Vaughn stopped six feet from Kontr-Admiral Dmitriev and stood there stiffly, uncertain of what to do next. The Russian admiral gave him a wintry smile and raised one hand to the gold-heavy bill of his peaked cap. “Permission to come aboard, Admiral,” he said.
The Russian’s English was quite good, Vaughn tiiought as he returned the salute, though the man rolled the word “admiral” about his mouth in a radier odd way. “Permission granted. Welcome aboard the Thomas Jefferson, Admiral Dmitriev.”
“I think, Admiral Vaughn, that this must be historic day.” Dmitriev extended his hand. “Closest I have been to American nuclear carrier before today was reconnaissance photos taken by one of our Tupolev bombers.”
Damn right it’s a historic day, you gold-braid son of a bitch, Vaughn thought as he reluctantly took Dmitriev’s hand and shook it. The phrase “a day that shall live in infamy” ran .through his mind. “If you would care to come with me, please?” he said. “You can sample the hospitality of our wardroom.”
“Spasebah,” the Russian replied. “Thank you. However, it is my wish that we spend no time on ceremony procedures. Our reconnaissance satellites have detected evidence of massive activity at Indian coastal bases. Is possible Indians are planning air strike against our forces.”
“Our satellites are watching those bases as well, Admiral.”
146
Keith Douglass
He’d seen the latest TENCAP images of Jamnagar and Uttarlai only a few minutes earlier. He wondered how recent the Russians* military intelligence was. TENCAP—Tactical Exploitation of National CAPabilities—was a new military communications system that allowed U.S. commanders in the field to tap photo intelligence data directly off American reconnaissance satellites, and Vaughn doubted that the Russians, with their historic emphasis on centralized command and control, had anything similar.
The photos Vaughn had seen that morning had been worrisome. Jamnagar, an Indian military air base on the Gulf of Kutch, was a hive of activity as military aircraft of every size and description assembled there from other airfields deeper in the Indian subcontinent. Satellite photos from Jaisalmer and Uttarlai, bases three hundred miles to the north, showed similar buildups of IAF forces. Surveillance of the Soviet-American task force had been intensifying over the past ten hours, mostly from Indian Bear-F and Illyushin-38 “May” naval aircraft, and the Indian navy appeared to be assembling a major task force at Bombay, centered on both of their carriers, plus a Kresta-FI cruiser and numerous smaller vessels. That air and sea armada might be assembling to support further Indian operations against Pakistan, but the possibility that they had American targets in mind could not be dismissed.
“Then you are aware of seriousness of our position,” Dmitriev said, responding to Vaughn’s blunt statement. The Russian turned and gestured toward the three high-ranking officers who stood stiffly at parade rest behind him. “I have brought men who will serve as Soviet liaisons aboard your Aegis command ship. Admiral Vaughn, may I present Kapitan Pervogo Ranga Sharov, my Chief of Staff. Kapitan Vtorogo Ranga Besedin, my Tactical Officer. Kapitan Tretyego Ranga Pokrovsky, of Kreml Air Department. All are excellent officers and have my complete confidence and respect. All speak English good as me.”
Each Russian officer saluted as he was introduced. Vaughn merely nodded to each in turn. Surely the dictates of formal military courtesy did not require him to return the salutes of these . . . these spies.
Vaughn had no doubt at all that the three men had had ties with the former Soviet military intelligence, the infamous GRU.
ARMAGEDDON MODE
147
“Preparations are not yet complete aboard the Vicksburg,” Vaughn replied. It would help, he thought, if he could stall the Russians here for a time, while the Aegis cruiser’s people prepared for these unwelcome visitors. “I assure you that we are carefully monitoring Indian air and sea activities, and that we will have ample time to board Vicksburg if they make a hostile move. We might as well wait here until they are ready for us over there.”
The Russians did not seem pleased and grumbled among themselves in Russian. Vaughn had given them no choice, however. They could only scowl, shrug, and nod. “Very well, Admiral,” Dmitriev said. “Lead way, if you please.”