EndWar

The ammo ship Lightning had deployed several decoys and jamming devices, but the operator would avoid those as the torpedo reached seventy-five knots.

A few seconds later, the wire cut free, and the torpedo’s high-powered active/passive sonar steered it during the final attack.

The Mk-48’s warhead contained the explosive power of about 1,200 pounds of TNT, and both Andreas and the XO knew that that power could be maximized when the warhead detonated below the keel of a target ship.

“Three seconds,” said the XO, monitoring his console’s timer. “Two, one.”

The warhead exploded exactly as planned. The resulting pressure wave of the blast lifted the Lightning, and while Andreas couldn’t see it, he felt certain that her keel had been broken in the process.

As she settled, the second detonation occurred, tearing her apart and igniting her huge cache of ammunition. Long plumes of water and fragments shot nearly two hundred meters skyward. Dozens more explosions joined the first in a rainbow of colors that lit waves pockmarked by splashing debris.

When the smoke cleared a bit, Andreas confirmed that they had broken the ship into several pieces. The larger bow and stern sections were taking on water fast, while still more ammunition began to cook off.

Again, more silence in the control room, until—

“Should we close and search for survivors, sir?” asked the XO.

Andreas thought a moment. “No.” He took a deep breath, then called, “Navigator? Give me a course to the mouth of the Dolphin and Union Strait. With the east end of the gulf iced in, that strait is a perfect choke point — and we get to say who comes through there.”

“Hello, Prime Minister,” said President Vsevolod Vsevolodovich Kapalkin. “I’m glad you could take my call. I know it’s early there.”

Prime Minister Robert Emerson of Canada had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He had loosened his tie, and he barely opened his mouth when he said quite curtly, “Get out of my country.”

“I’m afraid, Prime Minister, that it is far too late for that. But what I have to tell you is quite urgent and will benefit you greatly, if you are willing to negotiate.”

“Kapalkin, you’re a creature of realpolitik, coercive and amoral. There are no negotiations here. Get out of my country.”

“Prime Minister, I understand how you feel, and I know how important it is for you and your people to remain neutral in this conflict. I can guarantee that Canada will not become involved, if we work together.”

“We are already involved. You’ve invaded the Northwest Territories and are heading for Alberta.”

“That’s not all. As we speak our Spetsnaz forces are heading toward Edmonton and Calgary. They will parachute into those cities and seize control of power and communications uplinks, as well as those early warning radar systems for the JSF’s missile defense shield. It is winter. Very cold. And we will shut down the power. But we don’t have to do that.”

“If we hand over control of Alberta?” Emerson guessed.

Kapalkin spread his hands in a gesture of bon homie. “What is politics, Prime Minister? It is simply the pursuit, possession, and application of power. Let us share that power.”

Prime Minister Emerson closed his eyes and massaged his temples, then suddenly blurted, “You know the Americans want to…‘share power’ with us as well.”

“And we know you’ve already failed to stop them from crossing your borders. But we’ll forgive that. All we need from you now is a promise not to interfere. And once we control Alberta, you will continue production — even increase it — with our assistance.”

“And of course, the Russian Federation will receive a substantial portion of our profits. Come on, you were a smuggler. And this sounds like a proposition put forth by the Russian mafia, not the Federation.”

That remark stung, and Kapalkin sharpened his tone. “Prime Minister, if you’ll recall, I was also co-owner and chairman of one of Russia’s largest oil and gas companies. I know this business. I know how together we can continue production and force the Americans and Euros to pay dearly for that oil. Let Canada become richer — with our help.”

“Mr. President, I must be frank with you. I don’t believe a goddamn word.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“Get out of my country.”

“It’s too late for that.” Kapalkin raised his index finger. “Let me add this: If your government decides to offer military assistance to the Americans, you will suffer the full military might of the Russian Federation.”

“Don’t threaten me.”