Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel (14 page)

BOOK: Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel
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“Captain, this is Vice Admiral Ivan Loktev, Deputy Commander of the Russian Northern Fleet, and Captain First Rank Viktor Zhikin, Commanding Officer of the 328
th
Expeditionary Rescue Squad. Admiral, Captain, Captain Yefim Sergievich Gribov, master of the icebreaker
50 Years of Victory
.”

“Admiral, Captain, welcome to
Victory
. May I offer you some tea? Biscuits?”

“Thank you, Comrade Captain,” replied Loktev hastily. “Perhaps later, but time is of primary importance. What is the status of your preparations for getting under way?”

Gribov wasn’t surprised by the admiral’s response, particularly after Gribov heard that the head of the Northern Fleet’s rescue divers was with him. “Admiral, my chief engineer is almost done with the reactor startup checklist. We should be ready to answer all bells within five or six hours. Provisions have already been ordered by Rosatom, and once they arrive my crew can have them loaded in a few hours. All I need to know is how many passengers I’m embarking, and where we are going.”

Loktev’s strained expression eased a little. Motioning to Zhikin, the captain broke out a chart and spread it on the table. Pointing to a spot on the northeast side of Novaya Zemlya, Loktev said, “We need to get Captain Zhikin’s divers to Techeniye Guba as quickly as possible.”

Gribov looked at the chart briefly and nodded. “Not a problem, Admiral. The ice this time of year in the Kara Sea is perhaps fifteen to eighteen centimeters thick.
Victory
can easily plow through that. The hull is rated for ice two and a half meters thick.”

“How fast can you get there?” The admiral’s face frowned again.

“My maximum speed is just over twenty-one knots, but that is only in open water. Even in thin ice, I have to slow down.” Gribov grabbed a pair of dividers and measured the distance. After calculating the time in his head, he said, “If all goes well, two days.”

The admiral nodded approvingly. “Excellent, Captain! You will be taking Captain Zhikin and twelve of his divers to these coordinates,” explained Loktev as he handed a sheet of paper to Gribov. “Myself and two of my staff will be accompanying them, as well as six Spetsnaz commandos.”

“Spetsnaz?!” Gribov exclaimed. “Admiral, just what are my crew and I getting into here?”

“That is a state secret that you don’t need to know, Captain,” growled Loktev. “Your job is to get Zhikin and his divers to Techeniye Guba. He’ll take care of the rest.”

26 March 2017

1400 Local Time

United Services Club

Mumbai, India

It felt good to finally relax. Dhankhar sipped his gin and tonic as he looked out across the club’s grounds to the Arabian Sea. The wind was coming off the water; its coolness refreshed the body, while the heady salty air invigorated the senses. The United Services Club was the perfect place to hold their meeting. It was an elite country club. Only serving and retired officers and a few prominent civilians could be members. Foreigners had to receive special permission, well in advance, to even step through the main gate. The club itself was located in the Colaba area of Mumbai. Situated at the far end of the peninsula, the club was deep within the Navy Nagar, or navy preserve, jointly run and policed by India’s armed forces. No one would consider it unusual for the country’s seniormost military officers to congregate at the exclusive club for a round of golf and cocktails. Now, with the eighteen holes behind them, they could get to the business part of their gathering.

“Come, Badu,” said Admiral Jal Rajan softly as he placed a hand on Dhankhar’s shoulder. “We are ready to begin the meeting.”

Dhankhar gave out a deep sigh, reluctant to leave his private tranquillity. “It’s so peaceful, Jal. I have so longed for this.”

“I know, my friend. And all of India will eventually enjoy a peace such as this, but only after our work is through. Now, come. You have the lead-off presentation.”

“Aye, sir,” Dhankhar replied, then downed the rest of his drink.

He strode into the conference room filled with a veritable Who’s Who of the Indian military. Admiral Rajan took his seat at the head table to the left of General Nirmal Joshi, Chief of Staff of the Army, and Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee. To Joshi’s right sat Air Chief Marshal Danvir Suri, Chief of Staff of the Air Force, and Lieutenant General Bipin Raina, Chief of the Integrated Defence Staff. These four were the most powerful men in the Indian armed forces, and the driving force behind Operation Vajra.

