EndWar

“I don’t know. But if they’re being honest, and the nukes go off—”

“That’s what bothers me,” Becerra interrupted. “The nukes go off and the reserves are lost. What happens? The price of Russian oil and gas skyrockets.”

“Exactly. So it’s odd they come to us with this story. You’d think they’d let the reserves be destroyed.”

“But that’s short-term. Long-term, they’d have much more to gain if they controlled them.”

“Definitely.”

Becerra thought a moment. “I’m just shooting from the hip here, but here’s what I think. The Russians are still in bed with the Brigade. They used them to plant the nukes and intended to bluff us. They figure if their ground war fails, they can threaten nuclear destruction.”

“But their deal with the terrorists went south.”

“And that’s the real shock to them. They must have had some people on the inside working with the Brigade, GRU officers they fully trusted, maybe this agent with the codename ‘Snow Maiden.’ ”

“Now they need us to bail them out,” Kennedy concluded. “And if the nukes were to go off, then you’re right, the price of Russian oil and gas would skyrocket — but the Russians are also trying to court the North Koreans and the Japanese, who’ve been buying more and more oil from the Canadians.”

“So in the long term, if the nukes go off and the world believes the Russian Federation is at fault, then this becomes a major economic blow to their government.”

“Exactly. Alienating future allies and taking the blame for nuclear destruction could finish them. We could turn those neutral nations, and they know that — which is why they’ve come to us.”

“My God, General, I hope we’re right.” Becerra switched back to conference channel. “Gentlemen, it seems you have everything to lose, and we risk only a couple of search teams. Those teams will be marked with locator beacons, and you’ll need to communicate with your forces so that our teams are not engaged.”

“We will do that,” said Kapalkin.

“But it will be difficult,” added Izotov. “Both of our forces are using electronic countermeasures and jamming. We will try, but we can make no promises.”

“Well, General, I hope for your sake your people don’t kill them. Now, it’s my understanding that we’ll need to continue ground operations so the terrorists don’t prematurely detonate the nukes. But you will not send in any more forces. The planes you have in the air? Turn them around. Do I make myself clear?”

“We will agree to that,” said Kapalkin.

“Finally, if by some small miracle we’re able to pull this off, I would expect that you would withdraw all troops from Canada. Completely. And then, once the Canadians have assessed their damages, we will discuss reparations.”

“Becerra, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Kapalkin.

“Oh, we won’t. We’ll also discuss reparations for every nation involved in the construction and operation of the International Space Station.”

“Perhaps we should have kept to ourselves,” said Izotov. “You Americans are all the same — always with your hand out. The world does not owe you anything.”

“In this particular case, General, you owe us something: the truth. And if you’re lying now, then the hand coming at you will not be empty — if you understand my meaning.”

Izotov snickered. “I understand.”

“President Becerra, protecting those Canadian reserves is in the best interests of both of our governments,” said Kapalkin. “Let us focus on that and not use this situation as a bargaining tool to address other conflicts or desires.”

“We’re going to put everything on the table here. But you’re right. We can’t do anything until we’re sure those nukes have been deactivated. General Kennedy? I’d like you to coordinate with General Izotov.”

Kennedy nodded, though the awkwardness in her expression was clear.

“Gentlemen, we will be in touch with further details.” Becerra broke the link with them and returned to the private channel with General Kennedy. “Let’s get those NEST teams called up and in the air.”

“Yes, sir. But, sir, have we just climbed into bed with the Russians?”

“They say to keep your enemies close. Can’t say I like sleeping with them, though. Let’s get to work.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Sergeant Raymond McAllen and his Marines, along with Khaki, the Russian helicopter pilot Pravota, and their rescued pilot Major Stephanie Halverson, had been hiking away from the chopper for about four hours, following the woods south, taking short breaks roughly every forty-five minutes.

The snow was knee-deep in a few spots, and it was slow going to be sure. Halverson had warmed up and refused to be pulled in the litter, though McAllen could tell she wouldn’t last much longer. The Russian wasn’t faring much better.

McAllen called the next halt, and they gathered below a stand of white spruce, hidden by the dense evergreen branches, while Gutierrez and Palladino took off ahead to reconnoiter the path and report back. Szymanski was keeping an eye to the rear, which thus far had been clear of pursuing ground forces.