Goliath

“And no terrorist organization could ever hope to destroy your World Trade Center,” Covah says, the sarcasm dripping. “Why must it always take a heinous act to awaken Americans? Most Russians have nothing; therefore, any change, even the old ways of Communism, are welcome. They watch, helpless, as you discard ABM treaties, forcing them to plot with the Chinese. Don’t underestimate the danger of the Russian bear as it lies bleeding. The party leaders who maintain access to nuclear weapons already have expensive escape routes in place, funded, ironically, by your own government. There is a Russian town, Beloretsk, located in the South Ural Mountains where the Belaya River crosses the Magnitogorsk-Beloretsk-Karloman railroad. Nearby is Yamantou Mountain, a name which translates to ‘Evil Mountain’ in the local Bashkir language—”

“Yes, yes,” Rocky says impatiently, “I know all about Yamantou Mountain. It’s a subterranean complex the Russians built in case of a nuclear attack. The United States has a similar underground facility at Mount Weather.”

“As always, your ignorance will ultimately be your demise. I’ve been inside Yamantou Mountain, Commander. It is not just a bunker, it is an extensive, well-maintained complex covering more than 120 square kilometers, not including the facility’s two dozen subterranean railroads and roadways. Besides housing a small city for high-ranking officials, the complex contains well-maintained stockpiles of nuclear weapons—thousands of SS-25 and SS-27 Topol-M missiles. The majority of these warheads carry nuclear payloads, while the rest contain the latest in binary chemical munitions. The red-tipped missiles hold a new Russian VX nerve gas said to be a hundred times more lethal than sarin. Blue warheads contain a superplague engineered to resist even the latest antibiotics. None of these weapons has ever been verified under the SALT treaties. As far as the Russian government is concerned, they simply don’t exist.”

Rocky shakes her head. “No one, including the Russians, would ever risk a first assault. And there are too many checks and balances in place for an accidental launch.”

“You’re wrong!” David blurts out, losing his temper. “Christ, you piss me off, always thinking you know everything. For your information, global thermonuclear war almost broke out at least half a dozen times in the last two decades. My dad and I were in Murmansk back in ’95 when the United States launched a space probe from Norway. Russian command detected the launch. The Russkies were absolutely convinced it was the start of a nuclear attack. Remember how you felt watching those passenger jets hitting the World Trade Center? Multiply that about a million. My dad and I stood there, bawling our eyes out as the Russians initiated a sixteen-minute countdown to a full-scale nuclear response. Sixteen minutes—one thousand ICBMs with multiple nuclear warheads, all aimed at American targets. And Yeltsin—he was drunk as a skunk. The nuclear countdown reached the four-minute mark before his advisors finally convinced him to call off the attack.” David looks at Gunnar. “That was my turning point, G-man, the day that convinced me to join Simon’s movement.”

“And here I thought you joined just to feed your enormous ego.”

David turns red. “Let me tell you something, Ranger-boy, unless we intervene, there will never, ever be a complete and total elimination of nuclear weapons. Our own government refuses even to consider reducing our nuclear arsenals below two thousand warheads.”

The older of the two Kurd brothers turns to face Gunnar. “There are more immediate problems. The Russians have been smuggling plutonium to Iraq and Iran for years. Last November, two thousand kilos of weapons-grade plutonium was shipped to Baghdad under the guise of medical supplies. Saddam stores some of the materials in a basement facility beneath one of his palaces. He is attempting to build suitcase bombs for terrorist cells. It is only a matter of time before a nuclear explosive detonates in Israel or the United States.”

“How do you know all this?” Gunnar asks.

“We have our sources,” Covah replies. “What you see here is merely the tip of the iceberg. Our movement is vast. The fear of annihilation, the frustration of war is shared by many people, many organizations—”

“Like Ploughshares?”

“Ploughshares is one, but there are others, as well as powerful individuals, including several high-ranking officials in the State Department. You’d be shocked to learn how many of your own admirals and generals support our mission.”

Rocky shakes her head. “That I refuse to believe. You’re talking about career military men. Men who’ve fought in battle, men who’ve dedicated their lives to—”

“They are still human beings,” Covah interjects. “They have families. And like Gunnar and me, they’ve had access to top-secret information that frightens them.”