Named after the thunderbolt wielded by Indra, the Hindu king of the gods, and the god of weather and war, the nuclear strike against China was designed to finish the wounded dragon economically and politically. Although badly bruised by the war with the Littoral Alliance, China still possessed considerable military and economic power. Given time, she would recover. In the meantime, the Chinese waged a proxy war against India by providing substantial aid to Pakistan’s military, as well as the Islamic terrorist groups in the northern tribal region.

Following the U.S.-brokered truce between the Littoral Alliance and China, India suddenly found itself constrained militarily, unable to attack Chinese targets directly. China, on the other hand, was now free to pour resources into the shadow war it had started. As Pakistan’s resistance increased, buoyed by Chinese weapons and supplies, India’s offensive ground to a halt. With casualties rising, the Indian president agreed to peace negotiations and sent a team off to Geneva, despite the Chiefs of Staff Committee’s strong reservations. After months of heated discussions, there was still no resolution in sight, and the army began moving forward with its planned spring offensive.

Then in early January, the Indian minister of defense suggested in a press conference that a return to the status quo antebellum, Pakistan’s primary demand, was not outside the realm of possibility. Furious that their government would even consider abandoning captured territory before the main objectives for the war had been achieved, and after a river of Indian blood had been spilled, senior officers seriously considered a military coup. It was Dhankhar who suggested that the “center of gravity” of the conflict wasn’t the Indian government, or even Pakistan—it was China’s support to the Pakistanis. Without that support, the war would quickly be resolved in India’s favor. Dhankhar then volunteered that he had been in contact with someone who could provide the tools they would need to win, and knew how those weapons could be deployed secretly. The swift strike against China’s battered economy would be completely anonymous, and lethal. If the four men at the head table were the heart of Operation Vajra, Badu Singh Dhankhar was the brain.

“Gentlemen, would you please take your seats?” asked Joshi. As the stragglers shuffled over to their chairs, the general motioned for Dhankhar to come forward.

“First of all, I want to thank you all for coming,” Joshi continued. “I know this was an unexpected trip, but given the circumstances it couldn’t be helped. I would also like to thank our host, Vice Admiral Mehra, Chief of the Western Naval Command. You’ve done well, Pradeep, in arranging these wonderful accommodations on such short notice, but don’t think for a moment that this will excuse you from paying off your wagers on the golf game.”

The collection of men laughed while Mehra feigned disappointment. “Next, we’ll get a status update on Operation Vajra from Vice Admiral Dhankhar. Badu, the floor is yours.”

“Thank you, sir.” Dhankhar bowed toward the army chief of staff. “Gentlemen, soon after the unfortunate incident in Pakistan’s northern tribal region a little over two weeks ago, I spoke with General Joshi, Admiral Rajan, and Air Chief Marshal Suri, recommending that we speed up the timetable for executing Vajra.

“Initially, I was concerned with all the extra noses probing for the source of the Kashmiri weapon that someone might accidentally stumble across our facility. And, indeed, we did have a close call. Fortunately, two of our civilian colleagues with the Intelligence Bureau and the Central Bureau of Investigation provided sufficient warning to clear the workshop before the investigation team arrived. Assistant Deputy Director Singh and Special Director Thapar, I wish to publicly thank you for your critical services.”

The military officers present applauded heartily as the two civilians nodded their appreciation. Raising his hand, Dhankhar quieted his audience. “However, we are not out of the woods just yet. Even though the Americans’ analysis has categorically demonstrated the nuclear blast was not from an Indian weapon, which did have the beneficial result of terminating the internal investigation, the entire world is now looking for a possible Russian or Chinese source of rogue nuclear weapons. And this, gentlemen, represents an even greater threat to us, as there is a very short line connecting the Russian arms dealer to this august gathering.”

The crowd’s murmurings echoed the mixed feelings they all felt about the U.S. administration’s press release. On the one hand, India was no longer being held accountable for the “despicable act.” But on the other, a multinational effort had been launched to track down the source of the weapon, or weapons, obtained by the Pakistani terrorists. An internal Indian investigation was troubling enough, but it could be handled, and influenced. An international investigation sponsored by the major nuclear powers, and endorsed by Delhi, would be much more difficult to control.

