by Alex Lukeman
All of that technology was on display in the war room, carved from the heart of the mountain. The ceiling was fifty feet high. On the main floor, rows of uniformed men and women watched banks of monitors. A broad balcony overlooked the floor. Opposite the balcony, four giant screens displayed satellite shots and data. From his high post on the balcony, the duty officer could observe the floor and control what was displayed on the big screens.
The central area of the room was bare except for a conference table where President Vladimir Orlov sat with several of his key commanders. From this room Orlov had full control of the vast military forces of the Federation, including a nuclear arsenal capable of blanketing the earth with fire.
The Russian president could see what was happening in any part of the world on the big screens, courtesy of Russia's extensive network of satellites. At the moment, Orlov was observing a live shot covering the southeast border with the People's Republic of China.
He didn't like what he was seeing. The satellite displayed increasing numbers of Chinese troops and equipment massing along the border.
Sitting next to Orlov was General Vlad Petrov. Broad shoulders bore the insignia of a full general, currently the highest military rank on active service. Marshal of the Russian Federation was higher, but no one had been appointed to that supreme position. It was a rank reserved for wartime. Petrov commanded the sprawling Far East Military District, stretching from the Arctic North to the People's Republic in the south.
Petrov favored a mustache like Joseph Stalin's. He thought it gave him a look of authority and power, but he was unpopular with his officers. Behind his back they called him the "toothbrush." No one ever said that to his face. If they had, it would have meant permanent duty in the far reaches of the frozen north.
Colonel General Alexei Vysotsky sat on Orlov's left. Four other officers completed the group at the table.
General Kiril Federov commanded the Federation's Strategic Rocket Forces. He was in charge of Russia's land-based ICBMs. Colonel General Mikhail Ozorov commanded the specialized Airborne Troops, including a large contingent of Spetsnaz forces. General Vasily Volkov commanded the Central Military District, bordering China to the south.
The forces commanded by Volkov and Petrov were the first line of defense against the Chinese invasion that was about to begin. Ozorov's elite paratroopers would be dropped behind Chinese lines if they succeeded in penetrating any distance into Federation territory.
The last officer sitting at the table was Admiral Boris Domashev. In 1962 he'd been a young junior lieutenant on the Russian submarine B-59. B-59 had almost triggered World War III during the Cuban Missile Crisis. The captain of the submarine had wanted to launch his nuclear tipped torpedoes against the U.S. warships blockading the island, but his second-in-command had refused to authorize the attack. Domashev had been present in the ward room while the senior commanders argued about what to do. He'd never forgotten how close he'd come to witnessing the beginning of the end of the world.
Domashev commanded the Federation's submarine fleet. Under Orlov, the fleet had become the modern heart of Russia's nuclear arsenal. Several ballistic missile submarines were always on station off the shores of Russia's enemies. If war began, the missiles they carried were almost impossible to intercept. It was a simple matter of physics, distance, and time. Once launched, the missiles could not be called back. Once launched, the end of civilization was a virtual certainty.
The six men were silent, looking at the satellite views. In the background, the muted voices of the technicians manning the monitors betrayed the tension in the room.
President Orlov broke the silence.
"General Vysotsky. What have you discovered?"
"Mister President. My agents report that Beijing is not bluffing. Everything points to a full-scale invasion. Zhang is convinced we are responsible for the destruction at Three Gorges. There is another problem, perhaps more serious."
"More serious than fifty motorized divisions on our border?"
"The Americans think we are responsible for the disaster at their nuclear plant in Arizona. I have an asset deeply embedded in the their government. The American President is contemplating a first strike against us."
"We are not responsible for that event. Washington wants war. The Americans destroyed our plane and half our command structure with it. I have hesitated to retaliate because it gives them the excuse they need to launch their missiles."
Vysotsky was uncomfortable. He knew Orlov wasn't going to like what he had to say next.
"Mister President, something isn't right. None of this makes sense. Why would they provoke us by bringing down our plane? Why are they so certain we destroyed their nuclear facility? Why do the Chinese think we sabotaged their dam? I think someone is pushing all of our nations to war."
"General Vysotsky, you have spent too much time in the shadows with your conspiracies," Petrov said. "You yourself found the traces of American interference with the controls of the plane. They think we took out their plant in retaliation. Why are you now saying something isn't right? It's clear enough. Our enemies have decided we are weak and can be defeated. They will soon find out they are wrong."
"Once the missiles are launched, it will no longer matter who is right and who is wrong," Vysotsky said.
Petrov sneered. "That is defeatist talk."
"It is honest talk," Vysotsky said, angry. "You know full well I am a patriot. Do you seriously think we will survive all out nuclear war? That our people will survive? Our beloved Motherland?"
Petrov's face was getting red. "That is why we must strike first. If we strike first, we will survive. Our losses will be large but acceptable. We should launch now, before it is too late. For the greater good."
Vysotsky snorted. "Ah, the greater good. Someone always trots out 'the greater good' to justify war."
