Shadow Command

weapon by the world community,” Minister of National Defense Ostenkov said.

“The world community looks the other way and shuts its eyes and ears while the Americans orbit a nuclear reactor over their heads and fill the skies with satellites and spaceplanes — I really don’t give a shit about their opinions,” Zevitin said angrily. “The Americans can’t be allowed to freely go in and out of space as they please. Our mobile ground-based laser got one and almost got another of their spaceplanes — we almost took out their entire active fleet. If we can bring down whatever they have left, we can cripple their military space program and possibly give us a chance to catch up again.” He glared at Ostenkov. “Your job is to support the development and fielding of Fanar and Molnija, Ostenkov, not tell me what you think the world will say. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Ostenkov said. “The anti-satellite missile is ready for operational testing. It could be the most feared weapon in our arsenal since the Kh-90 hypersonic cruise missile which Gryzlov used successfully to attack the United States. It can be deployed quickly and easily anywhere in the world, faster than a spacecraft can be launched or repositioned in an orbit. We can transport Molnija anywhere and run only a small risk of discovery until it’s fired.”

“And then what?” Orlev asked. “The Americans will retaliate with everything they have. You know they consider space part of their sovereign territory.”

“That’s why we need to employ Fanar and Molnija carefully — very, very carefully,” Zevitin said. “Their usefulness as weapons depend more on quietly degrading the Americans’ space assets, not trying to outright destroy them. If it’s possible to make it look like their space station, spaceplanes, and satellites are unreliable or wasteful, the Americans will shut them down on their own. This is not an attack plan or a cat-and-mouse game — it’s a game of irritation, of quiet degradation and growing uncertainty. I want to bug the shit out of the Americans.”

“‘Bug the shit,’ sir?” Orlev asked. “What does this mean?”

“It means attack the Americans with mosquito bites, not swords,” Zevitin said in Russian this time, not realizing until just then that in his excitement he had switched to English again. “Americans have no tolerance for failure. If it doesn’t work, they’ll scrap it and replace it with something better, even if the malfunction is no fault of theirs. Not only will they scrap something that doesn’t work, but they’ll blame the failure on everyone else, waste billions of dollars indicting someone to take the blame, then spend billions more to try to come up with a solution that is oftentimes inferior to the first.” He smiled, then added, “And the key to this working is President Joseph Gardner.”

“Naturally, sir — he is the President of the United States,” Orlev remarked, confused.

“I’m not talking about the office, but of the man himself,” Zevitin said. “He may be the commander-in-chief of the most powerful military force in the world, but the thing he is not in command of is the most important path to success: control of himself.” He looked at the advisers around him and saw mostly blank expressions. “Thank you, all, thank you, that’s all for now,” he said dismissively, reaching for another cigarette.

Chief of Staff Orlev and Minister of Foreign Affairs Hedrov remained behind; Orlev didn’t even try to suggest to Hedrov that he and the president be allowed to talk privately. “Sir, my impression, one that I share, is that the staff is confused about your intentions,” Orlev said pointedly. “Half of them see you surrendering power to the Americans; the others think you are ready to start a war with them.”

“Good…that’s good,” Zevitin said, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, then exhaling noisily. “If my advisers leave my office guessing — especially in opposite directions — they don’t have an opportunity to formulate a counterstrategy. Besides, if they’re confused, the Americans certainly should be as well.” Orlev looked worried. “Peter, we can’t yet beat the Americans in a military confrontation — we’d bankrupt this country trying. But we have lots of opportunities to stand in opposition to them and deny them a victory. Gardner is the weak link. He needs to be niggled. Irritate him enough and he’ll turn on even his most trusted advisers and loyal countrymen.” Zevitin thought for a moment, then added, “He needs to be irritated right now. The attack on our fighter…he needs to know how angry we are that they downed our fighter with a low-yield nuclear device.”

