ARMAGEDDON'S SONG (Volume 3) 'Fight Through' (23 page)

“…if for instance,
‘Tuscan
Ranger’
is a KGB master spy or the
equivalent of Woody Allen as 007.”

“Or just,” Put in Ben Dupre, “A fifth level Barbarian
warrior with level two spell casting abilities.”

The President shook his head slowly.

“It’s bad enough that we could have been penetrated so
seriously, but now I know we’re in trouble if my FBI chief is familiar with
nerdy role playing games.”

Ben shrugged as Terry chuckled, but then the President
returned to the business at hand.

“So, it’s a case of,
better the spy you know than the spy you don’t
, then?”

Terry nodded in agreement, which hardly pleased the
chief executive.

“So is that it?”

“No Mister President, there is more and I believe that
it could possibly be of practical use to us, if not against the new Soviet
Union, then certainly against the PRC.” He brought up on the screen the last
two page of Peridenko’s list, and these bore names of individuals from the PRC,
North Korea, and all the countries of the new Soviet Union, including Russia.

“If I were a gambling man, I would be willing to bet
all my money that Peridenko had plans to achieve high office, and had already
put into place the means to acquire the Premiership.”

The names on the screen were all military men, and all
in prominent positions in their countries armed forces.

“Which I think you will agree indicates an element of
foresight and forward planning.” He highlighted a trio of Chinese officers.

“For instance, if you weren’t willing to share power
with your principle ally then the positions these characters hold could give
you the knife to stick into the PRC’s proverbial back.” One name in particular
stood out due to his apparent position in the Peoples Republics equivalent of
America’s National Security Agency.

The Chinese text appeared and with it a translation.
Terry removed from an inside pocket a copy of the CD Rom which Serge had
carried, placing it before him on the conference table.

“Alontov also carried a CD Rom sewn into his clothing
and this is booby trapped with some very aggressive viruses, however despite
this and the fact that the software and hardware to play this are rather
specialised, NSA is confident that they can tell us what the hell it is exactly
within a few more hours.”

The rest of the room were looking at the translation,
but most of it was apparently referring to the CD Rom.

“Mister Jones, why would he be carrying a CD and not a
USB? And do we have any ideas what it does?”

“The first is simple sir; a CD is more resistant to
electro-magnetic pulse, EMP, than a USB. Secondly, there is a chance that this
disc is something that may get us access to somewhere that would be of
advantage to us. I cannot say more than that at the moment, because we just
don’t know for certain.”

Lord knows we could do with some luck, thought the
President.

“So what are we going to call this thing? And who will
have access?”

“The codename for the CD’s location and its standalone
systems is
‘Church’
. All matters related to the contents of the CD will
be known as
Choir Practice
, and we in this room, plus the three specialists who
are cracking the CD, are
‘The Choir’
.”
“Spare me!” grunted the President, disparagingly
under his breath.

“Is there an issue with the choice of code name, sir?”

“No, I am sure that is adequate, Mr Jones…but I won’t
hang up the bunting until we know more.”

He looked across at Henry who was replacing the
telephone receiver.

“General Shaw, are you ready with the
Guillotine
and
Equaliser
updates?”

Terry cleared the screen and ejected his disc, handing
the floor back to the CJC.

Henry placed his own disc in the drive, bringing up
Gansu Province and zooming in the picture on to a range of mountains southwest
of the Gobi desert.   

“We, or rather the men on the ground behind enemy
lines in the PRC, have met with a serious set-back and they have taken
casualties.”

Leaning forward in his seat the President interrupted.

“Are they compromised?”

With a shake of the head Henry explained.

“There has been a great deal of snowfall in the past
week out there, and the storm that had them socked in added a shit load more.
The teams were scaling a rock face of about 500 feet in height when a passing
PRC helicopter triggered an avalanche. Two men are dead including one of the
team leaders, another three have injuries that will prevent them continuing,
and in addition to this, three of the laser designators have been destroyed.”

The President breathed the Eff word.

“Can they continue as planned?”

“That’s a negative, sir.”

“How long do we have before we need to give them a
revised plan?”

“It is not necessary sir; Major Dewar is going for the
ICBM field. He has left two of the slightly injured behind to look after the
fracture cases and he has taken the remainder, plus the remaining designators
westwards toward the silos.”

“Is he authorised to make that decision, General?” The
President had been trying to visualise the condition the teams were now in, and
the adverse weather conditions they had encountered he assumed that with their
losses the commander would have requested instructions.

“Firstly, he is the commander on the ground and knows
their capabilities better than we do, and secondly he is British.” Henry
shrugged.

“He doesn’t work for us Mister President.”

The President glared at Henry.

“You know I didn’t mean that General. This is a joint
operation, but doesn’t he have to ask permission before he writes off half of
the mission goals?”

General Shaw nodded an apology.

“It is a simple matter of arithmetic, and Dewar knows
he doesn’t have enough to do both jobs anymore so he’s going to neutralise the
greatest threat.”

