The General's President (26 page)

He paused for emphasis. "And I personally would like to see an amendment allowing federal legislation by popular referendum; let the people vote on key issues. It would stimulate public interest and discussion in issues, and reduce the power of special interest lobbies."

He paused. "And full use should be made of the experience we will have had under this emergency government. I'll be installing more new ways of doing certain things, and if they work—if the people like them—I'd expect them to be continued.

"As for who should draw up any constitutional amendments: The Constitution defines that. The Congress proposes, and the state legislatures approve or disapprove.

"Although when the time comes, I'd like to see a nationwide referendum on the proposed amendments, so the American people can express themselves on them as guidance for the legislatures.

"And that," he said to Morrows, "is all I have to say about that."

Senator Brosnan leaned elbows on his desk. "Thank you for your time and frankness, Mr. President. You've answered a lot of questions, and I'm sure you've set to rest some misgivings and concerns, as well as providing food for thought." He looked around at the committee. "That ends the session for today. This committee will meet again tomorrow morning at nine-thirty."

***

Julie Cromwell looked at her father, and he at her. "Daddy," she said, "I don't know how this is going to turn out. But right now I'd have to say you did a damned good job of picking your man."

TWENTY-THREE

For more than a year, Barron Tallmon had coveted access to a particular concealed safe; coveted it since he'd first known of it. Not to rob it; his idiosyncracies did not include any particular desire to steal. But to know what was in it; he was a snoop.

More recently he'd become a snoop with an intent to injure. Maximally. Also recently, by means of an audiovisual bug he'd gotten hold of, he'd watched Massey dial the safe.

He had free access to Massey's office of course, and occasionally entered it legitimately. This time he entered it with treachery in mind.

Aided in the gray dawn by a small, tightly focused flashlight, he opened the safe. Inside, it was larger and deeper than he'd thought, containing two metal boxes, some large envelopes, and a book. His hands, unexpectedly shaking, withdrew one of the boxes at random. Finding the lid unlocked, he knelt with it on the carpet.

It held photographs and papers. He looked through them, careful not to disturb their order. All were old, perhaps kept for their blackmail potential. He filed in his memory the principal surname involved—it might prove useful—put the items back into the metal box, and returned it to the safe.

The book, richly bound, took his attention again. After a moment's hesitation, he removed it, and in the growing dawnlight scanned the large type of its first vellum page, its second, then beyond. His fingers and eyes moved quickly, then putting it back, he closed and locked the safe and slipped quickly from the room.

The next time Mr. Massey went to New York and left him here, Tallmon told himself, he'd photocopy the book.

***

On the second day after his congressional appearance, the president convened the National Security Council to hear Norman Godfrey, the CIA's chief specialist on the situation in the USSR. The CIA felt it had a reasonably complete and accurate picture now of the current situation there. Besides Godfrey and the Council—the president, vice president Cromwell, Secretary of State Coulter, and Secretary of Defense Campbell—several others were present around the large table: Milstead, as usual, and the directors of the CIA, the Defense Intelligence Agency, and the State Department's Bureau of Intelligence and Research. In addition, Father Flynn sat out of the way in the background.

After introducing Godfrey, the president turned to the CIA director. "Dr. Blackburn," he said, "is there anything you'd care to fill us in on before Mr. Godfrey begins the briefing?"

The CIA director stood up. "One thing, Mr. President—a matter of security; the gentleman in the clerical collar, whom you neglected to introduce. I believe his name is Stephen Joseph Flynn. He has no function here, and I recommend you send him out. We can anticipate some sensitive information being discussed."

The president didn't answer at once, but his face darkened visibly, and all eyes drew to him as if to a funnel cloud. The silence was electric, and after a very long fifteen seconds, the president spoke, his words measured. "Dr. Blackburn, I do not invite security risks to NSC meetings, nor do I need you to approve whom I invite. And if you ever again imply that the President of the United States is a fool, be very very careful that it's not to his face."

