War with Russia

Morland was only too aware of the fact. His Latvian Special Forces friends had told him that the Russians could land an airborne brigade in Riga in less than four hours. And what, they had asked Tom, could NATO do about that? He had had no answer. Certainly not one they would want to hear.

“What about air?” Morland questioned, pushing aside thoughts about how vulnerable they all now were in the face of such a massive Russian force build-up.

“I was coming to that, Tom. Their 16th Air Army is in easy flying distance of the Baltic states and appears to be at, or near, full combat readiness. It’s just been reinforced with two regiments of the advanced Su-34 Fullback fighter-bombers on top of the MiG-29SMT Fulcrum fighters, the newer variant which replaced the standard MiG-29s. They also have modernized Su-25 Frogfoot close-support fighter-bombers. It’s an old aircraft, but it’s had a good record in a number of recent Russian operations, particularly Chechnya and Georgia.”

“Thanks, Jerry. I’ve got that,” said Morland.

The Baltics team leader cut in. “Tom, I want you to be aware of the strategic picture because you’ve got a new job. So, here’s my direction. Your team task is finished. You’re now our PJHQ liaison officer to Latvia. Your team stays with you, but apart from them, you’re on your own. As you know, our dedicated military attaché was removed in the last round of defense cuts. It’s now down to you to be our ears and eyes.”

“Got that, Sir.” Morland felt a sense of rising excitement, mixed with extreme trepidation; he might just be about to find himself at ground zero of the next big conflict.

“What we could be seeing, Tom, are all the ingredients of ambiguous or deniable warfare; what Russia did in Crimea and eastern Ukraine. This could be all about undermining the integrity of Latvia from within, without having to deploy overt military force. Or it could be something far more heavy handed. We have no idea at the moment. It could go either way, or it could be a storm in a teacup and there are plenty here who tend toward that conclusion, which is why I still have operational control of you for the time being.

“I happen not to agree with the optimists. So, I want you to get everywhere and to update us every time you have something useful to report. I want you to base yourself in the embassy, where we’ve got better comms, and you’ll have some security and life support. But I particularly want you to get alongside the Latvian Chief of Defense, General Raimonds Balderis. He’s a good man. He came to PJHQ last year. We’ve been in touch with his office and he’s expecting you this afternoon. Also, get yourself known in the National Armed Forces Joint HQ and, above all, stay in close touch with their Special Forces.”

“Roger, Sir.”

“Have you any questions for me right now?”

“Nothing immediate, Sir.”

“Good man. Jerry will pick up any questions and provide all the usual reach-back support. We’ll come back on the analysis of your picture of the man in the riot. Nicky will come back to you with GCHQ input, once they’ve had a chance to analyze the mobile traffic. Good luck.”

As before, the screen went black. “Well, Sir,” commented Wild laconically, “we’ve got our work cut out now.”

1400 hours, Thursday, May 18, 2017

NATO Headquarters, Brussels

AS A ROYAL Marine who had spent much of his early career at sea, waiting on a ship for things to happen, McKinlay had reserves of patience that rarely ran dry. But today was really testing him. He was back, for the third time since Sunday’s meeting, in the NAC Council Chamber sitting at the great round table. His immediate boss, the SACEUR, had, yet again, been called across the Atlantic to testify before the Senate Armed Forces Committee, which is why he was representing him today.

The second meeting that week had followed the same pattern as Sunday’s meeting, with nothing to show from it except a series of self-serving statements from ambassadors of NATO nations whose countries had little in the way of armed forces worth speaking of in any event, and whose commitment to the cause of collective defense appeared to be measured anywhere between paper thin and non-existent. But McKinlay also knew that, however irritating the tortuous process of the NAC, it had proved in the past to be remarkably statesmanlike in its decision making. And once a decision had been made, the need for consensus meant that the nations were usually prepared to stick with it. Shame at being seen as a backslider was a great motivator.

He never ceased to be impressed by Secretary General Kostilek, the former Polish prime minister, for the way he steered the NAC’s meetings. True, many ambassadors complained that he did not allow them enough time to fully explain their nations’ positions.

But at least, thought McKinlay, he kept things moving.