“I didn’t come here to listen to excuses!” Sokolov shouted. “If there’s a question as to whether someone is a noncombatant or a member of the insurgency, you will treat them as the latter. If the Latvians are booby-trapping their homes, then we’ll burn them to the ground. Am I clear?”
His generals all looked at one another before his new air force commander dared to speak. “I know you’ve been traveling, sir, so can I assume you haven’t seen the international news in the last hour?”
Sokolov shook his head and the man tapped a few commands on a keyboard. The computerized map that made up the tabletop morphed into a video that looked like it had been taken with a mobile phone. It depicted a woman sobbing over the body of her husband as her children were forced to carry a crate from their barn. A Russian officer suddenly grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to a transport truck. He pointed to a dead soldier in the back and then threw her to the ground, drawing his sidearm as the video faded to black.
“Will President Krupin be joining us?” the director of Russia’s intelligence operations said. “Perhaps by phone?”
“He had other matters to attend to.”
“Other matters . . .” The man’s voice faded for a moment, but then came back stronger. “This video is only the first of many, General. Virtually the entire world opposes our invasion. That opposition will only grow in intensity.”
“This is war. Expecting the approval of our enemies seems a bit na?ve for a man in your position.
He bristled at the insult. “It’s not just our enemies, General. It’s our allies. This video is circulating through the Latvian population, turning the ethnic Russian population against us. And while we can keep it off the state controlled media, we can’t keep it off social media. Our population—and our troops—are already uncertain why we’re in Latvia and they fear the West’s retaliation.”
Sokolov felt his jaw tighten at the entirely accurate assessment of Russia’s troops. He hated the weakness of the new generation of soldiers. During World War II, Germany taught the world what could be accomplished with unwavering focus, efficiency, and ruthlessness. It was unimaginable what he could accomplish with the troops and leadership Hitler had enjoyed.
There was a sudden commotion in the far end of the room, and a navy captain ran toward them, pulling his commander aside and whispering urgently into his ear. Admiral Zhabin nodded calmly, finally giving a brief response that sent the man running back to his station.
“What is it?” Sokolov said.
It took a few seconds for him to find his voice. “NATO vessels have carried out a number of attacks on our navy. We’ve lost contact with three of our submarines and the Kuznetsov, our only aircraft carrier, is on its way to the bottom of the sea. Our destroyer the Ushakov—”
“The Kuznetsov?” Sokolov interrupted. “What are you talking about? It’s nowhere near the Baltic.”
“I didn’t say that our vessels in the Baltic were under attack,” the man countered. “I said our navy was under attack. We’re also seeing movements of American vessels toward our shores. I can only assume to cut off our retreat to Russian ports.”
Sokolov was momentarily stunned by the news. Why would the American president risk so much for a country that his constituency cared nothing about?
“You sound as though you’ve surrendered, Adm—”
“I have surrendered nothing!” the man shouted back. “My sailors have sunk at least one U.S. submarine and the HMS Diamond is burning. The battle continues and we’ll inflict heavy damage on the West, but we’re fighting a simultaneous war against four of the world’s most powerful navies. I can turn the Baltic into a graveyard but, by tomorrow, NATO will control it. As for the rest of our ships throughout the—”
“Do we have coastal batteries in place to support the navy?” Sokolov asked the commander of his ground forces.
“No. We’ve prioritized setting up defenses against NATO landing small teams and supplies. The—”
“What about Russian-based weapons?”
The man paused before answering. “We have significant capability, obviously. But we would have to carefully consider the rules of engagement when NATO inevitably retaliates against Russian soil.”
“The Europeans have heavy population concentrations within easy reach of our tactical nuclear weapons,” Sokolov said. “They won’t violate the sanctity of our border.”
“Enough of this,” Admiral Zhabin said, insinuating himself back into the conversation. “You say that President Krupin has other things to attend to. What? Hunting? Sunning himself by some mountain lake while you talk about starting a nuclear war with Europe? You don’t have the authority. Get Krupin on the phone. Now.”
The other generals did nothing to defend the chain of command, instead attempting to stare him down. Had this been planned? A mutiny? Unlikely, but his situation was still dire. Without Krupin’s direct involvement, this military campaign was in jeopardy. With it, though, the situation might be even worse. The president’s resolve was waning with his strength.
Sokolov motioned to three military policemen he’d brought in for just such an eventuality. One of them grabbed the admiral’s arm, but the old sailor shoved him back and marched straight-backed toward the door. Rebuked, the MPs followed meekly behind.
CHAPTER 44
BALTIC SEA “THIS thing just went pear-shaped,” the British submarine captain said, putting a hand on Rapp’s dripping back and guiding him down a narrow corridor. “We’re now engaged in a full-scale naval war.”
“Come again?” Rapp responded through chattering teeth. He’d won a number of triathlons in water around that temperature, but the fact that his wetsuit was hanging on a peg in his garage wasn’t ideal.
“NATO’s commander just ordered an attack on every targetable Russian navy vessel worldwide. The good news is that we caught them flatfooted and did some damage. The bad news is that they’re coming back at us hard.”
“Are you going to be able to get me where I’m going?”
“I’ve been ordered to do that or go to the bottom trying,” he said, stopping and slapping a door to his left. “Shower. Your gear’s inside.”
They shook hands and the captain started back along the corridor, calling over his shoulder as he went. “If you Agency boys have a plan to get us out of this, sooner would be better than later.”
Rapp entered the cramped shower room and pulled off his wet clothes. The salt was rinsed off in a few seconds, but he stayed beneath the hot stream of water until he stopped shaking.
Reluctantly, he finally stepped out and toweled off, wondering if at that moment they were being targeted by the Russians. No point in dwelling on things beyond his control, he reminded himself as he unzipped the duffel that had been left for him. Sea battles were the navy’s problem.
The bag was meticulously packed with a pair of clippers and a razor on top. There was a sticky note with the word beard inside a circle with a line through it. Claudia’s handwriting.
He left his facial hair on the floor and sink, then went back to the duffel. The next layer contained black jeans, a cotton shirt, and a pair of light hiking boots—all from his closet. The banged-up eyeglasses with clear lenses, though, were new to him. As was the brushed nickel ponytail holder in the shape of a peace sign.
Under other circumstances, he’d have actually gotten a laugh out of that.
Rapp put the glasses on and then went to toss the ponytail holder in the garbage. When he did, he saw that Claudia had scrawled something on the back.
Don’t throw this away.
Ignoring the advice, he returned to the duffel but didn’t find the weapon he was looking for. An unusual lack of thoroughness on her part. The Glock he’d brought with him to Latvia was now residing on the sea floor.
Rapp left the clothes from his swim on the floor and opened the door to the shower room. Two men passed and pressed their backs against the bulkhead in order to get around a woman wearing the uniform of a French naval officer. They struggled not to stare at her but Rapp didn’t bother to make the effort.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he said in French.