That actually brought some in the room to ponder.
Sid Langston took his turn and as the elder statesman in the room, his understanding of the situation was, of course, laced with insight, or as he put it, ‘wisdom coming with age.’ Sid chastened, “I want you all to think about something very carefully, and why no one has brought it up is curious, but it’s about character. When one has put oneself in a precarious spot, then one would think the guilty party would show humility. I caught it very early on in this whole thing; the minute Walter suggested they might be culpable, Chairman Yu became very aggressive rather than humble, which is not the normal path for a politician.
“China grandstands, stonewalls, and plays these games of innocence, yet the whole time it is all subterfuge to buy time, but for what? Do not forget people, this whole madness started in their country. For all we know, this whole thing was part of a grander plan to buy time, because maybe they didn’t know how to control what they unleashed. Maybe that’s why they eliminated Pyongyang; maybe they were about to talk. And don’t forget, they were immediately blaming some other entity; as I see it, all stall tactics.
“Don’t you people see, this is all adding up to them perpetrating the granddaddy of all conspiracies.”
After a moment of thought, Rear Admiral Johnson asked, “Where does the sub fit in?”
Sid responded, “I thought about that, too. Maybe once they nuked their partner and realized there was no reigning this thing in they had unleashed, they decided to go for it. Play the endgame.”
“Which meant bring this new super submarine out early,” blurted President Kessel. He had just made up his mind.
The fact that they did not know why China’s top-secret submarine was surfaced, or when it might re-submerge, prompted Walter to put it to a vote to the Joint Chiefs. All were in favor of an attack—as was his Chief of Staff, as was his Vice President.
Then all eyes fell on the Secretary of Defense, Elaine Ihram. Elaine was never a knee-jerk reactor, and Walter saw her wince during Sid Langston’s near diatribe. He truly expected resistance from this wise and thoughtful politician and he wasn’t sure he could stop her if she felt impassioned about not attacking China.
* * *
Captain Fontanilla knew that the EAM just gave them all a real chance of dying on this day. They were to attack and sink the Chinese submarine and the aircraft carrier, Liaoning. Not questioning his orders in the slightest, Captain Fontanilla knew that one sub against an attack group was usually suicide one-way or another. But he also had some things he could do to even the playing field out, especially with the surprise of stealth.
Carefully, they laid a wall of mines they could run behind, as that always slowed the enemy down, but Captain Fontanilla went one further and placed a second row. After preparing the path they would run through, the USS Jimmy Carter did what it was designed to do. Without any warning, the Corvette had two MK-48 torpedoes coming in hot. Not a second later, the sub and aircraft carrier were both targets of incoming Tomahawk missiles. Each of the Chinese crafts did their best to defend themselves, but the best either of them could do was the Corvette light attack boat that had been able to decoy one of the MK-48 torpedoes. The other one, however, blew the light boat seemingly into a million pieces.
The Tomahawks each delivered their respective one thousand pound warheads directly into their targets, completely incapacitating them. Before they headed on their retreat path, the USS Jimmy Carter sent two more MK-48s at the crippled Chinese vessels, sending one more nuclear reactor onto the floor of the South China Sea.
When one spent a large portion of one’s life on the oceans going against Russia head to head, then one learned to respect the chess game that went on, and one especially learned to respect the enemy. China was not Russia, and the large explosion behind them confirmed it. The Captain of the Chinese Type 052D destroyer made a mistake that no Russian Captain would have ever made, as he forgot about mines.
The remaining ships on the Chinese side were not making any grand attempts to track them as they headed back toward Luzon in the Philippines and much deeper water. There they would meet up with their new task force, as they were now aligned with two Los Angeles-class Subs, and one Virginia-class. Nothing was going to be the same in the South China Sea ever again.
* * *
“I can’t believe it, even though I saw it with my own eyes.”
Karen looked at him, they were touching and naked, as Cupola always made it a challenge not to touch one another, but those barriers were gone. “It’s all like a bad dream.”
Anatoly fixed his eyes on her, “A bad dream that you saw coming.”
Karen asked pleadingly, “Do you think it possible those were exercises of some kind?”
Anatoly shook his head, “No, Karen, that was humanity being the worst kind of animal, one that kills its own kind. Those were real rockets and those are real fires adding to the accumulative blanket now covering the Earth.” He looked at her stoically, “We wouldn't have even had a week down there before this started.”
It had been six days since they had turned off all the communications equipment and they desperately wanted to turn them back on again, being children of a society who thrived on daily horror being delivered via the news. Whether it was the actual footage or the daily paper, people loved horror, or at least to read about it and live it vicariously.
Although they did not need the video, as they had the catbirds seat to the live show, they would have liked the commentary, even as redundant as it always was. Anatoly, the wise, got her out of there before she cracked; he too. He decreed as naked king of the castle that they should ban Cupola, too, at least for a while.
He reminded her not to be ashamed at being right; Madness was winning, and everyone was playing right into its hands.
