Strike Force

Zevitin, one of the youngest presidents of Russia at age forty-nine, was the second president of Russia since the American Holocaust just four years ago. He didn’t come from the Party apparatus, government, or the military, but from Russia’s rapidly growing oil, gas, and nuclear energy industry. He was educated in America and Britain and headed several large multinational energy companies in postings around the world before being chosen to head Russia’s energy ministry. His wealth, good looks, charm, and international presence made him popular in Russia as well as around the world, and when the interim military president of Russia suddenly died at the surprisingly young age of sixty-one, Zevitin was elected president in a landslide.

President Martindale scanned his computer display briefly. Every phone call prompted an automatic page on the computer that offered interesting and sometimes extremely useful and insightful information pertinent to the caller: as well as verifying the caller’s identity and origin, it gave the local time, weather, some headlines, facts on the caller’s family’s names — Zevitin had never been married — recent decisions and legislation supported or rejected by the caller, recent decisions made by the President regarding the caller, and names of the caller’s key advisers and their recent activities. He picked up the phone, and the other advisers in the room picked up theirs so they could listen in. “Mr. President, this is President Martindale, how are you today, sir?”

“Very well, very well, Mr. President,” Zevitin replied in very good English with a curious mix of Russian, American, and English accents. “Thank you for taking my call.”

“Not at all, Leonid,” Martindale responded, hoping that using the Russian president’s first name would signal an end to their use of titles. “My national security advisers are listening in as well; I hope that’s all right with you.”

“It is, sir, and thank you for so advising me,” Zevitin said. “Unfortunately for me, there is only my dog Sashi with me tonight.”

That was contrary to the usual rumors concerning the playboy antics of the Russian president, but Martindale didn’t feel like calling him on it. “How can I be of service today?”

“I’m calling about the incident in Ashkhabad, Mr. President,” Zevitin said. Damn, the President thought, he’s keeping with the titles — this was not a good sign. “I was advised of it through our embassy there. First of all, I want to say I’m sorry for the loss of your men.”

“Thank you, Leonid. Which embassy told you of this incident — the Turkmeni or the Iranian embassy?”

There was a very slight pause; then: “Both, actually,” he replied. “We also received the general notice from Iran a short time ago. I expect the Iranians to release your man right away, and if you go to the United Nations about it, Russia will join you in calling for the body to be released immediately. The incident happened on Turkmeni soil, not Iranian. They have no right to do what they did.”

“We’ll go to the United Nations as a matter of routine and diplomatic protocol, Leonid,” the President said, “but we’ll send a message directly to the Iranian government through the Swiss embassy informing them that they have created a serious and dangerous international incident, bordering on an act of war, and that we demand the immediate return of our man and all his equipment and supplies taken in Turkmenistan. If we don’t receive them within twenty-four hours of notification, we’ll take all steps necessary to recover them.”

“Mr. President, I strongly urge you to play this one carefully and quietly,” Zevitin said. “There is a major societal upheaval going on right now in Iran. Most of the government has been wiped out — murdered — by this nutcase Buzhazi. The Revolutionary Guards are being spurred on by the surviving ultraconservative theocrats that must crack down on the insurgency or find themselves either blown up by insurgents, crushed by the army, or rejected by the people. They’ll toss law, civil rights, and basic human decency out the window to save their own hides.”

“Leonid, I wouldn’t be sad to see the end of the theocracy if it meant a more moderate Iran,” the President said. “What they do to their own people is none of my concern. If they cooperate with us and give us the property they stole while in Turkmenistan, we’d be happy to step aside and let events in Iran take their course.”

“Then you would not interfere with further events in Iran if you got your man and your property back?”

“Leonid, I’m not going to tie future events in with the current crisis. Iran has to return our man they murdered and the property they stole…period. I have no other quarrels with Iran presently.”