Page 64

CHAPTER 63

B ETHESDA

“A what?” Maggie asked, as her boss dropped a stack of folders on the conference room table and made himself comfortable.

“A loyalty test,” Conroy repeated. “Can we get some coffee in here?”

After a staffer disappeared to fetch a carafe, Maggie said, “Expound on that.”

“It’s pretty simple. Regardless of the propaganda Peshkov and the Kremlin put out, Russia is getting its ass kicked in Ukraine. Nobody knows that better than the people closest to the top—Peshkov’s inner circle. That’s also where the biggest challenges to his power are likely to come from.”

“So, he brings everyone down to Cape Idokopas for what?”

“The world’s biggest fireworks show!” replied Conroy. “His own version of the Trinity test.”

“A light dinner, a little dancing, and then he just airdrops a tactical nuke over the Black Sea?”

“Exactly.”

“Did POTUS give you this idea?”

Conroy shook his head. “It came up in discussion with the national security advisor.”

“I think he’s been watching too many Godfather movies.”

“If you’ll pardon my French, it is the ultimate dick-measuring contest.”

“I don’t disagree,” Maggie replied.

“Peshkov will call it a ‘test’ but in actuality he’s throwing the West a don’t-fuck-with-me-in-Ukraine brushback pitch.”

“And conceivably, by doing it over the Black Sea, outside Turkish maritime claims, he wouldn’t be triggering a wider war with NATO.”

The more they discussed it, the more convinced Conroy was becoming. “Can you imagine an event like that?” he asked. “It would serve the same effect as a detonation in Ukraine, but Peshkov would reap the added benefit of forcing any of his would-be usurpers to watch. ‘Look at the power I have,’ he’d be telling them. ‘Challenge me and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.’ He could then put on a screening of Oppenheimer afterward and let everyone keep their goggles. The guy would be untouchable.”

Handing out atomic goggles as some sort of sick party favor was definitely in keeping with Peshkov’s profile. That said, Maggie wasn’t crazy about her boss falling in love with this theory. It was always dangerous to get too attached to any one idea and she decided she needed to throw a little cold water on it.

“Based upon the size of the device he chooses, the fallout could be limited to about a kilometer in all directions. The Turks, however, will go apeshit. They’ll never let another Russian vessel transit the Turkish Straits again. This would be across the board, including commercial ships, on top of the already current prohibitions in place against the Russian Navy. Peshkov would be a fool to do it. It would be absolutely devastating for Russia and would destroy all the work Moscow has done in building bridges with Ankara.”

“All right then,” said Conroy as the staffer came back in with the coffee. “I’ll make sure to let the national security advisor know that you’re a strong no on the possibility of a nuclear demonstration over the Black Sea.”

“Anything’s possible,” said Maggie. “I just think that on the list of probabilities, this one’s highly unlikely.”

The DDO poured himself a cup of coffee and offered one to Maggie, who declined.

“So, we’re still looking at a tactical nuclear weapon being detonated somewhere inside Ukraine. Is that the position we’re operating from?”

“At the moment, yes,” Maggie responded. “That’s where the evidence is pointing.”

“In that case, you’ll be glad to know that President Porter is taking your advice. He has lined up former high-ranking military figures for all the Sunday shows. He is also dispatching the secretary of state to Moscow to deliver an in-person warning. If you can give me the list of Peshkov influencers you think he should be meeting with, I’ll make sure it gets passed along.”

“Absolutely. In the meantime, I’ve got a follow-up report for you,” said Maggie, handing him a folder.

“What’s this?”

“We’ve found Balthazar. Valentina Usova’s horse.”

Conroy took the folder and opened it. “Where?” he asked as he flipped through the photos.

“A town called Dzhankhot. It’s about fifteen kilometers up the coast from Pushkin’s palace.”

“You were right.”

“We got lucky,” Maggie replied.

“What do they always say? Better to be lucky than good?”

She nodded. “In that case, let’s hope we’re about to get lucky again.”

“What’s up?” Conroy asked as he set the folder down.

“We’re starting to pull on a new thread. Something in the debriefing of Leonid Grechko. It may be nothing.”

“Okay. But if it’s something, what kind of something is it?”

Maggie took a deep breath. “We’re looking at the possibility that Russia might be looking at striking outside Ukraine. Somewhere in Europe.”