' The Longest Night ' & ' Crossing the Rubicon ': The Original Map Illustrated and Uncut Final Volume (Armageddon's Song) (43 page)

BOOK: ' The Longest Night ' & ' Crossing the Rubicon ': The Original Map Illustrated and Uncut Final Volume (Armageddon's Song)
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The President stared at the psychologist, wondering if he was joking, or even screwing with him as head doctors are wont to do, to see how a person reacts. He looked next at the image of Torneski on the screen and concluded that Dr Bengot had been entirely serious. He shuddered at the thought of what ‘earning’ that tattoo may have entailed but preferred to think on it as coincidental. At the end of the day some things were just best left unknown.

“Let’s move on, Doctor.” he instructed. “You will have noticed I presume that these partners she chooses share certain physical traits?”

“I am afraid that you are not entirely correct in that assumption, sir.” Dr Bengot brought up several photographs of young women who were all attractive but their looks were of a variance.

“The green eyes and chestnut hair, the sculpture of the chin and cheek bones, the shape of the mouth…?” the doctor asked, turning to look over at the President with a questioning expression.

“Precisely, Doctor.”

“That is a fairly recent occurrence, within the last few years in fact, and it points to an obsession, so I would assume that someone, somewhere is ‘The one that got away’, of course.”

Terry Jones looked over at the President, habitually, and effortlessly, doing so in a way that Dr Bengot failed to notice.

The President noted the expression in the CIA chiefs eyes, even if his face gave nothing away.

“You mentioned ownership for life, I believe?”

“Indeed, they are her toys, she does not share and neither is Premier Torneski the forgiving and forgetting type. Mr President.”

“She gets mad
and
she gets even too?”

“It is not such an unusual trait.” Austin Bengot stated. “I have been divorced four times, so I speak from experience.”

“Really?” the President exclaimed, and then added with a mischievous smile. “Is there a technical term, probably in Latin, for multiple marriages, Doctor?”

“Libido.”

The President laughed aloud.

“Well you are working for entirely the wrong people if you intend to make those maintenance payments and also eat for the entire month too.”

The President next asked as to the best method of manipulating a personality such as the new Premiers.

“With extreme caution sir, because should Premier Torneski discover, or even suspect that is being played, the response is likely to be violent.”

Dr Bengot concluded his briefing and made to leave when the President stopped him with a final question.

“We have an operative who was once close to the new Premier.” the President said. “Would she be more or less at risk now that Torneski is in a very powerful position?”

“Did your operative require reconstructive facial surgery at some point after their relationship?”

“No, definitely not.” stated the President, removing a photograph from Svetlana’s file and sliding it across.

“Ah” remarked the doctor after a moment studying the picture, before glancing at the rear of the print to read the words, and in particular the date that her lover of the moment had written with a flourish in biro.

“The one that got away…” Dr Bengot said with absolute certainty. “…and the first appearance of the tattoo, it would seem.”

Austin Bengot handed back the photograph.

“In answer to your question as to the risk this young woman now faces, well Premier Torneski no longer has anyone who could offer censure, she answers to no one Mr President, and therefore it follows that this lovely young creature, your operative, is now in more danger than ever.”

The President again looked across at Terry Jones.

The CIA chief left the room, needing to telephone Sir Richard Tennant in private.

“Mr President?” Austin asked. “By any chance is this operative aware that she is the object of this obsession?”

“I have no idea, doctor.”

The President meant to ask Terry Jones that question but it slipped by, buried under the weight of other pressing matters.
 

  Dr Bengot departed but the face of Elena remained on the screen as Terry Jones returned to deliver his agencies findings with regard to the delay in bringing the Red Army in Germany to heel.

“Mr President, the best thing about having someone in power who is disliked by their own people as much as they are by the opposition parties, is the wealth of dirt that is freely offered up on them.” Terry stated.

“At the time of the former Premiers death the Red Army in Germany was expected to succeed without any requirement of battlefield nuclear weapons being deployed. It was Torneski herself who introduced to him the notion that the weapons
were needed, obviously in order to effect a quick exit from the Premiers side and alert us to his whereabouts. Torneski was well aware that had nuclear weapons been used against us then France would certainly have launched an immediate nuclear counter strike even if we and Britain had not.”

The President nodded agreement.

“However, Torneski immediately seized power from the Deputy Premier and had the General Staff and Front Commanders replaced with her own people, and applied the spurs, not the brakes.”

On the screen there now appeared messages to the new Front Commander from Torneski ordering full chemical weapon use of all stocks available.

“Where did these documents originate and how satisfied are you with their authenticity?”

Terry handed across a binder. Just because everyone in the room was cleared to be there, did not mean that they had to know every detail that he knew.

The President read for a minute before returning the binder.

“So she took our money and still tried to stiff us.” he grumbled. “Well that is politics, I suppose.”

“There is something else too sir.”

The President noted the tone and braced himself for bad news.

“Go on?”

“The information that Anatolly Peridenko ordered the murder of our people in Scotland, it seems certain that it originated from Elena Torneski.”

“And?”

“False, Mr President.” Terry stated. “One of the team now in custody in Britain just blew the whistle on it. The aim of the mission was the abduction of Svetlana Vorsoff and her delivery to the person who ordered the operation.”

“Elena Torneski?”

“Correct Mr President, but she had already departed for Russia. They did not know that of course so they wanted Major Bedonavich alive in order to learn her whereabouts, by means of extreme persuasion of course.”