“Okay then, okay. Is there anything else on that
particular element of
Equaliser
?”

There was nothing more from China and Henry moved on
to the North Pacific.

“In stark contrast to the previous item, I now have
some feel good news for you, sir.”

The picture was quite hard to make out, mainly owing
to the lack of light, but then a darker shape appeared from the left of the
screen, travelling right across to disappear out the other side, but the
President was unable to make out what it was.

“That was taken by HMS
Hood
and it has now been
digitally cleaned up and enhanced.”

This time everyone could make out the shape of a
submarine, and it was not one of their own vessels. It carried a conning tower
similar in design to that of a Russian Delta III, but sat much further forward
on the hull than on the Russian design, however, the flat topped SLBM
compartment, sitting platform-like above the after hull was also a feature in
keeping with a Delta.

“The
Hood
had a firing solution locked down twelve hours before
they took these hull shots, but as you can appreciate it was necessary to get
close enough to see if it was the
Xia
or the
Chuntian
, and they struck gold. They have returned now to
tailing the
Xia
and are about four thousand metres from her.” 

The President cleared his throat.

“General, I know you and Mister Jones have given me
your assurances already, but are you absolutely certain that this is the only
one that they’ve got?”

“Mister President, there was the
Changzheng 6,
which was also a converted
Han
but she was lost at sea in the eighties. They don’t
have any more, sir.”

“Let’s hope.”

“Roger that.”

It was the best he could have hoped for and he had to
settle for that.

“Has the
Chuntian
been located yet?”

“It cannot be entirely comfortable out there, sort of like
being in the woods at night and knowing you are not alone, however Mister
President, although we have not yet located the
Chuntian
, the
Xia
is
now boxed on three sides. We can take her anytime we want and the skippers are
one hundred per cent in agreement that they will find
Chuntian
before she finds them.”

Leaning back in his chair the President signalled for
a refill of his coffee mug before speaking.

“So one part of
Equaliser
is in place, and
Guillotine
just awaits a location…or do you have something from
Russia?”

“No Mr President, only to state that we have three
RORSATs  dedicated purely for
Guillotine
that are sat on pads ready to go and that India and
Pakistan have begun sabre rattling at one another, as have the Vietnamese and
Kampucheans. They have got to the stage where their artillery can be heard
sounding off and the casualty reports are quite believable.”

The President was quiet for a while as he thought
about the ‘What if’s’, the question marks associated with any operations
chances of success or failure.

“What, if anything, can go wrong with those
satellites” the President queried “…tropical storms?
Sabotage?”

Henry shook his head but in a non-committal fashion.

“Sir, in order to guard against weather problems we
will have one at Vandenberg and two on pads down south, on the
Ariane
launch pad and also on the
Soyuz
pad.”

The President gave a cold smile.

“Strangely fitting I feel…but please continue General.”

“Hurricanes up here or typhoons down there do not have
predictable seasons any more, not since the nukes cooked off in the Atlantic so
we are hedging our bets by covering for those eventualities. At worst we will
have one RORSAT up when Major Nunro goes after the Premier’s scalp, but we are
robbing Peter to pay Paul as it leaves only the smaller commercial European
launch pad available down there, and of course Kennedy and Canaveral free for
the normal business of keeping satellites up long enough to be effective over
the battlefield .” Henry paused to glance at some notes for a second.

“Security is tight at our end and an indefinite lock
down is in place but that is going to cause issues soon.”

The President frowned.

“How so?”

“The French have the benefit of a handy jungle and
mangrove swamps full of things that will eat you, whereas we have troops on
full alert with nothing to keep their highest level of alertness going
indefinitely, and with the best will in the world and the best NCOs kicking
ass, an unused knife will go dull through lack of use.”

Never having been in that situation the President
could only take Henry’s word for it and so he moved along to the mock war
between India and Pakistan.

“What are they firing at?”

“Nothing.”
Henry shrugged.
“Blank rounds only, but the media aren’t being allowed close enough to know the
difference.”

“Okay, anything else?”

Henry cleared the screen and held up both hands,
crossing his fingers and stating

“No, Mister President.”

The President accepted his coffee with a smile of
thanks and consulted his wristwatch.

“Right then people, that will be all for now.” Henry
stood along with the rest but felt the President looking at him.

“Stay a while General, I’d like to speak to you about
Australia.” Henry regained his seat and sat with his hands together on the
table in front of him.

Remembering something the President called over to
Terry, halting him half way out the door.

“Oh,
Mister Jones?”

Terry stepped aside to allow Ben to exit.

“Yes, sir?”

“Do your people have a contact number for SFC Beckett?”

“Yes sir, Mister President?” Terry nodded.

“Good, extend his leave to forty eight hours and then
get him on a plane here. I’d like to meet him before he returns overseas.”

Terry hesitated.

“Why, sir?”

“Why not?”
Putting his mug
down he turned sideways in his seat to face the door.