None of the generals was particularly clear about how this exercise had been approved, there was the official version where the three countries leaders had met and decided upon “closer ties and cooperation”, and they didn’t doubt that the intentions were genuine. However, each of them had heard rumours, some that the previous Secretary-General of the United Nations was involved, and another that a private individual or consortium had underwritten the cost. However, there had been other rumours too.
General Ivanskiy continued his discourse on the planned exercise, laying out what he understood to be each of the positions of their respective governments. The US position being that both the American and British forces should defend against a Russian attack as the they have fought alongside one another successfully, and that the Russian troop dispositions (when compared to the combined US/UK forces) would be on a similar scale to any Chinese attack. This was not the view of the Hammer, but as the view of his government, he could not dismiss it entirely without reason.
The British position on the combined exercise being similar to the American one, except they believed that the roles should be reversed; Russians defending against a US/UK attack. The Russian position on the other hand was held much more passionately, only they should defend mother Russia, but with the tactical assistance of the UK against the Americans, but with the added proviso that the Americans would be limited on their use of technology to a level consistent with the estimated level of the Chinese. When the general had finished summarising the three positions, he offered his opinion.
'I think we should let our governments fight each other on the battlefield, whilst we govern.’ Gregori Stephonovich let out a roar of laughter at his own joke.
Indeed, Charlie thought, it would be interesting to see politicians and diplomats on the battlefield, firing wildly in the air, too scared to move and too afraid not to. Longing for the comfort of their air-condition offices, personal assistants and chauffeured limousines. The dangers of paperwork and the threat of words are a world away from the frontline.
Gregori Stephonovich continued. 'I believe that each of our government’s positions has merit, but I do not think any one of them goes far enough. What I would propose is that we agree here and now to integrate our three armies down to the operating level for the purposes of the exercise, and then to draw from their combined strength two forces; one to represent us and the other the aggressor. So gentlemen, tell me, what do you think?’
In but a few short sentences the Russian General had thrown away all of the government positions, cut out most of the coming week’s negotiations and probably come up with the most radically simple solution. That, to the generals, was the heart of it all. They are soldiers. Soldiers like to train above all else. This would be one of the very biggest and best training exercises ever conceived, and both of the Russian’s counterparts felt that as such it should also be the most effective. To combine the three army groups down to the operating unit level, split them according to the anticipated dispositions of Russian and Chinese troops and then have the two new armies do battle is a stroke of genius, Charlie thought. Pure bloody genius.
The rest of discussions centred around defining what an anticipated Chinese attack would look like in terms of men and material, as well as conceiving of a way to ascribe a new command structure that would fit with each of the existing armies methods. The task was not easy, but they were all committed to it and by dusk, they had drawn up a “heads of agreement”, a charter for the lower level officers to use in deciding which unit is placed where and under whose authority. The generals, after several toasts of vodka to the success of their upcoming exercise, retired for the night, satisfied that they had each contributed to another monumental step forward in East-West relations. The beauty of the plan was that no matter what, none of them would come away the “loser” from the exercise and all would gain from having participated. Sleep came easy to the Generals that night.
18:03 30 October [15:03 30 October GMT]
Domodedovo Airport, Moscow, Russia.
Sam and Charlie arrived early at the airport to wait for their wives’ flight to land. They both knew the hire limousine would be bugged. They had discussed when and where they would be able to talk candidly on the flight over. They had agreed that the FSB, the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation, would not miss the opportunity to eavesdrop on two senior foreign military officers. No matter the official stand on “peace and cooperation”. They knew this because their own security services would do the same given the opportunity. Even though they had hired the limousine from a reputable company, they still expected it to come with the addition of tiny microphones.
Lady Elizabeth Beaconsfield had only met Mary Morgan-Colt once before. It was at an embassy function some three years previously. She couldn't honestly remember which embassy. However, she did remember Mary. Not for the cosmetic surgery she had had done. A man probably wouldn't notice but a woman does. No lines around her eyes. Her lips too full. A nip here and a tuck there. Expensive work and not too much of it. Elizabeth could imagine Mary discussing it with her surgeon. “I could take ten years off and no one would know”. That was the secret, thought Elizabeth. A woman in her fifties can look like she is in her forties and look good. A woman who shoots for her twenties inevitably misses. Usually badly.
Elizabeth took out her compact. Ostensibly, to check her makeup, she actually wanted to remind herself that she still looked good. I could pass for forties, she thought. She knew that she was blessed with very good genes. She had always exercised, sensibly but regularly. She kept a good diet except for a period of vegetarianism in her teens when her horse died and her father had made a bad joke about horse burgers. There was also the rebellious phase when she first had her own place. The vegetarianism long gone she lived on takeaway food for over a year. Yes, she thought, definitely forties.
Elizabeth turned her thoughts back to Mary and the almost endless conversation they had had on the flight over. She had accepted her husband's request to join her as a matter of duty. She knew that the other General's wives would be joining them, expected to occupy themselves most of the time except for when they were to be officially “wheeled out” for ceremonies. Meeting Mary at Heathrow and sharing the flight over was, without doubt, the best thing that has happened to me in a long while, she thought.