The tone of voice was dead calm, deadly calm, and the director's face reddened while Haugen spoke. At the end, the president's eyes locked with his, and the pink paled to an astonishing whiteness. For a moment it looked as if Blackburn might faint from lack of blood to the brain, and some of the others wondered what he'd seen in those blue eyes.

There was another long moment of silence, which Blackburn broke. "My apologies, sir," he said.

The eyes did not at once let him go, but when Haugen spoke again, his tone was casual, if more metallic than usual. "Sit, Dr. Blackburn."

The man sat, still pale, and the president turned his gaze to the specialist. "Further introduction shouldn't be necessary, Mr. Godfrey. We know your post, and we can assume you're qualified, so go ahead and start. We may interrupt from time to time, but mostly we'll try to let you talk, and save any questions till after you're done."

"Fine, sir." Godfrey seemed perhaps the least affected of them all by the president's unexpected anger, and it occurred to Haugen that Godfrey was probably the one here who knew Blackburn best. Perhaps he'd been pleased at what had happened; that could explain his calm.

"I was told you wanted this to start with the Kremlin coup," Godfrey said, "but I'd like to begin a few steps earlier, with the events just before the invasion of Iran. They seem definitely to be related." Haugen nodded. "Fine. Go ahead." Godfrey's focus withdrew inward to his subject. "The worsening worldwide economic decline of the past few years hit the Soviet Union too," he began. "Their perennial agricultural problems had eased somewhat with Gorbachev's reforms, but two successive drought years presented the Soviets with really serious food shortages. And the depression made the effects a lot worse than before, by seriously hurting their dollar inflow from exports: minerals, arms—even natural gas sales from their new pipeline to Europe. Which severely restricted their ability to import food, notably grain, because their credit wasn't worth much." He smiled ruefully. "There's been a lot of that going around lately.

"So there'd been some big demonstrations in the Soviet Union—even in the Russian Federated Republic, where that sort of thing had been almost unheard of. Less visible but more to the point, worker morale and discipline had slumped everywhere, and that includes Siberia, where the population has more freedom and privileges than elsewhere. And of course, industrial production slumped when discipline and morale slumped, which we can assume led to a further reduction in discipline and morale."

He paused and looked around at the others. "Those are things we have information on. Now we get into speculation. Our assumption is that the Kremlin decided to use their big military resource to develop some trade leverage, through a small, relatively safe war that could also be used to drum up the patriotism of the Russian people. Those, of course, are both ploys that other governments have used from time to time.

"And Iran was a likely target: Most of its army was in Iraq, and a puppet government in Teheran would give the Soviets trade leverage. We know now that the possibility was at least brought up in the Kremlin that with a puppet government in place, a Soviet-Iranian syndicate might be formed—a Soviet operation, actually; the Iranians would be window-dressing—to rehabilitate the gulf oilfields and refineries in return for long-term credits from Japan, western Europe, and others.

"The proposal may not look very promising, considering the Iranian topography, present Soviet resources, and the general hostility of Iranians to foreign influence, let alone foreign control. But sense or not, the fact is that the Soviets invaded. Really, the economic situation in the USSR is probably as bad as ours, overall—worse in some respects, not as bad in others—and there was undoubtedly a strong element of desperation in the situation." Godfrey shrugged. "And desperation can easily result in poor decisions.

"We're pretty much satisfied," he went on, "that Kulish and the Politburo never intended to take and control the entire country of Iran. Capture Teheran and establish a puppet regime; that was the rumor in the Party Central Committee. And of course, the Central Committee has its pipelines into the Politburo and the Military Council.

"Subsequent events indicate there was also a predictable side project of setting up an Iranian extension of the Afghan semi-autonomous Soviet Baluchistan, just to keep things upset and violent; if Iran ever became an independent nation again, a separate Baluchistan would ensure perennial trouble for it in the south.

"And if the Soviets decided later to pull out—even if a Shiite theocracy took over again there—the Soviets could always say they'd accomplished what they'd purportedly invaded for; to get the Iranians out of Iraq."

He spread his hands. "So trade leverage and a spur to patriotism seem to have been the Kremlin's rationale for the invasion. Which brings us to the coup.

