Richard Shirreff - War with Russia

“Don’t the Baltic air-policing fighters intercept them?” asked Morland. “I know the NATO nations provide them on a rotational basis to help protect your airspace.”

“If only…” Balderis grunted. “It depends which nation is providing it. The Brits, Americans, Danes, Norwegians and French are pretty good. But much depends on the duty officer at Ramstein, in Germany, where they are commanded from. If he’s feeling punchy then they intercept. But all too often, the Russians are allowed to get away with it. So they think NATO is a soft touch. And who is to say that one day they don’t turn right at our border and just keep coming. By the time the aircraft have been scrambled it will be too late. Anyway, it’s pretty academic. You can’t do much against a division with only four fighters.”

“That’s correct, Sir,” the Chief of Staff confirmed. “We’ve seen a massive increase in Russian air incursions in the last week, both across the border and into our airspace above the Baltic. Up three hundred percent on the previous period last month. As well as that, the Navy have been tracking Russian Baltic Fleet ships en route to Kaliningrad. They are routinely sailing into Latvian coastal waters.”

Balderis pondered. “I know how the Russians think. They’ll be convinced they’ve softened us up with their Special Forces, propaganda and civic disturbances. They’ll strike when they’re confident we’ll offer no resistance. But they still don’t understand us. We let them in without a fight in 1939. But not this time… This time we know what it’s like to live under them. This time we’ll fight those bastards to the death,” he exclaimed with feeling.

He composed himself and turned back to the Chief of Staff. “So much for the good news from Russia. What about the internal threat?”

The briefing continued. “Sir, the Constitution Protection Bureau liaison officer here has confirmed the extent of RNZS, Russian People’s Protection Force, participation in yesterday’s riot.” He looked at Krauja, who nodded her head in agreement.

“The RNZS continue to call on Russia for the President to protect them. We estimate that the RNZS is stood by in all majority Russian-speaking communities and will be mobilized quickly if Russia gives the order. We’re also watching carefully in case it’s mobilized as a nominal self-protection force following our call-out of the National Guard.”

“Yes, we’ll need to watch that. The sooner the mobilization can be completed the better,” responded Balderis. “But it’s going to take a couple of days before we’re completely ready.”

“Correct, Sir,” said the Chief of Staff. “I was coming to that. The regular Land Forces infantry brigade is at full readiness now and moving to occupy its pre-recced wartime positions. The Naval Flotilla is patrolling the coastline of the Baltic and the Gulf of Riga. As for the Air Force, the aviation squadron is deploying with the infantry brigade, while the air surveillance squadron maintains overwatch on all likely border crossing sites.”

“Air defense?” questioned Balderis.

“The air defense wing is deployed to cover pre-recced landing sites around Riga. War stocks of logistics are being outloaded and the Training Schools have adopted their wartime roles. The National Guard mobilization is going well and we’ve had an impressive turnout of reservists. We estimate that the first to be fully ready will be the Third Defense District in Riga; probably by midday on the twentieth of May.”

“What about the Second Defense District in Rezekne?” questioned Balderis. “If the Russians roll in across the border, they’ll be first in contact. They’ll be heavily outnumbered. I know they’ll put up a good fight, but they can’t hope to stop them.”

“The National Guard in Rezekne should be ready by midnight on the twentieth.”

“Do what you can to speed things up.” Balderis turned to the Land Forces commander next to him. “I’m taking nothing for granted.”

He looked at the Chief of Staff. “And our Special Forces, the Special Tasks Unit? I want them ready in Ādaži as my special reserve. They’re to be prepared for immediate tasking, whether we’re faced with a landing in Riga or an invasion across the border—or both. Make sure they’ve got some helicopter lift if they’re needed.”

He looked at Morland again. “And it’s important you maintain close contact with them. They may also need your help.”

Morland clocked that. If it all went to hell in a handcart that’s where his team needed to be. Any professional soldier always needs to think through the “what if” question, even if the “what if” sounds far-fetched. These men and women were in deadly earnest, even if the rest of the world was downplaying events up here. Morland decided they’d keep their large “bergen” rucksacks packed and weapons handy; as they might, after all, end up spending more time in the forests than they had expected to. Just as well that he and the team had spent the last three weeks in Ādaži getting acclimatized.

“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you.” It was Balderis’s MA, his Military Assistant, at his shoulder. “Admiral Howard, the SACEUR, is on the line from Washington. He’s about to see the President and is keen to talk to you before he does.”

“Hold the briefing,” said Balderis. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. This is important.”

He left the room for his office, signaling Morland and Krauja to join him.

He entered the outer office and turned to his MA. “Put the call through to me and then listen in on speaker. I want Captain Morland and Miss Krauja to listen in as well.”

He then went through to his inner office to take the phone call, but was back out again in moments as there was no call. The phone was dead.

They checked the other phones. Dead too. On the MA’s computer screen a document he had been working on started to devour itself. Then the screen went black. As did all the computer screens.

They tested the connections. Switched off the machines, unplugged and switched them on again. Nothing.

Five minutes later the Commander of the Joint Forces HQ burst in looking worried. He spotted the General and gave him a quick salute. “Sir, all computers and phones in the HQ have crashed. We suspect a cyber-attack. We’re implementing the cyber defense plan and reversionary modes. We’ll also send an advance party to open the reserve HQ in the old Soviet bunker at Ligatne.”

“You get on with that and get the message out to push on with the mobilization with all speed. I’m heading back to the Ministry of Defense.” He looked next at Morland. “Have you got comms?”

“Yes, General. Inmarsat VTC and secure phone, to anywhere in the world. Back at the embassy.”

“Come with me now to the MOD. You’ll get a picture of what is happening and then I want you to get the message to the UK and the US. At this moment you may be our best link with the outside world.” Balderis strode out of the building to his waiting car.

Two hours later they were in the Ministry of Defense in Valdemara Street in the center of Riga, a few blocks from the scene of yesterday’s rioting and still littered with burned-out cars and the smashed windows of looted shops. Everywhere there was chaos. None of the traffic lights were functioning and, as cars blocked every intersection, they had left the vehicles and walked the last couple of miles through streets crowded with confused and worried people trying to get home.

In the Defense Ministry, there was a sense of order and purpose—despite the blank computers and silent phones. Balderis called on the Defense Minister and after updating him, returned to his office. Reports came in by any means possible; bike, runner, or walked by messenger across the city from other ministries and key national infrastructure. What was becoming ever clearer was that this was a cyber-attack on a massive scale and all national infrastructure had crashed. The electricity grid had shut down, the flow of natural gas had stopped, financial transactions rerouted or ceased altogether, telecommunications disrupted, air-traffic-control radars blank and the airport shut down. In the streets there was a sense of resignation. And anyway, people were still in shock from the unexpected violence of yesterday’s riot.