necessity rest entirely on Marchenko’s blocky shoulders.
“This plan is certainly audacious,” Marchenko said, leafing through a
binder filled with loose-leaf pages, each marked SOVERSHENNO SEKRETNO at
top and bottom. He looked shaken. “To deliver nuclear fire upon our
own cities, our own people …”
“To deliver ‘nuclear fire,’ as you call it, on traitors, dissidents, and
rebels. In war, especially in a war such as this that shall determine
the character and heart and mind of this nation for the next thousand
years, there is no room for half measures. Besides, if Leonov and his
cronies take us seriously, there will be no need for an actual launch.”
Karelin was surprised at how calmly he could sit in this office, sipping
tea as he discussed the use of nuclear weapons–or at least the threat
of nuclear weapons–in Russia’s worsening civil war.
As the battle lines were drawn between neo-Soviet forces in the north
and the so-called democrats in the south, it had become increasingly
clear that the bulk of the former Soviet Union’s ICBMs, including the
vast missile fields of Kazakhstan and Ukraine, would eventually fall
into rebel hands. Most were still under the control of Strategic Rocket
Force commanders loyal to Moscow, but they were isolated and under
siege. Worse, the rebels now held the launch codes for the land-based,
long-range ICBMs.
But Moscow still controlled a number of short- and intermediate-range
missile batteries, and perhaps most telling of all, she controlled the
Northern Fleet … including the eight Typhoon submarines based near
Polyamyy.
Those eight Typhoons alone carried unimaginable potential firepower, 160
ICBMs, mounting a total of over twelve hundred warheads of
one-hundred-kiloton yield apiece.
The deadly threat posed by a single Typhoon, Moscow believed, would be
enough to cow the rebels. They would dare not launch a nuclear strike
of their own, even if they had managed to come up with the necessary
codes, not when a launch would devastate the entire country. The
leaders of the military command in Moscow believed, frankly, that while
they could afford to vaporize cities like Samara or Tashkent, Leonov
could not possibly contemplate the destruction of Moscow or Leningrad,
the combined heart and central nervous system of the entire Russian
empire.
And if Leonov did not surrender, if it proved necessary to launch, then
it would be “Audacious Flame” indeed, an audacious, cleansing flame
scouring the rebels from the earth, leaving a purified remnant once
again under the order and discipline of a unified and central authority.
Everything depended on the Northern Submarine Fleet–in particular upon
the eight Typhoon submarines hidden in their shelters along the
Polyamyy, Sayda, and Kola inlets. Nearly one hundred ballistic-missile
submarines were deployed with the fleet, from the Typhoons themselves to
thirteen aging, diesel-powered relics the West called Golf-IIs. Another
seventy-odd attack submarines carried as their primary warloads cruise
missiles mounting nuclear warheads. But of that entire number, perhaps
a third were in Black Sea or Far East ports, and the loyalties of their
captains and crews were suspect. Over half of those in the Northern
Fleet were laid up for repairs or maintenance, or were waiting for
deliveries of supplies. Many of the rest were at sea, maintaining
Russia’s posture of strategic defense.
Those in port and combat ready were standing by, but Karelin was
convinced that a single Typhoon would be enough to do the job. Typhoon
was the very image of the fleet’s nuclear strength. The mere thought of
one loosing its nuclear payload at the rebel forces would be enough to
bring about their utter capitulation.
“Will it work?” Marchenko asked at last. “Can it possibly work?”
“Moscow believes so, yes,” Karelin told him.
“But if their belief is wrong. If Leonov is able to arm even a few
missiles and retaliate …”
“The rebels have everything to lose through a nuclear exchange. And
nothing to win. We have only one immediate problem.”
“Yes. The possibility that Leonov is crazy enough to consider launching
missiles of his own!”
“Leonov is a Politician, Comrade Rear Admiral, not a madman. He will
not seriously contemplate the destruction of the Union’s industrial and
transportation infrastructure. No, our problem, Viktor Ivanovich, is
the Americans. As always.”
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