Russia, not just a military alliance, but the opening of all doors to economic development. America and Europe would partner with the Russian Federation, creating what could become both an open and integrated community to span the northern hemisphere. It stood to make Eduard Petrovich Grushavoy the Russian who brought his country a full century into the present/future of the world, and for all the statues of Lenin and Stalin that had been toppled, well, maybe some of his own likeness would be erected. It was a thought to appeal to a Russian politician. And after a few minutes, he extended his hand across the low table of tea things.
“The Russian Federation gladly accepts the offer of the United States of America. Together we once defeated the greatest threat to human culture. Perhaps we can do so again-better yet, together we may forestall it.”
“In that case, sir, I will report your agreement to my President.”
Adler checked his watch. It had taken twenty minutes. Damn, you could make history in a hurry when you had your act together, couldn’t you? He stood. “I must be off then to make my report.”
“Please convey my respects to President Ryan. We will do our best to be worthy allies to your country.”
“He and I have no doubts of that, Mr. President.” Adler shook hands with Golovko and walked to the door. Three minutes after that, he was back in his car and heading back to the airport. Once there, the aircraft had barely begun to taxi when he got on the secure satellite phone.
Mr. President?” Andrea said, coming up to Ryan just as the plenary session of the NATO chiefs was about to begin. She handed over the secure portable phone. ”It’s Secretary Adler.”
Ryan took the phone at once. “Scott? Jack here. What gives?”
“It’s a done deal, Jack.”
“Okay, now I have to sell it to these guys. Good job, Scott. Hurry back.”
“We’re rolling now, sir.” The line went dead. Ryan tossed the phone to Special Agent Price-O’Day.
“Good news?” she asked.
“Yep.” Ryan nodded and walked into the conference room.
“Mr. President.” Sir Basil Charleston came up to him. The chief of the British Secret Intelligence Service, he’d known Ryan longer than anyone else in the room had. One odd result of Ryan’s path to the Presidency was that the people who knew him best were all spooks, mainly NATO ones, and these found themselves advising their chiefs of government on how to deal with America. Sir Basil had served no less than five Prime Ministers of Her Majesty’s Government, but now he was in rather a higher position than before.
“Bas, how are you?”
“Doing quite well, thank you. May I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“Adler is in Moscow now. Can we know why?”
“How will your PM react to inviting Russia into NATO?”
That made Basil blink, Ryan saw. It wasn’t often that you could catch this guy unawares. Instantly, his mind went into overdrive to analyze the new situation. “China?” he asked after about six seconds.
Jack nodded. “Yeah. We may have some problems there.”
“Not going north, are they?”
“They’re thinking about it,” Ryan replied.
“How good is your information on that question?”
“You know about the Russian gold strike, right?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. President. Ivan’s been bloody lucky on both scores.”
“Our intel strike in Beijing is even better.”
“Indeed?” Charleston observed, letting Jack know that the SIS had also been pretty much shut out there.
“Indeed, Bas. It’s class-A information, and it has us worried. We’re hoping that pulling Russia into NATO can scare them off. Grushavoy just agreed on it. How do you suppose the rest of these folks will react to it?”
“They’ll react cautiously, but favorably, after they’ve had a chance to consider it.”
“Will Britain back us on this play?” Ryan asked.
“I must speak with the PM. I’ll let you know.” With that, Sir Basil walked over to where the British Prime Minister was chatting with the German Foreign Minister. Charleston dragged him off and spoke quietly into his ear. Instantly, the Prime Minister’s eyes, flaring a little wide, shot over to Ryan. The British PM was somewhat trapped, somewhat unpleasantly because of the surprise factor, but the substance of the trap was that Britain and America
“Jack, will you let us in on this development?”
“Insofar as I can. I may give Basil a little more on the side, but, yeah, Tony, this is for real, and we’re damned worried about it.”
“The gold and the oil?” the PM asked.
“They seem to think they’re in an economic box. They’re just about out of hard currency, and they’re hurting for oil and wheat.”
“You can’t make an arrangement for that?”
“After what they did? Congress would hang me from the nearest lamppost.”
“Quite,” the Brit had to agree. BBC had run its own news miniseries on human rights in the PRC, and the Chinese hadn’t come off very well. Indeed, despising China was the new European sport, which hadn’t helped their foreign-currency holdings at all. As China had trapped themselves, so the Western nations had been perversely co- opted into building the wall. The citizens of these democracies wouldn’t stand for economic or trade concessions any more than the Chinese Politburo could see its way to making the political sort. “Rather like Greek tragedy, isn’t it, Jack?”
“Yeah, Tony, and our tragic flaw is adherence to human rights. Hell of a situation, isn’t it?”
“And you’re hoping that bringing Russia into NATO will give them pause?”
“If there’s a better card to play, I haven’t seen it in my deck, man.”
“How set are they on the path?”
“Unknown. Our intelligence on this is very good, but we have to be careful making use of it. It could get people killed, and deny us the information we need.”
“Like our chap Penkovskiy in the 1960s.” One thing about Sir Basil, he knew how to educate his bosses on how the business of intelligence worked.
Ryan nodded, then proceeded with a little of his own disinformation. It was business, and Basil would understand: “Exactly. I can’t have that man’s life on my conscience, Tony, and so I have to treat this information very carefully.”
“Quite so, Jack. I understand fully.”
“Will you support us on this?”
The PM nodded at once. “Yes, old boy, we must, mustn’t we?”
“Thanks, pal.” Ryan patted him on the shoulder.
CHAPTER 44 The Shape of a New World Order
It took all day, lengthening what was supposed to have been a pro forma meeting of the NATO chiefs into a minor marathon. It took all of Scott Adler’s powers of persuasion to smooth things over with the various foreign ministers, but with the assistance of Britain, whose diplomacy had always been of the Rolls-Royce class, after four hours there was a head-nod-and-handshake agreement, and the diplomatic technicians were sent off to prepare the documents. All this was accomplished behind closed doors, with no opportunity for a press leak,
