The End of America’s War in Afghanistan (The Russian Agents Book 3)

by Ted Halstead

  Popel paused. “Now, that will be a hard sell. The Pakistanis have been saying from the outset that they’re relying on their nuclear weapons to offset India’s superiority in conventional forces. That superiority is already pretty glaring, and as India’s economy keeps pulling ahead of Pakistan’s they’ll have the resources to make it even worse,”

  “All true,” Hernandez said, nodding. “But what if next time it’s the Pakistani Taliban that steals one or more nukes to use against, say, government offices in Islamabad? Wasn’t their leader killed in something to do with this business?” Hernandez asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Popel said. “Khaksar Wasiq. We haven’t heard yet who’s going to succeed him.”

  “Right,” Hernandez said. “And what if whoever that is, decides to make getting his hands on a nuke a priority? It’s simple. The fewer there are, the harder that will be, and vice versa.”

  Popel shrugged. “That makes sense to me, sir. I’ll do my very best to get the Pakistani leadership to see it the same way.”

  Hernandez smiled, and tapped the side of his head. “I just remembered something, Fred. The images Space Command linked to that so-called “chemical factory” explosion in Risalpur. I wonder how the Pakistani government would like it if that lie got revealed to their voting public.”

  Popel smiled back. “Probably not much, sir. I’ll find a tactful way to include that in our discussions.”

  Hernandez nodded. “Good. That leaves India. Now, we’ve already passed on to the Indians what we learned about the explosives used to destroy those two girl’s schools in Afghanistan, right?”

  “Yes, sir. As you instructed, we said that we hadn’t yet decided whether to make the discovery that the explosives originated in India public. They’ve already responded by telling us informally that they’ve discovered and dealt with the source that sold the Taliban the explosives, and that what they’re calling an illegal sale won’t be repeated.”

  Hernandez grunted. “Good as far as it goes. But that’s not nearly enough. Tell the Indians that if they don’t want their role in the bombings to become public, they need to engage in good-faith negotiations with Pakistan over their nuclear stockpiles.”

  Seeing Popel getting ready to object, Hernandez smiled. “I know, Fred. Their nuclear weapons mean more to them than embarrassment over their role in killing children. Suggest just a freeze for a start. Both sides already have enough to wipe out the other. Why not stop there for now?”

  Popel merely raised his eyebrows, and now Hernandez laughed. “OK, Fred. I’ll rely on you to put that in more diplomatically acceptable language.”

  Popel smiled and said, “Yes, sir. We’ll give negotiations a try with both the Indians and Pakistanis. I agree with you that this may be a real opportunity to stop, or at least slow, the world’s most dangerous arms race.”

  “While we’re on the subject of things nuclear, Fred, let’s ask the Russians for access to that technology they used to find both the bomb approaching Bagram Airfield and the one nearing Kabul. Of course, thank them first, though we both know this was more about the Russians helping themselves,” Hernandez said.

  “I agree, sir. The Russians don’t want to see the Taliban running Afghanistan any more than we do. A Taliban with multiple nuclear weapons, which at one point looked like a real possibility, even less. Plus, if the security situation ever improves to the point the Afghan government can start mining operations, I think we can now expect a big Russian firm to be one of the participants. But do you think the Russians will agree to hand over that technology?” Popel asked.

  “Not without an incentive. The Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty that we withdrew from in 2019. Remember, I’d been thinking about opening talks on a new version of the treaty?” Hernandez asked.

  “Yes, sir. But some big contractors have been developing missiles in the five hundred to fifty-five hundred kilometer range covered by the treaty in the years since 2019. That’s a lot of jobs in a lot of states. It’s also a lot of Congressmen and Senators lined up to support that spending. I thought you were going to wait until the next election to take this on,” Popel said.

  “Well, Fred, I don’t think these new missiles are going to make us any more secure. In fact, once the Russians build the same number or more, the reverse. But that Russian nuclear detection technology, that will make us safer,” Hernandez said.

