Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel (7 page)

“The times be a-changin’,” Hardy said to himself as he opened the e-mail. At first, he sat relaxed. Then he slowly straightened and leaned forward as he reread the message. “Oh my God…”

He punched out a quick e-mail, attached it to Jerry’s, and forwarded it to his wife’s personal account. He then whipped out his smartphone and sent her a text message:

Just forwarded you an email from Jerry to your personal account.

Please read ASAP!

Love, Me.

13 March 2017

1330 EST

The White House

Washington, D.C.

Joanna Patterson felt her smartphone buzz; only a few people knew that number, all of them important. She looked quickly at the screen and saw Lowell’s message. By the time Joanna had finished reading the text, she’d pivoted in midstride and almost ran back to her office. If her husband thought it was important enough to text her at work, it was a big deal. She logged on to her account and read Lowell’s e-mail as she sat down.

Darling,

Please read the last email very carefully. Petrov sent Jerry a request for a meeting with a mutual acquaintance of theirs. Yes, the email is vague, but this is Alex we’re talking about. I believe he has demonstrated sufficient credibility with us in the past that we owe him the benefit of the doubt. I know it’ll be a pain for the Navy, but I believe it’s in our best interest to accept the invitation. BTW, Petrov is currently in India.

Love,

Lowell

The last sentence caused Joanna’s eyebrows to rise. She paged down and quickly read Jerry’s e-mail, and then Petrov’s. When she saw that an Indian submarine captain wanted to meet with Jerry concerning the most recent events, she practically fell out of her chair. Without even blinking, she shouted out to her secretary, “Kathy, call the CNO’s office. I need to speak with Admiral Hughes immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am, and what may I tell his staff is the topic?”

“Tell them I need to ask the CNO to do me a favor.”

13 March 2017

1600 EST

CNN

They’d obtained commercial satellite photos of the Kashmiri location yesterday. That had fueled one news cycle. From low Earth orbit, the blasted area showed up as a black and gray butterfly shape on the patchy brown and green landscape. The “wings” extended up the mountainsides to the northwest and southeast, while the longer body represented where the blast and heat had been channeled along the valley, running north and south.

The graphics people had arranged to have the outlines of previously existing roads, towns, and villages in the area appear on the image, and then the background would expand, zooming down to explore the shattered landscape. The image quality was good enough to simulate flying over the blast zone at low altitude. As the view swooped over each village or mountain hamlet, the camera would slow, as if searching for survivors. Close in, smoke from fires obscured the view, but even farther out, all that remained were outlines of structures, or a stone foundation. The photo’s field of view was too high to distinguish small details, but debris littered the landscape with a mottled gray and brown.

“Good afternoon and welcome to CNN’s continuing coverage of the Kashmir crisis. I’m Jane Bergen. It’s been just over four days since a nuclear weapon exploded in Kashmir, evidently wiping out a major LeT training camp.

“Our Jim Riviera has just managed to reach Muzaffarabad and is reporting to us live via Skype.”

Bergen’s image shrank to a thumbnail as Riviera’s face, too close to the camera, almost filled the frame. The image quality was poor, marred with flickering horizontal lines and dim lighting, but his voice was clear. “Jane, I reached Muzaffarabad about an hour and a half ago with a government relief column. The Pakistani government’s been very helpful in getting me here. It’s in their interest to show the world the extent of the damage and destruction caused by the explosion, but it’s in stark contrast to their previous policy before the cease-fire.”

Bergen asked, “Jim, what have you been able to find out about casualties?”

There was a moment’s pause before the correspondent replied, a deep frown on his face. “Communications north of here are still almost nonexistent. It’s bad enough here in the capital of the Pakistani-controlled region of Kashmir. Hospitals that were already taxed by civilian war injuries have been slammed with at least three hundred casualties, mostly trauma from flying debris. Closer to ground zero, the death toll is almost one hundred percent. Very few people with injuries have been reported, and only a handful has arrived here in Muzaffarabad. From satellite imagery and local reports, at least a half a dozen villages have been totally wiped off the face of the Earth.”

