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WE HAVE APPREHENDED THE TERRORISTS AND DETERMINED THE EXTENT OF THE OPERATION....
"Is this possible?"
"Yes, I would say so," Golovko replied. "Daryaei is a fanatic. He loathes the Americans."
"Those barbarians barbarians tried to bait us into-" tried to bait us into-"
"Let them handle it," Golovko advised. "It is they who suffered the worst losses."
"You know what he will wish to do?"
"Yes, Comrade President, as do you."
PRESIDENT FOWLER:.
PENDING EXAMINATION OF THE EVIDENCE I WILL ACCEPT YOUR LAST COMMUNICATION AS FACT. WE WASH OUR HANDS OF THIS. WHATEVER ACTION YOU FEEL IS NECESSARY, WE WILL NOT OBJECT NOW OR IN THE FUTURE. THESE MADMEN WERE WILLING TO DESTROY US BOTH. To h.e.l.l WITH THEM.
"Christ, Andruska," Ryan murmured. That's a clear statement! That's a clear statement! The President read the message off the screen without a word. The President read the message off the screen without a word.
Ryan had been under the impression that Narmonov had kept control of his emotions, but now the reverse seemed to be true. Fowler sat rock-steady in his chair, surveying the room with calm eyes.
"The world will learn a lesson from this," Fowler said. "I'll make sure that n.o.body ever does this again."
Another phone line went off. "Mr. President, FBI, sir."
"Yes?"
"Mr. President, this is Murray, we've just had a flash from the Bundeskriminalamt Bundeskriminalamt-that's the German Federal Criminal Police-that they've found the body of one Gunther Bock in eastern Berlin, dressed in the uniform of a Russian army colonel. There were nine others similarly dressed, one of whom is believed to be a former colonel in the Stasi. The data we got from Qati and the other one is confirmed on that side, sir."
"Murray, I want an opinion. Are you confident in the confessions?"
"Sir, generally speaking, when we bag these guys they sing like canaries. It's not the Mafia, there's no law of omerta. omerta. " "
"Thank you, Mr. Murray." Fowler looked up at Ryan. "Well?"
"Sounds like we got good stuff from them."
"So we agree for once." Fowler punched his SAC b.u.t.ton. "General Fremont?"
"Yes, Mr. President?"
"How quickly can you re-target a missile. I want to attack a city in Iran."
"What?"
"I'll let Deputy Director Ryan explain."
"Those sons of b.i.t.c.hes." Fremont spoke for everyone in the room.
"Yes, General, and I intend to get the man who did this, and get him in a way that will send a message that n.o.body will ever forget. The leader of Iran has committed an act of war against the United States of America. I intend to reply exactly in proportion to his act. I want a missile targeted on Qum. How long will that take?"
"Ten minutes at least, sir, let me, uh, check with my operations people." CINC-SAC flipped off his microphone switch. "Christ."
"Pete," the Deputy Chief of Staff (Operations) said, "the man is right. That f.u.c.ker almost killed us all-us and the Russians! For profit, profit, for political for political profit!" profit!"
"I don't like it."
"You have to re-target the bird. I suggest a Minuteman-III out of Minot. The three RVs'll flatten the place. I'll need ten minutes."
Fremont nodded.
"Mr. President, you can wait."
"No, I'm not going to wait. Ryan, you know what they did, you know why they did it. It was an act of war-"
"An act of terrorism, sir."
"State-sponsored terrorism is war-your own position paper from six years ago said that!"
Jack had not known that Fowler'd read it, and being hoist on his own petard came as a surprise. "Well, yes, sir, I did say that, but-"
"That holy man holy man tried to kill tried to kill-did kill thousands of Americans, and tried to trick us and the Russians into killing two kill thousands of Americans, and tried to trick us and the Russians into killing two hundred million hundred million more! He almost succeeded." more! He almost succeeded."
"Yes, sir, that is also true, but-" Fowler cut him off with a raised hand and continued to speak in the placid voice of a man whose decision had been made.
"It was an act of war. I will reply in kind. That's decided. I'm the President. I'm the Commander-in-Chief. I am the one who evaluates and acts upon the safety and security of the United States. I decide what the military of this country does. This man slaughtered thousands of our citizens, and used a nuclear weapon to do it. I have decided that I will reply in kind. Under the Const.i.tution, that is my right, and my duty."
"Mr. President," van Damm spoke. "The American people-"
Fowler's anger appeared, but only briefly. "The American people will "The American people will demand demand that I act! that I act! But that's not the only reason. I must act. I must reply to this-just to make sure it never happens again!" But that's not the only reason. I must act. I must reply to this-just to make sure it never happens again!"
"Please think it through, sir."
"Arnold, I have."
Ryan looked over at Pete Connors and Helen D'Agustino. Both concealed their feelings with marvelous skill. The rest of the room approved of Fowler's purpose, and Jack already knew that he was not the one to reason with the man. He looked at the clock and wondered what would come next.
"Mr. President, this is General Fremont."
"I'm here, General."
"Sir, we have re-targeted a Minuteman-III missile in North Dakota for the target specified. I-sir, have you thought this through?"
"General, I am your Commander-in-Chief. Is the missile readied for launch?"
"Sir, the launch sequence will take about a minute from the time you give the order."
