War with Russia

McKinlay briefed Kydd on the NAC decision to take forward the planning and asked what UK could offer. It was clear that there’d been a change of atmosphere in London with the new leadership after the disaster of HMS Queen Elizabeth. Kydd ran through the proposal; the armed forces had been put on a war footing and reserves had been called up, but would take time to be processed.

Kydd began to fulminate about the idiocy of replacing battle-hardened professionals with theoretical reserves, but McKinlay cut him off. “That horse has long bolted, Jock. Just do what you can with what you’ve got.”

“Sorry, Dave. It’s just that, of all the stupid, fucking, irresponsible gambles, that one takes the shagging biscuit.” And so he moved on to the new Royal Navy task group that was being put together under HMS Ocean and the second amphibious ship, HMS Albion, with a Royal Marine commando embarked to support the American Second Marine Expeditionary Force. Meanwhile, every available RAF aircraft was now fully integrated into allied air operational planning. As for the Army, Kydd had put the British 16th Air Assault Brigade under command of the American 82nd Airborne Division, while the ARRC, Allied Rapid Reaction Corps, headquarters was preparing to deploy to Poland.

“But I tell you, Dave,” went on Kydd, reverting to his usual colorful language, “it’s a fucking unbelievable state of affairs here. When I look back at the Gulf War, it was a hell of a stretch, but we still managed to put together a properly constituted fighting division. Now, thanks to all these defense cuts, we’re having to cannibalize every vehicle in the Army just to get one fighting armored brigade ready for war. Frankly, it’s fucking pathetic and, as you know only too well, Dave, you can do the square root of fuck all with a single brigade. OK, we’ve got a divisional HQ… Just. But we’re going to have to go cap in hand to the French to reinforce us with a second brigade if we’re going to put even a weak division into the field. We’re working round the clock to get the brigade to Poland in the next ten days to start training.”

“That bad?” McKinlay asked, shocked in spite of the reports he had read of tanks and other armored vehicles sitting in sheds minus engines, tracks and other key parts, but still counted as being “on strength.”

“Yup, that bad, Dave. The only thing we’ve got going for us is that we’ve still got 20th Armored Brigade based in Germany. So at least we don’t have to ship everything across the Channel. Nevertheless, the cuts and emphasis on Daesh and the Middle East have meant that they’ve been last in line for what little money has been available. It’s going to be a guinea a minute getting them properly operational again.”

“But you reckon you can?”

“Just you watch. My size tens are going to start connecting with shiny MOD arses in the next few seconds.”

“I’d pay good money to see that!” McKinlay chuckled at the thought of the foul-mouthed Kydd kicking ministers and civil servants alike. Then he grew serious again. “We haven’t talked eyes on the ground. We’re going to need our people in and soonest. NATO Special Operations Forces here in SHAPE are coordinating Allied support to the Forest Brothers in all three Baltics, but we need someone in Kaliningrad. Any thoughts on UK Special Forces?”

“Too fucking right, mate,” came the immediate response. “We’ll ensure they’re properly coordinated with NATO SOF and we’re working to get something in there ASAP. However, we’ve got a small team on the ground in Latvia right now… more by accident than design.” He explained how Morland and his team of Mercian soldiers were now operating underground with the Forest Brothers. “But we’ve got to move them,” Kydd went on. “GCHQ has picked up that the Russians are on to Morland and his guys. What’s so fucking odd is that it sounds as if the President himself has ordered Morland’s capture. Blames him for getting his face and arse rubbed in the mud by his security guys. They reckon it’s got personal, because some dicky-bird has told us that Russia Today has a camera team on standby for when they bring Morland in. The President must be losing his fucking marbles to get so wound up about one young infantry captain.” He laughed sardonically. “It’s long been bloody obvious that he’s a self-obsessed nutter. However, until he had this little hissy fit, I had rather assumed he was something of a cool operator.”

A thought occurred to McKinlay. “Any chance of getting this Morland into Kaliningrad? These Forest Brothers are all interconnected and know the ground better than anyone else. They’ll be our best chance of slipping him over the border undetected and, if necessary, they could pass him on down their chain. With luck, he’ll be able to snurgle around with guys who really know the terrain. Then we could reinforce the deception by sending UK SOF to recce routes into the Baltics. The Russians are bound to focus on what they’re up to.”