“That’s what Boychenko’s counting on,” Scott went on. “The only reason he’s decided to make this offer is the fact that he’s got a Ukrainian army knocking at his front door. The Ukrainians want the Crimea, and they want it bad. They want the prestige of controlling what they consider to be Ukrainian territory. They want the military supplies and materiel there. The bases, The ships of the Russian Black Sea Fleet that haven’t been seized or defected to them. Most especially, they want the Pobedonosnyy Rodina.”
“Excuse me?” Reed looked baffled.
“Pobedonosnyy Rodina, Madam Secretary,” Magruder offered. “It means “Victorious Motherland’ in Russian. That’s the name of the largest remaining ship in the Red fleet, a nuclear carrier as big as any of ours.”
“I thought we took out their carriers in the Norwegian War,” Waring said.
“We accounted for two out of three, sir,” Magruder said. “Kreml and Soyuz, their first two carriers. This one wasn’t ready for action when the fighting broke out in Norway, though. She was still undergoing sea trials in the Black Sea. You can be sure the Ukrainians would love to add her to their fleet. There’s nothing like a supercarrier to enhance a country’s image as a world power.”
“Unless it’s a nuclear arsenal,” Reed said, her mouth twisted in distaste. “Which Ukraine has, I might add. And Russia. All of this simply supports my argument, that we must intervene to maintain the peace.”
“What peace, Madam Secretary?” Scott demanded. “The whole area is tearing itself apart now.”
“Ukraine has not attacked yet,” she said. “By taking control of the Crimea, the UN will help ensure that the war does not spread. As it would if Ukraine attacked Russian possessions in the area. They would not risk angering the United Nations with an attack.”
“Madam Secretary,” Admiral Scott said wearily, “how can you possibly know what the Ukrainians will or will not do?”
“There are also humanitarian considerations at stake here,” Heideman said with a disdainful look at Scott. “The Ukrainian government seems to have embarked upon a program of ethnic cleansing against the non-Ukrainian population within their borders. A large number of ethnic Russians have been killed or driven out already. And the population of Crimea is mostly ethnic Russian. Allowing the Ukrainians to take over the Crimea unopposed would open the floodgates to genocide.”
“It would make Bosnia look like a picnic,” Reed added.
“So by allowing the Reds in the Crimea to surrender to the UN, we keep the Ukrainians out,” Waring said. “We stop a blood-bath, we reduce the risk of a general war between Ukraine and Russia, and we stop Kiev from seizing military assets in the Black Sea that could further destabilize the region. I’m not sure I understand your objection, Admiral Scott.”
“And think of the opportunity we have here,” Heideman said. “An historic opportunity! Since the end of World War II, we’ve been looking for a way to make the UN a strong voice for world peace, and this could be just what we need to do it. The picture of a Red officer surrendering to the United Nations, not to any one country but to the world itself, that would be a symbol that would count.”
Reed nodded. “I agree. For years now Admiral Scott and others like him have been telling us that the U.S. can’t keep playing the role of world policeman. That’s true. But it’s also true that the world needs a policeman, and the only way I can see us getting one is to give the UN both the power and the prestige to do the job. This would be an ideal first step.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Magruder said quietly. “You just might get it.”
Reed raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been quiet this morning, Admiral Magruder. I suppose you share Admiral Scott’s viewpoint in this? Military tradition and national sovereignty and historical precedent and all the rest?” There was a note of contempt in her voice. Of all the services, the Navy was widely known to be Reed’s pet peeve, and she made little effort to hide how she felt.
“I’m as much concerned with practical questions as I am with tradition and precedent, Madam Secretary,” Magruder said slowly, keeping his voice flat and emotionless. “Since Desert Storm, everyone’s looked on the UN as the ideal foundation for the “New World Order.’ But for most of its history the UN has been anything but a reliable friend to the United States. How many times did we have to impose our veto to protect our national interests, or our allies’?”
“That was in the Cold War, Admiral,” Heideman said. “Now that we’re the world’s only superpower, we’re in a much better position to influence the UN agenda.”
“And when China is powerful enough to influence the agenda, are we going to feel the same way? Or Japan? Or Europe? If the twentieth century has taught us anything, it’s the fleeting nature of power blocs and alliances and national status. Before World War I, England, France, and Germany were the world’s superpowers. Less than a hundred years have passed, and look at the world today. Major powers have come and gone, alliances have changed, priorities are different. The world has changed in ways they never could have imagined a century ago. And it will keep on changing. New World Orders may be politically fashionable now, but don’t gamble our freedom on short-term fashions that could change tomorrow!”
“Your fears are groundless,” Heideman said. “The UN would never intervene against the United States.”
“That’s right,” Reed said. “We’d still have our power of veto.”
Magruder paused, his fingers drumming the tabletop. “I wonder. Does anybody here remember when the UN passed sanctions against Australia to force them to overrule one of their state governments when it passed laws against sodomy?”
“It was an archaic attitude.”
“Madam Secretary, it was an internal matter that the UN blatantly decided to get involved in. They might just as well have decided to pass sanctions against us because of the antisodomy laws still on the books in Mississippi or Alabama. And the time could come when a United Nations with all this symbolic prestige and real military power you want to give it could turn that power against us for reasons that are just as trivial.”
“Admiral, I think we all take your point,” Waring said. “Certainly the question of giving the UN control over any part of our military forces is one we shouldn’t decide on hastily. But I think you’re overreacting when it comes to this Crimean matter. Frankly, the President is concerned about the buildup of tensions in this part of the world. He wants to send a message to the warring factions that this sort of anarchy can’t be tolerated, not when the rest of the world’s population could be at risk if this thing turns nuclear. Anything, anything that will defuse this unfortunate situation should be seriously considered.” He paused, frowning, then rapped twice on the tabletop. “I will recommend to the President that our battle group in the Black Sea be placed under UN command and cooperate with them in receiving the surrender of the Crimea.”
“Sir-” Admiral Scott began.
“That is all,” Waring said. “This meeting is adjurned.”
With a rustling of papers and the scraping of chairs, the men and women in the conference room began gathering their things and getting up from the table. Scott exchanged a long, weary look with Magruder. Neither man said anything, however.
One long-standing tradition of America’s military remained firm and unshaken, and that was the tradition of political control of the armed forces. Determining policy was the job of the politicians, not of the military; admirals and generals could advise, but when the policy decisions were handed down, it was their duty to shut up and carry out their orders.
Magruder just hoped that this wouldn’t turn out to be one policy decision that the United States would end up bitterly regretting.
CHAPTER 12
Jefferson’s main briefing room was part of CVIC, the Carrier Information Center, and, like the department, was generally known as “Civic.” It was located aft of Flag Plot, where the admiral in command of the battle group maintained his command center when he was aboard. Rows of folding chairs were set up facing one end of the room, which was dominated by a podium and a rear-screen projector. The walls were hung with artwork ? a large
