Mounting Fears (2 page)

“No people?” Will asked.

“Everyone seems to be inside the buildings, but you can see dead bodies here, here and here, around the perimeter fence.”

“What missiles are present?”

“I can answer that,” General Boone said. “There are six silos, two of which contain nuclear-tipped missiles. The others are conventional high explosive.”

“Do we know the tonnage?”

“We believe no more than ten kilotons each,” the general said, “perhaps less.”

“That’s what, half the tonnage of the Hiroshima bomb?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What range?”

“We think no more than a thousand miles. They could reach all of northwestern India, including Delhi.”

“But not Israel.”

“No, sir. But if they were able to move a missile to the southwestern corner of Afghanistan, they could just about do it.”

“But they can’t move them?”

“There are two mobile missile launchers inside one of the buildings, but it would be quite a job to load a missile onto one and truck it four or five hundred miles, then fire. We think that very unlikely, and if they tried it we could knock out the vehicle and the missile.”

“If they were to attempt such a thing, how long might it take them?”

The general permitted himself a small shrug. “A week, ten days, perhaps.”

“Let’s keep that in mind during our planning.”

The vice president, George Kiel, spoke up. “How far to the nearest Pakistani military base?”

“Thirty miles,” the general replied.

“And what forces are present there?”

“An armored regiment.”

Will spoke up. “I don’t see how they could attack the missile site with that sort of force,” he said, “without risking a launch. They could certainly hit any city in Pakistan.”

“Correct, Mr. President,” the general said. “The key would be speed, to get there before the invaders get a grip on how to fire a missile.”

“That could be a very short time.” Lance Cabot, the CIA DDO, had spoken for the first time, and everyone turned and looked at him.

“They would need time to persuade the staff to start firing missiles,” the general said.

“Not if they had one or more men on the inside,” Cabot said, “and we know there have been terrorist attempts to penetrate the Pakistani nuclear program.”

“That’s troubling,” Will said.

“If it’s true,” the general countered. “Mr. Cabot, do you have any evidence of such a penetration or even an attempt?”

Cabot opened a folder in front of him. “Three weeks ago, we received a report from a source inside the Pakistani government that two technicians at this site had not returned from weekend leave on schedule. They still have not returned. Up to now, at least.”

The room was silent for a long moment.

“General Boone,” Will said, “have you had time to do any planning? And if so, do we have the relevant forces available?”

“Mr. President, we have a detachment of Navy SEALs deployed in the mountains, less than a hundred miles from the missile site.”

“How many men?”

“Thirty, plus support people.”

“Thirty doesn’t sound like many.”

“There may be no Taliban other than the invading party,” Boone said.

“But we have no intelligence on the size of that party?”

“Correct, sir.”

“Do we know which silos contain the nuclear warheads?” Will asked.

“No, sir, but the Pakistanis do. So that information should be available to us.”

“Is it possible, if the SEALs could get into the compound, to destroy the missiles in their silos without setting off a nuclear blast?”

“Theoretically, sir.”

“Certainly,” Cabot said, interrupting. “The warheads are wired
not
to explode in the silos; they are armed by radio after firing.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” the general said.

“
We
know for sure,” Cabot replied. “We’ve known since before the missiles were deployed. I would have thought the Pentagon would know it, too.”

“If we sent a few cruise missiles in there with conventional warheads,” Will asked, “could we knock out the nukes before they could be fired?”

“In theory,” Cabot said, looking at Boone. “General?”

Boone turned to the president. “Sir, the site was chosen to make that difficult, with high mountains surrounding it. An air strike would be more vertical—and more precise.”

“What defenses would the site have against an air attack?” Will asked. “I presume that the surrounding mountains would reduce the effectiveness of radar until the aircraft were right on top of them.”

“That’s probable, sir,” the general replied. “There are ground-to-air defensive missiles on the site. We don’t know how many.”

“All right,” Will said. “We need more information. General Boone, I think you should contact your counterpart in the Pakistani army and get a full report on the defensive capabilities of the missile site, and then you should start plans for both an air strike and a ground assault immediately following.”

“Mr. President, the Pakistanis are probably in a position to make both efforts before we could.”

“For planning purposes, assume that they can’t or won’t do it in a timely manner,” Will said.

“You understand, sir, that such a move on our part would constitute an attack on the soil of a friendly nation?”

“Of course, but I would rather deal with that than with the after-math of a nuclear explosion,” Will said. “Now Madame Director and gentlemen, the vice president and I need the room for a while, and I assume you all would like to speak to your respective headquarters.”

Everyone stood and filed out, except the president and vice president.

“Now, George,” Will said, “let’s talk.”

3

WILL LOOKED AT HIS VICE PRESIDENT. HE HAD NOT SEEN HIM FOR MORE THAN A week, and he seemed to have lost weight. “How are you, George?” he asked.

“Will, I’m not well. I’ve had a recurrence of the prostate cancer, and I’m scheduled for surgery this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. Have they given you a prognosis?”

“I’m afraid it has already spread. I know this is an awkward time to hear this, but I’m not going to be able to be on the ticket.”

“George, you warned me when we teamed up four years ago that you would only serve one term, but I had hoped you might change your mind. Your advice on foreign affairs has been invaluable.”

“Thank you, Will. I appreciate that. As a parting gift, may I give you my assessment of Mohammed Khan during this crisis?”

“I was going to ask you for that,” Will said.

“He’s an odd duck—strong in some areas, very weak in others. In the past, he has not performed well under this sort of pressure, not that anyone has ever had this sort of pressure weighing on him.”