Bergen’s impassive newscaster’s mask slipped for a moment, and she appeared shaken by the idea. “And the radiation?”

Riviera shook his head. “There wasn’t one piece of radiological monitoring equipment in the convoy I arrived with. They’re scouring the city for equipment from local medical labs that can be used to measure the radiation levels, but the population isn’t waiting.

“The few survivors, many badly injured, that have come here from the north, have told wild stories and created a palpable wave of fear in the city. What little good information there is on dealing with contaminated food and water has been overwhelmed by rumor and folktales, some too wild to even consider—unless you’re very frightened, and that’s the only information you have.”

“Jim, thank you very much for your reporting. Please stay safe.”

Bergen turned to face the camera and explained, “For his own safety, CNN has ordered Jim Riviera to limit his exposure time in Muzaffarabad to twelve hours, so he will leave the city tomorrow sometime after dawn for a location outside the fallout zone. He’s brought his own food and water with him, and will consume nothing from the local area. While he is fortunate to have that option, think about the hundreds of thousands of local Kashmiri who do not.”

She drew a breath, as if composing herself, then said, “Our next guest is CNN consultant Dr. Stan Bartoz, a fellow at the Institute for Conflict Resolution. He’s been covering the peace negotiations in Geneva between the two warring countries since they began last October. For the past three days, he’s been wrestling with the same question most of us have: ‘Why did the Indians do this?’”

Bartoz was in his seventies, and lean, almost scrawny. Time had left him with a fringe of white hair. Perhaps in compensation, he had a full beard, with only a few black streaks still holding out.

“Dr. Bartoz, have you been able to devise any scenario that could explain India’s nuclear bombing of a terrorist base in Kashmir?”

Bartoz smiled. “Actually, I and my colleagues have come up with over a dozen theories about the circumstances of the bombing. For example, the act could have been carried out by a rogue element within the Indian armed forces. The government’s denials are genuine—they were as surprised as the rest of the world. Even now, behind the scenes, they’re conducting a fierce investigation and hunt for the parties responsible.”

“Is that what you believe happened?” asked Bergen, almost eagerly.

With a small shake of his head, Bartoz answered, “Probably not, given the tight controls India has on its nuclear weapons, and the large number of people that would have to be involved to launch even one weapon.” Bergen looked disappointed.

“Or it could have been done with the full connivance of the Indian government, if perhaps they had received intelligence information about a threat at this terrorist base so dangerous and immediate that the only way to stop it was with a nuclear attack.”

Before Bergen could ask, he continued, “But if that was the case, they’d be arguing self-defense, and presenting the same evidence to the world that had convinced the Indian government to take such drastic action. It might not be a strong defense, but it would be a defense. Of course, the Indian government’s defense right now is that they had nothing to do with the explosion.”

“Is there any evidence of such a dire threat to India, Doctor?” asked the CNN anchor.

The academic said firmly, “Nothing that we have been able to determine. We haven’t found any evidence to justify such an unprecedented action that would be worth the massive blowback the Indian nation and interests are suffering worldwide. Anti-Indian riots in every Muslim country, a wave of arson within India, and fatal attacks against Indian nationals in many ‘civilized’ countries.”

Bergen added, “Our website has a list of countries that have either already instituted economic sanctions or are considering them. There are many more organized boycotts of not only Indian products, but even Bollywood movies and other cultural exports. Even if no new sanctions are enacted, and more are being added every day, the Indian economy is facing the gravest crisis since the country became independent in 1947.

“So, Dr. Bartoz, if we assume India didn’t set off the nuclear bomb, who did? Is there any other possible explanation for this calamity?”

The doctor nodded curtly, “Yes, Jane, there is one hypothesis that is also consistent with the limited facts at hand, although, it is an unpleasant one.”

“And what would that be?”

“That the Lashkar-e-Taiba terrorist group had somehow, from somewhere, acquired a nuclear weapon and accidentally set it off in their own training camp. Similar events have occurred before with other terrorist groups in the manufacturing of suicide vests. And India was just as oblivious to this acquisition as the rest of us.”

