Red War (Mitch Rapp #17)

The sound of his voice returned Krupin to the present. He’d spent his entire life beset by enemies. He’d fought wars. Influenced foreign elections. Amassed the greatest personal fortune in modern history. Survival and victory were simple questions of strength, cunning, and will.

He finally stood, meeting Fedkin’s eye. “I’ll need a detailed report on your proposed treatment protocols, their success rates, and their side effects. After I’ve reviewed that, we’ll discuss which procedures will be acceptable and which won’t.”

“Of course. I’ll start on it as soon as I get back to Moscow. I need to consult—”

“You won’t be going back to Moscow, Doctor. You’ll write the report here and any consultations or outside communications will have to be approved beforehand by me. Further, all the procedures will be done here.”

“Here? That’s not possible, sir. I—”

“It is possible, Doctor. Along with your report, I’ll expect a list of equipment and additional personnel that you’ll need.”

Fedkin didn’t seem to fully grasp what he was being told. “I have other patients, Mr. President. A family. And your procedures will be periodic. I can’t just stay in this place until the full course of your treatment is completed.”

“Let me be clear, Doctor. You’re not just staying here until my treatment is done. You’re staying here until I’m cured. If I’m harmed or killed by your therapies or if I die of my illness, you and your people will never leave this place.”





CHAPTER 12


THE WHITE HOUSE

WASHINGTON, D.C.

USA

“JUST us, sir?”

President Joshua Alexander flashed Kennedy the smile that had charmed millions and indicated toward one of the Oval Office’s sofas. She sat and reached for a cup of tea as he settled into a chair opposite.

More and more, their meetings were private affairs. As the country divided itself along ideological lines, the White House became increasingly prone to leaks. With her, Alexander could speak his mind without fear of his words being replayed on the news that evening. And she could do the same, though generally less colorfully.

In this case, though, it would have been advantageous to have his national security advisor and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs in attendance. Unfortunately, both were in Europe taking part in a massive NATO exercise centered on Poland.

“You’re on my list, Irene. You promised me Krupin would take it down a notch if I didn’t crucify him for the shit he pulled in Saudi Arabia. That was a nuclear attack on a sovereign nation and we had enough to lay in sanctions like the world’s never seen. But we didn’t. And now here we are.”

“I don’t recall promising anything, Mr. President.”

“Of course, not. You probably said something like ‘forgoing immediate retaliation could have advantages that might slightly outweigh the drawbacks. Over time. Maybe.’ You may be the master of the hedge, but I’m the president of the United States. So I get to hear whatever I want.”

“One of the benefits of the office?”

“This office has benefits?”

She smiled and took a sip of her tea. “What he tried to do in Saudi Arabia was an act of desperation, Mr. President. Krupin bet a lot on the success of that operation, and when Mitch stopped him, it weakened his grip on power. I’m still convinced that it wasn’t the time to press our advantage.”

“Looking at it from the opposite perspective, I might say that pressing your advantage when your opponent’s weak and desperate is how you win.”

Alexander had been a talented quarterback in college and while he normally held an admirably nuanced worldview, some of the hyper-competitive athlete remained.

“Unless your opponent is guarding the end zone with nuclear weapons.”

“I’m impressed.” His smile looked a bit forced this time. “I would have bet that you wouldn’t know an end zone from a hole in the ground.”

“I try to stay informed on a wide variety of subjects.”

“Yeah? Then tell me what the hell’s going on in Russia.”

It was both the question that she was here to answer and the question she most dreaded.

“We don’t know.”

The silence between them stretched out for a few seconds before the president broke it. “That’s it? You don’t know?”

“Our analysts and our people on the ground are working around the clock but haven’t been able find anything unusual happening in Russia. It’s a country in a slow, but relatively steady, decline. Certainly, Krupin is losing some support as his older constituency dies off, but it’s not really a threat to his position. Obviously, the Europeans are making noises about accepting Ukraine into NATO, but considering the Russian presence in that country and your opposition, it’s more posturing than—”

“But this isn’t business as usual, Irene. The crackdowns on protesters, the attack on Azarov, the sudden jailing of his main rival. And now I’m hearing that his prime minister is going on an impromptu goodwill tour with no known agenda. Chaos isn’t how Krupin operates. He hates it.”

She nodded in agreement. “You called this meeting, so I’m a little embarrassed to ask this but . . .” Her voice faded.

“What?”

“Well, sir, while your experience is different than Krupin’s, you’re a very good politician who’s managed to maintain power in a large, complex country.”

“Hold on now. You’re telling me you came here to listen to what I think?”

“I did.”

He sank back into his chair and looked through the windows at the softening evening sun. “As the number of his supporters declines, he needs to increase the intensity of support from the ones he has left. Because of that, there’s no way he can let Ukraine go to NATO. His entire persona is as a tough guy who scares the shit out of the rest of the world. He’s not capable of making Russia stronger, so he has to make everyone else weaker. I’m sorry to say that it’s human nature. People don’t want their lives improved. They want the lives of people they hate made worse.”

“So that explains the troop movement we’ve been seeing,” Kennedy said. “But what about the crackdown on the protest in Red Square?”

“I can’t explain that. Sure, his hardcore supporters would get a thrill from seeing the police bust a bunch of young liberal heads, but the blowback—both internal and external—would hit hard. The Krupin I know is a calculator. His gift is his ability to keep his incredibly complicated corruption machine humming along smoothly. He doesn’t care about Russia or his people or his family and friends. All he cares about is staying in power. And it’s hard to blame him. My retirement’s going to be about getting paid half a million dollars to make a speech and playing too much golf. He’s made too many enemies for that. More likely he’ll end up with a bullet in the head or in jail.”

“What about Prime Minister Utkin? Odd to send him on a tour so abruptly. We’re concerned it could be a distraction. Maybe he’s reinforcing his position in Ukraine for more than show. It’s possible he’s building a force that could move north and take control of the country.”

Alexander frowned. “My gut says no. This isn’t about Russia. It’s about Utkin. Krupin’s allowed the press to go after him and now he’s going to make it look like he’s turning tail. The question is, why? Sure, Utkin is more popular with young people, but nowhere near powerful enough to challenge Krupin. The only real threat to Krupin is time, Irene. He’s not going to be able to hold on to that country forever and he doesn’t seem to have an exit strategy. Ideally, he’d pass the crown to a relative and they’d protect him. But he isn’t a king. He’s a dictator in a country that’s hard to keep your arms around.”

“So we end where we started,” Kennedy said. “With erratic behavior from the least erratic man alive.”

“I hate to even suggest this because it’s so terrifying, but could he be losing his mind?”