“But…the fighter was not downed,” Orlev reminded him, “and the general said the weapon was not a nuclear T-Ray weapon, but a—”

“For God’s sake, Peter, we’re not going to tell the Americans what we know, but what we believe,” Zevitin said, irritation in his voice but a smile on his face. “My reports state that they shot down our fighter with a T-Ray nuclear device, without provocation. That is an act of war. Get Gardner on the phone immediately.”

“Should Minister Hedrov make contact and—?”

“No, I will make the protest directly with Gardner,” Zevitin said. Orlev nodded and picked up the phone on Zevitin’s desk. “Not the regular phone, Peter. Use the ‘hot line.’ Voice and data both.” The emergency “hot line” between Washington and Moscow had been upgraded after the conflicts of 2004 to allow voice, data, and video communications between the two capitals, as well as teletype and facsimile, and also allowed for more satellite circuits that gave the leaders easier access to one another. “Minister Hedrov, you will file a formal complaint with the United Nations Security Council and the American State Department as well. And I want every media outlet on the planet given a report of the incident immediately.”

Orlev made the call to the foreign ministry first, then contacted the Kremlin signal officer to open the “hot line” for the president. “Sir, this could backfire,” Orlev warned as he waited for the connection. “Our pilot certainly initiated the attack by firing on the American bomber—”

“But only after the bomber launched their hypersonic missile,” Zevitin said. “That missile could’ve been headed anywhere. The Americans were clearly the aggressors. The pilot was fully justified in firing his missiles. It turns out he was correct, because the missile the Americans fired into Tehran carried a chemical warhead.”

“But—”

“The first reports may be proved inaccurate, Peter,” Zevitin said, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t protest this incident now. I believe Gardner will act first and then check out the facts. You wait and see.”

Alexandra Hedrov looked at Zevitin silently for a long moment; then: “What is this all about, Leonid? Do you just want to harass Gardner? What for? He is not worth the effort. He will more likely self-destruct without you constantly…how did you say, ‘niggled’ him. And certainly you cannot want Russia to align with and support the Iranians. As I said before, they are just as likely to turn on us after they retake their country.”

“This has absolutely nothing to do with Iran, Alexandra, and everything to do with Russia,” Zevitin said. “Russia will not be encircled and isolated any longer. Gryzlov was a megalomaniac, sure, but because of his insane ideas Russia was feared once more. But in their absolute fear, or pity, the world began to give the United States all it wanted, and that was to encircle and try to squash Russia again. I will not allow that to happen.”

“But how will deploying these anti-spacecraft weapons accomplish this?”

“You don’t understand, Alexandra — threatening war against the Americans will only serve to increase their resolve,” Zevitin explained. “Even a spineless fop like Gardner will fight if his back is forced against the wall — at the very least, he’ll turn his junkyard dog McLanahan loose on us, as much as he resents his power and determination.

“No, we must make the Americans themselves believe they are weak, that they must cooperate and negotiate with Russia to avoid war and disaster,” Zevitin went on. “Gardner’s hatred — and fear — of McLanahan is the key. To make himself look like the brave leader he can never be, I’m hoping Gardner will sacrifice his greatest general, dismantle his most advanced weapon systems, and retreat from important alliances and defensive commitments, all on the altar of international cooperation and world peace.”

“But why? To what end, Mr. President? Why risk war with the Americans like this?”

“Because I won’t stand to see Russia encircled,” Zevitin said sharply. “Just look at a damned map, Minister! Every former Warsaw Pact country is a member of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization; almost every former Soviet republic has a NATO or American base of some kind on it.”

Zevitin went to light up another cigarette, but threw them across his desk in blind anger. “We are wealthy beyond the dreams of our fathers, Alexandra, and yet we can’t spit without the Americans complaining, measuring, analyzing, or intercepting it,” he cried. “If I wake up and see that damned space station shooting across the sky—my Russian sky! — once more, I am going to scream!