reasons. Not all of them, by any means. Without the English, supporting Norway is damned near impossible. The nearest air base we’ve got is Keflavik in Iceland, and that’s just not enough to close the GIUK gap, much less help out in Norway.”
“You’re still pushing for that, eh, George?” Connally said, raising an eyebrow. “If it’s such a lost cause, why should we get involved now?”
“Mr. President, we’re already involved. The incident this morning — the skirmish between our aircraft and the Russian recon flight — will guarantee that much.” Scott looked grim as he spoke. “Unless you’re ready to back down publicly in front of the Russians — and I mean the whole nine yards, public apologies, acceptance of their exclusion zone, everything — then we’re in this war up to our necks as of today.”
“Do the rest of you feel this way?” Connally asked.
Vane and Waring nodded. Vincent DuVall, the Director of the CIA, shrugged. “That’s our best estimate, Mr. President,” he said.
“Well, I don’t agree,” West said. “I think all of you are a little too ready to see the old Russian bogeyman lurking in the shadows again. We could stop this crisis right now if we would just give diplomacy time to work.”
Secretary of State Robert Heideman looked up. “The Soviet Ambassador was willing to arrange a conference on Norway when I talked to him last night,” he said. “Unless this incident with the Tu-95 gets in the way, we still have a foot in the door for some kind of peaceful settlement.”
“Sure,” Vane said harshly. “And in the two or three weeks it takes to get the conference rolling, Lindstrom’s people get the crap kicked out of them and the Russians occupy the rest of Norway. When are you people in State going to wake up and smell the smog? Diplomacy works best when you can back it up with firepower. Just compare the Carter era to the Reagan years. Ronald Reagan put an end to the Cold War, Bob, even if it was Gorby who got the awards.”
“I said I didn’t want a goddamned debate!” Connally exploded. They had covered this same ground over and over again since the start of the crisis. “Admiral, when you said we needed to show the flag in the Norwegian Sea I went along with it. Now it looks like your precious career has landed us in the middle of the war. But before we go any farther I need to know just what you think those men can accomplish. You tell me Lindstrom’s not going to hold out, that without British or German help we can’t deal with the Russian invasion. So why should I let your people proceed if things are as bleak as you people have been painting them?”
“Let me answer that one, Mr. President,” Vane said. “The time has come to quit thinking in terms of incremental jumps. We can’t just keep on reacting to each new Russian move, We’ve got to take the initiative.”
“How?” West demanded.
“I think our forces should go to DefCon Two immediately,” Van said. “Start mobilizing a strike fleet and a Marine Expeditionary Brigade right away, and put the 101st and the 82nd on alert. As soon as possible we need to start putting men into Norway.”
“That’s suicide!” Heideman protested. “While they have air superiority in Scandinavia we can’t possibly get the Army in place.”
“Glad to hear you understand that much,” Vane commented coldly. “We’ll also need to ferry air units into the Bergen area as quickly as possible so we have a chance to even out the odds a little.”
“Won’t all this take time?” Connally asked.
“Absolutely. Too damned much time. It’ll take days just to get the first planes in. There weren’t that many serviceable air bases in Norway when all this started … it’ll be worse now that the Soviets have had a chance to bomb Out the runways they’ve still got. And that’s why we need the Jefferson in those waters now more than ever, Mr. President. Just by being there she’s a distraction the Soviets will have to deal with. And every day, every hour she delays the advance on Bergen by keeping the Russians occupied out at sea makes our intervention more viable.”
Connally looked around the table. His eyes found the “football” at its place next to him. “So no matter how hard we try, it comes down to all-out war,” he said quietly. “is Norway really worth the risk of a nuclear exchange?”
It was Scott who answered him. “If you’re going to ask that question, Mr. President, then you might as well be prepared to resign now and let the Soviets have the entire world. It’s easy to argue that a given country isn’t really worth all that much. Norway’s not that large or that rich. So let it fall. Then what happens? Will you risk a nuclear war over Germany? Or France? What about Great Britain? These days they aren’t even our close allies. Will you risk nuclear confrontation over our right to freedom of the seas? The Russians want to keep us out of the Norwegian Sea now. What if they renew their ties with Havana and try to restrict our access to the Caribbean next?” He pointed to the map. “The only place to draw the line is at the first victim, Mr. President. Whether you’re protecting oil in Kuwait or ice and snow in Norway. Because the only alternative is to abdicate our responsibility. Not as world policemen. As a free part of the world community. It’s too late to resist a tyrant when he’s knocking on your own door.”
Scott fell silent, and no one answered him. Finally Connally stood slowly. “Very well, you’ve made your point. Order DefCon Two, and begin drawing up a plan to support the Norwegians.” He paused. “And God help us.”
CHAPTER 12
“How could I predict what that fool Terekhov would do, Comrade Admiral?” Captain First Rank Fyodor Arturovich Glushko asked. He was uncomfortably aware of the note of pleading that had crept into his voice. “If he had obeyed his instructions-“
“The transcripts of the radio traffic with Misha show that he did obey those orders,” Admiral Khenkin said harshly. The heavyset, gray-haired fleet commander leaned across Glushko’s desk, his bluff peasant’s face flushed. “If you had spent more time reviewing them, or better yet actually listening to the transmissions as they occurred, you would be aware of this.”
Glushko stiffened, his face a studied blank that hid the churning emotions within him. It was almost unheard of for an admiral to seek out a subordinate in his own office, especially so early in the morning and with so few minutes left before a major mission briefing. But Khenkin had come to the air wing office today, and Glushko didn’t need the flag officer’s angry words to tell him that his career, maybe even his life, hung by a thread this morning.
It was not fair. For all of his adult life Glushko had played the game of Soviet Navy politics, and played it well. In the late Eighties he had commanded a squadron of Yak-38 V/STOL fighters operating from the Baku, but he had seen where the winds of change were leading the Navy and volunteered for training with the first wave of pilots at the flight deck mock-up at Saki airfield in the Crimea. Flying Su-27s off the deck of the fleet’s first true carrier back when it was still known as the Kuznetsov, he had been in an enviable position as one of the Union’s pioneer naval aviators, and that had stood Glushko in good stead.
Now he was commander of the air wing assigned to the Soyuz, and well-positioned to advance further. Operation Rurik’s Hammer offered him a superb chance to attract favorable notice, though as air wing commander he was relegated more to an administrative role than to the kind of combat duty that might really make his reputation. As a result he had focused his attention on winning over staff and political officers who could make sure that his name would receive prominent notice when the campaign was through. After all, once the Norwegians had been overcome and the conflict was over, there would be plenty of room at the top for deserving officers. General Vorobyev would see to that as he began to consolidate his domination of the new Russia.
Now all of Glushko’s efforts were threatened. He had not exactly neglected his responsibilities as air wing commander, but he had delegated much of the responsibility to juniors. Ordinarily it would have been perfectly acceptable … except for the horrible set of circumstances the day before that had culminated in the loss of a Tu-95
