Without warning

Musso sat back and shrugged. ‘You’re not the only one with a camera, General Salas. Returning to the matter at hand, however, I have dispersed my remaining forces throughout the base and surrounding area. The better part of a Marine brigade – three thousand armed men, including a component of special operations – capable personnel. You have not had much luck locating the majority of them as of yet.’

‘We will.’

‘I seriously doubt that. You will provide a guarantee of safe passage for the civilian population out of Guantanamo Bay. Furthermore, you will provide -’

Salas slammed his hand down on the desk, causing it to tip over again and spill a couple of pens onto the floor in front of the American officers. ‘Surrender is to be unconditional, General Musso!’ he shouted.

Musso raised his voice and continued. ‘You will provide safe passage for our military personnel. In return, we will surrender our remaining holdings in Cuba.’

‘We already hold your remaining holdings in Cuba.’

Musso jerked his thumb at the shattered window behind him. ‘Three thousand of my Marines say you don’t. And if they do not hear from me within the next twelve hours, this marvellous silence we have enjoyed will come to an end. More to the point, the United States will not rest until the civilian population of this facility is evacuated to safe harbour. Those three thousand will be joined by other forces within days.’

Salas laughed. Partly it was forced, but not entirely. ‘The United States does not exist, you stupid man,’ he replied. ‘Where have you been this last month? You do not make threats anymore. The Muslims were chasing you out of their lands before your Jewish friends murdered them all. Just as we shall chase you out of our territory now. Your threats are empty and worthless.’

Musso reacted with another shake of his head. ‘Really? General Salas, I’ll be the first to admit we’re down. However, we still have the bulk of our navy. We have our submarines and the majority of our armed forces were deployed overseas when the Disappearance took place. We are still strong, stronger than you will ever be. And we will not leave anyone behind, sir.’

‘It is an empty threat.’

Musso decided to push his luck. ‘You have raised the issue of what the Israelis did recently,’ he began. ‘They had less than two hundred nuclear weapons. We, my friend, have far more than that, and more to the point, we really do not need your oil anymore.’

Leaning forward again, Musso invested his voice with all of the growling threat he could muster. ‘How many ballistic-missile submarines does the Venezuelan navy have, General Salas?’

Stavros looked as if he was holding his breath. Musso rolled on.

‘You tell that little cocksucker el presidente of yours that if we do not get acceptable terms, we will atomise every major population centre in Venezuela by the end of the day.’

Salas turned pale. ‘I…I-I’ll need to consult my superiors,’ he stammered.

‘You do that.’

* * * *

PACOM HQ, PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII

With Tommy Franks back in the top job, Admiral Ritchie found that many of the political calls he’d recently had to make could be passed up the line to his superior – a situation for which he was entirely grateful. He had even managed to get home for more than four hours and have a meal with Amanda this week, after which they’d spoken on the phone with Nancy, their daughter, for a few short but precious minutes. She was staying with a couple of college friends in Edinburgh, sharing an apartment rather than braving one of the American refugee camps in the south of England. It was a blessed relief to hear her voice again. It meant that he could set aside personal worries and concentrate on his much greater professional ones.

Ritchie had his hands full coordinating refugee flows throughout the Pacific, while standing watch over the strategic situation in Asia – a fancy way of saying he was holding his breath and watching the collapse of China and the north-east Asian economies, hoping it wouldn’t spill over into the wider world. His ability to do anything about it was disappearing fast. He simply couldn’t sustain the Pacific Fleet for much longer, even with the help of allies such as Japan, who were themselves teetering on the brink of collapse.

But Tusk Musso’s gambit had dragged him right back into the centre of a purely political question. Would he be party to authorising a strategic interdiction? Damn the euphemisms, call it what it was: a nuclear attack.