. But the logical answer is that they want us to believe there are fifty divisions at the German border, when, in fact, there are many more.”
“And why would they bring more than fifty divisions to the border and go to such pains to disguise what they’re doing?” the Secretary of Defense said. “Quite simply, the only answer is that they’re preparing to attack.”
“Now, hold on there,” the Secretary of State said. “You’re telling the President that based upon a few strange events in a handful of pictures, we should assume the Russians are planning to start a war with us?”
“What other explanation could there be?” the Secretary of Defense said.
“Lots of them. Two come to mind immediately. First, bringing all these divisions west could be nothing more than an obvious reminder to the people of Poland and the Czech Republic of who the boss really is. Second, Cheninko might be testing our intelligence capabilities. He might be doing this to see how strong our ability to detect such an action is.”
“Come on, Mike,” the Secretary of Defense said. “You want the President to believe that the Russians would spend the kind of money it took for this elaborate ruse just to see how quickly we’d spot it?”
“That’s exactly what someone like Cheninko might do.”
“General Larsen,” the President said, “didn’t your people once tell me that the Communists would never attack in the dead of winter?”
“Ah . . . yes, sir, we did,” the General said. “We’ve always believed that when the winter weather’s combined with our capabilities to disrupt their supply lines, they couldn’t sustain a war in central Europe in anything but the best conditions. And for that reason, they’d never attempt it.”
“Are you now changing that estimate?”
“No, Mr. President, I’m no
t. I still believe the Russians can’t sustain a ground war in the middle of winter. What I do believe, however, is that based upon the intelligence information we’re looking at, they’re going to try. Sir, I’m convinced the Russians are going to attack. And they’re going to attack soon.”
“Mr. President,” the Secretary of State said, “the General’s admitted the Russians would never attack in the middle of winter, yet he insists they’re going to. General, do you want the President to declare war on the Russians based upon a handful of pictures of trains?”
“No, sir, I do not. What I hope from the President is for him to allow this country’s military to do its job.”
“General Larsen, what do you want me to do?” the President said.
“Mr. President, if we’re going to have any chance at all, we need an immediate mobilization of our forces, both active and reserve. What I’m asking you to do is to raise our alert status to Defcon Two and declare a full military mobilization.”
“And there goes the SALT-VI talks right out the window! The press will have a field day with that one,” the Secretary of State said. The Secretary of State had decided the time had come to play his trump card. He knew the mention of the President’s worst fears—that the press would be all over him again—would work. With the presidential election ten months away, and the President in trouble in the polls, he was terrified of the slightest hint of bad publicity. “Mr. President, if you declare a mobilization, the Russians could possibly take it as a sign that we’re about to declare war on them. With all those Russian divisions on the German border, who knows where that could lead? We might cause the Russians to attack, not because they want to but because they’ll view our actions as forcing them into it.”
“Mike, you’ve got a valid point there,” the President said.
“Mr. President, everyone’s aware of the importance of the SALT-VI talks. We all want to see a continuation of the nonproliferation of nuclear weapons,” the Director of the CIA said. “But we’re talking about a bigger issue. We’re talking about a Russian attack in central Europe in the next few days. At this point, that’s got to be more important than any other consideration.”