“Therefore, it has been decided to keep to the accelerated schedule. In that vein, I’m pleased to report that the physics packages of the five remaining weapons have been removed from their parent reentry vehicles and the remnants were disposed of at sea. The modifications to the torpedoes are proceeding a little slower than I’d like, but with one less weapon to work on, the job should be done by about the eighth of April.

“INS
Chakra
is currently in the graving dock at the Vizag naval dockyard, and work to upgrade the fire control system to support the modified torpedoes and install the improved towed array sonar is well under way. Minor repairs to propulsion and secondary systems will also be done, but on a not-to-interfere basis. While the completion of these repairs is not a necessity for the mission, they do need to be done eventually, and doing them now not only enables us to make good use of limited dry-dock resources, but assists in the cover story. All modifications and repairs are on track to support the revised 10 April departure date.


Chakra
will then proceed at her best tactical speed to the initial target area, with the last weapon deployed on or about April twenty-seventh. Three days later, five of China’s busiest ports will be obliterated. This will reduce her export capability by at least half, along with the destruction of several major oil refineries and China’s two largest financial centers. The resulting economic shock will finish what the Littoral Alliance war started, and quite possibly hasten the fall of the communist government, which is under considerable stress. With China in the throes of civil unrest and chaos, her support to Pakistan will be significantly reduced, if not terminated completely. Then we can finish the job we started last year.” The sudden applause forced Dhankhar to pause. As soon as it died down, he continued.

“Finally, you’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve successfully renegotiated the final cost of acquiring and modifying five weapons instead of six, and that a refund to your private accounts will be forthcoming. Are there any questions?”

An air force flag officer raised his hand and rose when acknowledged by Dhankhar. “Badu, has there been any additional discussion on saving one or two of these weapons to strike Pakistan directly? We could severely degrade their nuclear retaliatory strike capability with two well-positioned weapons.”

Dhankhar sighed quietly; he’d heard this argument before, many times. “Yes, Uttam, it was briefly discussed and rejected for the same reasons as before. The use of these nuclear weapons must be anonymous, something we would very likely lose if we launched them at Pakistani nuclear targets. Our attack would not possess the element of stealth, and a severely degraded retaliatory strike capability still represents a significant threat. We cannot afford to have them destroy even one of our cities with a parting shot.”

The air force general persisted. “But Badu, thanks to the Pakistani terrorists blowing themselves up, we have an opportunity here to mask our attack behind their incompetence.”

“To what benefit, Uttam?” said General Joshi from the head table. “We all witnessed the scrutiny the world gave us when we were wrongly accused of the Kashmiri explosion. Even if we did improvise a delivery method for the devices, it would leave too many clues. The United States did some fine detective work to prove the weapon wasn’t of Indian origin. Do you honestly believe we could hide a direct attack against Pakistan from all those prying eyes?

“Yes, the LeT terrorists and their Pakistani handlers have a love/hate relationship. But no one would buy the terrorists blowing up Pakistani nuclear strike assets. It’s just too hard to believe, and those prying eyes would once again turn our way. No, Badu is correct. We must use these Russian weapons secretly and efficiently—and that means Chinese targets. This topic is now closed, gentlemen. Thank you, Badu, for your report.”

Dhankhar bowed and started walking back to his seat. He avoided looking in the air force general’s direction; the man had objected to Operation Vajra’s Chinese focus from the very beginning. Rumor had it that he was envious of the navy’s central role, but only the navy had a stealthy platform in the Akula-class submarine. And stealth was absolutely crucial to their ability to pull this gambit off. Dhankhar heard Joshi announce the next agenda item, a review of the central thrust of the spring offensive, but the admiral wasn’t particularly interested. That job was for the army and the air force. Unconcerned, he let his thoughts meander back to the targets and the effect a 150-kiloton warhead would have on them.

27 March 2017

1700 Local Time

Icebreaker
50 Years of Victory

BOOK: Fatal Thunder: A Jerry Mitchell Novel
9.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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