Don Brown - Black Sea Affair

Vitaly Evtimov's Slavic blood expanded the veins in his neck and temples.

"Comrade President, " the foreign affairs minister spoke up.

"Not now, Alexander Alexeyvich!" Evtimov waved his foreign affairs minister off, stood again, and, turning from the small group of advisors, gazed out through the windows behind his desk overlooking 4 Staraya Square.

Pedestrians crossed the streets and sidewalks; businessmen carried suitcases. Some women were in business suits and others carried children on their backs like papooses.

From this vantage point, Moscow gave the appearance of vibrancy. And if one didn't know better, the grand city in many ways resembled the way she looked when she was the capital of the greatest nation on earth.

What had become of the great Soviet nation?

What had gone wrong?

The disintegration of the Soviet Union was the greatest blow to the once-proud Russian bear.

Ukraine had left, although now, with the election of President Butrin and the declining popularity of the Americans, Evtimov saw an opening for reconciliation at the upcoming summit in Odessa on orphanages. Russia would offer Ukraine considerable money for its orphanages, against a perfect political backdrop of the twelve Ukrainian orphans arriving on the Russian freighter.

But now, just as progress was possible with Ukraine, the Americans and their cronies were after Georgia!

Would Vitaly Sergeivich Evtimov go down as the Russian president that finally lost Georgia to NATO and the west? Never over the grave of Lenin would he watch this happen!

He turned to his advisors. "Gentlemen, the Slavic blood of the Russian people make us the strongest people on the earth!" He slammed his palm on his desk. "The most militant dictators in human history could not conquer us. Napoleon and Hitler tried and failed. And we will not be intimidated by, nor will we ignore this American buildup on our doorsteps!" He eyed every man in the room. "I am ordering full mobilization of our forces!"

"But, Comrade President, " the foreign affairs minister spoke up again.

This time, Evtimov decided to let the minister speak. "What is it, Alexander Alexeyvich?"

"This buildup of opposing forces on the Georgin-Chechen border exacerbates the great risk that an accidental shot might be fired, which could lead to all-out war."

"Your point?"

"All this goes back to that stolen plutonium. Why not tell the Americans and the Turks what happened, and explain to them that we have stepped up our forces to locate the plutonium and to destroy the Chechen rebels' capacity to build a nuclear bomb?"

"And admit that our military forces are incompetent?" Evtimov glared at his defense minister. "Chechnya is our territory. Chechnya is none of their business. Do you really believe that the Americans would not mobilize if we sent our most elite airborne divisions to the northern Mexican border, across the river from Texas?"

No answer.

The moment called for decisive leadership.

"My order stands. Call up all reserves. Order the full mobilization of all Russian forces. Bring three more divisions to the Chechen-Georgian border to counter the American threat."

The White House

President Mack Williams had long since doffed the navy blue pinstripe jacket and was now crossing his arms, rocking back in his chair behind the huge cherry desk. The verbal salvos between his secretaries of state and defense were escalating.

"This whole idea of moving the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions so close to the Russian buildup is too risky, Mr. President, " the secretary of state pleaded. "The region is a powder keg. We've already got this secret plan to sneak our sub into the Black Sea and sink their freighter. Now this." The secretary of state chopped his hand in the air. "Now the Russians are mobilizing more forces. That's thousands of troops staring down gun barrels at point-blank range.

"One spark and you've got war. Please, call them back, Mr. President, or at least position them in southern Turkey, sir. And there's no legitimate reason for U.S. Air Force jets to fly over Georgia, sir. Georgia's not a NATO member yet."

Mack looked at his secretary of defense.

"But they've applied for membership, " Secretary of Defense Lopez shot back. "And we should allow overflights because Turkey is a NATO member and they've requested our presence. Either NATO means something or it doesn't. Plus, with the public relations beating we've taken over the Dome of the Rock fiasco, we need all the goodwill we can muster." Seretary Lopez wagged his finger, but pointed it at no one in particular. "Not only that, but both the Bush Administration and this administration have endorsed the request from Georgia to join NATO. Plus, I remind my friend the secretary of state that the 82nd and 101st are being deployed to Turkey, not Georgia. The Russians are in Chechnya, not Georgia. So it isn't like our troops are on the Russian border."

"Oh, come on, " Secretary Mauney said. "Georgia's such a tiny nation that there's no significant geographic barrier. What? Fifty to a hundred miles at the most?" Mauney looked at Mack. "Mr. President, rather than risk war, why not just tell the Turks that the Russians are looking for plutonium, that they don't have to worry about a border incursion, and that our buildup is unnecessary?"

A smooth feminine voice joined the fray. "But what if we're wrong in our assumptions, Mr. Secretary?" Cynthia Hewitt, Mack's national security advisor, asked. "Suppose this buildup has more than one purpose?"

"Explain, Cyndi, " Mack said.

"Suppose the buildup has a dual purpose – to find the plutonium and to invade Georgia to bring it back in the Russian fold?"

"Ridiculous, " Mauney quipped.

"Is it?" the sandy-haired Hewitt retorted. "We know Evtimov's staunch opposition against Georgian NATO membership. Their intelligence is notoriously shoddy. Maybe they believe the plutonium is in Georgia and use that as a pretext for an invasion."

"Impossible, " Mauney said. "We've concluded that the plutonium is somewhere on the high seas."

"We know that. The Russians don't know it, " Secretary Lopez retorted.

"Well, then why not just tell the Russians what we think, Mr. President? Why not just tell them we think the plutonium is on this freighter somewhere in the Black Sea? Let me open a dialogue with Foreign Minister Kotenkov. We can seek a joint solution on finding this plutonium. Give diplomacy a chance, sir. Just tell them that the plutonium is on the Alexander Popovich and perhaps they can board it, find the plutonium, and all sides can stand down before someone sets off a thermonuclear device."

"The reason we can't just do that, Mr. Secretary" – the secretary of defense responded in a slow cadence – "is this. What if the Russians don't buy it? What if they claim that their intelligence is better than ours? Suppose they refuse to board or inspect the freighter? If they take that position, then if and when we sink that freighter, the whole world, including the Russians, will know who did it. And if you want a war, Mr. Secretary" – the secretary of defense turned and looked directly at the secretary of state – "just let it get out that we torpedoed one of their unarmed civilian freighters. Remember the Lusitania?"

The British liner Lusitania was torpedoed by German U-Boats in 1915, helping bring the U.S. into World War I.

"And don't forget this. The skipper of the Alexander Popovich has sold his ship's ser vices to terrorists. It must be sunk, even if it isn't carrying that plutonium."

"But -, " Mauney interjected.

"Let me finish, please." Lopez erected his index finger from a balled fist, as if lecturing a classroom full of high school students. "If we tell the Russians what we are thinking, they will demand to know how we know. And whether we reveal our sources or not, we risk exposing our intelligence sources on the ground. We have undercover operatives whose lives would be at risk in the entire country."