“What do you think he will do?”

“I think he will be forced to act immediately, perhaps rashly, in order not to appear weak. If he does, given the state of the Pakistani forces, I think he is likely to fail, and if he fails, it’s going to be very bad, and his own military will want his head.”

“He’s been a good friend to us in a number of ways,” Will said, “but I have to say I concur with your views. My immediate inclination is to send in our aircraft and the SEALs.”

“That would be my view, as well,” Kiel said, “but it’s a move fraught with risk. We’ve never confronted a situation where a terrorist group has got hold of a nuclear weapon, and now these people have two.”

“Yes,” Will said. “I’m also inclined to think that this act was extremely well planned and executed, and I expect that they decided what they were going to do with the missiles before they attacked.”

“I think you’re probably right.”

“God, I hope we have time to get a grip on it before they move further,” Will said.

Kiel stood up and offered his hand. “A car is waiting to take me to Walter Reed,” he said. “All I can do now, Will, is to wish you luck.”

“Thank you, George. Good luck with the surgery and thank you for your exceptional service during our first term. Please give Doris my best, and know that you will be in our prayers.”

The two men shook hands, and Kiel left.

Will picked up the phone and asked for Tim Coleman, his chief of staff.

“Yessir?”

“Tim, George Kiel is undergoing surgery for prostate cancer today and is out of the campaign. Ask Kitty to coordinate with his press secretary about an announcement.”

“Sir, you might consider announcing it at the convention.”

“Maybe. You get together with Kitty, Tom Black, and our leadership in the Congress and come up with some names. We all know who they’re going to be, but it’s important to consult.”

“Do you have a top candidate in mind?” Tim asked.

“I’d appoint Sam Meriwether in a heartbeat, but we can’t have both members of the ticket from one county.” Sam Meriwether had been Will’s own congressman before he had won Will’s Senate seat in a special election. He had acted as Will’s campaign manager when he first ran and was this time, as well.

“Yeah, well …” Tim said. “We’ll get on this right away.”

“I’m going to need some names before I get on that helicopter,” Will said.

“I wish George had given us more notice.”

“He didn’t know himself, and, after all, he did tell me he would be around for only the first term.” Will looked down and saw a light flashing on his phone. “I’ve gotta go.” He pressed the button.

“Mr. President,” the operator said, “I have President Khan of Pakistan for you.”

“Good. Find everybody who was meeting in the Situation Room and get them back here, please.” He pressed the relevant button. “President Khan?”

“Yes, Mr. President. I can give you some information now.”

“Please, go ahead.” He looked up to see Kate and Lance Cabot enter the room. “If you agree, I will put you on speaker, so that my people may hear you.”

“Yes, please do.”

The military people were entering the room as Will pressed the speaker button. “Please go ahead, Mr. President,” he said.

“We estimate a detachment of forty to fifty in the initial assault,” Khan said, “and they appear to be bringing in more people and fortifying the site now. There have been fatalities outside the building, but we have no knowledge of what happened inside. We suspect that the Taliban may have kidnapped two technicians earlier, so they may have launch capabilities.”

“Excuse me, Mr. President,” Will said, “but doesn’t launching require codes?”

“Yes. In theory, only I can give the order, but the officer carrying the codes disappeared this morning, and we cannot locate him. We suspect that he may either have been taken by the Taliban or Al Qaeda or be in collusion with them.”

“Please go on, Mr. President.”

“I have given the order for an attack,” Khan said, “and assault troops from a nearby base are moving into position as we speak.”

“Mr. President, do you have shelter available that will withstand a nuclear attack?”

“I am leaving momentarily for my bunker,” Khan replied.

“Good. Can you tell us which of the silos contain the nuclear warheads?”

“I will instruct my military staff to communicate with yours on that subject,” Khan replied. “Now if you will excuse me, I must go.”

“Good-bye, Mr. President, and good luck,” Will said, but Khan had already hung up. He replaced the receiver and looked around the table. “Who has an update?”

General Boone spoke. “I have been in touch with the Pakistani military headquarters but was unable to speak with the commanding general. I got a feeling that the place was chaotic.”

Kate spoke. “Our people on the ground suspect that at least some of the military command may have defected or revolted. A coup may be imminent.”

“A coup in whose favor?” Will asked.

“We don’t know,” Kate said, “but Khan, of course, is a figure of hatred for fundamentalist Muslims. If he’s replaced, it’s not going to be with somebody we like.”

Will turned to Boone. “General, how quickly could we attack the installation if the order were given now?”

“Given the logistics, not before midnight,” Boone said, “but I’ve already placed the relevant units on alert and ordered the aircraft armed.”

“Can you begin moving the SEALs closer to the installation?”

“They’re less than an hour away by helicopter, so they’re better off waiting where they are.”

“Madame Director, please get in touch with Israeli intelligence. I don’t know if they’re aware of this situation yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t want them jumping into this. Let them know that they’re under no immediate threat. Also, please brief the secretary of state and ask him to call his counterpart in India and tell them what’s happened. It’s possible that Delhi might be a target for these missiles.”

“Yes, Mr. President.” She got up and left the room.

“General Boone,” Will said, “what can we do that we haven’t already done?”

“Militarily, nothing, Mr. President. Politically, well that’s up to you.”

“Lance, do we have any indication that anyone else knows about this yet?”

“No, Mr. President, but the lid won’t be on it long, so I suggest we operate as if everybody knows.”

“I’m not ready to announce this,” Will said.