Their discussion had started with the most obvious. Their husbands and how they are married to their careers. Next came talk of families with an exchange of photos. Mary proudly showing her two children to Elizabeth. There was no need for explanations or questions, Mary's son, and daughter were both obviously oriental and therefore adopted. Sally 'Cho Hee' Colt 16 and her brother Samuel 'Chin Ho' Colt were, Mary said, Korean by birth but ours by God's grace. Mary had said and meant that in the most precious motherly way. Elizabeth could see the memory of a barren womb reflected in Mary's eyes. Sally and Samuel looked lovely. She had shared her own with Mary. Her two sons Mark 17 and William 16 and there unplanned, unexpected little baby girl Gemma now 11. In the few short hours of the flight, they both managed to recount a lifetime of growing up, marrying and parenting. They were both looking forward to being grandparents as well. However, University and a career were ahead for their children first.
They had also discussed their Russian counterpart, General Ivanskiy's wife Anna. Neither of them had met her. They didn't really know what to expect. They both knew Russian women, but they were women who had left their own country behind to settle somewhere else. People are different in the country of their birth. All they had to go on was what their husbands had told them, they exchanged what little information they had and started to guess the rest to fill time. When they had finished they were describing Anna as some sort of half Russian Princess, half Olympic Shot-Put champion. They both giggled like schoolgirls at the image. The pressurised cabin and free champagne has certainly made an impact, a stewardess noted as she passed by.
Flight BA0874 rolled to a stop in
its allocated spot. Elizabeth and Mary both disembarked with the other VIPs. Porters gathered their luggage and accompanied them through customs and into the arrivals lounge. They could both instantly tell that their husbands had found the bar whilst they had been waiting. Well, thought Elizabeth, that makes four of us unable to drive, good thing they ordered a limo.
As they entered the car, Charlie leaned in close to his wife and whispered in her ear. 'How was the flight dear?'
Elizabeth knew this to be code for “is everything OK and what do you think of Mary.” Elizabeth drew a small breath and whispered back. 'The flight was fine thanks darling, Mary and I chatted endlessly, she really is very nice.'
During the drive to the hotel, they occupied themselves with small talk. The wives gently probing their husbands for more information about the Russian General's wife Anna. The little more they gleaned was that their marriage was as much a political one as it was a personal one. Anna's family apparently being very well connected and the General, then a Colonel with his star in ascendency was as good a match for her, as she was for him.
At the hotel, they had their luggage sent straight to their rooms whilst they all headed for the bar. The wives looked at each other and shared a thought. It is going to be one of those evenings.
10:14 31 October [07:14 31 October GMT]
Presidential Suite, National Hotel, Mokhovaya St., Moscow, Russia.
Mary awoke, dehydrated, disorientated, and very hung over. Her husband was long gone. He is always up so early no matter how much he drinks. I wonder if soldiers have special training? She picked up the hotel phone next to her bed and dialled the extension for Elizabeth's room.
'Hello?'
'Hi Elizabeth, its Mary. Have you had breakfast yet?'
'I haven't even opened my eyes yet...and I won't until the bed stops swaying.'
'I think you'll find the bed is fine, it's the cocktails we had last night that are causing the motion.'
'Are you trying to make me feel better Mary? Is this some strange American way of trying to improve my state of mind that I have hither to been unaware. Because I have to tell you, it’s really not working.'
The British, Mary thought to herself; love to use five words when one or two will normally do.
'Look how about we meet downstairs for breakfast?'
'OK' replied Elizabeth, 'just give me fifteen and I'll be down.'
Mary laid there with the phone to her ear and no one on the other end of it. That was something else she was coming to learn quickly about Elizabeth. When she ended a conversation she simply stopped speaking, if you didn't catch the intonation in her voice it could be quite unsettling. She replaced the receiver and composed herself to go down for breakfast.
Breakfast for the both of them consisted of more fruit juice than usual and a mix of cereals and breads. They decided that a quiet day shopping, possibly for a new outfit for the reception that night, combined with a light lunch would probably be the maximum that either of them could comfortably contemplate. Mary hoped her husband wouldn't be playing soldiers today.
11:20 31 October [08:20 31 October GMT]
MoD Building, Frunzenskaya embankment, Khamovniki District, Moscow.
'The negotiations are going well I think.' Colonel Petrenko suggested.
'You think so Nickolai Andreovich?' replied General Ivanskiy, more tersely than he intended.
He pulled out his packet of Sorbaine cigarettes and offered one to the Colonel. The Colonel took it gratefully.
'I do, yes General.' The Colonel stiffened, ready for the almost inevitable lecture about why and how he was wrong in his evaluation of the situation.
'Well,' the General started, looking deep into his subordinate's eyes 'I guess you may be right.'
The Colonel, very gently, let out the breath he was holding, his shoulders relaxed and the tension he had felt ebbed quietly away.
