“You speak of terrorism? What of the freighter that was sunk in Tartus only days ago?”
“There are nine hundred more like it and all are vulnerable. Without them your economy would fail. The world is an increasingly dangerous place. It is in your power to make it safe. To end the escalation.” Ryan paused a beat, then downshifted to a less accusatory tone. “Nikita, earlier this year you and I dealt with another crisis. In the course of it, I gave you advance warning of an attempt to replace you as the leader of Russia.”
Yermilov’s face went to stone. “I remember very well. But if you are trying to claim an owed favor…I should tell you that the chance of my being overthrown that day was not as great as you imagine.”
The two presidents locked eyes, neither yielding.
“Tell me what it is that you want,” Yermilov finally said.
“I want your help in stopping this madness.”
“What could I possibly do?”
“Perhaps you could find a way to get in touch with Malenkov. Order him to call off the strike.”
“I have no way to reach him—we haven’t spoken in a year. Surely America’s military can—”
“What about theAdmiral Makarov?” Ryan said abruptly. “You could order her to intervene.” He watched Yermilov closely, but saw no reaction. The speed of his response, however, spoke volumes.
“There are no Russian navy ships anywhere near the Suez.”
“Funny you should know that.”
Yermilov brushed away the slight. “I am not convinced this scheme even exists, but as a display of goodwill, I will have the minister of defense look into it.”
“You’d better make it quick, Nikita. Becauseyouare running out of time.”
Ryan gave a prearranged signal, tapping his index finger once on the table. The Air Force lieutenant colonel immediately cut the connection. The President looked expectantly down the conference table at the collective NSC.
“Well,” Mary Pat said, “that went badly.”
Van Damm added, “He knows more than he’s letting on. That bit about the Israeli canal—it’s true, of course, but it was a preplanned response to shift the blame.”
“I concur, Yermilov’s behind this,” said Admiral Kent. “It’s one thing to shoot yourself in the foot, but he’s using a damned elephant gun.”
“Maybe,” Ryan allowed. “At the very least, the man is on notice. When I said the guilty parties would be held accountable…I damn well meant it.”
60
The Maghreb
16 Miles East of Al-Jaghbub Airfield
0046 Local Time
“The storm front is twenty miles away and moving fast,” Hooper said. “We’ll get a good look at the airfield, but sometime in the next hour this weather is going to hit.”
From the observer’s seat, Clark saw a wall of red on the radar display. He looked out the side window and said, “I don’t see any lightning.”
“Not that kind of storm, but trust me, we don’t want to get caught in it.”
Clark didn’t argue.
“There,” Hooper said, pointing in front.
Clark leaned forward and saw it dead ahead—against the black void of the desert, a scattered arrangement of a dozen big floodlights. There was little else, no runway lights or rotating beacon as would be found on most airfields.
“You guys switch out,” said Hooper.
