Charles Taylor - Show of Force

As he rounded the corner from Kalinina Prospect onto Tschaikowskistrasse, he noticed the number of figures waiting outside had increased. They weren't hiding their faces, for it was simply their job to secure embassy personnel at this time. Collier recognized some faces, some very senior ones. He nodded to a few he passed since they had met socially before at functions, mumbled a couple of vagaries in Russian just so they would remember his capabilities. He hoped it might make some of them a bit uneasy.

The Marine guard at the door came to attention but did not salute, though tempted at this point. Specific orders to the Marine detachment included no salutes, to minimize the fact that military personnel were attached to the embassy. While everyone in both countries was aware of this, protocol made it easier to accept if a civilian approach was maintained. There were many employees up at this late hour, tidying up as much as possible, although the Moscow Fire Brigade couldn't have been nicer or more efficient. It was almost as if they had planned how to put out the fire on the eighth floor, even before it had begun. After discovery of the fire, they had waited until the. right amount of damage had been accomplished, no more than a few extra moments. The incendiary devices had been most efficient. The firemen arrived with the right equipment, extinguished the flames rapidly, took care not to interfere with anything that might upset the Americans, and left shortly after cleaning up after themselves and ensuring that the embassy wanted them to leave. A very neat operation… well planned!

Collier exchanged pleasantries with the staff members he saw. They were becoming increasingly nervous and didn't yet know they probably wouldn't be going home for some time. You can't keep an operation I'M this secret from a handpicked staff of their caliber. Yet he wondered which ones he talked with on his way to the elevator were also on another payroll.

He got off at his floor and was greeted immediately by the two marines on duty. Their smiles, after formalities, acknowledged that they considered him their officer-in-charge now that Hamlet was missing. Collier looked every inch a naval officer, right out of the recruiting posters. He was tall and slender, well over six feet and almost the same weight as the day he had been commissioned. His short dark crew cut had turned white, adding to the distinguished appearance emphasized by dark eyes, white teeth, and fairly square jaw. He looked the part of the heroic captain astride the bridge of a fighting ship, though he had rarely been at sea since his early days on the Bagley. His intelligence and quick mind, coupled with his wife's antipathy to sea duty, had brought him seniority through staff channels along with knowledge of the power structure that came with those assignments. The major now in command was an excellent officer, but he simply did not have the charisma to dominate these specially selected men that both Hamlet and Collier had.

"Has anyone else been on this floor, or attempted to get off the elevator, other than authorized personnel?" he asked.

"No, sir," the shorter one answered. "Just the change of the watch at midnight. All signatures and badges checked per your orders."

Collier had insisted that his marines be extra careful. It was just an added precaution with the confusion caused by the fire, to ensure as much as possible that the right people showed, that each one could match his signature to that on the card. Even more important, it was also to be sure no one else was missing.

He went through the motions of signing the book for the marines, showed his own badge, and then went across to the heavy metal door on the other side of the small room. He inserted his badge into the chest-high slot in the door. He then placed his right hand, palm forward, just to the right of the slot. A light glowed briefly under his palm, then the badge reappeared from the slot. He stepped back and the door opened slowly, Reattaching the badge to the lapel clip, he stepped inside, nodding to the marines who were on guard beyond the door. There were four people inside the room seated before the variety of electronic gear that glowed and blinked in the half light.

"Good morning, Admiral," one of them murmured. They continued with whatever intricate operations they were completing. The other three acknowledged his appearance respectfully, though none of them moved from their positions.

"I've just run a check with Jackson at the Pentagon, sir. He said that Admiral Carter will be available momentarily. Something big must be going on, because he said no one from his section was allowed to leave for lunch." It was now late afternoon in Washington. "He said food was sent in and that their reliefs were also called in this morning. Looks like no one's going to be going home there at the end of the day either." He turned to look at Collier questioningly.

"They're right, Cooper," Collier answered. "Before they're ready I suppose this is as good a time as any to bring you all up to date, since you're going to hear my conversation with Admiral Carter. We're already running into the same problem here." He wasn't quite sure where to start. After a momentary pause, he began, "From about now, we are all virtually prisoners in the embassy. The fires were started by parties within this building whom we can't yet identify. The reason was simple — they wanted to cut off all our outside communications and, as is obvious to 48»

each of you, they've been successful with the exception of this operation, which they're in the dark about.

"Their spy satellites over the last month have been watching the development of our base at Islas Piedras in the Indian Ocean very closely. While you all know a little about that island, it is not actually a Trident resupply base and was never intended to be."

"Well, I'll be damned," said one of them. "My brother's stationed there. What is it, sir?"

"It is a strategic base, armed with a new tactical missile that we hope to utilize to control that section of the world. One of us is going to end up on top, and it's better if it's us. The Russians have made strong inroads into control of the Indian Ocean and, from a strategic and economic viewpoint, we can't allow it, or the U.S. will be forced back pretty much to its own hemisphere. You know what that means."

"Yes, sir. We're shit out of luck!" Better than I could have said it, Collier thought.

"Before they could get accurate pictures of final installations, we employed a new weapon that has never been used before, a type of laser. Quite simply, it damages a satellite by neutralizing its.electronic equipment. There's no explosion. The satellite keeps right on its programmed course, but it simply is unable to take pictures or communicate with any ground stations. There is no way they can complain to the U.N. or prove anything to any of their allies. It appears to be a malfunction of a perfectly orbiting satellite, but it's no longer of any value to them. I don't exactly know where this weapon is or how many we have, but I do know that another satellite was neutralized from another location — just to let them know it wasn't a fluke and that we can destroy their electronic links at will." He paused for a moment to let it sink in. They were all disciplined career people, and there was little expression on their faces.

"I'm beginning to get the message. We're not going to be exactly welcome here, are we?"

"In about six hours," Collier continued, "the Chairman of the Communist Party will make a speech in the Kremlin, but it will be intended for all the world and broadcast internationally. He will state that Islas Piedras is a Trident submarine base established in a hitherto free sector of the world, that it is an invasion of the Third World, and an aggressive action that must be halted. He can't state what that island really is because their photos are incomplete and they aren't absolutely positive of what will be there when we're finished. In the meantime, he will ask that we remove that base completely. To back all this up, a huge Russian naval force left Vladivostok and Nakhodka almost two weeks ago and is now about twelve hours away from active contact with the island, although their submarines were in position two nights ago.