'You see,' the General continued, ‘they seem to be agreeing to every damn thing we suggest. It's unnerving. I don't know if they are just playing for time or if they are planning to spring a big suggestion on us knowing that we would have to swallow it. You've been dealing with your counterparts, what do you make of their negotiating stance?'
The Colonel took a long draw on his cigarette, let it out under force and stared off into the distance for a couple of seconds, he took another, smaller draw on his cigarette before he finally replied.
'I don't think they have a negotiating stance, at least not anymore. The impression I get is that they had spent a lot of time going through various scenarios before coming here. Unfortunately for them, your brilliant plan delivered on day one totally threw all of their preparation out of the window. I think they have been making it up ever since.'
The General acknowledged the compliment. So, he thought to himself, Nickolai Andreovich is politic as well as capable of speaking his own mind; this will be one to watch.
'I think you are right Nickolai Andreovich, I think you are right.'
The Colonel straightened up considerably at such recognition; the General just smiled inwardly to himself and made a note to have the Colonel included in the actual war games. The General returned to the negotiations intent on understanding what the American and British negotiating positions actually were. As the meeting reconvened, the General began.
'We have talked much and agreed much and before we continue I would like to give you both the opportunity to outline' the General paused for the right words 'those areas of greatest concern to you.'
Shit, thought Sam and Charlie almost simultaneously, he has rumbled us.
'Thank you General,' began Charlie 'and thank you as well for both proposing and hosting these discussions.'
Charlie had no idea where he was going with this, but he knew the worst thing to do would be to show weakness in front of the Russians. Both the American and the British delegations at the talks and those back home had been working hard since the first day. The bombshell dropped by the Russians by proposing a truly joint exercise had swept away all of the Anglo-American planning. So far, no one had come up with anything remotely satisfactory to replace their previous negotiating stance. Now Charlie had to succeed in a second where dozens had failed.
'What we were considering, deliberating really…’ Charlie began, hoping that his mind would not fail him '…was...was...whether, as it is going to be such a major exercise, it would be possible to have a military base for our troops in Russia.'
Brilliant, thought Charlie, now to add the final nail in the negotiating coffin.
'And as we see it, it would be beneficial to have that base on a permanent basis to facilitate future exercises.' Fantastic, thought Charlie, the Russians will do a major shit before ever agreeing to that. Charlie and Sam looked across at General Ivanskiy. The rest of the people in the room, from all three delegations held their breath, all attention focused on the Russian General.
'Da' uttered General Ivanskiy.
Da, fucking Da, what the hell does he mean Yes? Charlie's pulse was racing; a lesser man might have had a stroke.
'Da. That is yes. That is something we can discuss I feel. Though you realise that agreement would have to come from the Kremlin. It is above the pay grade of a simple Yefreytor, forgive me, a simple soldier such as myself to commit to. But I do have the authority to discuss these matters.’ General Ivanskiy lied.
Shit, thought Charlie, shit shit shit, what have I done? Opening this door will lead to the Russians suggesting a military exercise in Europe or the States and that would lead them on to a reciprocal agreement on having a permanent military base in NATO.
'Well,' interjected Sam 'it looks like we have a new topic for discussion. How about we call an early lunch and continue this later?'
Sam smiled confidently at his Russian counterpart and to his British one too, but he had a certain look in his eye that was unmistakable to Charlie.
'Da' General Ivanskiy replied 'after lunch then gentlemen.'
The delegations withdre
w from the conference room. Lunch, actually an opportunity to discuss privately amongst themselves, meant travelling to their embassies. Today the British embassy was hosting the Americans for lunch. As the door on Charlie's official car closed behind them, Charlie and Sam exchanged another look. Sam broke the silence.
'Bloody hell Charlie, what have you done?'
'You know very well what I have done. I've screwed both our countries. I was in a tight spot and didn't know which way to jump.'
'So you thought, into the lake of fire and alligators it is, oh and why don't I drag my old mate Sam in too.'
So, Charlie thought to himself, Sam isn't that annoyed with me. After all, he tends to go super-serious when he is really pissed off. Charlie decided to wind up Sam a bit further.
'Well' Charlie replied, suppressing a grin 'you could have spoken up, added something of your own, you know, actually participate for a change.'
Sam turned sharply to his left so his face was square on to Charlie's, when he spoke it was with the low growl of a man barely controlling his emotions.
'I have worked my butt off at these talks and you know it. I have worked for months behind the scenes planning these sessions and preparing our joint position. I, in short, have worked my fucking brains out on this.'
Charlie maintained Sam's gaze and slowly clapped his hands.
'Sorry I didn't realise,' Charlie said ‘I just thought you phoned the Russians last week and asked if it would be OK if we popped by for a chat.'
Charlie finished this off with one of his broad smiles. He could look like a cheeky little schoolboy when it suited him. Sam finally caught the joke. Returning Charlie's smile as a grin, his shoulders relaxed and he sat back into the seat. He stretched out the fingers of both hands, aware for the first time that they had become fists.
Dark Matter Page 8