The reason Karen was afraid to go back to Earth was the fact that she did not want to die in fear. She wanted to die on her terms. Anatoly hugged her, and she could feel the tension releasing, “I am trying not to think about my family, Karen. I wish I could get them up here with us.”
It was her turn to hug him, all alone out in Space . . .
* * *
On Earth, all Hell had broken loose, but not that the general populace knew. As far as anyone was concerned, October 1, 2015 was just another day of trying to cope with the madness of the new world, but not all of it was bad.
In just under two months, almost everyone in the United States of America was a much healthier person. Grains were still available, as well as some meat substitutes, but people had no choice but to convert to a healthier lifestyle. The Hostess-like bakeries were all but gone, and opening now were businesses that had mostly nut and grain fusions.
Some specialty bakeries survived by catering to the super rich. Using a variety of bird eggs, goat by-products and even llama milk, they were still producing. Of course, a simple cake was in excess of two thousand dollars. The separation between the classes troubled the man now waiting in his bunker for the worst of the worst to happen.
As the President of the United States, one was surrounded by some of the smartest people in the world, many of whom were far more qualified than him to make some of the decisions he had faced and would face again in the future. This decision was a big one, and no one in the room felt the gravity of it more than himself.
President Walter Kessel faced his gathered experts and asked, “They don’t know who did this to them, do they?”
Rear Admiral William Johnson spoke first, “It appears they do not, but collectively it comes down to us or Russia, and as of this time, they are not on board.”
Walter was about to stun the group, all except one, “Well, they will be in a few minutes, Admiral, because I’m going to tell them.”
The room immediately exploded into one big shouting match, but CIA director Emil Cummings brought it back to attention in a heartbeat, as he spoke over everyone, “I advised him to do this.”
Walter was correct; he had stunned
the room. It was not a secret that the two men did not see eye to eye on almost any issue. No one had forgotten the berating that Emil Cummings had taken by Walter Kessel’s Chief of Staff over a little deal the Newsies were calling, “Hooker-Gate.” Some of the CIA boys had been down in South America spending U.S. taxpayer’s money on prostitutes and lying about expenses. Regardless, that was all water under the bridge now, apparently.
Emil spoke again, “You all will recall our chatty defector friend from Russia? Well, some of his revelations were of the nuclear variety, and according to the file sitting in front of me, it turns out that our new friends have never trusted the Chinese very much. In fact, they have been running a very long-range plan since the early eighties.
“Basically, Gentlemen, the Russians built four atomic bombs inside of China. Piece by piece. And now they are complete and ready to detonate in case the Chinese need more real estate and start to expand their borders. The war would be over before it started gentlemen, and that is why President Kessel must make that call, for if he does not, then we might lose this chance to eliminate these disingenuous madmen.”
Walter knew stunned was a good word, and boy was he right. Everyone was stunned silent except for the Secretary of Defense, Elaine Ihram. She was all over it, “Please tell me you are not serious, Emil?”
Emil was in a fighting mood. He was a stocky white male, with brown thinning hair and beady brown eyes. He also had red facial splotches that heightened when he was angered. He tried to wear his hair in a kind of bang cut that did not hide it well and actually made him look ridiculous as far as most were concerned.
Walter always thought Emil took extra hard shots at Elaine because she was a stunning piece of God’s work. Even though she was in her fifties, Elaine Ihram was a brunette beauty that belied her age. And it was a subdued beauty that did not detract from her amazing mind. Walter could picture no situation where Emil Cummings could even get her phone number, and he honestly thought that this was a big part of Emil’s hostility toward the woman. “Come on, Elaine, did you think it was going to end there? That they would accept us sinking their new classified submarine of the future with a grain of salt?”
Elaine did not like being grandstanded, and one day Walter was sure she was going to pay him back. “Okay Emil, so your idea is to sway the Russians somehow into using the assets they have in place, assets supposedly inside the Peoples’ Republic? Might we all ask how you are going to accomplish this, do we have some leverage to compel them?”
Emil won the exchange with his reply, “Of course we have leverage, Elaine, and it’s the best kind: proximity. This whole shit pile is in their backyard, and do not forget, we have defenses. Other than that, we have the best weapon we can have in President Kessel. We are wasting time, Elaine, as it will be scant hours until this is World War III.” Emil placed the cherry on the sundae, “Has anyone thought of this, what if they had more than one of those fucking subs? We need to strike first, we must!”
A subdued Secretary of Defense finally gave her approval to make the call, and once again, the Hotline to Russia was being used.
Grigory was connected after the watch team went through their protocol, “Hello, Walter, my people were beginning to wonder what might be taking you so long to call us. Obviously there has been a disturbance in the China Sea.”
Walter could already read the tea leaves—Grigory’s people were obviously using this as a catalyst to further denigrate America, “Well, Grigory, you can tell your people that there is no reason to speculate any further as we were one hundred percent responsible for that disturbance.”
The cacophony on the other end of the phone was indecipherable, but somehow the Russian President came back on composed, “Are you admitting to sinking all those ships, Walter, even the Akula-class submarine?”
