Panic Switch полностью

“New Jersey’s shaft rub problem has probably already given them away. You remember what a ‘PCO waltz’ is, Rob?”

“Yes, Mr. Vice President.”

Pacino cursed to himself. If only President Carlucci had accepted his recommendation to sink the Omega before, they wouldn’t be in this situation. He was still tempted to force the Navy to order New Jersey to fire on and sink the Omega, but Admiral Catardi’s words rang in his ears. New Jersey was limping and barely alive. She couldn’t be counted on to survive an attack on Belgorod. At least, he thought, he’d be saving Anthony by holding back on ordering a torpedo attack on the Russians.

“Okay, people let’s reconvene this meeting in four hours,” Pacino said. “Between now and then, Admiral Catardi, I want you to equip and mobilize two attack submarines and send them to the Arctic Ocean, to the last known position of the New Jersey. And get Navy and Air Force search-and-rescue aircraft overflying the area of the Belgorod and New Jersey positions twenty-four hours a day until further notice. That’s all people. I’d like the CIA director to remain behind.”

As the crowd left the room, Pacino buzzed the wardroom for a carafe of fresh coffee. When the coffee came, he looked across the table at Allende.

“Do we know anything about Carlucci’s would-be assassin?”

“Red Chinese national,” Allende said. “It’s unfortunate he died, but even if we hadn’t hit him with bullets, he’d be dead. We found a broken ampule of potassium cyanide in his mouth.”

“I’ll be talking to Red China’s ambassador with Klugendorf tomorrow,” Pacino said, but he had doubts about the secretary of state, who seemed too conciliatory.

“My people are working on options for something to even up the score on the Red Chinese. When would you like that presented to you?”

“Any time tomorrow,” Pacino said. “But a tit-for-tat on this is a waste of time. I know, we have to do something. Let’s just see what your options look like. Meanwhile, what do you know about the hit attempt on Vostov?”

“It’s not good, Patch. A helicopter drone was employed, engineered by Shanghai and manufactured by Beijing, also operated by a White Chinese national whom the Russians captured — alive, if our intel is correct.”

“That’s not good.”

“The drone’s AI system was driven by human brain cells,” Allende continued. “Organic AI. Didn’t you try doing that with that Tigershark torpedo?”

Pacino shook his head. “We didn’t use human brain cells. We used canine neurons. The resulting Tigershark brain couldn’t be controlled. A Tigershark torpedo just tries to kill anything in its seeker window. It was a suicide weapon.”

“Probably the Chinese drone was controlled with conventional AI to get it in position, or just by human control, and then the organic system kicked in to target Vostov and kill him. But one of the two guns on the drone jammed. If it had worked, we’d be living in a different reality.”

“Talk about a different reality. Tell me what you think about the idea of attacking the Omega, even with the New Jersey damaged.”

“Patch,” Allende said, putting her hand on his forearm, “if it were my decision and my son were on the New Jersey, I’d go with Catardi’s recommendation. Let the New Jersey linger there and keep an eye on what the Omega is doing until a relief submarine arrives on-station. I know you want that Russian sub on the bottom, but the cost is too high. He’s far away from where he’d need to be to deploy the Poseidons. We have time. We can get other subs there before this crisis gets any worse. We just need to hope the New Jersey can hold out until the cavalry arrives.”

“Yeah,” Pacino said. “You’re probably right.” His stomach growled. “Crisis or no crisis, I’m hungry. Are you?”

“Too bad we can’t go to the Irish pub,” Allende said.

“But we can order takeout,” he said.

Colonel Vanya Nika, GRU, on detached duty to the FSB, the officer who’d been in tactical command of the raid on the GUM mall hostage situation, cinched up his red tie and examined himself in the full-length mirror. He decided it looked good with the dark gray suit. He glanced at his shoes, and they were flawlessly gleaming and shiny.

He walked from the bedroom to the loud sounds of the kitchen at breakfast. His son was arguing with his older sister, and the baby babbled in her highchair. He smiled at his wife Katyusha and kissed her on her cheek. She gave him a flustered smile in return.

“Will you be on time tonight?” she asked.

“It will probably be late,” Nika said. “The boys want to meet out for a drink, which will lead to food, and more drink.”

“Be careful, darling,” Katy said. “I don’t like you out on the streets late at night.”

“It’ll be fine,” Nika said. “I’ll have my driver standing by.”

“I’ll wait up for you,” she said. “You can tell me all the awful things you and your boys said and did.”