They continued in silence through the city to an office park in the suburbs. It was intentionally nondescript, a place designed to house bookkeepers and host meetings about marketing laundry detergent. The only hint of its real purpose was the two guards monitoring the entrance to the underground parking garage. The uniforms were the expected ill-fitting polyester, but everything else about them screamed spec ops.
Coleman handed their passports through the window and after a careful examination the gate went up. Inside, a man armed with an MP5 waved them into a parking space and then waited for them to get out. He motioned for them to raise their hands to be searched but Rapp shook his head.
He seemed unsure what to do, finally calling someone on his radio. After a brief conversation in Latvian, he indicated for them to follow and led them into a sea of gray carpet, green walls, and drop ceilings.
The need for anonymity became clear when Rapp and Coleman entered a large conference room filled with people milling around nervously. As expected, Kennedy’s counterparts from Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia were there, as were a number of generals. The surprise was the presence of those country’s top politicians. Obviously President Alexander had made some personal calls.
Coleman knew a number of them from his consulting days and waded in, shaking hands and exchanging greetings. The former SEAL was received warmly but all eyes were on Rapp as he leaned back against a wall. The president of Latvia finally called the meeting to order and everyone settled into seats.
“I don’t know if any of you have met Mitch Rapp personally,” he said. “But I think we all know him by reputation. Also, I assume it’s been impressed on you that in the context of this discussion, he speaks for the American government.”
Rapp pushed himself off the wall and the focus on him intensified.
“How much have you been told about Russia’s military moves over the past weeks?”
“We know about the increasing threat to Ukraine,” Latvia’s president responded. “We assume that this meeting is about our potential involvement should that country be invaded. And while we’re sympathetic to their plight, we’re in a difficult situation with regard—”
“It’s not about that,” Rapp said.
The man fell silent with an expression that suggested he wasn’t accustomed to being interrupted.
“The Russians aren’t going to try to take the rest of Ukraine. That’s the good news. The bad news is that in about forty-eight hours, we expect them to mount a simultaneous invasion of your three countries.”
Not surprisingly, everyone started talking at once. Rapp held up a hand and they fell silent. “The Russians have been moving viable men and equipment from Ukraine to the forces on your borders. In the last twenty-four hours we’ve also seen a significant increase in Russian submarine activity in the Gulf of Finland.”
“I don’t understand,” the president of Estonia said. “This makes no sense. We’re NATO countries. I understand that Maxim Krupin has been behaving erratically recently but this would be insane. How could it possibly benefit him?”
A great deal of thought had been put into whether to tell them about Krupin’s illness and the decision had been to keep it quiet. It would almost certainly leak, which could generate a destabilization of Russia as Krupin and Sokolov faced off against their internal opponents. Kennedy and Alexander had decided that an invasion of the Baltics would be easier to handle than a full-scale meltdown at the Kremlin.
“We don’t know.”
“What are America and NATO going to do about this?” one of the generals demanded. “Our militaries are no match for Russian forces and we have only token foreign troops stationed here.”
“I’m not going to stand here and blow smoke up your ass,” Rapp responded. “NATO isn’t going to do anything. Krupin’s been smart. The fake troop buildup in Ukraine blinded us and the wind down of exercises in Poland has us off-balance. We—”
“Do you have proof of any of this?” the president of Estonia interrupted.
“That’s the problem with these kinds of things. The attacking force tends not to take out ads on TV. It’s unlikely that even their field commanders know yet. All this is being done under the cover of readiness exercises.”
“Then you’re just speculating.”
“This isn’t politics,” Rapp said. “Sticking you head in the sand and making fancy speeches isn’t going to do you any good when Russian tanks are rolling across your borders. Even if you don’t care about your countries, think about yourselves. Because Andrei Sokolov is going to line everyone in this room up against a wall and use you for target practice.”
“How long have you really known about this?” the Estonian president shouted. “Did you wait until the last minute to tell us so that you’d have an excuse not to live up to your agreement to protect us? America doesn’t want to involve itself in a fight in Europe. You want to fight amongst yourselves fueled by the Russian propaganda machine!”
“Calm down,” someone Rapp didn’t recognize said. “The Americans’ motivations are of little importance at this point. If what we’re being told is true, then we need to make plans.”
“Plans?” came the panicked response. “For NATO turning its back on us while the Russians invade? What—”
“You have a strategy that you developed in conjunction with the Agency and Scott’s company,” Rapp said, talking over the man. “We’re recommending that you implement it. The hope is that it’ll take away Krupin’s incentive to attack.”
A stunned silence descended over the room and all eyes slowly moved to a man sitting on the right side of the table. He was in his early sixties, wearing an army uniform that had been modified to accommodate the arm he’d lost years ago in battle. Rapp had dealt with him a few times in the past—a tough, smart military man with little patience for politics. His purpose in life was to defend his country and, like Rapp, he considered all other subjects too trivial to worry about.
“General Strazds?” the Latvian president prompted. “What do you think of all this?”
The man looked around the table and then at Rapp, collecting his thoughts before speaking.
“I have concerns. First let me say that I don’t think the Americans have been duplicitous in this and I think Mitch believes what he’s saying. However, what he’s asking us to do would largely destroy not just our political and military institutions, but our economies and much of our infrastructure. We created this contingency plan to face an imminent threat from the Russian—something we’re not seeing. The troops on our borders have become something of a permanent fixture and the movements from Ukraine can be explained any number of ways. I agree that Krupin has been unusually erratic lately, but a war with NATO? With all due respect to Mitch and Dr. Kennedy, this seems unlikely. Certainly too unlikely to purposely implode the Baltics. We’d be doing Krupin’s job for him, wouldn’t we? No need for him to spend a dime or lose a single man. We’d bring ourselves to our knees.”
“Obviously the NATO countries understand the sacrifice you’d be making,” Rapp said. “And we’re willing to commit to seeing the damage done to your countries put right. No matter how much it costs, it’d be cheaper than war.”
“I appreciate that, Mitch, but the damage you’re asking us to do won’t be so easily fixed and the other NATO countries have their own problems to deal with. I’m concerned about their actions matching their words.”
Rapp watched as the Baltic leadership nodded and whispered among themselves, knowing that he’d lost them. General Strazds was well respected for a reason and his analysis was dead on given the intel he was working with.
“I have a piece of information that I’ m not authorized to tell you,” Rapp said, silencing the group again. Coleman’s face fell and he used his finger to make a subtle slashing motion across his throat.
“Before I share it, I want to make something very clear. It’s not to leave this room. If it leaks, I’ll use all the Agency’s resources to track down which one of you was responsible and I’ll kill you.”