conference either here or in New Delhi within the next six weeks.
The ambassador informed me that they will be presenting a motion to this effect before the United Nations this afternoon.”
Magruder digested this. “What are you planning to do about it, Mr. President?”
The man behind the desk sighed, his shoulders slumping. “There’s not a hell of a lot of choice, is there? Our whole national foreign policy is wedded to the Persian Gulf and the traffic there. Our entire history has been dedicated to freedom of the seas. I can’t back down on this … and they damn well know it.”
“Then they want a war with us?”
“I doubt it. My guess is they’re hoping to broker some sort of agreement where they become responsible for shipping in and out of the Gulf, maybe with us as junior partners. For the moment, though, they just want foreigners out of the Arabian Sea so they can prosecute their war with Pakistan.”
“The war.” Magruder gave a grim smile. “I’d just about forgotten about that.”
“Hell, the Pakistan war is what this is all about, Tom. India has always distrusted our relationship with Pakistan and probably thinks we’ll back Islamabad against them. If they can get us out of the way, they can blockade Karachi and not have to watch their backs.”
Magruder tugged at his ear. “They’re not giving you many options.”
The President looked up at the map across the room. “Well, there is one option.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“I had another visitor in here this morning. Crack of dawn. Anatoly Druzhinin, the Commonwealth representative. He made an interesting … offer.”
“And a highly questionable one, sir,” Hall said, breaking his silence.
The President gave his advisor a wan smile. “I know how you feel about it, George. You’ve told me. There doesn’t seem to be much choice, does there?”
“The Navy staff has been champing at the bit on this one, Mr. President.
Maybe they’re right. We don’t need the Russkies.”
“”Don’t need … ‘” Magruder’s eyes widened. “You mean the Russians are offering to help, sir?”
“They are indeed. Their Indian Ocean flotilla, SOVINDRON, is already enroute for Turban Station. They’ll be there late tomorrow afternoon, though their aircraft will be within range before that. The squadron is built around the Kreml, one of their two new nuclear-powered jobs.”
Kreml … Russian for Kremlin. Magruder blinked. He’d followed the available intelligence on what had been the Soviet nuclear carrier program for years, of course, but so far the Russian flattops had not ventured far from their own waters. He remembered the red line on the map at his back and realized that it must mark SOVINDRON’s position.
“Accompanying Kreml are six other warships of various types. An Oscar-class nuclear attack sub. A Kresta II cruiser. We think it’s the Marshal Timoshenko, but that hasn’t been confirmed yet. Two destroyers.
Two frigates. They’re suggesting we form a combined task force with their squadron and CBG-14 for the express purpose of pressuring India and Pakistan to back off. It would effectively double our force in the area … and demonstrate to India and Pakistan that there is a united world consensus behind this, well before the UN could do anything about it. We hope this might shake the UN into speeding things up. God knows, they don’t have much time.”
“Russians!” Magruder exploded. “Son of a bitch!”
“Do you have a problem with that, Admiral?”
Magruder was embarrassed. “Uh, no, sir. No problem. I’m just … surprised.”
The President grinned. “It surprised the hell out of me, I’ll tell you.” He glanced at Hall, who was frowning. “I’ve been told that the Russians are more interested in reestablishing their global reach than in stopping that war.”
“It’s possible, sir. They’ve lost a lot of prestige worldwide lately.”
“You’re right. And I agree. This is probably the best chance Moscow has had since the Persian Gulf War to let the world know that the Commonwealth can be a world-class superpower.”
“I also happen to believe they’d like to avoid a nuclear war that close to home,” the President continued. He leaned forward, his hands clasping in front of him. “You know, Tom, if this thing spreads, if it turns nuclear, South Asia could just fall apart. Never mind whether the war spreads to other countries or directly threatens our interests in the region. We’ll have vast areas of devastation from Afghanistan to central India. We’ll have people starving to death by the hundreds of millions! And hundreds of millions more will be on the move … looking for food, for clean water, for a place to escape the horror. Can you grasp numbers like that? I sure as hell can’t!
“My feeling is that the Russians have enough trouble inside their own borders right now without having to deal with starving refugees by the millions … or Islamic warlords stepping into the power vacuum and calling for some damned religious crusade … or clouds of fallout drifting north across the border. Did you know Uzbekistan grows most of the Commonwealth’s cotton? That some of their best wheat and livestock-raising lands are in Kazakhstan? My God, a nuclear war just a few hundred miles from their border could be a catastrophe for the whole damned country! They’re having enough economic problems without nuclear devastation to add to it.”
“And if things get worse in the Commonwealth,” Magruder began.
“They’ll get bad for us too. We’re looking at a situation as dangerous as anything in the Cold War days. Maybe worse!”
Admiral Magruder leaned forward in his chair. “I’m still not sure what a carrier task force could do out there, Mr. President. Even with two carriers on station.”
“That’s why I called you in here, Tom. Maybe you can give us some thoughts on the situation. The one hard idea that’s surfaced in the NSC meetings so far calls for air strikes against Indian supply routes. The Indians have got to be gambling on a fast end to their war. If we could delay them, maybe things would bog down and we could get them talking to each other instead of shooting. Certainly, if the Indian advance stalls, the Pakistanis will feel less inclined to start tossing nukes around.”
“Mr. President,” Hall said. “This is an incredibly dangerous move. It could also be a political disaster for-“
“Fuck politics, George!” The President stood suddenly behind his desk.
“We’re talking about trying to disarm two tough street kids before they burn down the block!”
Hall looked stunned. “Yes, sir.”
“Wait outside. I’ll buzz if I need you.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Hall left the room.
“At the risk of getting kicked out on my tail, Mr. President,” Magruder said, “Mr. Hall’s right. If we step in, with or without the Russians, it could touch a match to the powder keg. And if the Indians already think we’re allied with Pakistan, what are they going to think when we send a couple of A-6s in to bomb their troop convoys?”
“I know, Admiral. If you have a better idea, I’m certainly willing to listen.”
“Do you really think the Indians and the Pakistanis will back down if you threaten them with a couple of aircraft carriers, sir?”
“Pakistan will,” the President said. “I’ve been talking with their ambassador too. All they want is for the Indians to return to the borders. They insist they won’t do anything, ah, irrevocable, not until they’re up against the wall. After that …” He shrugged. “We have that long, anyway, to try. Right now, the big question mark is with our own people.” The President paused, then looked Magruder in the eye.
“What do you think they’ll say on the Jefferson if I order them to join forces with the Russkies?”
Magruder thought about it. “Can’t speak for Admiral Vaughn, Mr. President. I don’t really know him. Captain Fitzgerald might have a fit. But he’ll follow orders.”
“Will the battle group be able to work with the Russians?”
“Depends on a lot of things.” He thought about the question for a moment. The real unknown was the Russians. Moscow, he remembered, had openly supported the Indian-Sri Lankan Peace Zone proposal in the Indian Ocean, probably because they assumed that the idea would never work and it made a convenient point of Third- World-pleasing diplomatic opposition against the United States. Of course, a lot had changed in the world since Brezhnev’s day. “I guess it’s really up to the Russians,” he added. “Their willingness to exchange codes with us, stuff like that.
But for our part … Yes, sir. Our people will make it work.”
