“The disruption is still significant,” Gorsky was quick to add. “Electrical interruptions, the collapse of Internet traffic and the cellular netw—”
“Most of the electrical interruptions were only temporary,” Sokolov interrupted. “We’re estimating that the enemy controls power in more than three-quarters of our operating theater. There’s also evidence of a telephone landline system that we weren’t aware of. Emergency radio is operating as are a number of cable stations. They’re using those capabilities to organize a reaction that’s surprisingly far-reaching.”
“How so?” Krupin said.
“Residents are evacuating to rural areas in an extremely orderly fashion. It appears that our troops will arrive to find their major objectives abandoned.”
“I was told that the cyberattacks were veiled as ransomware,” Krupin said, struggling to understand what he was being told, even with his stimulant-enhanced mind. “Millions of people are abandoning their homes over hacking that you just said wasn’t even particularly effective?”
“There’s more,” Gorsky said. “It’s not just the cities that are emptying. It’s the military bases. Soldiers are abandoning their uniforms and disappearing into the countryside with their equipment and crews. Perhaps worse, virtually every warplane in the Baltics is in the air and on course to bases across the Polish border.”
“Have we moved into Baltic territory without my orders?”
“No, sir,” his ground force commander said. “We’ve made no threatening moves that could telegraph our intentions.”
“What’s the status of NATO?”
“The forces withdrawing from the exercises in Poland are turning around and supply lines are being reestablished,” Sokolov said. “Again unexpected, but too little too late.”
“We’re also seeing an increase in naval activity,” Admiral Vladimir Zhabin said. “Two American carrier groups are moving in the direction of the Baltic while another two are on their way to the Barents Sea. We’ve also logged an unusual amount of submarine activity near our territorial waters and an additional British destroyer entering the Black Sea. Concentrations of European warships in the Mediterranean are—”
“Another meaningless display of hardware,” Sokolov said disparagingly. “We aren’t fighting a naval battle.”
His words ignited another argument between the commanders that Krupin only half listened to. Instead, he struggled to analyze the facts he’d just been provided. Had he been betrayed? Had one of the few officers who knew of the Baltic gambit leaked his intentions to the Americans? Far more dangerous, was it possible that the Americans suspected that he was ill? Had Irene Kennedy discovered a clue he had carelessly left behind?
“Enough!” Krupin said finally, silencing the men. “What does all this mean for our tactical situation?”
Gorsky spoke immediately, clearly trying to wrest control from Sokolov. “It leaves our plans in tatters, Mr. President. We’re facing a protracted guerrilla war against formidable opponents operating in their own territory. Further, it’s likely that the Balkan air forces will mount nightly raids and then retreat back across the Polish border. Their bases and runways will be out of our reach unless we’re willing to push into Poland, a move that would catastrophically overextend our resources.”
Admiral Zhabin was the next to speak, seeming to have derived some courage from his more forthright colleague. “If the Americans decide to take the Baltic Sea, they’d be in position to supply a significant insurgency. We can resist to the last man, but the outcome is preordained. Their naval budget is significantly higher than our entire annual spending on defense.”
“We could use ground-based weapons systems to target their ships—” Sokolov started, but Gorsky dared to cut him off.
“Our supply of those kinds of weapons in the Baltics will be extremely limited at the outset and launching missiles from Russian territory would invite direct retaliation. At that point, all pretense would be lost. Russia would be at war with the West.”
“They wouldn’t dare!” Sokolov shouted. “We have tactical nuclear weapons that could wipe out every major city in Europe over the course of a few minutes.”
“Are we now talking about a nuclear war?” Gorsky said, matching the volume of Sokolov’s voice. “Over the annexation of three countries that pose no immediate threat to us? Have you gone insane?”
“You’re relieved,” Krupin said.
The impact was somewhat less than expected. Gorsky simply gave a jerky nod of acknowledgment instead of respect and then walked out. His gait suggested more relief than humiliation.
“Recommendations?” Krupin said, turning his attention to the map built into the table in front of him.
“Abort and reassess,” the leader of his ground forces said. “We can blame the cyberattack on independent hackers and our forces have done nothing provocative. In fact, we can protest the unannounced extension of NATO’s Poland exercises and the sudden increase in American naval activity. More examples of unprovoked aggression against the motherland.”
Krupin considered the man’s words for a moment and then just shook his head. “Get out. All of you.”
His remaining commanders filed through the door and he waited for it to close before he spoke again.
“What are the Americans playing at, Andrei?”
Sokolov folded his arms across his chest and looked around the empty room. “The governments of the Baltic states were more clever than we gave them credit for. What we saw as corruption and waste in their military spending now appears to have been the diversion of funds into creating an asymmetric capability.”
“Did it work?”
“Given another set of circumstances, perhaps. But the immediate threat to you isn’t from the Americans or the Europeans. It’s from the men who just left this room and their allies. It’s from Prime Minister Utkin, who is out of the country but still very much in contact with his supporters inside our borders. It’s from Roman Pasternak, whose followers are demonstrating for his release from prison.”
“I agree that we need to keep my internal enemies off-balance, but does an endless insurgency fought across three separate countries accomplish that?”
“These insurgents would be nothing more than terrorists killing our troops in cowardly ambushes. We’d crush them and use the Russian media to show them for what they are.”
Krupin looked into the eyes of his most loyal disciple and saw the nationalistic fervor burning in them. He was in many ways unique. A man of great personal strength but not great personal ambition. A man who lived only to serve the glory of Russia and to see its power extend throughout the world. These traits made him extraordinarily useful, but also twisted his perceptions. He believed that with a sufficient show of military resolve, the world would suddenly awaken to the reality of Russia’s inherent superiority. Krupin, on the other hand, had no such delusions.
A bloody, protracted war would siphon their resources and national will. The Americans would keep their actions just below the threshold that would justify a large scale response. They would smuggle supplies, advisors, and special operations teams. They would engineer ever more crushing economic sanctions. And they would pull Europe together and rebuild their military capability. The Russian people would find their lives adversely impacted and would look for someone to blame. Even with the skillful use of the media, it was impossible to imagine that he wouldn’t become the target of their rage.
“We need a quick, decisive victory, Andrei. Not a slow-moving disaster.”
“The situation has changed,” Sokolov admitted. “We’ll win, but the fight will be more difficult than we anticipated. In the end, that’s the nature of war.”
“Unacceptable.”