"We definitely know that the Soviet army was very unhappy with Kulish's continuing rehabilitation of the KGB. And that it had been unhappy for years with Kremlin management of the economy. They considered, and correctly, that the Central Committee did a lot poorer job of running the civilian bureaucracy than the Military Council did with the military bureaucracy. But of course, thev were overlooking the difference in scope and circumstance."

Godfrey had shifted into a lecture mode. But he was a good lecturer, Haugen decided, and the subject was interesting.

"Meanwhile," Godfrey was saying, "things at home hadn't improved with the invasion. Civilian morale in Russia itself may or may not have risen a bit, but in the rest of the Soviet Union it definitely got worse. You know about the strikes and riots and sabotage in the Moslem SSRs.

"And then of course there was the truck-bomb explosion in Tashkent, in the Uzbek SSR. That shook a lot more than buildings; it shook the entire upper strata of government to realize that such a thing could happen in the Soviet Union. It was a trauma that went far beyond the physical damage; that we know as fact.

"So our conjecture is that Pavlenko and his immediate group in the Ministry of Defense decided to take over. And they needed—let's call it covering fire. We definitely know that Pavlenko's aide, Colonel Ivan Milukov, had flown to Teheran the day after it was captured, and talked to Army General Zotov there. We believe he carried a secret order from Pavlenko to attack into Iraq.

"An order not from the Politburo, but from the Ministry of Defense.

"Of course, they'd already have had a contingency plan for that. General staffs make plans for almost everything." Godfrey's eyes moved to Cromwell. "As the vice president can tell you, that's part of the job. The purpose of Milukov's trip would have been to activate it."

Haugen stopped him with a gesture. "Back up a step, Norman. You said Pavlenko's people needed covering fire to take over. What do you mean, 'covering fire?' And how does that tie in with ordering the invasion of Iraq?"

"Basically, sir, an expansion of the war would hold a considerable amount of national attention. The people wouldn't have their attention just on the coup; it wouldn't seem like quite such an enormity to the Russian people. And it's the
Russian
people we're talking about, not all the Soviet people.

"Also, an attack southwest toward Iraq
without Politburo orders
would absolutely have to draw severe disciplinary action against army high command. In Soviet politics, anything less would be taken as a fatal sign of weakness. And in the face of severe disciplinary action, a coup could be explained as the patriotic army defending itself against the corrupt Party. As it was, in a sense of the word.

"And with the military controlling the government, if for some reason they decided to pull out of Iraq, they could always say it was the old regime that had ordered them in. Who would there be to call them liars?

"Anyway, we have firm information that the Kremlin called Zotov to Moscow for disciplinary action. And he obeyed, to the extent that, that night, he got on a plane and started back. But
obeyed
doesn't seem to be quite the word for it. He probably went because flying back to Moscow would help the army cover its intention. His seeming to obey would make it look as if the army wasn't ready for a showdown.

"But his plane stopped at Vnukovo Airfield, some twenty miles southwest of Moscow, to avoid his arrest by KGB troops we know were waiting for him at Sheremetyevo Airfield.

"And at 0915 the next day, two companies of
spetsnaz
made a low-altitude daylight drop inside the Kremlin walls. That's about 230 men, all topflight killers. There was a firefight with the elite KGB troops inside that must have been a doozy. But when an airborne assault brigade began landing from Mi-6 helicopters, minutes later, in and around Red Square, the
spetsnaz
had the Kremlin gates open for them.

"At the same time, 0915 hours, a parachute division, replete with light tanks, armored rocket launchers, and armored automatic mortars, began dropping near KGB headquarters, outside the ring road, and enveloped it. Then they proceeded to more or less blow it apart, with everyone in it. There was quite a firefight there, too. By attacking in the daytime, they caught and destroyed probably seventy-five or eighty percent of the KGB headquarters staff. And with the certain exception of the
spetsnaz
, it's very doubtful that anyone below the level of regimental commander knew where they were going when they took off, or what they intended to do; so that hopefully no KGB spies would find out. They probably got their orders in flight.