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FM: CINCPAC
1.
EVIDENCE CONTINUES TO MOUNT THAT RUSSIAN NAVAL FORCES INTEND TO CONTINUE THEIR ATTACK ON THE NORTH AND EAST COASTS OF HOKKAIDO XXX RPTD WARNINGS TO WITHDRAW HAVE BEEN IGNORED.
2.
PROCEED AT BEST POSSIBLE SPEED TO A POSITION FROM WHICH AIR OPERATIONS CAN BE CONDUCTED IN THE SOYA STRAIT.
3.
USE ALL MEANS AT YOUR DISPOSAL TO WARN RUSSIAN NAVAL FORCES OUT OF THE REGION XXX IF THAT FAILS YOU WILL ENGAGE THE ENEMY WITHOUT RESTRICTION.
4.
YOU MAY ACT INDEPENDENTLY OF LOCAL JAPANESE FORCES.
XXX
EOM
GOOD LUCK, AL.
Admiral Ryland and Captain Benson stepped off the
George Washington'
s bridge into the admiral's ready room.
“We can't stall any longer,” Benson said.
“Was that what we were doing, Tony?” Ryland asked. The Japanese were withdrawing their blockade from the mouth of Tokyo Bay, and after a brief but deadly skirmish in the East China Sea, the ASDF had also withdrawn to Tanegashima. He'd truly believed that the Russians would step back from the brink as well.
“You wanted the situation to stabilize. Well, it's gone about as far as it's going to go.”
“What can they be thinking? There has to be a mistake.”
Benson didn't ask who the admiral was referring to, the Russians or Washington. “We have our orders, Al.”
Ryland reread the message. It was tantamount to a declaration of war on Russia. “I want a confirmation, ASAP. We'll hold until then.”
“Very well.”
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Since they'd crossed the state line into New York, Mueller suspected that they were being followed. When
they'd stopped for gas outside Corning, Reid had come back from paying certain that the clerk had recognized him. A highway patrol car had followed them for about ten miles north of the rest stop, and then had dropped back, only to be replaced by another for a dozen miles. Either the Maryland Highway Patrol trooper he'd shot had survived to radio their description or eyewitnesses had provided a description of the Probe. Whatever the case, the authorities were showing what he thought to be remarkable restraint. They were wary. But they were too wary, which meant someone had told them who they were dealing with. McGarvey?
The roads had become slippery from the snow, which had increased in intensity throughout the evening.
“If you lose control and slide off the road, I will kill you,” he'd told Dominique, and she'd taken care with her driving.
Mueller studied a map which showed I-390 curved to the north toward Rochester in the next few miles. South of the city, I-90 branched off to the west to Buffalo and the Canadian border.
He looked up. Although it was dark and heavily snowing he could see that the countryside they were passing through was hilly and thickly wooded. A couple of miles to the west was a state park that would be closed at this time of the year, although he suspected there might be a park ranger on duty. In Europe park rangers lived through the winter seasons with their families in cabins. He couldn't think why it would be any different here.
He was faced with a difficult decision. The authorities might stand off for now, but they would never allow him to cross the Canadian border. Even if they did, he wouldn't get far with Reid and the woman. Either he would have to cut Reid loose and continue with Dominique as a hostage, or he would have to kill them both and make his own escape. In either event he needed to get off the main highways so that he could buy some time.
He was still faced with the problem of McGarvey, who would never stop coming after him.
He sat forward. “Take the next exit to the west. It will be marked Mount Morris. About five miles.”
Dominique glanced in the rearview mirror at him. She was terrified.
“What's wrong?” Reid asked.
“We are being followed, so we need to get another car,” Mueller replied.
Dominique glanced in the mirror again.
“If you do exactly as you are told, Ms. Kilbourne, no harm will come to you,” Mueller said reasonably.
“Yeah, right.”
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The navy pilot expertly set the ponderous Sikorsky SH-3D /L Sea King helicopter down in the median strip within twenty-five yards of the roadblock. The ceiling was low, and in the darkness and blowing snow they would have missed the landing spot except for the flashing lights from the dozen highway patrol cars.
“I'm damned if I know why we're going along with you, except I don't see any other choice,” Whitman said. He handed McGarvey his Walther, the two extra magazines of ammunition, and the thick silencer tube.
“I'll owe you a drink when this is over,” McGarvey replied, pocketing the ammo and silencer and holstering his pistol at the small of his back. He'd worried about Dominique all the way up. It was
déjà vu.
He'd been here before.
“If you're right, it'll be us owing you.”
They jumped down from the chopper and made their way up to the roadblock, where they were directed to the New York Highway Patrol officer in charge, Lieutenant Earl Lawton.
Whitman clipped his FBI badge to the zipper flap of his coat. “What's the situation?”
Lawton, a tall, slender man with drooping moustache, eyed McGarvey uncomfortably. “They should be coming up the road in about five minutes. Green Ford Probe. Bad guy is in the back seat. Woman driving. A second man in the passenger seat.”
“How do you know they'll be here in five minutes?” McGarvey asked.
“We've been following them so they can't double back.”
“Show me on a map.”
Lawton pulled a map out of his car. “We're here, at the Lakeville exit. They've already passed Sonyea, about fifteen miles south.”
“What's this?” McGarvey demanded.