Petrov started to rise from his seat, his face now beet red.
"Enough," Orlov said. "Sit down, General, before you have a stroke. General Federov. What is your opinion?"
"We need not fear the Americans. My missiles will eliminate the threat. The Americans can intercept some of them, but not enough. We will destroy their nuclear capability."
"You are forgetting something, General," Admiral Domashev said. "Their submarines. The Trident missiles on their Ohio class vessels are armed with twelve warheads each. Each warhead can take out one of our cities. Their nuclear tipped cruise missiles cannot be easily intercepted. Many will get through our defenses. You may be able to eliminate their land-based capabilities, but you will never stop their submarines."
"Mister President," Vysotsky said. "Regarding the Americans, I have a suggestion."
"What is it?"
"As you are aware, we have worked successfully with them in the past, when it was to our mutual advantage."
"You are talking about the woman, Harker."
"Yes, sir."
"What is your suggestion?"
"I think I can persuade her we are not behind the attack on their nuclear facility. She may be able to convince the American President we were not involved. We may not avoid war with the Chinese, but we should avoid war with the Americans if we can. We are not prepared to fight both at the same time."
"You think she will believe you?"
"Mister President, I know her well enough to be sure she will listen to what I have to say. Whether she will believe me or not, I don't know."
Orlov considered the request.
"Very well, you have permission. Now, let us turn our attention to the immediate threat. General Federov, what is the status of your forces in the region?"
"The main thrust of the attack will come in the southeast. The 107th, 20th, 3rd and 2nd missile brigades are stationed within a hundred kilometers of the border. The 14th, 21st and 40th brigades are en route and will arrive by tomorrow morning. All brigades are equipped with our operational tactical missile systems, fully mobile. If the Chinese cross the border, we will destroy them."
/>
"The Iskandars are nuclear tipped," Domashev said. "It will initiate a nuclear exchange."
"And what would you have me do, Admiral? Throw rocks at them? These are tactical weapons. Their cities are not threatened. This isn't the 50s and we are not Korea. Once they see that it's not as simple as throwing heavy concentrations of troops across the border, they'll come to their senses and retreat. Especially when they've lost most of their motorized capability."
"General Petrov, what is the strength of your forces?"
"We've seen this coming for some time now," Petrov said. "I have forty-seven divisions with logistical support in the southeast quadrant where the first thrust will come."
"General Ozorov?"
"Twenty-four divisions. Some of them are second rate and poorly equipped. I'm stretched thin."
"You'll have to make do with what you have," Orlov said. "Admiral Domashev."
"Sir."
"You will be ready to launch if it becomes necessary."
"Yes, Mister President," Domashev said.
CHAPTER 53
The first thing Nick was aware of was a headache. Daggers of pain rippled through his skull. He was lying on something cold and hard. He opened his eyes, closed them against a sudden stab of pain caused by the light. He forced them open again.
He lay on a stone floor, in a room about ten feet square. The walls and ceiling were of stone. A stone ledge about two feet wide jutted out from one of the walls. There was no window. A metal door provided the only access to the cell. It was closed.
Drugged. The elevator was a trap.
He looked up. The ceiling was high, well beyond his reach. Mounted on the wall near the ceiling was a camera with a speaker underneath. A red light shining on the camera showed it was powered up. Someone, somewhere, was watching him.
Nick got to his knees, bracing himself against the rough stone wall. He was dizzy, still feeling the aftereffects of whatever had been used to knock him out. He stood and made it over to the stone ledge and sat down.
"How are you feeling, Mister Carter?"
Nicklaus' voice came from the speaker.
"I've been better."
"The headache is an unfortunate side effect. It will go away soon."
"Where are my friends?"
"Don't worry, they're fine. They're both awake now. The gas is powerful but short acting."
Then I haven't been here long. Selena should've called for help by now.
"Pretty neat trick, dropping out of sight like that," Nick said.
Laughter came over the speaker.
"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. You have caused me a great deal of trouble, Mister Carter. Fortunately your interference has caused only a minor disruption to my plan."
"What is your plan, Nicklaus?"
"My plan? My plan is to end forever this senseless bickering among nations. My plan is to create a new possibility for humankind, a new society, a world without borders."
"By starting a war? How are you going to start a new society when there's nobody left to be in it?"
"Several of us have prepared for the inevitable day of Armageddon. Not everyone will die, Mister Carter. I project that between 10 to 15 percent of the world's population will survive. When the bombs stop falling, we will emerge and use the survivors to build a new world order to replace the old."
He means slaves, Nick thought. This guy is completely nuts.
"You're going to kill billions of people. What kind of a monster are you?"
"Now, now. Insults will not get you anywhere. All renewal requires destruction, a cleansing away of the old. It's a theme as old as mankind."
"Like the phoenix," Nick said.
"Exactly like the phoenix." Nicklaus sounded pleased. "The cleansing fire will leave a world that can be rebuilt into a peaceful future. A new society will arise from the ashes of the old. A society where each will be assigned his rightful place, according to his abilities."