  Then he paused. “Let’s tell the Russians we want the technology to help reduce the need for on-site inspections to ensure compliance with the terms of a new INF treaty. Make sure you’re clear that we’re saying reduce, not eliminate.”

  Popel nodded. “That just might work, sir.”

  “Oh, and one last thing, Fred. Please pass on my thanks to Embassy Islamabad for getting us the word right away on that intel from their Pakistani source. And at an ungodly hour to boot,” Hernandez said.

  Seeing that Popel looked surprised, Hernandez smiled. “I can read a timestamp, Fred. They sent that cable at three AM, their time. Not exactly the banker’s hours so many people seem to think civilian government employees keep.”

  “Yes, sir. Happy to pass on the good word. I know it will be appreciated,” Popel said and left.

  That reminded Hernandez that there were a few more people to thank. The officer who spotted the nuclear explosion at Risalpur. The analyst who prepared the brief on what turned out to be Mullah Abdul Zahed’s confession.

  And especially the officer who stopped the bomb from getting to Bagram Airfield. Hernandez could well imagine living with the burden of that decision because if time allowed, it should have been his to make.

  Maybe get him out of the pressure cooker of managing drone operations at Creech Air Base. Hernandez had just acted on a decision paper for the drone training about to start in the Baltic countries and Ukraine, designed to shore up their ability to stand up to the Russians.

  It had come to him for decision because some thought Russia appeared to be backing off its aggressive designs in Europe. Others thought it best to be prepared, just in case Russia shifted its stance yet again.

  Hernandez had always believed in being prepared. So, he had approved both the drone sales and the training package that went with them. But for the moment, at least, Russia seemed peaceful enough. In this last crisis, they’d even been helpful.

  Yes, Europe should be a nice, quiet place for Captain Pettigrew to recover.

  Hernandez made a note to bring all this up with General Robinson. Knowing him, he’d probably have already thought about at least some of these details.

  Then he shook his head. Hernandez had made a successful business career by following a few basic principles. One of the most important was to reward outstanding performance. It astonished him how often he had to prod much of the federal government to follow that simple rule.

  Well, Hernandez thought, as long as I’m in this chair, that’s how it’s going to be.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Pakistan Secretariat, Islamabad, Pakistan

  President Hamza Shadid looked coolly at General Firoz Kulkari, who was standing at attention in front of his desk and sighed. The man looked just like his predecessor, right down to his neatly trimmed mustache.

  Since his predecessor had just been executed for treason, this was not particularly a recommendation.

  Hamza glanced again at the notes on his desk and realized there was no point in second-guessing himself now. He’d had to reach down far into the ranks of Pakistan’s generals to find one who had no association with the one he’d just had executed.

  Now to see if this one had any more sense.

  “General, I need your honest military assessment on the question I’m about to ask you. What I don’t want is for you to worry about how many of your fellow generals might be unhappy with your answer. Is that clear?” Hamza asked.

  “Perfectly, sir. As far as I’m concerned, what you’ve just asked is the most important part of my job,” Firoz said.

  Hamza grunted
and sat back in his chair. So far, so good.

  “Would our national security be threatened if we agreed to freeze our nuclear weapons program at its current level, on condition that India does the same? Assume that we can work out the issue of verification to our satisfaction,” Hamza said.

  Firoz stood stock still for several moments, clearly considering the question.

  Well, good, Hamza thought. Only an idiot would answer such a question instantly.

  Firoz finally said, “I do not believe so, sir. India has more nuclear weapons than we do. However, our land-based missiles are on mobile platforms. We move our nuclear-capable air assets regularly. And we have successfully tested and deployed submarine-launched cruise missiles. A devastating response would still meet even the most effective first strike imaginable.”

  Hamza nodded. “Good. Do you have any concerns, then, with this freeze proposal?”