"The order is given."
"Sir, it's not that simple. I need an ID check. You've been briefed on the procedure, sir."
Fowler reached for his wallet and removed a plastic card, much like a credit card. On it were ten different eight-number groups. Only Fowler knew which one he was supposed to read.
"Three-Three-Six-Zero-Four-Two-Zero-Nine."
"Sir, I confirm your identification code. Next, Mr. President, the order must be confirmed."
"What?"
"Sir, the two-man rule applies. In the event of an overt attack, I can be the second man, but since that is not the case, someone on my list must confirm the order."
"I have my Chief of Staff right here."
"Sir, negative on that, the rule is that to be on the list you must be an elected official or one approved by Congress-the Senate, that is-like a cabinet secretary."
"I'm on the list," Jack said.
"Is that Dr. Ryan, DDCI?"
"Correct, General."
"Deputy Director Ryan, this is CINC-SAC," Fremont said in a voice that oddly mimicked the robotic one used to issue SAC orders. "Sir, I have received a nuclear-launch order. I need you to confirm that order, but first I also need to verify your ident.i.ty, sir. Could you please read your identification code?"
Jack reached for his own ID card and read off his code group. Ryan could hear Fremont or one of his people flipping through the pages of a book.
"Sir, I confirm your identification as Dr. John Patrick Ryan, Deputy Director of Central Intelligence."
Jack looked at Fowler. If he didn't do it, the President would just get someone else. It really was that simple, wasn't it? And was Fowler wrong-was he really wrong?
"It's my responsibility, Jack," Fowler said, standing at Ryan's side, resting his hand on Jack's shoulder. "You're just confirming it."
"Dr. Ryan, CINC-SAC here, I repeat, sir, I have a nuclear-launch order from the President, and I require confirmation, sir."
Ryan looked at his President, then leaned down to the microphone. He struggled for the breath to speak. "CINC-SAC, this is John Patrick Ryan. I am DDCI." Jack paused, then went on quickly: "Sir, I do not not confirm this order. I repeat, General, this is confirm this order. I repeat, General, this is not not a valid launch order. Acknowledge at once!" a valid launch order. Acknowledge at once!"
"Sir, I copy negative approval of the order."
"That is correct," Jack said, his voice growing stronger. "General, it is my duty to inform you that in my opinion the President is not, I repeat not in command of his faculties. I urge you to consider that if another launch order is attempted." Jack rested his hands on the desk, took a deep breath, and snapped back erect.
Fowler was slow to react, but when he did, he pressed his face against Jack's. "Ryan, I order you-"
Jack's emotions exploded one last time: "To do what? To kill a hundred thousand people-and why?"
"What they tried to do-"
"What you d.a.m.ned near let let them do!" Ryan jabbed a finger into the President's chest. "You're the one who f.u.c.ked up! You're the one who took us to the edge-and now the real reason you're willing to slaughter a whole city is because you're mad, because your pride is hurt, and you want to get even. You want to show them that n.o.body can push them do!" Ryan jabbed a finger into the President's chest. "You're the one who f.u.c.ked up! You're the one who took us to the edge-and now the real reason you're willing to slaughter a whole city is because you're mad, because your pride is hurt, and you want to get even. You want to show them that n.o.body can push you you around! around! That's the reason, isn't it? ISN'T IT?" That's the reason, isn't it? ISN'T IT?" Fowler went white. Ryan lowered his voice. "You need a better reason than that to kill people. I know. I've had to do that. I Fowler went white. Ryan lowered his voice. "You need a better reason than that to kill people. I know. I've had to do that. I have have killed people. You want this man killed, we can do it, but I'm not going to help you kill a hundred thousand others just to take out the one man you want." killed people. You want this man killed, we can do it, but I'm not going to help you kill a hundred thousand others just to take out the one man you want."
Ryan stepped back. He dropped his ID card on the desk and walked from the room.
"Jesus!" Chuck Timmons observed. They'd heard the entire exchange over the hot mike. Everyone in SAC headquarters had.
"Yeah," Fremont said. "Thank Him. But first deactivate that missile!" The Commander-in-Chief Strategic Air Command had to think for a moment. He couldn't remember if Congress was in session or not, but that was beside the point. He ordered his communications officer to place a call to the chairmen and ranking minority members of the Senate and House armed-services committees. When all four were on line, they'd stage a conference call with the Vice President, who was still aboard Kneecap.
"Jack?" Ryan turned.
"Yeah, Arnie?"
"Why?"
"That's why they have a two-man rule. There are a hundred thousand people in that city-probably more, I can't recall how big it is." Jack looked into the cold clear sky. "Not on my conscience. If we need Daryaei dead, there are other ways." Ryan blew smoke into the wind. "And that f.u.c.ker'll be just as dead."
"I think you were right. I want you to know that."
Jack turned. "Thank you, sir." A long pause. "Where's Liz, by the way?"
"Back in the cabin, under sedation. She didn't cut the mustard, did she?"
"Arnie, today n.o.body did. Mainly we were lucky. You can tell the President that I'm resigning effective-oh, Friday, I guess. Good a day as any. Someone else'll have to decide on the replacement."
The President's Chief of Staff was quiet for a moment, then brought things back to the main issue. "You know what you've just started here, don't you?"