Ghost Force

'Now listen, Jimmy, with the exception of George, I don't want you to repeat this conversation to anyone. I have mentioned it to the President, who was having his lunch at the time and damn nearly choked on it. And I'm going to tell you, because I know you will store the information and be watchful for correlating facts.'

'Right, sir. I'm listening.'

'Okay. I want to mention the biggest thing that's happened in the last few months, which was of course the murder of the Siberian politician in the White House. Never solved, and followed up a few weeks later by what we suspect, but cannot prove, was some kind of a massacre by the Russian secret service of all the big players in the Siberian oil industry. No bodies, damn shaky explanation, no one really believes the Kremlin, right?'

'Right. Certainly not Lenny Suchov.'

'Now what does that tell you?'

'Not much. Except the Russians are extremely worried about their Siberian oil, on which the entire economy is based.'

'Correct. And sufficiently worried to commit a couple of crimes, one of which was unthinkable, and the other just short of insane.'

'Right. Those crimes sure as hell add up to a lot of worry.'

'Well, let's consider the political problems in Siberia. On the one hand they have Moscow buying Siberian oil for an extremely low price, and taxing them, and on the other they have their neighbors to the south, China, offering a much better deal, and even arguing about the direction of the new Far Eastern pipeline.

'Now we don't know what triggered this general panic in the Kremlin. But something did. They thought if they took out old Mikhallo Masorin, the most powerful politician in Siberia, that would put out the fire. Well, it didn't. And whatever the hell was going on, they thought it required further, drastic action.'

'Drastic is right. We're talking mass murder.'

'Precisely, James, precisely. The old tried and trusted methods of the Soviets. Remove the men, you remove the problem. But this Russian President is damned smart, and he's a long-range thinker.

'And if he dwelled on the Siberian problem for long enough, he probably concluded it was an ongoing pain in the ass. And if he took it to its logical conclusion, he probably foresaw the day when Russia might be face-to-face with the Siberians, who wanted independence and wanted their oil on the open market, to China.'

'I guess so. And I doubt it's escaped him that China is scouring the entire bloody planet in search of oil supplies.'

'No, Jimmy, that will not have escaped him. And now, I'm going to ask you a very serious question…where is the biggest oil and natural gas strike in the world in the last twenty-four months?'

'Not sure, sir.'

'I'll tell you. It's in the Falkland Islands. And what happened last month?'

'The Argentinians invaded, conquered, and grabbed the oil.'

'From right out of nowhere, Jimmy. From right out of nowhere. For the first time in twenty-eight years there was a sudden rise in the political temperature in Buenos Aires. Just four weeks after the massacre in Yekaterinburg, thousands of crazy fucking gauchos were sounding off about the Malvinas, right in front of the Presidential Palace.

'And only fourteen weeks later, in the middle of February, the Argentinians attack the Falkland Islands, with no apparent thought as to whether the Brits will be prepared to go to war over their territory. It was politically nuts, because it would make too many enemies for Argentina. And militarily reckless, because the British are famously capable of immense beadiness if anyone fucks around with their property.'

'Okay, Arnie. Why did they do it?'

'I don't know. But how about Russia told them to do it. How about Russia said they'd take care of the oil, drill for it, market it, build the pipelines, and cut Argentina in for a very generous piece of the deal. In return for which, they would make certain that any Royal Navy Task Force was eliminated, and the islands would remain sovereign Argentinian territory.'

'Jesus Christ. Are you basing this on real knowledge, sir?'

'Certainly not. I'm basing it on a series of wild deductions, hunches, guesses, and blind political bias.'

Jimmy laughed. 'Of course, sir. Stupid of me not to have realized.'

Arnold, however, did not smile. He stared at Jimmy darkly, and said, 'But it might explain that fucking Russian nuclear submarine of yours, apparently making a beeline south down the Atlantic toward the Falklands.'

'Fuck me,' said Jimmy, momentarily lost for words. At least, normal words…'You're telling me that nuclear ship might be going to help Argentina defend the Falklands. Maybe attack the British. Christ. That's World War III.'

'James,' said Arnold, paternally, 'you don't have to do much to cripple the Royal Navy's Task Force. A couple of well-aimed torpedoes, straight into the guts of HMS Ark Royal, steaming in massively deep water, and that little conflict is over. She'll hit the bottom of the Atlantic with all the British fighter planes, and half the helicopters.

'If the British Army is already ashore, they'll be massacred from the air and then taken prisoner. The fleet, with no air cover, will be hammered sideways and the survivors will be forced to return home…and no one will ever know what happened to the Ark Royal. At least no one who matters. The Russian SSN will never surface. She'll just turn north and creep quietly home. And the world will believe the Brits lost a fair fight against Argentina, a fight she should never have entered.'

'Fuck me,' said Jimmy, shaking his head, and then, hesitating, 'You know the big trouble with that little scenario? It doesn't have any weak points!'

Arnold guffawed. 'Except there's not one shred of evidence that makes all those little facts and circumstances hang together.'

'What is it you always say, Arnie? You do not accept incompatible facts, right? I'd say the lineup you just gave me is one highly compatible group of facts. I'd say those little bastards are harmonious.'

'Jimmy, they are so far-reaching I hesitate to continue. But they have been on my mind. And they were on my mind in the days before you mentioned the submarine we picked up west of Ireland. I suppose no one from the Russian Navy has offered confirmation or even denial about the whereabouts of the Akula II submarines?'

'Not a word, so far as I know.'

'And there won't be a word. Which of course makes me think I may be right. Because if they'd sent a nuclear boat on a training exercise down the Atlantic, they'd have told us. You know, the Cold War's over. We're supposed to be buddy-buddy with Moscow. But when the Kremlin starts clamming up, on any subject, you know there's something going on.'

'I guess there is,' said Jimmy. 'But if you're right, this is a huge development. I mean what if the Brits catch 'em, and sink the boat. I mean, where the hell does that put us?'

'Jimmy, I'll just have our sandwiches sent in — Kathy's out, which means we get roast beef with mayonnaise and mustard. Our housekeeper is on pain of death if she mentions it…I'll be right back…get some more coffee…and then I'll tell you where we stand.'

Jimmy took off his jacket, tossed it over a chair in the hall, and sat down again in the warm study. He glanced at the third lead story on the front page of the Times, its headline set in italicized type, which signified it contained nothing new.

No Political Solution Yet — Argentina Occupies the Falkland Islands

At that moment the Admiral returned. 'Ignore that rubbish,' he said. 'Kipper knows more about it than they do.'

'Who the hell's Kipper?'

'Kathy's new dog. A King Charles spaniel. I think he's as silly as a sheep. But he might learn, which is more than they will at the NYT.'

'Where is he?'

'Gone out with Kathy. Virginia somewhere.'

Arnold sat down, and said quietly, 'This damn Russia connection could cause more trouble than anyone realizes, mostly because in the end we can't leave the Brits to suffer defeat at the hands of an armed