  Firoz frowned. “Just one, sir. How likely is it that the Indians will agree to discuss the idea? Not only do they have more nuclear weapons than we do, but their production capacity and overall military budget is also superior to ours. Without a freeze, I would expect them to pull even farther ahead of us in the years to come.”

  Hamza smiled thinly. “Yes, and on top of that, we just lost eight of our nuclear cruise missiles.”

  And, Hamza thought to himself, no need to tell Firoz the Americans have proof that one of them exploded in Risalpur.

  Firoz wisely stayed silent.

  “Well, General, it turns out that’s not a problem. The Indians came to us with the freeze proposal. They say they know the Taliban stole several of our nuclear weapons and exploded one of them in Afghanistan, though, of course, we continue to deny that publicly. They also say that a freeze is the best way to keep the numbers of nuclear weapons low enough that we can concentrate on not letting a theft happen again. What do you say to that, General?” Hamza asked.

  Firoz was silent for several seconds, only a twitch from his mustache betraying his anger.

  “I would say that the Indians are just as insolent as usual. For your information, sir, one of my first orders was that any nuclear weapon transport would only take place with a full escort of tanks and armored personnel carriers. Security for the convoy the Taliban attacked was inexcusably lax.”

  Firoz paused. “However, I have to admit that the basic proposition is sound. Fewer weapons are indeed inherently easier to guard. If we extended a freeze to not only weapons production but also the development of new missile systems, we would save serious money that we could put to far better military use.”

  Hamza was surprised and intrigued. “For example, General?”

  “Well, the point of developing even longer-range missiles never made sense to me, since even the Shaheen-3 can reach any point within India, including the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. For that matter, the Shaheen-3 could even reach Israel. It was only after the arrest of the traitors that I learned of the ridiculous plan to ally with China against India and Russia, which would have indeed required even longer-range missiles. Once we freeze those development programs and suspend the production of additional units of current models, we could put the funds saved into our export program.”

  Hamza looked at Firoz blankly. “What export program?”

  “Well, sir, we haven’t given it much publicity. But we’ve already exported JF-17 fighter jets to Nigeria, Myanmar, Malaysia, and Azerbaijan. We’ve also exported unarmed surveillance drones to the American Border Patrol,” Firoz said.

  “Remarkable. Now, the JF-17 is a Chinese design, correct?” Hamza asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Firoz said nodding. “Thanks to our lower-cost but skilled labor, we can assemble them more cheaply than the Chinese. All of our customers are happy with the result, and with funds to expand production, we could sell more. But not everything we sell was designed in China,” Firoz said.

  “For example?” Hamza asked.

  “Well, not only the unarmed drones we sold the Americans, but our armed drones such as the Burraq were developed in Pakistan. We also developed the laser-guided missile, called the Barq, which arms the Burraq. In fact, with the successful use of a Barq missile carried by the Burraq against terrorists in 2015, we became only the fourth country in the world to use an armed drone in combat,” Firoz said proudly.

  “Impressive,” Hamza said, nodding. Then he cocked his head and asked, “Myanmar borders India. How did India react to our sale of fighter jets to the Myanmar Air Force?”

  Firoz grinned. “An excellent question, sir. They didn’t like it. Not at all. Myanmar is not and never will be a real threat to them. But a more capable Myanmar Air Force means, at a minimum, stepping up air patrols along their border. That draws away planes from elsewhere, including from our border with India.”

  Hamza nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps we can use some of the money we’ll save on nuclear weapons to offer a truly excellent deal on CF-17 fighters to Bangladesh.”

  Firoz’s eyes widened. “An inspired idea, sir. The Indians wouldn’t like that a bit. However, I suggest waiting until the freeze is in place, and we have a chance to build up our CF-17 production facility to meet the order if the Bangladeshis agree.”

  Hamza frowned, but then nodded. Firoz had a point. India remembered well that until 1971, Bangladesh had been East Pakistan, and was still very much a Muslim country. It just might end the nuclear weapons freeze if it thought “the two Pakistans” were forming an alliance against it.

