War with Russia

“Prime Minister,” President Dillon’s voice was withering, “your complacency stuns me. You clearly do not understand the most basic principle of deterrence: that it needs to be matched at every level, whether conventional or nuclear, if it is to be effective. Let me make it crystal clear to you in words of one syllable. If we don’t stop the Russians right now, this means war in Europe… and that will escalate into nuclear war, as surely as night follows day. Your generals have explained that much to you?”

The Prime Minister tried to be firmer. “Now come on, Lynn. I’m sure it’s not that bad, yet. Nobody has attacked anybody… and,” he sounded almost petulant, “well, my people are telling me that there’s no way we can commit British service personnel to a war in the Baltic states. As you know, we’re in a bit of a transition period here and we don’t have our usual forces equipped and ready to go. My generals assure me it’s only a temporary blip and—”

He got no further as the President interrupted. “Are you telling me that you want to go down in history as the first UK prime minister not prepared to stand by a NATO ally in its hour of need? What happened to a thousand years of history? To Britain’s finest hour? As… as far as I am concerned, such a capitulation would be the end of any so-called special relationship.”

Bear imagined he could hear the Prime Minister gulp. “I’ll… I’ll see what I can do, Lynn.”

The phone clicked and went silent.

1735 hours, Saturday, May 20, 2017

Lielvārde Air Base, Latvia

IT HAD TAKEN him only two hours and twenty minutes, flying at a cruising speed of 435 knots in his F-16C multi-role fighter aircraft to cover the 900 miles from Aviano Air Base, north of Venice, to Latvia, but Major Philip Bertinetti, US Air Force, was still looking forward to landing and stretching his legs. In line with his instructions from US Air Force air traffic control at Lielvārde, part of the advance party sent ahead to receive the American fighter aircraft, he descended with the second F-16 piloted by Mike Ryan, his new wingman, flying in formation to the rear and left of him. As he banked right he saw, 3,000 feet below him, the gentle curve of the Gulf of Riga, with its miles of yellow, pristine sandy beach fringed by green forest. Then he picked out the beach resort of Jurmala, with its attractive art nouveau wooden houses, the summer playground for the Russian aristocracy in the days of the Tsar and, in Soviet days, a favorite of the Communist Party leadership.

Reminding himself to return one day for a visit with his wife and family when this was all over, Bertinetti started going through his pre-landing checks until there, in front of him, was the runway at Lielvārde. He lowered the landing gear, opened his airbrake and reduced airspeed. Checking his glideslope was within the 2.5–3 degree bracket, he ensured the FPM, the flight path marker, on his heads-up display was over the threshold of the runway and pulled his throttle rearwards. Soon he was closing with the runway and dropping. Within seconds of landing he flared the aircraft gently, decreasing power to idle as he pulled back on the stick.

Touchdown! The F-16 ran true and straight along the runway. But as his instructor always used to tell him, you’re only as good as your last landing—and that one was pretty good. Especially, some would say, in the circumstances. However, for Bertinetti, the past was the past and he had to be perfect right now, because anything less than perfect and he suspected that he would be on the next flight home, but in a passenger seat and no longer the driving seat; the only place he was ever happy in any airplane.

It had been quite a week. Shot down only seven days ago over eastern Ukraine, while providing top cover for US Army trainers working with the Ukrainian Army, he had been swiftly picked up by a Combat Search and Rescue helicopter and repatriated to his home base at Aviano for medical checks and debriefing. He’d been judged in perfect health by the Medical Group and lost no time in persuading the Brigadier General commanding 31st Fighter Wing that he needed to return to duty, to ensure that his recent combat experience against the latest Russian fighters could be passed on to other pilots. Normally, he would have been grounded and kept under observation, but times were definitely not normal and the general had finally relented. Bertinetti had managed a few days at home with his long-suffering wife Diane and their two daughters, before the call came to deploy eight F-16s to Latvia.