Bergen looked amazed; no one had been bold enough to suggest the Pakistani tragedy could have been self-inflicted. “That is a disturbing theory, Doctor. One that has significant implications beyond this disaster.”

“As I said, Jane, it’s an unpleasant hypothesis at best.”

The reporter paused briefly to compose herself before going back to the interview’s question list. “What impact do you think all of this will have on the peace talks?”

“You mean the lack of peace talks. Well, of course the Pakistani delegation left Geneva immediately after they heard the news. Pakistan’s nuclear weapons were already dispersed and deployed because of India’s invasion last fall. There is a very vocal minority in Pakistan that wants to fire a retaliatory weapon into India, preferably at a large city. Of course, the nuclear exchange that would inevitably follow would destroy Pakistan as a nation, but many are so angry that they are willing to commit national suicide.

“The two countries’ armies are rebuilding, and preparing for a new offensive this spring, which is perhaps a month away. With the ‘nuclear threshold’ crossed by this one weapon, there is deep concern that the next offensive will involve more atomic weapons. The Indians missed their best chance to win this conflict last fall, and will be going all-out. The Pakistanis know that, and from their perspective have already suffered one Indian nuclear attack, so they are literally teetering on the edge.”

Bergen looked horrified. “So your greatest concern is that the war between India and Pakistan will become a nuclear war?”

Bartoz replied, “It already is a nuclear war—regardless of who detonated the weapon in Kashmir. It’s unfortunate, and indeed ironic, that in trying to remove the threat of Pakistani terror groups and nuclear weapons, the Indians have significantly increased the chance of suffering such an attack.” He smiled, but only at the irony, and then sighed. “For almost everyone currently alive, Hiroshima and Nagasaki are just historical events, dimmed by the passage of time. Having seen for themselves the effects of just one such weapon, perhaps both sides will consider the potential consequences and take a step back from the abyss.”

13 March 2017

2100 Local Time

Tbilisi, Georgia

Yuri Kirichenko listened to Dhankhar’s arguments carefully. He’d reluctantly agreed with the admiral that the schedule had to be accelerated. The Kashmir blast was drawing far too much attention to all things nuclear in India. The problem was, he couldn’t refute the man’s logic about the size of his fee, either.

“We paid for six warheads, and you promised six. We received five, so it’s only appropriate that we reduce the payment by one-sixth.” Dhankhar was stating this as a fact, not a request. His possession of the warheads made it difficult for Kirichenko to negotiate. He could threaten to withdraw Orlav, but the technician would balk at the loss of his payment, and besides, Dhankhar might simply offer to hire him directly.

“Very well. Five-sixths of the original amount, payable when Orlav’s work is completed. I’ll be there for the final inspection and transfer of the arming codes. Churkin is currently en route to assist in maintaining security.” He’d debated telling him about Churkin’s movements, but Kirichenko needed to let the Indians know he was doing all he could. They’d already lost one weapon. There could be no more mistakes.

Dhankhar broke the connection, but Kirichenko sat holding the dead phone, lost in thought. The Indians had paid part of their fee up front, of course, but Kirichenko had used almost all of that to cover his expenses, much of it bribes, needed to recover and transport the warheads halfway across Eurasia. And that money was gone. He didn’t think he should ask for a one-sixth refund from the Al Badr militants. He needed to preserve his good relations with people who might be his next customers.

The ex-admiral’s mind was in two places. While part was obviously in India, the rest was up north, in the Kara Sea. He had more warheads to recover and sell, and he needed to learn from his mistakes with the first shipment. His profit from the first batch would be thinner than he liked, but he’d use it to recover more of the warheads next time. With increased security, and delivery only. If he hadn’t promised Orlav’s services adapting the warheads to fit in torpedoes, he’d be out clean and away by now. But then the Indians might not have concluded the deal. Mentally, he shrugged. That was in the past.

Now everything depended on Orlav—in Kirichenko’s opinion, a weak reed to lean on, but the only one available.

The Kashmir blast meant he should pick up his pace, as well. The Kara Sea would be stormy and ice-ridden for several more months, but the first time the weather moderated, he’d have his people ready. He might not be able to get them all next time, but definitely more than six.