Overkill

derived from the aircraft’s official designation of National Emergency Airborne Command Post, the Nightwatch 747 provides an awesome array of communications facilities.

From the aircraft, which can stay airborne for as long as seventy-two hours with in-flight refuelling, the National Command Authority can directly control virtually all of America’s armed might. The Nightwatch plane carries a battle staff capable of duplicating all the Presidential codes for nuclear weapon release, and copies of all the procedures and operational plans to conduct a nuclear exchange.

The President or Vice-President is also able to communicate with the Strategic Air Command’s airborne command post, originally called Looking Glass, but today code-named Cover All. One Cover All aircraft is airborne at all times, commanded by a SAC general, and has the ability to launch the entire Minuteman missile force. In times of crisis, at least another two Cover All aircraft are scrambled.

The Vice-President looked back briefly towards the White House, wondering if he would see it or the President again, then turned his mind to the task in hand.

Autoroute A26, vicinity of Couvron-et-Aumencourt

Twenty minutes later the helicopter lifted off again, the Minister having peered approvingly at the Russian prisoners and with displeasure into the back of the lorry. Richter had told Lacomte that he thought they should just release the Russians and pretend nothing had happened. After a moment he agreed, and so did the Minister once Lacomte had explained the reasons to him.

Monsieur Giraud, who had remained a respectful one pace behind the Minister throughout his visit, had one additional suggestion. ‘We will take photographs,’ he said, ‘of the weapon in the back of the lorry, and pictures of all the Russians who accompanied it. Still pictures and videos, so that there can be no possible doubt about the crime.’

While Lacomte organized a DST photographic unit, Richter returned to the Transit. ‘Good news,’ he said to Modin. ‘The Minister has approved your release.’ He explained about the photographs that would be taken, and Modin smiled.

As Richter stood up to leave, Modin spoke again. ‘Mr Beatty,’ he said, ‘there are three other things we should discuss.’

Richter sat down. ‘Yes?’ he replied

The Russian seemed lost in thought for a second, then he looked over at the Englishman. ‘There will be a delay while we wait for the photographers, and we are still waiting for the new tyres for our vehicles, but I would imagine we will be allowed to leave here in about three or four hours. Would that be a reasonable estimate?’

‘Yes, probably,’ Richter said. He couldn’t see where the Russian was heading.

‘So, we can probably expect to reach Calais no later than, say, about two o’clock tomorrow morning?’ Richter nodded. ‘The Calais to Dover ferries run all night, so we will probably reach London by about five or six tomorrow morning. In view of what I am about to tell you, you may wish to delay our release from here, although you obviously cannot hold us indefinitely. Our London Embassy is expecting us no later than tomorrow midday, which is the estimate I passed to them when we finally got out of Strasbourg.’ A thought struck him, and he smiled slightly. ‘I should have guessed then. The roadworks were a delaying tactic – a device to hold us up while you organized this?’ He waved a hand at the people outside.

‘Not my idea,’ Richter replied, ‘but the DST thought it was worth doing.’

‘It was, and it was well done.’ Modin’s smile vanished, and he leant forward. ‘You must realize,’ he said, ‘that I am a patriot, not a traitor. I have provided you with information about this matter only because I believe the plan to be ill-conceived and, as I have already said, I actually want it to fail.’ Modin stopped, apparently trying to come to a decision. He opened his briefcase again, tore a scrap of paper from a notebook and scribbled on it. Then he handed the scrap to Richter; on it was a single Russian word – Krutaya.

‘What’s this?’ Richter asked.

‘That,’ Modin said, ‘is all I can do for you, Mr Beatty, without placing my own life in even more danger than it is already. You will need to work out for yourself why that word is important. But,’ he leaned forward again, ‘you will need to act quickly, and you will need to work with the Americans. Remember, you must work with the Americans.’

Richter looked at him, and tucked the scrap of paper into his wallet. ‘This word is to do with Operation Podstava, I assume?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ Modin replied. ‘It is central to it, but that is all I will say. I have not, and I will not, tell you anything that I believe would harm Russian interests.’

‘General,’ Richter said quietly, ‘I haven’t asked you about anything else.’

‘I know, and I thank you. When we reach London, we will proceed immediately to the Embassy, and I will have to compose a priority message to Minister Trushenko advising him of the seizure of the London weapon and the discovery of the plot. I will have no choice in this matter – that is my duty, and I will have to obey.’ Richter nodded, and Modin looked over at him. ‘You disabled the mobile telephone cells in this area?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Richter replied.

‘I would suggest,’ Modin said, ‘that you remove the cards from all the telephones we are carrying, and so disable them. If you don’t, there is nothing to stop me making a call direct to Moscow as soon as we land in Britain to alert Minister Trushenko. A cellular telephone would be secure enough to permit that. If you do that,’ Modin continued, ‘then I can delay sending the message until we reach the London Embassy because I will have to use secure communications. However, Bykov will certainly suggest driving south and sending it from our Paris Embassy.’

‘I can probably arrange for the DST to escort your vehicles to Calais and insist on your departure from French soil,’ Richter said.

‘That would be a sensible move,’ Modin replied. ‘That is the first point. The second matter is more difficult to assess. I cannot predict what effect my message to Minister Trushenko will have,’ he continued. ‘I explained before that I tried to stop this scheme and I failed. Whether your discovery of the plan at the eleventh hour will be sufficient to stop it I do not know. My guess is that it won’t, and that Minister Trushenko will simply implement it slightly sooner than he originally intended.’

Richter was starting to feel cold, despite the sunshine. ‘Even with the British nuclear deterrent in place, and no weapon positioned in London, he would still go ahead?’

‘Probably,’ Modin replied. ‘You must realize that Dmitri Trushenko has dedicated the last four years of his life to Operation Podstava, and he will not willingly see the plan fail. He is a driven man, Mr Beatty, and driven men are dangerous. I think he will go ahead because it is his plan, and his plan might still work. It might still work,’ he added, ‘because Europe is Europe and Britain is Britain. Whatever your European Parliament might say, and despite the Channel Tunnel, Britain is still an island and it is possible – or Minister Trushenko might believe it is possible – that Britain would not intervene if Russian forces invaded Europe.’

Richter digested this for a moment. ‘You said there were three things, General. What is the third?’

Modin looked at him. ‘Really, it’s another aspect of the same thing,’ he said. ‘You haven’t asked all the right questions, Mr Beatty, and there is one answer that you really do need. You know about the American devices, and you know about the neutron weapons in Europe, but you haven’t asked about how the plan was to be initiated, about how Minister Trushenko was going to convince the nations of Western Europe to agree to our demands.’

‘Go on,’ Richter said.

‘In the final stage of Podstava statements will be issued to all Western European governments. These will specify what we want, but Minister Trushenko didn’t seriously expect that just telling the governments would be enough. So he’s planned a demonstration first.’ Modin waved his hand in irritation. ‘I tried to stop that too, or at least get it moved somewhere else, and I failed in that as well. I wanted him to detonate it in a desert or somewhere where there would be little or no loss of life, but he over-ruled me. Trushenko wanted a location that was sufficiently far from major centres of population to avoid a catastrophic death toll, which might provoke an immediate nuclear response from either the French or the British in retaliation. But he also wanted a significant loss of life, to prove his serious intent, and he also wanted a really spectacular demonstration of the power of the strategic neutron bomb.’

Richter’s mouth was going dry. ‘Where is it?’ he asked. ‘Where is the demonstration?’

‘Gibraltar,’ Modin replied. ‘A Russian freighter – the Anton Kirov – has already