Page 8 of Enemy Within
“MADAM PRESIDENT.” GENERAL BRADFORD nodded to Elizabeth as she strode into the White House Situation Room. He and all the others around the conference table stood when she entered.
Elizabeth’s throat clenched. She used to stand with them, her former colleagues, and greet Jack when he entered. His arrival had always calmed the room, his eyes bright and sharp, and with a soft smile at the ready, no matter what. He’d embodied that balance of intensity and perspective, especially so after Ethan had joined him at the White House. The team—Jack’s team—had truly felt connected, especially after Madigan’s betrayal. It felt like they were united, serving a purpose bigger than themselves, bigger than politics, even.
That camaraderie had evaporated, vanished with a sucking pop. Hard stares followed Elizabeth to the head of the table, everyone still and silent as she pulled out the chair—Jack’s chair—and sat down. She laced her fingers together, rested her elbows on the edge, and stared at General Bradford. “Let’s hear it.”
General Bradford didn’t blink. “Madam President, after the initial strike, we successfully pushed the Russians’ first invasion wave into Canada back from Yellowknife to what we’re assuming is their rally point in northern Nunavut. We’re currently engaged in a standoff with General Moroshkin’s Russian forces in the Canadian Nunavut and Northwest Territories. We’ve mobilized the Second Infantry Division out of Fort Lewis, the Tenth Mountain out of Fort Drum, and the Fourth Infantry Division from Alaska, as well as Marines from Pendleton and Kaneohe Bay. The Air Force has fighters from Elmendorf and Eielson in the air. The skies over the polar cap are stuffed full of additional Russian transports, and more Russians are coming in via Baffin Bay and over the pole. At best estimate, they have at least three subs under the ice and four destroyers in the water. And the Russian aircraft carrier has been spotted.”
“Moroshkin hauled that bucket of bolts out? I thought it was being mothballed.” General Harris glanced at Admiral McDonald, Director of Naval Operations, who stayed silent. Harris was the vice-chairman of the Joint Chiefs, a position formerly held by General Madigan.
“Reports from fishermen off Greenland and Nova Scotia show it crossed through the GIUK Gap and headed up Baffin Bay. We believe she’s offloaded her fighters to the Arctic Bay Airport, at the north end of the bay.” Bradford called up a series of maps along the far wall of the Situation Room and overlaid the surveillance images they’d managed to grab from overflights and the few satellites they had left that could reach the polar orbits.
“The Russians have established a defensive line at Kugluktuk. It’s a hamlet in Nunavut, on the shore of the Arctic Ocean. North of there, the Russians control the Arctic. The islands, the seas. Everything.”
Shit.A dull pain pounded behind Elizabeth’s eyeballs. Once, she had wanted to be president. What she wouldn’t give for Jack to be back and sitting in the big chair. “How many people are up there, General?”
“Very few, Madam President. Mostly tribal settlements and research stations. We have American scientists at the research station at Resolute, and we had an Army unit at Alert Station. Both facilities have gone dark.”
“Any word from them?”
“We haven’t been able to establish radio contact.”
“What the hell is Moroshkin doing, General?”
A momentary pause from General Bradford as he stared her down. “This is an invasion, Madam President. It’s not how we expected a Russian invasion to happen, especially not in this century, but the Red Bear has come to our door. And Canada is stuck in the middle.”
“What has Canada’s response been so far?” Elizabeth turned to her former deputy Secretary of State, Paul Heng, now acting in her old secretary of state shoes, ostensibly until she and Jack put together a list of replacement candidates.
“They’re outraged. Publicly, they’ve asked for our military aid, and they are sending their military units alongside ours against the Russians with the caveat that wedo notstrike first. Privately, they’re deeply concerned about loss of life and loss of infrastructure. The number of casualties in the first wave of the invasion is estimated at just over a thousand. That’s too many for them. They’re willing to consider all options to avoid further casualties.”
“Even surrender?” Her voice chilled, cold enough to cut diamonds.
“Yes, Madam President.”
“That would give the Russians a clear path to the US,” General Harris growled.
Elizabeth gave Harris a long look. “Paul, I want to know the moment that the Canadians and the Russians start talking. If anything happens between them, at any level. Backroom or a direct phone call. I want to know.” She nodded to Acting CIA Director Olivia Mori as she spoke. The CIA would need to help with that.
Mori nodded back. Her arm was in a sling and half her face was black and blue after the explosion at Langley. Her eyes were clear, but pinched. If Elizabeth had to guess, Mori wasn’t taking her pain medication. Considering a building had fallen on her, that said something.
This was crunch time. The Russians were coming, and they were headed for their back door. There was no time for pain.
“Options.” Elizabeth peered around the table.
“Our defensive line is holding firm for now.” Bradford gestured to the map on the large display screen across the front wall. “The Russians are pushed back to Kugluktuk. They haven’t advanced any farther south.”
“But they will.”
Bradford nodded, once. “Undoubtedly, Madam President.”
“Madam President.” Admiral McDonald, Director of Naval Operations, leaned forward. “TheNimitzStrike Group is already on their way north, heading up the Pacific coast of Canada. The rest of Carrier Strike Group Eleven is moving up from San Diego. Three subs from Bangor are sailing with theNimitz. We can strike the Russians at their rally point north of Nunavut and send in fighters and sorties after.”
General Harris spoke again. “The ground troops we’ve mobilized can sweep up the mess after they’re done.”
“The Canadians haveexpresslyforbidden any air strikes in their territory, directed to either side.” Heng flipped a pencil back and forth between his fingers, the eraser slamming into his notepad over and over, beating out a dullthump thump thump. “The prime minister issued an emergency address to the nation and the world, and explicitly ordered both the Russian forcesandour forces tonotconduct airstrikes. Their biggest concern is further civilian casualties.”
Harris snorted. “Does the prime minister honestly think the Russians will abide by that? They bombed their way to Yellowknife and sent missiles toward Toronto and Vancouver—”
“Which mostly landed outside the cities,” Heng interrupted Harris. He swallowed audibly, his eyes wide, but pressed on. “After the prime minister’s statement, all Russian bombing stopped.”
