Crimea to remove that peninsula as a source of conflict. They’re not licked yet, Coyote thought with a flash of pride. Not if they can still joke about it.
They were going to need a sense of humor to sustain them for these next few days. Nothing, not defeat, not fear, not the threat of an enemy attack, sapped a unit’s morale like being left hanging in the breeze by one’s own superiors in the chain of command.
What the hell are they thinking about in Washington? he wondered.
CHAPTER 21
In silence, the men and women at the table watched the screen, where the hard, drawn-looking face of Vice-Admiral Dmitriev was looking back. He was sitting in a somewhat shabby-looking office, his hands carefully folded on the desk in front of him. He was speaking English ? very good English, with only a trace of an accent ? and he was speaking deliberately and with evident precision.
“Accordingly,” he was saying, “I am assuming command of the Crimean Military District. General Boychenko has been declared an enemy of the state and will be arrested as a traitor as soon as he can be found.
“American forces in the Black Sea area of operations, specifically the aircraft carrier Thomas Jefferson and the battle group with it, have been neutralized. This was necessary because they had already established contact with the traitor Boychenko and were intervening in Russian internal and security affairs.”
Admiral Thomas Magruder listened to the tape, like the others, with no outward show of emotions, but he felt a sharp pang of worry. His nephew, the last he’d heard, had gone ashore with a party of Navy and UN personnel to prepare the way for Admiral Tarrant to receive the surrender of the Crimea and, as far as he knew, they were still ashore, trapped by Dmitriev’s coup.
Within twenty-four hours of the attack on the Bosporus bridge, this tape had been delivered to the White House by the Russian embassy in Washington. The President had seen it. His advisory group was reviewing it, looking for answers to seemingly unanswerable questions.
“We wish to stress that we have not intentionally fired upon American ships,” Dmitriev’s image continued. “The tanker sunk during the attack on the Bosporus bridge was attacked by accident… much as happened to the American helicopter in Georgia a few days ago. We apologize for that incident. We have also just recently learned that one of your helicopters was destroyed on the ground near Yalta. Again, that was a case of mistaken identity. We regret these attacks and stress that they were accidents, the products of the well-known fog of water.
“At the same time, however, we must stress our resolve. These are dangerous times for our government, for the safety of our people, our land. We cannot allow foreign powers to hinder our great purpose or to intervene in our internal affairs.”
“Watch it,” Herb Waring said, speaking quickly as the figure on the screen paused to draw breath. “Here it comes.”
“But we do… have a proposition for you,” Dmitriev continued. “One that we hope you will be inclined to accept, Mr. President, as a means for both of us to resolve this unfortunate and unnecessary confrontation in which we find ourselves. Boychenko’s mistake, his treason, was in handing over sovereign Russian territory to foreigners, hoping that they would guarantee the Crimea’s security. This, you must understand, is no different a situation than if one of your generals turned, say, Florida over to Russian forces for safekeeping.
“But we can work together. We should work together, in the interests of world peace. In fact, we would welcome your help fighting against the Ukrainian invasion when it comes. There is an excellent possibility, Mr. President, that simply the presence of your carrier battle group in our waters, coupled with your declaration to stand by the rightful, popularly elected government of the Crimea, will be enough to discourage Ukrainian aggression.
“I would also remind you of the Ukrainian genocide already committed against Russian citizens in eastern Ukraine. If they are allowed to invade the Crimea, I can only expect that-“
“Shut that thing off,” Samantha Reed said. This was the third time they’d played the tape through, and by now they were beginning to know large parts of it by heart.
“The rest of it’s flag-waving and grandstanding,” Secretary of State Heideman said. “With a fair amount of heart-thumping thrown in gratis.”
“The guy’s insane,” Waring said, shaking his head. “The President would never go for something like this.”
“I don’t know,” Reed said thoughtfully. “We should at least consider the offer. Discuss it. It may be the only viable option we have.”
“Excuse me,” Admiral Scott said sharply, “but did I just hear that tin-plated neo-Communist dictator try to extort American military help? Those bastards just hijacked an entire carrier battle group and a Marine Expeditionary Unit and are holding them and something like thirty thousand of our men and women hostage! We do not make deals with terrorists!”
“Of course we do, Admiral,” Reed said testily. “We do it all the time.
We just cloak the reality behind negotiations and settlements and new breakthroughs in the peace process.”
“Good God, Madam Secretary-“
“Now hear me out!” Reed insisted. “This may not be the disaster the rest of you are making it out to be.”
“What?” Scott said. “Is this a new way you have of cutting back the Defense Department? Give our carriers to the Russians?”
“Admiral, I will remind you that you work for me! If you can’t accept that, if you can’t live with my standards, then you are welcome to tender your resignation.”
“No, ma’am,” Scott replied, his jaw stubbornly set. “You’re going to have to fire me, because right now it looks to me like I’m the only one looking out for the interests of our people over there.”
“Our people should be safe enough, Admiral,” Waring said. “Dmitriev’s not crazy enough to launch an attack on a carrier group, not as weak as his forces are right now. All our boys need to do is sit tight… maybe withdraw to a Turkish Black Sea port, and they’ll be fine.”
“Has anyone bothered to ask the Turks what they think of that?” Lloyd said quietly.
“They still refuse to admit our ships into their waters,” Heideman said glumly. “We have people talking to them. They’ll see reason, we think, but it might take time.”
“That’s not likely,” Scott said. “Damn it, they have a war on their hands now. Don’t you see? Russia just attacked Turkish territory. What… Roger? How many civilians died in that attack?”
“Last number I saw was eight hundred,” Lloyd replied. “That’ll go up, though. They’re still fishing bodies out of the Bosporus.”
“Well, why are the Turks mad at us?” Reed wanted to know. She spread her hands. “This puts us and the Turks in the same boat. Russia attacked both of us!”
“They, ah, may think that we provoked that attack, Madam Secretary,” Heideman said carefully. “They may be trying to distance themselves for that reason.”
Scott snorted rudely. “Ankara may also still want to salvage their relationship with the Russians.”
Lloyd nodded. “The admiral’s right. Remember, the Turks need the Russians to help control the Kurd arms- smuggling on their border. There are factions in the Turkish government that would accept a Russian apology for the ‘accident’ on the Bosporus in exchange for an air strike or two against Kurdish camps in Armenia.”
“So where do we stand, then?” Reed wanted to know. “You’re telling me there’s no way we can get through and resupply them?”
Scott looked at Magruder and nodded. Magruder pulled a sheaf of plastic binders from his briefcase and passed them out to the others at the table. “These, Madam Secretary,” he said, “are our estimates of the CBG’s
