encourage speculation once it was leaked — inevitable now that Congress was involved.
“
Rubens rose from his seat as Marcke, Hadash, Blanders, and James Lincoln, the secretary of state, came in.
Followed by Collins.
“Ms. Collins,” said Rubens.
“NSA finally realized we were right, huh?” she said, smirking as she sat. The helicopter whipped upward.
“We’re headed for Camp David,” said the president. “I’m going to guess you can’t stay, Billy.”
Rubens hadn’t planned to, but could he afford to let Collins and the CIA have the president’s ear?
God, he thought to himself, what if Marcke is banging her?
“No, sir, I, uh, have a full agenda. Things are popping,” said Rubens.
“Next time,” said the president. He glanced at the television screen. “Mason announcing his inquiry, eh?”
Rubens nodded.
“You know, I think he’s related to
“Could be.”
“Mr. Rubens has data confirming the CIA assessment,” said Hadash.
“Go for it, Billy.”
“We’ve been studying intercepts relating to various troop movements, status states, that sort of thing. They’ve been building very slowly,” said Rubens. “And this lines up with the analysis by the CIA people. Which I’m sure the DDO could talk about if necessary.”
“I already have,” said Collins.
Would Marcke really give it to her? Rubens momentarily felt a wave of nausea.
“In the past few days, we harvested communications via an E-mail network used, at least until now, strictly by diplomatic personnel.” Rubens explained that the odd thing about the E-mails wasn’t the information — that was fairly routine — but the fact that they were so heavily encrypted in a back-channel or even off-channel communications line. He then ticked off indicators — fuel, leaves allowed, even the assignment of medical personnel to sick call — that showed all of the units were getting ready for some type of campaign.
As he spoke, he inserted his memory device into the keyboard in front of him and punched up the data on the screens.
“And it’s not a fresh move against the southern rebels?” asked Blanders.
“The units are mostly near Moscow and in Siberia,” said Rubens. “Two armored battalions have been moved within a twelve-hour drive of Moscow, and there’s another about the same distance outside of the dachas south of—”
“The southern units are also within range for an offensive in the Caucasus,” noted Blanders.
“True,” said Rubens. The defense secretary was a potential ally, and so Rubens made sure to concede the point graciously. “If it were just those units, I’d agree.”
“There is overlap with the units we tagged,” said Collins. “Of course, we have additional humint.”
She said “humint”—short for
Rubens brushed aside her attempt to steal back the spotlight. The CIA might have made the first guess, but the NSA had done the hard work to show what was really going on. “Most interestingly,” he said, “they’ve killed Laci Babinov.”
“Babinov is who?” asked the president.
“The leader of the riot police in Moscow,” said Hadash.
“Actually, the number two man, but he’s really the one in charge,” said Rubens. “He was on the aircraft shot down by the unmarked MiG.”
They all knew which plane he was talking about, so Rubens didn’t have to explain. Collins took another shot at bringing the attention back to the CIA by saying that two colonels who worked as military attaches in the Kremlin were missing from their posts, but the others ignored her.
Rubens had clearly supplied the key.
“It does line up,” said Hadash. “But who’s behind it?”
“Perovskaya,” said Collins. “Has to be.”
The defense minister was an obvious choice, and Rubens would have suggested Perovskaya himself if she hadn’t. But now he made a face. “No intercepts support that.”
“Who else could it be?”
“I don’t know, Christine, but until I have evidence, I can’t say.”
Using her first name was a slip and he knew it; Rubens went silent.
“What about the shootdown?” asked the secretary of state. “The plane was similar to yours. Maybe they simply thought it was another.”
“Doubtful,” said Rubens. Lincoln should not have known that the planes were similar. Who leaked that to him? Collins? But she shouldn’t have known, either.
Hadash? Blanders? The president?
“The Russian media are playing it as if it were an accident, and there were no intercepts at all about it,” said Rubens, subtly changing the subject. “No transmissions at all. Highly unusual. As far as we can tell, the MiG that shot it down didn’t even get a tower clearance to take off.”
“So the consensus is that the military, or part of the military, is planning to revolt,” said the president. “Do we know when the coup is planned for?”
“Impossible to know,” said Rubens.
“Within a week,” said Collins.
“What do we do?” asked the president. He pushed back in his seat.
“We should tell Kurakin,” said Lincoln. “Head it off.”
“That might not be enough,” said Collins.
“We should squash it,” said Rubens.
They all looked at him.
“You have a plan?” asked Hadash.
“No,” said Rubens. He saw Collins’ mouth twist — she did, or at least was going to claim she did. “Not a specific plan. But if we’re concerned about a coup, obviously we could interfere with it. Desk Three has the capability.”
Rubens knew he was overreaching, but he felt he had to stake out the ground quickly. Desk Three was supposed to be the country’s preeminent covert intelligence organization — it couldn’t afford to sit on the sidelines.
He wasn’t overreaching. Desk Three could disrupt communications among the different military groups quite easily. Providing the Russian president with real-time intelligence would be child’s play — they did it all the time for their action teams on the ground. The Russian president would have to do the heavy lifting himself, of course — but with judicious assistance, surely he would prevail.
“A coup would be disastrous,” said the secretary of state. “But we can’t get directly involved.”
“True,” said Hadash. “On the other hand, it would be very risky. We still don’t know exactly who’s behind the coup.”
“We’re working on it,” said Rubens.
“So are we,” said Collins.
“I can’t see helping Kurakin, or any Russian,” said Blan-ders. “It’s galling.”
“I don’t necessarily disagree on an emotional level,” said Rubens. “But of course, it may be to our advantage.”
“Maybe,” conceded Blanders, still clearly reluctant.
