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Deep below the Moscow streets, faces at the table in the National Defense Control Center were grim. Tarasov waited until everyone had settled in their seats. He'd already decided what he was going to do, but he needed to let these men think it was their decision. He'd been waiting a long time for this moment. Ever since the day he'd learned of his father's death.
"Admiral Ivanov."
"Sir."
"What is the status of the American blockade?"
"Nothing has changed, Mister President. They seem determined to stay there as long as they want, or at least until we meet their terms. I can't break it without starting a war."
"How about the rest of you?" Tarasov said. "Do you agree with Admiral Ivanov? Are war or submission to the American demands our only options?"
General Fedorov raised his hand.
"May I be blunt, Mister President?"
"Speak your mind, General."
"The General Staff is of one mind on this issue. The American blockade is intolerable. It is an act of war."
There were murmurs of assent around the table. Fedorov continued.
"We can't break the blockade by fighting a localized action with the American Navy. Even if we could win such a battle, it would rapidly escalate to a full-scale exchange."
"What are you getting at, General?"
"We have two possible courses of action. The first is to accede to the American demands and pull back across the Euphrates. I speak for everyone in this room when I say we cannot agree to that. The American president does not believe we will resort to war. He thinks we have no choice but to retreat. Once we do that, American threats and demands for concessions will not stop."
Fedorov paused.
"We must activate MEDUZA," he said.
The word fell like a stone on the tabletop. Tarasov smiled to himself. This was going to be easier than he thought.
MEDUZA was the name of a mythical sea monster in Russian folklore, half woman, half snake. She was always pictured with poisonous serpents growing from her feet. MEDUZA was also the code name for a first strike attack against the United States. Like all first strike options, it was designed to neutralize critical military targets and defeat the enemy's ability to respond.
The fatal flaw with first strike scenarios lay in the reality of modern defense systems. Satellites watched everything. A missile launch could not be hidden. There would be enough time for the enemy to launch his own missiles in retaliation. Those kinds of scenarios always ended in mutual destruction, the reason nuclear war had been avoided in the past. No one had pulled the trigger because no one believed they could win.
MEDUZA changed that.
MEDUZA utilized undersea missiles launched like torpedoes from modified submarines. The subs were protected by stealth technology that made them virtually undetectable.
The missiles were equipped with thermonuclear warheads, each warhead the equivalent of a fifty-megaton hydrogen bomb. A radical propulsion system drove them at high speed through the water. Speed and proximity to the target made the weapons difficult to detect. For all practical purposes, they were unstoppable.
The warheads were dirty, intentionally designed to spread lethal radioactivity over wide areas. Critical stress points in the tectonic plates off the coasts of America were programmed into the computers guiding the missiles to their targets. Each detonation would trigger earthquakes and tsunamis, sending radioactive waves hundreds of feet high roaring inland across the American countryside.
All military installations on both coasts would be destroyed. At the same time, ballistic missile submarines stationed off the American coasts would launch a coordinated attack, taking out targets farther inland. ICBMs from Russia's mainland would finish the job.
The only way to win a nuclear war was to take the enemy by complete surprise. MEDUZA made that possible. By the time the Americans knew they were under attack, it would be too late.
Fedorov continued.
"General Stepanov and I have been working with Admiral Mikhailov to refine the plan in light of the current situation."
"Go on," Tarasov said.
"The key elements are already at sea. We only need to order our submarines into final position for the attack. All that is required is your permission."
"You sent the submarines out without notifying me?"
"We did not think it was necessary, Mister President," Fedorov said, smoothly. "It was simply to test our operational capability and iron out any potential problems."
Tarasov looked at him.
They've been planning this all along!
The realization that these men had tried to manipulate him made him angry. His face gave nothing away. Inwardly, Tarasov seethed. They were doing what he wanted, but they'd done it without consulting him. They thought they'd boxed him in. They thought they still controlled him, but the reality was different. Things had changed since the days when he'd needed them to stay in power, but they didn't know it yet. He was going to have to teach these arrogant bastards a lesson, but they were still useful. For now, he was forced to wait.
"You are proposing a first strike with nuclear weapons against America?"
"Yes, Mister President."
"What is your estimate of our casualties in this scenario?"
"Most of their land-based missile silos will be rendered useless. Effective enemy response will be limited almost exclusively to their submarines. We know where most of those are, and they will be destroyed. We can stop almost everything they throw at us."
"Almost everything?"
"We assume some missiles will get through our defenses. There's no way to avoid casualties. However, we will have eliminated their main ability to retaliate."
"How many casualties, General?"
"We estimate fifteen to twenty million. Possibly less."
"Only twenty million? That seems low."
Fedorov didn't pick up on the sarcasm in Tarasov's voice.
"Our defense systems are excellent, Mister President. The Americans are unaware of how good they are. Our efforts to make them believe our military is hampered by old technology and crumbling infrastructure have succeeded. Their belief has helped us conceal our true capabilities from them."
"What about their fleet? It's right off our coast, equipped with nuclear missiles."
"We have taken that into consideration. Our missiles, planes, and submarines will destroy their fleet at the same time the undersea missiles make landfall," Fedorov said. "Everything will be coordinated as one, massive strike. We are confident most of their missiles will be intercepted."
Tarasov looked at the hard-faced men at the table. They were all watching him, waiting for his decision.
"How many of you think we should proceed with MEDUZA? Give me a show of hands."
One by one, everyone raised a hand.
"Very well. General Fedorov, make the necessary preparations. If the Americans do not come to their senses, we will do it for them."
"Yes, Mister President."
"Are there any other comments?"
"Mister President."
"Yes, General Andropov?"
"Morale has been affected by the loss of our brave airmen in Syria. I want to do something about it."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Sometimes their pilots penetrate Syrian airspace. So far, we have ignored them. Our bomber was shot down with an American missile. Let's return the favor. I propose that the next time they send a plane to piss on us, we shoot it down."
Tarasov looked at the men sitting around the table. What he saw was desire for revenge.
"We have agreed to initiate MEDUZA. Isn't that enough? There is a risk things will escalate before we are ready, if we shoot down one of their planes."
"They won't start a war over one plane," Andropov said. "We can call another emergency meeting at the UN to confuse them. We could blame the Syrians, say they made a mistake. I do not believe things will get out of hand."
"General Andropov's idea has merit," Fedorov said. "It will boost morale. Our troops will be in the proper mood when MEDUZA starts."
"I agree," Stepanov said.
There were murmurs of assent around the table.
"Give the orders," Tarasov said. "Is there anything else? No? Then this meeting is adjourned."