  He’d have to give that idea more thought.

  Aloud Hamza just said, “Agreed.”

  “One other thing about the Indians, sir. The more I think about it, the less I believe that their real motive for proposing a nuclear freeze is concern over future weapons thefts. They aren’t stupid and know we’ll increase our security. So, why give up a numerical advantage that is set to grow larger in the future?” Firoz asked.

  Firoz then immediately answered his question. “It doesn’t add up. Something else is going on we need to understand. I suggest we ask our friends at ISI to look into it.”

  Hamza grunted. Anything that got the intelligence people looking at the Indian threat rather than, say, meddling with Pakistani internal politics sounded good to him.

  “Good, General. Write up a proposal, and I will send it on to ISI with my endorsement,” Hamza said.

  “One last thought, sir. Many of the generals who were pushing so hard to advance our nuclear weapons program had ties to the companies that made components, wrote software or provided technical services for the missiles. I suggest we nationalize every company with any role in military production, to remove any incentive for generals to send us down the wrong path again,” Firoz said.

  “Interesting idea, General. It appears you’ve already given this problem some thought. I thought that Pakistan Ordnance Factories already had a monopoly on military production,” Hamza observed.

  “No, sir. While they are indeed the only source for the final assembly of military equipment, parts, software, and technical services are still being provided by private companies. A famous American General who later became President named Eisenhower warned about the danger of what he called the ‘military-industrial complex.’ Let us take this opportunity to bring it firmly under government control, sir,” Firoz said.

  “Thank you for some excellent suggestions, General. I will consider all of them, and get back to you soon,” Hamza said.

  Firoz saluted and left.

  So, on the one hand, Firoz was embracing the idea of a nuclear weapons freeze, which came as a pleasant surprise.

  On the other, he was quoting generals who had become President. Pakistan had spent much of its existence ruled by generals, and Hamza had no intention of giving up his seat to one.

  And that very much included General Firoz.

  He would definitely bear watching.

  Creech Air Force Base, Nevada

  Lt. Colonel Emmanuel Wainwright knew something had happened at the drone control
center. Nobody he had asked had told him anything about it.

  But Wainwright had pressed one young airman on his first tour hard. Finally, the airman had said he couldn’t talk because it was Sensitive Compartmented Information. When Wainwright had told the airman he had an SCI clearance, he’d just said, “Not for this you don’t, sir.”

  Wainwright had asked the airman how he could be so sure. When the airman said, “You weren’t there, sir,” Wainwright had his confirmation.

  Something had definitely happened at the drone control center. If Wainwright could just find out what it was, maybe he could use the information to hang Captain Pettigrew and get his career back on track.

  Just as he had this pleasant thought, the phone rang on Wainwright’s desk.

  Wainwright immediately recognized the caller’s voice. It was Archie, the one friend who had been willing to give him a heads-up on Pettigrew.

  “Great to hear from you, Archie!” Wainwright began.

  “Look, Manny, I’ve got to make this quick,” Archie replied.

  Wainwright frowned. Whatever this was, it didn’t sound like good news.

  But Archie’s next words seemed to contradict that impression.

  “Manny, I know you’ve been looking for a pilot’s job with an airline based out of McCarran Airport there in Vegas. That job is yours. The catch is you start tomorrow. That means you put in your retirement papers today. Agree right now, and I’ll e-mail you the details,” Archie said.

  Wainwright had to think about that one a moment. He had the time in to qualify for immediate voluntary retirement. But why the rush?

  “Archie, first, thanks a lot. Just one question. What’s the hurry?” Wainwright asked.

  This was met by silence at the other end of the line, long enough that Wainwright started to think they’d been cut off.

  Then Archie finally replied. “Look, I’m in real trouble, and it’ll be a lot bigger if you don’t say yes. For you, too. They found out I talked to you about Pettigrew. They want you out right now. If you don’t retire and take the job, they’re going to bring you up on charges. Something to do with violating security regulations.”