James Barrington - Overkill

‘What about the Spanish authorities?’ Richter asked.

‘The Minister will make sure they won’t give you any problems. At least, not if they still want anyone to be alive in Algeciras tomorrow night.’

Richter spent half an hour in the back of Lacomte’s Renault talking to FOE on a secure circuit. First he briefed the duty officer on the day’s events, then waited while he arranged a conference call which brought in Simpson and the Intelligence Director. Then they discussed the bomb at Gibraltar, and what they were going to need.

‘I don’t know what time the Herky-bird will get there,’ Richter said, ‘so we need Gibraltar airfield kept open until further notice. We’ll need accommodation of some sort there – HMS Rooke , the Naval base, would do nicely. We’ll need transport from the airfield to Rooke for twenty people, including the Hercules crew. At Rooke , we’ll need a conference room or similar as soon as we get there to conduct the final briefings and then, depending on where the freighter is moored, dories or inflatables or something to get us out to the ship. If it’s not at anchor they won’t be necessary, but we do need to know as soon as possible, so can you drag the Gibraltar harbour master out of whatever bar he’s in and ask him.’

‘Is that it?’ Simpson asked.

‘No,’ Richter said. ‘We’re sitting here by a French autoroute with a Russian nuclear weapon in the back of a lorry, and there are two things I want sorted out. That weapon, according to General Modin, is identical in most respects to the one in the hold of the freighter at Gibraltar. I want someone to come out here and show me how to disarm the bloody thing, so I know what colour wire to cut tomorrow morning.’

‘We’re way ahead of you,’ said Simpson. ‘We’ve had a team from Aldermaston on standby since you went to France. They’re on their way out to you now.’

‘Good. What’s their ETA?’

‘About seven thirty tonight, French time. They’re coming by road, because of the X-ray gear and other equipment they’re bringing.’

Richter thought for a moment. ‘Then you’re going to have to organize another aircraft to get me down to Gibraltar,’ he said. ‘The SAS will be leaving Northolt at seven, which means arrival at Reims about half an hour later, which is actually eight thirty French time, and my guess is they’ll just pick up the SAS guys here and head south. I doubt if the Aldermaston boffins can crack the system, and explain it to me in words of one syllable, in much less than two or three hours.’

‘Wait,’ said Simpson, and Richter could hear murmurs as he consulted with someone.

‘Right,’ he said, coming back on to the line. ‘We’ll have an RAF Tornado fly into Reims and wait there until you’re ready to go. You can fly down in the navigator’s seat.’

‘What about Diplomatic Clearance?’ the Intelligence Director said. ‘Technically, we’ll need—’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Simpson snapped, irritation evident in his tone. ‘Richter can get the DST to sort that out from the French end – right?’

‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ Richter said. ‘Lacomte has the ear of the Minister on this, for obvious reasons. If I’m flying in a Tornado,’ he added, ‘you’ll have to provide the RAF with my measurements for the flying suit – it has to be reasonably tight-fitting.’

‘Right. You said two things,’ Simpson said. ‘What’s the second?’

Richter told him, which produced a loud protest from the Intelligence Director. ‘You can’t do that,’ he said.

‘Why not?’ Richter replied. ‘We’d only be pointing the same gun in a different direction, so to speak.’

‘I like it,’ Simpson interrupted. ‘Yes, it’s sneaky and devious, and that’s usually the best way to work. Leave it to me. Now, is that it – as far as the weapon is concerned?’

‘Probably not,’ Richter replied, ‘but it’s about all I can think of at the moment. But there are a couple of other things we need to sort out.’

The Gold Room, the Pentagon, Washington, D.C.

‘And that is your unanimous recommendation?’ the Secretary of Defense asked. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff shook his head. ‘Not unanimous, Mr Secretary, but that is our majority view.’

The Secretary of Defense nodded slowly. ‘Very well,’ he said finally. ‘We go to DEFCON ONE now.’

Defence Readiness Condition One is the ultimate state of emergency. It ensures maximum force readiness and implies that the country is either at war or about to go to war.

Four minutes later the Secretary of Defense was talking on a secure telephone to the President. ‘The Joint Chiefs have recommended escalation now,’ he said, ‘so, subject to your veto, we’re going to DEFCON ONE immediately. Do you agree, sir?’

‘Yes. Implement it immediately.’

‘I’m leaving with the Joint Chiefs for SITE R as soon as the choppers get here, and the NMCC will revert to skeleton manning with immediate effect.’

‘I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this,’ the President replied. He sounded more depressed than the Secretary of Defense had ever known.

‘Still no word from Karasin?’

‘Nothing,’ the President replied. ‘I contacted the Kremlin on the hot-line telex link about an hour ago, but they told me that the Russian President is still in conference. I don’t know,’ he added, ‘exactly what that means.’ The Secretary of Defense didn’t reply. ‘I was intending to stay here throughout the crisis,’ the President went on, ‘but I’ve changed my mind. I’ve ordered a helicopter to take me to Camp David. My family’s gone there already, and I can conduct operations from there as well as from here.’

Camp David has an underground emergency operations centre designed to operate as a nuclear war command post. The centre is linked to SITE R by armoured underground communications cables.

‘Very good, Mr President,’ the Secretary of Defense said. ‘We’ve already activated the Mystic Star and Nationwide secure communications systems. The Joint Chiefs are linked with the Cover All and Nightwatch aircraft, Cheyenne Mountain, SITE R, USStratCom at Offutt and the other centres, and I’ll get Camp David added. I’ll make sure that you can contact me, the Vice-President and your nuclear commanders as soon as you get there.’ There was a short silence on the line. ‘Mr President?’

‘Sorry. Just thinking. My staff will tell Karasin where I’m going, and the Kremlin too. Is there anything else we can do?’

‘Nothing, Mr President,’ the Secretary said. ‘All we can do now is wait and pray.’

Le Moulin au Pouchon, St Médard, near Manciet, Midi-Pyrénées, France

Sadoun Khamil actually took over six hours to draft a reply to Abbas’ email, and as he read the decrypted text Abbas guessed that the delay had been because Khamil had been in prolonged consultation with senior al-Qaeda personnel.

Khamil’s response was unequivocal – they would wait for the last phase of the operation to be implemented, for the London weapon to be put in place, for the Gibraltar bomb to be detonated and for Trushenko’s ultimatum to be delivered. Only then was Abbas authorized to take charge of the integrated weapons system the Russians had so obligingly constructed for them, and change the world.

Camp David, Maryland

The President settled himself wearily into an armchair in the underground bunker and glanced around. His wife and children were still above ground, watching an afternoon movie in the comfort of the Camp David house. There would be, the President knew, ample time to bring them down into the bunker when – and if – necessary. Sitting about ten feet away from him was a Marine Corps major, clutching a black attaché case which was chained to his left wrist. Known colloquially as The Football, the case contained everything the President needed to wage global thermonuclear war – the current SIOP options, the President’s Decision Book and, most importantly, the Top Secret Gold Codes.