“Is that the current euphemism for torture, these days?” the question was rhetorical and he went on. “So do we know what happened at the house, that morning?”

“We do indeed sir; this guy was one of the snatch team. Major Bedonavich made a fight of it after everyone else was dead, but he knew what was in store for him when they had him cornered on the bridge; he jumped in front of that train rather than talk.”

A long silence ensued as the President considered all this fresh information.

“Maybe not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but that bitch is going down.”
 

  General Randolph Carmine had already briefed the President on the Russian warships that remained with the Chinese fleet. Satellite surveillance had discovered a large Prisoner-of-War compound outside Port Kembla where the majority of those behind the wire wore Russian naval uniforms. It must have come as something of a shock to the Chinese when against all odds Russia had lost the war for Europe and ceased hostilities. Their remaining enemy had however rolled with the blow, cut the Russians off from any communications with their own command and then seized the Russian Pacific Fleet ships that accompanied the invasion force. Several days had followed with flights from China delivering naval personnel to Mactan and their onward transfer to the fleet.

It highlighted just how adaptable the People’s Republic of China was but they were all of them, the President included; now kicking themselves over the lost opportunity. The disastrous and costly attack on the invasion fleet by the allied air and naval forces could have had a very different outcome if the allies had known the warships were basically running on half strength crews for several days. An attack when the fleet was in turmoil could have made all their current plans unnecessary. Always providing that they won the war there were going to be armchair tacticians and mediocre historians milking this one for decades to come.

 

Terry Jones, Joe Levi and Sally Peters were the only ones remaining seated an hour later as
‘Choir Practice’
took place behind sealed doors.

“General Carmine, I am about ready for some good news for once, so I am hoping that you can oblige.”

The General nodded affirmation.

“Mr President, in Australia the Chinese 3
rd
Army’s 1
st
Corps landed successfully, as expected, unfortunately, but they also almost pulled off a flanking movement that would have been impossible to counter had it not been for a determined rearguard action by the Australians.”

The Moruya landings had almost worked in opening a fast road to the capital, and they spent a little while going over future possible moves by the Chinese before getting down to the business of
‘Church’.

Operation
Evensong
was a huge gamble and its failure, and also its success, would end the intelligence windfall contained within the CD found in the combat smock of the dead paratrooper, Colonel General Serge Alontov.

“The Chinese 1
st
Corps did as expected, landing in the face of sparse defences and making a dash for the capital. Australia’s unique topography worked in our favour, and will continue to do so as allied troops carry the fight to the enemy with patrol actions until the arrival of the real convoys from Europe,
Matins
.”

“Patrol actions, against four mechanised divisions?”

“It has already begun Mr President, for example, a pair of snipers with the Coldstream Guards are making the very necessary function of taking a dump, one of deadly hazard now for the soldiers of the PLAN’s 1
st
Marines. Ten dead in three days, so the Chinese grunts are taking a dump in their trenches instead.” General stated. “It is hot weather, it’s unsanitary, it’s a drain on both morale and resources, as you can see.” A translation of a daily sitrep by that unit showed a fairly heavy level of ammunition expenditure in response to the snipers single shots.

“It is only a matter of time before self-inflicted wounds start showing up on the medical reports.” General Carmine explained. “And when that happens to a unit, then its combat effectiveness is on a downward curve.”

Satellite images, courtesy of the ‘Church’ software showed each units position and status. The 1
st
Corps of China’s People’s Liberation Army had gone defensive.

Much of the coastal plain of New South Wales was now in the hands of the Chinese but even their 3
rd
Army’s First Corps lacked the bulk to force the mountain passes, as they had seen.

For four days the fleet sat just off the coast as the troop ships, Ro-Ro ferries and tank landing ships unloaded at Port Kembla, but on the fifth morning the sun had risen on a very different seascape, the fleet had departed in the night. 1
st
Corps of China’s 3
rd
Army was on its own with just a single carrier air wing’s worth of support operating off airstrips on land.

“They are waiting for the other two corps to arrive, for 2 Corps to resume the attack, possibly from fresh landings that bypass the mountains, but it’s a hell of a long drive from Melbourne to Canberra for an armoured army.” he said, indicating the coast to the west of that city. “Their 3
rd
Corp is the least able, combat wise, and would be required to hold the ground the other two corps had taken, and of course protect the logistics chain.”

“Which is where Sally and her people come in.” the President smiled. “I just hope it works as hoped or all this good stuff...” He waved towards the feeds from China’s own satellites. “…is lost to us for good and ever.”

Sally kept a straight face as she moved the satellite view further north.

“Mr President, these radar images you can see are the convoy’s carrying their 3
rd
Army’s 2
nd
Corps westwards to defend Singapore from of own convoy from Europe, approaching Asia via the Suez Canal.”

The view changed again to that of the Atlantic, where nothing remarkable at all was happening.

“And now our own satellites take on things…”

Activity wise, it was a complete reversal.

Randolph Carmine explained what was occurring.


They know that coming via the Panama Canal can take a whole week longer than the Suez route, depending on the weather.” he said. “And of course any convoy would be entering a shooting gallery once it cleared the Suez canal and entered the Indian Ocean. Three quarters of China’s submarine fleet are heading that way with the intention of sinking that convoy and the ones now following it. Many of the Chinese boats are operating out of Singapore, which is a good base to command trade routes and the sea lanes just as Britain did when it was a colony of theirs.”

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