“Oh, God, no,” the Secretary of Defense said. “Now India thinks we’ve already sided with Pakistan.”
“So much for our getting them to arrange an armistice,” Hall added.
“What about the Russians?” one of the Defense Secretary’s aides asked. He held up two fingers, tightly crossed. “India and the former USSR have always been like that.”
Schellenberg shook his head. “It’s not that simple, son. India has pursued a policy of strict neutrality. What was the Soviet Union was India’s largest trading partner, and India has been one of Russia’s best sources of hard currency. India’s armed forces are mostly outfitted with Russian equipment, yeah, but with a few exceptions, India managed to steer clear of East-West politics. I doubt that the Russians exert that much influence over them, not if knocking out Pakistan is really important to New Delhi.”
“Then what can we do?” Hall asked. “What can the President do?”
“That, gentlemen, is why the President wanted us to meet here this morning,” Buchalter said. “We are to examine our options, and I am to report to him with the consensus later this
ARMAGEDDON MODE
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afternoon.” He opened the folder in front of him and leafed through it to a marked page. “Gendemen, if you would turn in your briefs to die National Security Decision Memorandum, NSDM-242.1 direct your attention to Point Two.” He cleared his throat and began reading. ” ‘In conjunction with other U.S. and allied forces, to deter attacks—conventional and nuclear—by nuclear powers against U.S. allies and those other nations whose security is deemed important to U.S. interests.”*
He looked up and faced the men around the table. “This memorandum was formulated by the Nixon-Ford Administrations and reaffirmed by NSDD-13 in 1981. In omer words, if the President says that it is m the national interest to prevent a nuclear war on the Indian subcontinent—”
Schellenberg blinked. “Are you saying we should declare war on India?”
Buchalter smiled tightly. “I think, Mr. Secretary, that the President would appreciate an option less extreme than that. But he does want an option.” He turned to Caldwell. “General, I’d like to hear more about mis carrier battle group we already have in the area. Anything we do out there is going to rely on them.”
“We could take this up with the United Nations,” Hem-minger said. The Secretary of Defense rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “A nuclear war in South Asia could have repercussions on lots of countries. Afghanistan, Burma, Thailand . . .’*
“Not to mention the former Soviet Union, what is now the Commonwealth of Independent States,” Marlowe said. “I imagine that they’re burning the midnight oil right this moment in the Kremlin, trying to decide what to do about this. I assure you, the Soviet Union will not be pleased at the prospect of a nuclear confrontation so near her southern frontiers.”
“The President has already informed our representative at the UN,” Buchalter added. “I imagine Pakistan’s nuke . . . and the incident with our frigate . . . will both be pretty high on the list of topics discussed on the East River today.”
The discussion went on for three hours. In the end, it all came down to one thing.
CBG 14 was already in the area. Any other military forces short of ICBMs or long-range SAC bombers would require
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days or weeks to deploy. Every man there was remembering the long buildup in the Arabian desert during Operation Desert Shield.
Any short-term answer to the crisis was riding on the flight deck of the U.S.S. Jefferson.
CHAPTER 5
0730 hows, 24 Maid)
Viper Ready Room, U&S. Thomas Jefferson
Tombstone walked into the Vipers’ ready room, exchanging greetings with the other aviators already there. Most of VF-95’s pilots and RIOs were there, standing about in small groups or already sitting in the rows of chairs facing a large TV screen mounted on the far bulkhead. Those scheduled for patrol within the next few hours wore their flight suits. The others were more comfortably attired in their khakis.
Looking around the room, be spotted Batman and his rear-seater, Lieutenant Ken “Malibu” Blake, standing in one corner underneath the PLAT monitor, deep in a heated debate. He hesitated a moment, then walked over to join them.