“Mount Morris. Letchworth State Park.”
“Closed?”
Lawton nodded.
“Anybody living in or near the park?”
“There's Mount Morris, and I think there's probably a ranger on duty,” Lawton said. “What are you driving at? If they're trying to make I-90, and then the border at Buffalo, there'd be no reason for them to turn off.”
McGarvey looked down the highway. “Don't count on it.”
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“Al, your orders are confirmed,” CINCPAC Admiral Billy Floricher said.
“I'm going strong on the warnings before I start shooting,” Ryland replied. “They're stupid, not crazy.”
“The President has cleared it with Prime Minister Enchi. The Russians are telling us one thing while they're doing another.”
“There's a lot of that going around.”
“Good luck, Al.”
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Captain Lestov met with his officers in the
Strelka
's wardroom. They'd hovered in silence just below the thermocline at four hundred meters into the morning hours. Although they knew that other Russian submarines were somewhere in the vicinity, their passive sonar had picked up nothing in the past six hours. Nor had they received any ELF traffic from Vladivostok. For all intents and purposes they were utterly alone at the bottom of the sea.
“I think it is safe to say that although the Japanese
suspect we're down here, they cannot know our exact position,” Lestov said. Within an hour after they'd gone deep, he'd stood them down from battle stations missile. His officers were tense, as well they should be, but they were rested.
“When we launch a missile they'll know how to find us,” his XO, Lieutenant Commander Savin, said.
“This close to shore would put us in a difficult position, with little room to maneuver.”
“We have our orders.”
“
Da
, Viktor Abramovich. We have carried them out, have we not?”
“We did not completely destroy Wakkanai.”
“You suggest we press the attack?”
“Unless we receive orders to the contrary.” Savin was becoming uncomfortable, as were the other officers. It was a captain's duty to lead by decision, not by committee.
“I agree. But we also have a responsibility to our fine boat and crew. We've not been ordered to recklessly endanger our lives.”
Savin nervously fingered his cigarette. “Captain, I am confused. What are you telling us?”
“I am simply trying to gauge the mood and determination of my officers.”
“Captain, we are with you!”
“Even if my orders are to slink away like a coward in the night? Before a fight two men are boasting; afterward only one. Do you remember that proverb?”
Savin looked around the table at the other officers. He nodded. “
Da
. If that is your order.”
“If I turn the boat to the south and order full speed ahead so that we would be driven onto the beach?”
“That too, Captain.”
Lestov closed his eyes for a moment. God help him, but he did understand Moscow's orders, as he did their silence now. The Japanese had to be contained, even if it took a sacrifice of good men and ships.
“We will obey our orders,” he said. “First let's determine if Wakkanai is still transmitting. If it is, we shall
finish our attack. Afterward we will go home ⦠defending our retreat with every resource at our command.”
Savin nodded grimly.
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President Lindsay recalled the Russian ambassador to the White House. This time Zagorsky came alone.
“I'll come directly to the point, Mr. Ambassador. I have ordered the Seventh Fleet to the Soya Strait to assist Japanese forces in defending the island of Hokkaido and their territorial waters.”
“We are not attacking Japan,” Zagorsky said, keeping his voice as even as possible.
“At least three Russian submarines remain within a threatening position in the Soya Strait. No communications have been detected from Pacific Fleet Headquarters in Vladivostok ordering the withdrawal of those warships, despite President Yeltsin's promise to do so.”
“There are technical difficulties at the ELF transmitter.”
“Inform your government that a continued refusal to withdraw your forces will be considered an act of aggression against Japan, and, as our allies, against us.”
“Mr. President ⦔
“That's all,” Lindsay said coldly.
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“They should have been here by now,” McGarvey said, looking at his watch.
Lawton got in his squad car to use the radio. “Two-Seven-Baker, this is Lawton. Where are you?”
“We're coming up on the Mount Morris exit. Have they reached you?”
“No,” Lawton said.
“They turned off,” McGarvey said. “Get your people on the other side of the park and block those roads. In the meantime I need to borrow one of your cars.”
“We'll do this my wayâ”
“If you crowd him a lot of your people are going to get hurt. This guy is a professional.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Lawton demanded angrily.
“You don't want to know,” Whitman said. “Give us a car and a driver who knows the area.”
“Is the FBI taking over this case?”
“We're here to assist,” Whitman said. “We want to take Mueller and the others alive. How about a car? We don't have a lot of time.”
“Goddammit,” Lawton swore. He got out of the car. “Alger,” he shouted.
One of the highway patrol cops came back. “Lieutenant?”
“Take these guys down to Mount Morris,” Lawton said.
“Block the roads out,” Whitman advised.
“You've got one shot, then I'm sending my people in,” Lawton warned.
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The Marine VH-3 helicopter landed a few yards from the Sikorsky parked in the median strip. Ryan and his two domestic operations officers hurried over to where Lawton was radioing orders to his people.
“You in charge here?” Ryan interrupted.
“Now who the hell are you guys?” Lawton demanded.
Ryan showed him his CIA identification. “Where's McGarvey?”
“Mount Morris,” the cop said. “Would you mind telling me what's going on?”
“We'll need a car and driver.”
“Of course.”
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“Mr. President, I think you should call Yeltsin and explain to him what we're doing,” Secor suggested.