Peter Kirsanow - Second Strike

Lawrence bristled. “Not really, Mr. President. Our military and intelligence infrastructures are largely insulated. We’ve hardened most of our defense systems.”

“But,” Brandt countered, “the domestic disturbance would render any such hardening irrelevant. Because we’d be dealing with utter chaos at home. Lord of the Flies. Besides, there’s some evidence Russia or China has already had success hacking our satellites and drones—so defense and intelligence aren’t invulnerable.”

“The dilemma, as I see it,” Marshall said, “is that we have no demonstrable evidence that a cyberattack will occur, or if one occurs, where it will come from. We have nothing to confront the potential attacker. Our option, then, is to be vigilant and do whatever we can in the interim to prevent it.”

“And prepare for the worst,” Brandt muttered under his breath.

The small but ornate conference room adjacent to Yuri Mikhailov’s office was quiet. No one spoke; there was barely any movement. Assembled within it were seven of the most powerful men in Russia, each in his own way formidable and intimidating. Each was used to being the most important person in the room, commanding attention, respect, and obedience merely by his presence.

Arranged around a rectangular marble-topped table were First Deputy Prime Minister Boris Novikov, Minister of Defense Igor Oblomov, Minister of External Affairs Grigory Goncharov, Minister of Emerging Situations Ivan Sorokin, Marshal Vitaly Brin, General Pavel Turgenev, and the head of the Twelfth Chief Directorate, Aleksandr Stetchkin. Although technically Stetchkin reported to Oblomov, the former, by virtue of his long-standing relationship with the Russian president, was the most influential person in the room.

There were two empty chairs at the table. Presently, the door leading to Mikhailov’s office opened and Alexei Vasiliev entered and took a seat. The room remained silent for another minute. Then the door opened and Yuri Mikhailov entered, taking the seat at the head of the table without looking at anyone. To the others in the room he appeared to be studying the backs of his hands.

After a few more seconds of silence Mikhailov said, “Alexei.”

Vasiliev, in turn, looked at Marshal Brin and General Turgenev. “Gentlemen?”

Brin said, “Elements of the Southern and Central Military Districts, consisting chiefly of the Fifty-eighth and Forty-ninth Armies, including the Twenty-second Spetsnaz Brigade, are staged approximately one hundred kilometers south of Makhachkala and two hundred fifty kilometers south of Aktau, respectively. We estimate they will enter Iranian territory to the west of Ardabil and to the east of Gorgan within two hours of the event. Intelligence estimates indicate we will meet minimal resistance until we are within the Tehran defense perimeter. Given the degradation of Iranian defenses by the Western bombing campaign, the resistance at the perimeter will be defeated within thirty-six hours.” Brin looked at Turgenev. “General?”

“Thank you. We estimate, Mr. President, that within a timeframe similar to that outlined by Marshal Brin, the Baltic tank battalions will have secured much of the Latvian and Estonian countryside. The event will prevent meaningful NATO resistance, let alone retaliation. Within the following twelve hours Riga and Tallinn will be under control.

“Most of eastern Ukraine will be under the control of various elements of the Sixth Army within sixty hours of the event. We project our forces to dominate the area on a line southward from Zhytomyr to Vinnytsya to Odessa.”

“What of Lithuania?” Vasiliev asked.

“NATO exercises in and around northeast Poland have caused us to recalculate the original timeframe regarding Lithuania. It is less than three hundred kilometers from Białystok to Vilnius. NATO, therefore, may be able to mount a response,” Turgenev answered.

“Even if blind?”

“We assume worst case, Mr. Vasiliev.”

“How long do you estimate before Lithuania is secured, General? Worst case?”

“Ninety-six hours.”

“Acceptable,” Vasiliev said, turning to Stetchkin. “What is the probability we will encounter a worst-case scenario?”

“Unlikely,” Stetchkin replied. “The event will immobilize NATO for several weeks. Their civilian infrastructure will be completely paralyzed and we have been, frankly, astonished at the unexpected vulnerability of their military apparatus. Most of the European NATO signatories have expended meager sums to protect their systems from electronic warfare and could not have anticipated an attack even remotely as sophisticated as the event. They will be brought to a near standstill. They will be overwhelmed.”

“What of the Americans?” Vasiliev asked.

“Their defenses are formidable but insufficient,” Stetchkin replied. “The simulations show they will be blind and effectively paralyzed, unable to mount a timely response. Our annexation of Iran and much of the near abroad will be done before they have even begun restoring their cybercapabilities. They will have virtually no telecommunication capabilities. All cellular and Internet service will be out. Financial data will be erased. Their financial markets will go dark.

“For enhanced chaos we have targeted sluice gates at approximately two dozen of their largest dams. There will be massive flooding at these locations. Power grids in the thirty largest metropolitan areas—New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Washington—will be shut down completely. No light or electricity whatsoever. That alone will be a cataclysm that will occupy all aspects of emergency response. Police, fire, and military will have to mobilize without telecommunications ability.” Stetchkin paused. “SVR says the Americans believe their military and intelligence servers will be able to weather an attack, but they have underestimated our capabilities.” Stetchkin looked at Mikhailov. “By the time they have even begun to assess the extent of their paralysis, we will have absorbed most of Greater Russia as well as Iran. And, if we so choose, much of Scandinavia and the Balkans would be ours.”

Mikhailov did not react. Vasiliev spoke instead. “What is your estimate of the time from initiation of the event until reconstitution of Greater Russia?”

“I defer to Marshal Brin,” Stetchkin answered.

“One hundred twenty hours,” Brin said. “One hundred sixty-eight at the outside.”

Vasiliev nodded, then looked to Grigory Goncharov. “Your previous estimate of the percentage of electrical equipment that would be moved as a result of the event remains the same?”

“Essentially, yes,” Goncharov answered cautiously. “Demand will be appreciably less than if an electromagnetic pulse had struck the US mainland. But the event will affect far more territory. There will certainly be demand.”

Mikhailov rose, drawing everyone’s riveted attention. “We are getting ahead of ourselves. Discussion of markets can and will wait until control of Greater Russia is secure and we have seized Iran. Any discussion of Scandinavia, the Balkans, and other regions will wait, also. Should the event be successful, dominoes will fall of their own accord.”

Everyone in the room nodded. Stetchkin did so with a smile of satisfaction, a smile that was short-lived. Mikhailov pointed at Stetchkin and said, “Be certain that the event succeeds.”

The Russian president walked to the entrance to his office, opened the door, and shut it sharply behind him.

MOUNT VERNON, VIRGINIA,

AUGUST 18, 8:40 A.M. EDT

Garin waited in Dwyer’s communications room for a report from Coe and Wilson. He was seated in the captain’s chair. Dwyer, Knox, and Olivia were with him, each in his or her own seat around the perimeter of the room. Diesel had followed them and was at Garin’s feet.