Walter controlled himself and spoke with assuredness, “No, Grigory, that is not what I am telling you. I am telling you that after we watched China sink India’s sub without provocation, we also observed the boat that started it all—their fully active Zhou-class submarine. It surfaced inside the carrier fleet. We think they might have had an operational glitch for it to have surfaced.”
There was a pause, and again some fast-talking, Walter assuming his naval expert telling him what the Zhou-class submarine really was. Then Grigory responded, “I see. So aside from witnessing them destroy India’s nuclear deterrent, you also witnessed their new highly-classified sub and thought it best to attack?”
President Kessel bristled, “Grigory, it does you no justice to lay out innuendo. The walls are down; we are at our cores here, so let’s drop the ambiguity. That new Chinese sub had just shot a random torpedo a thousand yards toward one of our subs; they were trying to bait whoever might have been out there into taking evasive measures. So this was no unprovoked attack. Had our ship taken the bait, they would have been attacked. And Grigory, we were right on the cusp of their nine-dash line, so there was no violation of territorial waters.
“So yes, we attacked them based on the facts that were available. Of course, our big concern now is, do they have more than one of those subs?”
After a moment of thought, Grigory responded, “My Generals are very unhappy, Walter, and they are blaming your country for China looking at us as the perpetrators of this action. They are insisting that you immediately take responsibility for your actions.”
Walter’s voice did not flutter as he let the Russians in on the true nature of the call, “Well, Grigory, as it turns out, that is why I am communicating with you beforehand. You see, we are going to need your help with something.”
The Russian President responded with trepidation, for he sensed something unusual was about to come out, “And what would that be, Walter?”
Again, without wavering in certainty, President Kessel replied, “As you are aware, we have been keeping company with Alexander Sokoloff this last year, and he has been very insightful. Especially in the understanding of Russia’s biggest fears and greatest secrets.”
There was a true silence on the phone line. The anticipation level was beyond that of any mere sporting event, even the Super bowl, because somewhere in the recesses of those football player’s minds, they knew what they were doing was not life and death. Grigory Yeshevsky restarted the conversation, “Go on, Sir, please.”
It was not lost on Walter that the first name congeniality was now over, “Well, Sir (Walter repaid the sentiment), unfortunately we have no time to vet everything our chatty defector has laid out, but the fact he indicated that you have Directive 2784 active led to this call. Now I do not have to remind you that in a few minutes, the Chinese will have either pieced it together, or they will just attack the best suspects. We have no intention on letting them know it was us, Grigory. And if you would like to be the whistle blower, then be our guest, but then be ready for the fallout, as we will eliminate them with prejudice.
“We firmly believe that this was all an endgame by them. They unleashed whatever it is wiping out our food chain, and we further believe that once they realized there was no reining this pathogen in, they then decided to play this endgame. That is why we took any strategic advantage out of their hands, as you must do now.”
Stoically the Russian President spoke, but before that, he silenced the room with his command. “This is a lot to take in, Walter. You know what you ask of us will cause half a billion people to perish. These might be low Kiloton deliveries, but they are all placed in very strategic locations.” That was it. The Russian side exploded into uncontrolled pandemonium that lasted a full three minutes. Suddenly a gunshot fired from a Federal Security Service agent brought it all to a halt. The gunshot was fired into a hardwood cabinet in the room, so fortunately no one was hurt.
Three Russian Generals were removed from the room. Grigory would consider their fates later, but the fact that they became so enraged that they tried to physically remove him from the room was unacceptable. These men were loyalist to the Rodina Political Party. The
y were not the only ones left—they were just the ones weak enough to let their outrage boil over.
Then Grigory realized that they were still live on the Hotline—what a destabilizing thing to have happen at this most crucial of moments. Trying to regain some semblance of composure, President Yeshevsky returned to the call. “I am sorry, Walter. There are still hardliners who will never change their ways. Even in the midst of all this, distrust is still the thing they cling to like children.”
President Kessel showed his wisdom again, and let the situation become a bygone. “Grigory, we need to act, they will respond soon. Is there an asset you cannot reach that you need our help with?”
Knowing he never agreed to do anything, the Russian President once again paid internal homage to the man, as Walter Kessel was the political equivalent to a pickpocket. “We will have to talk this out, Walter, time constraints or not. If they attack within our contemplation period, then it was inevitable and they will perish for their unwise actions.”
President Kessel remained now, as he had been all along, and that was robust. So his reply was no surprise to any of the believers on his side of the call, “Fair enough, Sir, but I cannot promise that if circumstances on our side change that we won’t take matters into our own hands.”
President Yeshevsky’s response was, “Fair enough.”
The call ended and Walter Kessel looked at his advisors for advice. Vice President Langston, always on his own page said, “Very well done, Walter. Very impressive.”
Suddenly an impromptu applause for President Kessel broke out, as no one in the room had seen such a feat in their lifetime. They’d admitted attacking China, true, but Russia admitted that they had been secretly building bombs inside of China for three decades—bombs assembled one piece at a time and waiting for a time to be detonated. Russia had never done such a thing, ever.
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