Seas of Crisis

“The president wants to speak to you.” Krushkin turned on the speakerphone, pressed some buttons, and the big computer screen on the wall lit up. Now it was a videophone, and Jeffrey was stunned. He thought the governor meant the President of the United States, but he was talking to the President of Russia.

“Captain Fuller, thank you for your assistance in this hard situation we faced together.” The president was of average height, barrel-chested and sixtyish, with rough, peasantlike mannerisms; he’d always reminded Jeffrey of Nikita Khrushchev with hair.

Faced together? Before, he refused to even speak to me. Wait. Had he been listening in all along? “It was an honor to be of service, Mr. President.” When in Russia…

“I want everyone else to leave the conference room and close the door behind them. Including the translator.”

Soon Jeffrey was alone on the videophone with the President of Russia, who spoke good English. Out of respect, he remained standing. The president sat in a plush leather swivel chair, behind a huge desk that didn’t have a single thing on it. The wall behind him was paneled in dark wood. His body language was tight, stiff, and his mouth and his eyes weren’t smiling. Jeffrey’s mood of inner celebration vanished; unease returned.

“Your commander in chief thinks very highly of you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“He offered me a substantial aid package, of which one detail might interest you.”

“Sir?”

“We agreed to sell the Eight-six-eight-U and all additional ones in the class that we can build to the United States.”

“I’m delighted to hear that, sir. They’re very fine ships.” And best kept out of German or Chinese hands.

“I face a very grave policy decision, Captain, and I seek your advice. You have experience at fighting tactical nuclear battles, and winning them. Russia does not. We only have paper studies and training simulations. This gives you considerable prestige and credibility, to me and even to my hardliners.”

“Er, I understand, sir.”

“Unfortunately, the crisis at hand is far from over. My more hawkish advisors urge me to respond promptly and viciously to Germany’s blunt refusal to pay immediate cash compensation for the damage and deaths they inflicted in their conspiracy to provoke us both into going to war. Emotionally, I’m inclined to agree with the hawks. I crave harsh revenge myself.”

“The German economy is stretched thin, sir,” Jeffrey said.

“We know. Had we not accepted their perverse bonds, in the belief that they would pay off, they might never have been able to launch their coup in Berlin and their war with the Allies.”

“We see the consequences of that decision today, Mr. President. Very serious consequences.”

“I offered your commander in chief a formal apology. He accepted it graciously.”

“What were you referring to about your advisors, sir, and wanting my advice?”

The president glanced at his watch. “I’m due back in a cabinet meeting soon…. They want me to retaliate in kind against Germany. That would mean inflicting a high-altitude nuclear explosion’s EMP.”

“Only in theory would that be proper retaliation in kind, sir, and it might not be your optimal response.”

“I know. For one thing, it’s precluded by your missile shield. A low-altitude burst would produce such a pulse, but only locally, and mostly as a by-product of direct damage on the ground from heat and blast, and radiation and fallout.”

“Precisely, sir.”

“I asked your president if he would launch an ICBM and produce the EMP over Berlin for me, but he politely declined.”

“Er, I’m not surprised.” Is he being tongue in cheek?

“I want your honest counsel, man to man. You came to Siberia and helped us by your mix of threats and cajoling, kept us from making some potentially catastrophic errors of judgment and misinterpretation of facts. For this I am grateful to you.”

“I was only doing my job, sir.”

“I need your opinion, one I think that right now you’re uniquely suited to provide. You know the horrors of nuclear war firsthand. You know what it means to fire atomic weapons in anger, and to have them fired at you. You’ve seen their effect on people, on those who die and the scars left on those who survive.”

“Yes.”

“What do you think is the appropriate level of response to retaliate against Germany’s attack, especially given their first use of hijacked thermonuclear weapons? A heinous crime.”

Jeffrey hesitated. “That’s a very difficult question, sir. I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer it, or whether given my position vis-a-vis yours, it’s even legal for me to discuss it.”

Someone interrupted from off camera. The president irritably snapped at the functionary to go away, then glanced at his watch again. He turned back toward the camera, meeting Jeffrey’s eyes. “The cabinet grows impatient…. Your president said to give me your recommendations.”

For the first time Jeffrey noticed the conference room’s camera, in a pinhole in the center of the screen.

He pondered. “It’s best to take the widest possible view, sir, both geopolitically and in the context of future history.”

“Yes?”

“What would other countries make of whatever plan you follow? How would that affect your world position, soon and later, in key ways such as diplomatic prestige, economic strength, national security, and current sympathy to you as the victim of Axis terrorism?… What would your own people think of you, today and in the years to come? That question has to be raised especially in the context of oblasts that are nominally autonomous republics on your periphery. Some may be motivated to break away if you take actions that they find too morally repugnant.”

Jeffrey knew that secession, for real, by these border republics was a constant Kremlin headache — or nightmare.

“Wise insights, Captain. The problem is that factions among my supposed advisors, overambitious generals and minority-party opposition leaders as well, in the inevitable way of Moscow, are attempting to seize this issue to justify an opportunistic coup. To oust me as soft unless I retaliate fast and violently.”

That sounds like they aren’t being backed by the Germans, who have to be hopping mad since they know America framed them.

But Germany would have clandestine tentacles reaching for the helm in Moscow. They were the aggrieved party now, and would also be craving revenge in a most ruthless way. Keeping Russia from glassing Germany wasn’t enough, as vital as that had become. Jeffrey had to help the now-friendly Russian president stay in power in this maelstrom, or Russia could backslide to the Axis.

“You must be bold and decisive, sir. Join the Allies?”

“Your president asked me that already. It would amount to declaring war on Germany and the Boers. We aren’t ready to fight such a war. Soon, maybe, with proper aid and planning, but not today or next month. You referenced this yourself, quite eloquently, during your conversation with Rear Admiral Meredov.”

“You’ve listened to the tape from Vladivostok?”

“Very carefully.”

“A nuclear first strike against Germany would have dire consequences, sir, ones all Russians would come to regret.”

“Tell me what they are. Be my devil’s advocate. I need strong arguments I can use against the overly hawkish faction when I go back into the cabinet room, to prove that moderation isn’t weakness. I stress, your personal word carries weight.”

“You’d breach the threshold or firewall which has confined tactical nuclear combat to sea for most of the war. That’s bad.”

“Very bad indeed, but perhaps inevitable…. What else?”

This was the hardest oral exam he’d ever had to take, and Jeffrey dared not get a failing grade. He began to sweat, but knew he couldn’t remove his uniform jacket in front of the Russian president. “Germany did not make a