"Now where have I heard that before?" Nick said.
"You seem like an intelligent man, Mister Carter. You've proved to be quite resourceful, something I value. There is a need for resourceful people in the world that's coming. I'd like to convince you to join me in building it."
Nick's headache was beginning to recede.
For me to get out of here, someone's going to have to open that door.
"Are you offering me a job?"
"Dear me, no. Nothing so common as a simple job. People in my organization don't have jobs, they have tasks. Things to accomplish."
"And if I don't choose to join your...organization?"
"I'm sure you can imagine several alternatives. None of them will be very satisfactory to you, however. Or to your friends. Or your lovely wife. Why don't you think about it?"
Nick wanted to rip the speaker off the wall. Instead he kept his voice level and calm.
"What would you want me to do?"
The speaker was silent.
CHAPTER 54
Selena looked at her watch again. It had been thirty-four minutes since she'd heard from Nick, four minutes past his deadline.
Nick was in trouble, she could feel it. She could do what he'd said, leave and call Harker, but it would take too long for any kind of backup to come. By then he could be dead. There was only one thing to do.
She called Harker.
"Yes, Selena."
"They're in the house but something's wrong. You need to send backup. I'm going in after them."
"Selena..."
Selena broke the connection.
"Damn," Elizabeth said. She called Hood.
Keeping an eye on the house, Selena opened the back door of the Suburban. On the floor was a box containing extra magazines for the MP7s and a half dozen fragmentation grenades. She put four magazines in one of her jacket pockets and four of the grenades in the other. She closed the car door, brought her weapon up, and moved to the house entrance.
The door to the house was still open. She took a quick look inside. There was no one visible. She could see marks on the floor where bullets had ricocheted away. There were bodies on the stairs, one on the floor, but none of them were her friends. Bullet holes marked the wall around open doors on the left. Bits of marble were scattered across the floor.
Selena ran across the open space to the foot of the stairs. She could feel the twins inside her. It wasn't as easy to run as it had been a few months ago, but she could still move quickly.
To the right of the stairs was an open door. Through it, she could see the closed door of an elevator.
Has to be where Nick went.
On the other side of the stairs was another door, this one closed. She moved to it, tried the handle, and pushed it open. It opened onto a hall heading toward the back of the house. To the right, stairs led down to whatever lay below. A single bulb in an iron cage jutted from the stairwell wall, lighting the area with a yellow glow. A large number "1" was painted on a yellow concrete wall. Steps poured from gray concrete led down to a landing and disappeared from view.
She started down the stairs, reached the first landing, and kept going. At the next landing, the wall was marked with a "2." A caged bulb identical to the one at the head of the stairs lit the area. There was a metal door in the wall. She tried it. It was locked.
Selena continued down. There was no door at the landing marked "3," only the yellow walls. The air became cooler as she descended. She kept passing numbers painted on the wall. She was beginning to wonder how far down the steps went, when she reached the bottom. The number on the wall read "20." There was a door, the first one she'd seen since the second landing.
She tried the handle. It moved. With great care she cracked the door open. She couldn't see anyone. She stepped through the door into a dimly lit room filled with the hum of machinery.
Selena thought about something built twenty stories below ground level. It had to be a shelter to keep its inhabitants safe from bombs and radiation. This must be the room for mechanical systems that kep
t the shelter functional.
She crossed the room to another door. It led to a room stacked high with canned and dried foods, emergency supplies. She walked past the stacks to a door on the other side of the room and eased it open. It led to a hall about forty feet long. Four doors made of metal lined the hall, two on each side. Each had a viewing slot. A door at the far end was closed.
Those look like cells, she thought.
Then she noticed a camera at the other end of the hall.
Shit.
She stopped at the first door, pulled back the viewing slot, and saw Ronnie sitting on a stone ledge. He looked bored and angry.
"Ronnie," she said.
"Selena? Can you get me out of here?"
The door was held closed by a steel bar. She swung it up out of the way and pulled the door open.
"Man, am I glad to see you."
"Where are Nick and Lamont?"
Ronnie looked around. "Probably in these other cells."
Selena went to the next door down, looked in and saw Nick.
"Nick. Wait."
She lifted the bar and opened the door.
"You were supposed to leave," Nick said.
He came out and hugged her.
Ronnie found Lamont in the cell across from Nick and let him out.
Selena pointed. "There's a camera. They'll know you're free."
"Give me your weapon," Nick said. "What else have you got?"
"Grenades."
She took the grenades out of her pocket and gave two each to Ronnie and Lamont. She took out her pistol.
"And this."
"Let's go find Mister Nicklaus," Nick said.
CHAPTER 55
Elizabeth was thinking about what to tell the president and wondering if they'd be able to return to headquarters. The future of the unit was uncertain. Ellen Cartwright was trying to get the president to disband the Project. Corrigan would have to authorize repairs, and they'd be expensive. Just replacing the damaged computers alone would cost millions.
