Her voice trailed off. She closed her mouth, licked her lips. She gathered herself, continued.
“If we intervene, Russia could interpret that as an act of war. America is in dire straits — we can’t risk doing anything that would put our troops in conflict, and we cannot risk nuclear weapons being launched at our sh.o.r.es. Russia has the right to defend herself.”
Vogel slumped back into his chair. He was stunned, just like most of the people in the room, just like Murray. Wasn’t the president of the United States supposed to be able to reach out and stop injustice?
And yet, Murray knew Blackmon was making the right call. If the USA stuck her nose in the middle of this fight, the next mushroom cloud might rise over Miami, Seattle, Phoenix … any number of American treasures. Blackmon had no choice other than to make sure Russia didn’t see the United States as an enemy.
Admiral Porter cleared his throat. “Madam President, if I may offer a suggestion?”
She waved her hand inward: go ahead.
“We think the Chinese nuke was launched by a rogue element,” Porter said. “However, it is also very possible that the government was testing Russia, seeing if the infection had impacted Russia’s ability to respond to attack.”
“Russia’s ability has not been affected,” Blackmon said. “Which the Chinese are about to find out firsthand.”
Admiral Porter nodded. “Of course. But, if China actually was testing Russian resolve, their next test could be against us. We need to prepare our own retaliatory response. The Chinese — or whoever is running things there — will see us preparing for launch. They’ll know the United States is ready to hit back.”
Three nuclear powers at play, inches away from an all-out exchange. If Murray had wondered how things could get any worse, now he knew.
Vogel knocked twice on the table. “Porter is right,” he said. “The Chinese will see us preparing. So will the Russians, just in case they get any bright ideas while they’re lobbing nukes into China.”
Murray shook his head. “Are you warmongering a.s.sholes really this obtuse? You want to make things worse by spinning up our birds?”
The admiral glared at him. Vogel chose to look elsewhere.
The president raised a finger. “Director Longworth, let’s keep this civil.”
“Sorry, Madam President.”
She turned back to Porter.
“Admiral, you’re sure about this? You really think prepping for launch will be interpreted as a warning and not a threat?”
There was a gleam in the admiral’s eye. Maybe Murray was imagining that, but this man — all the Joint Chiefs, for that matter — had spent a lifetime training and preparing for a situation this severe.
“China has already used a nuclear weapon,” Porter said. “Russia is about to do the same. The seal is broken, Madam President. It’s a lot easier to justify the second strike than it is the first.”
Russia would launch at China, maybe one of them would launch at America, and then America would launch at both — just to be sure — and then …
Murray stood up. The action seemed to surprise the other people at the table. It even surprised him.
“This is what it wants,” he said, the words rushing out. “These people, the Converted, they aren’t monsters. They aren’t zombies. The destruction of Paris made that clear. The bomb that hit Novosibirsk — if it wasn’t the Chinese government, it wasn’t truly rogue, either. That was a calculated attack, because this disease wants to kill us all. Vogel, put our disease tracking numbers back on the screen.”
Vogel did so. Murray pointed at the top number.
“Sixty percent immunized,” he said. “Soon to be seventy, then eighty. We’re in the lead, and the other industrialized nations are close behind. Don’t you see? We’ve stopped the spread. We’ll have millions of infected to deal with, sure, but we’ve stopped the spread. The Converted … they can watch the news just like we can. They know the score. We’ve checked the contagion, so now they’re looking for other ways to take us out. We just so happen to have tens of thousands of other ways in the form of nuclear missiles. Don’t you get it? We’re beating them now because we’re organized, because we have communication — if a nuclear shooting match starts, all that goes away. They want to destroy us. If they start a nuclear war, then we do their work for them.”
Vogel turned sharply, his hand shot to his earpiece: new information. The room hushed, waited for him.
“Seismic readings indicate a one-hundred-kiloton detonation in China,” he said. “Probable epicenter … Ürümqi. Returning to satellite coverage.”
The main monitor switched back to the image of Ürümqi, only now the city couldn’t be seen — a billowing mushroom cloud roiled up, blocking any view of the city center. The shock wave expanded out, a ring of dirt and debris widening at supersonic speed.
Blackmon stood up, rested her hands on the table. She leaned forward, her predator’s stare locked on the scene of ma.s.s destruction.
“Admiral Porter is right,” she said. “We need to send a clear signal. We need to make sure the Russians and the Chinese know what will happen if they attack. Take us to DEFCON 2.”
THE STREETS OF CHICAGO
It could have been an Old West ghost town, complete with howling wind. Skysc.r.a.pers in place of beat-up wooden shacks, snowdrifts instead of rolling tumbleweed, but it was just as desolate, just as empty.