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  “You personally and officially inquire about the contents of those spaceplanes, yes?”

  “Of course, Mr. President, as soon as I am notified that a launch is imminent,” Titeneva replied. “The Americans’ usual replies are ‘personnel,’ ‘supplies,’ and ‘classified.’ They never give any details.”

  “And unofficially?”

  “Security is still very tight, sir,” she said. “The spaceplane flights and most operations aboard Armstrong Space Station are done by civilian contractors, and their security is very sophisticated and multileveled. None of my contacts in Washington know much at all about the contractors, except as we have seen, many of them are ex-military officers and technicians. It is very difficult for me to get much information on the contractor-run space program, I’m afraid. Minister Kazyanov might have more information.”

  “I see,” Gryzlov said. He fell silent for a few moments; then: “You have been granted permission to speak before the Security Council prior to the vote on our resolution about the American’s outrageous space initiative, correct?”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  Gryzlov blew a cloud of smoke into the air above his desk, then set the cigar in an ashtray and got out of his seat, and as protocol dictated, Titeneva immediately rose as well. “You left my father’s side, Daria, because you could not handle the level of responsibility and initiative that my father wanted to give you,” Gryzlov said, walking over to her and impaling the woman with an icy, direct stare. “You were not tough enough to be with him, even as his lover. You left Moscow for the high-society parties in New York and Washington rather than help him fight in the political ditches in the Kremlin.”

  “Who told you these lies, Mr. President?” Titeneva asked, her eyes flaring in anger. “That old goat Tarzarov?”

  In a blur of motion that Titeneva never saw coming, Gryzlov slapped her across the face with an open right hand. She reeled from the blow, shaking stars out of her head, but Gryzlov noticed that she did not retreat or cry out, and in moments had straightened her back and stood tall before him. Again, in a flash he was on her, his lips locked onto hers, pulling her head to him with his right hand while his left roamed her breasts. Then, after a long and rough kiss, he pushed her away from him. She rubbed her cheek, then her lips with the back of her hand, but again stood tall before him, refusing to back away.

  “You are going to New York City and addressing the United Nations Security Council,” Gryzlov said, boring his eyes directly into hers, “but you are not going to be this mature, wise, respected, demure diplomat any longer, do you understand me? You are going to be the tigress my father wanted and trained but never had. I can see that tigress in your eyes, Daria, but you have been mired in a comfortable life in the Foreign Ministry with your war-hero husband, tolerating his little dalliances because you want to keep your cushy job. Well, no longer.

  “You will go to the Security Council, and Russia will get all that I demand, or we will have nothing more to do with the United Nations,” Gryzlov said. “You will get that resolution passed, or you will blow that place up. You will show my displeasure and anger without any doubt in anyone’s minds, or do not bother returning from New York.”

  “The United States will veto the resolution, Gennadiy,” Titeneva snapped. Gryzlov noticed the change in the tone of her voice and smiled—like a champion Thoroughbred racehorse, she was responding well to a little discipline, he thought. “You know that as well as I.”

  “Then bring that place down,” Gryzlov said. “That chamber, and the entire fucking world, should understand clearly how angry I will be if that resolution does not pass.” He grasped the hair behind her neck, pulled her to him, and gave her another deep kiss, then pulled her away from him. “If you choose to be the bunny rabbit instead of the tigress, and you dare return to the Kremlin, then I will make sure you become someone’s little bunny. Maybe even mine. And I guarantee you will not enjoy it. Now get the hell out of here.”

  Sergei Tarzarov entered the president’s office a few moments after Titeneva departed. “Not a typical staff meeting, I assume, sir?” he said, touching his own lips as a signal.

  “Just a little motivational pep talk before her trip to New York City,” Gryzlov said gruffly, wiping lipstick off his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where is Ilianov?”

  “On the secure phone from Washington, channel three,” Tarzarov said.

  Gryzlov picked up the phone, stabbed at the channel selector, and impatiently waited for the decryption circuitry to make the connection. “Colonel?”

  “Secure, sir,” Ilianov replied.

  “What in hell happened out there?”

  “It was completely unexpected, sir,” Ilianov said. “Apparently McLanahan does have a security detail, because they took down my team, took McLanahan, and closed the house down before sunrise.”

  “Where is your team?”

  “Unknown, sir,” Ilianov said. “They are not in local civilian law enforcement custody, that much I know.”

  “Shit,” Gryzlov swore. “Either FBI or private security. They will be singing like birds in record time, especially if they are in the hands of civilian countersurveillance operatives. I told you, Colonel, do not assume anything. Where is McLanahan now?”

  “He has just now surfaced, sir,” Ilianov said. “He has registered as a resident of one of the campus apartment complexes. He was injured during my team’s invasion, but appears to be all right now. We are studying his movements, the apartment complex’s security, and searching for the presence of his personal security forces. We will not be surprised again. So far, we have detected nothing. McLanahan appears to have resumed his routine movements since before the invasion. We can detect no security surrounding him.”

  “Look harder, then, Colonel, damn you!” Gryzlov snapped. “I want him taken down. I do not care if you have to send in an entire platoon to get him—I want him destroyed. Get on it!”

  NORWEGIAN ROOM, UNITED NATIONS SECURITY COUNCIL CHAMBER

  NEW YORK CITY

  A FEW DAYS LATER

  “This illegal, dangerous, and provocative push for American domination of space must end immediately,” Russian foreign minister Daria Titeneva shouted. She was addressing a meeting of the United Nations Security Council in New York City, seated in the ambassador’s chair beside Russian UN ambassador Andrei Naryshkin. “Russia has recorded a thirty percent increase in the number of spaceplane and unmanned boosted flights to the American military space station since President Phoenix made his announcement concerning American control of space. Russia has evidence that the United States is reactivating its constellation of space-weapon satellites called Kingfishers, and will also reactivate the space-based free-electron laser called Skybolt with improved aiming systems and increased power, making it capable of destroying targets anywhere on Earth. All this appears to be nothing more than an election-year show of power, but President Phoenix is playing a very dangerous game, threatening the peace and stability of the entire world just to gain a few votes.

  “The Russian government has drafted a resolution for the Security Council’s consideration that demands that the United States of America cancel plans to reactivate all its space weapons and that it destroy the ones already in Earth orbit, and orders President Kenneth Phoenix to reverse his stated position that any orbit occupied by an American spacecraft is sovereign American territory that can be defended with military force. Outer space is not, and should never be, dominated by any one nation or alliance. I ask for Council authorization for Russia’s resolution to be presented to the procedural committee and then to the Security Council for a vote, with immediate implementation thereafter—after an affirmative vote. Thank you, Mr. President.” There was a faint round of applause after Titeneva finished her address—not exactly a resounding sign of approval, but a rather ominous signal of difficulties for the Americans.

  “Thank you, Miss Foreign Minister,” Sofyan Apriyanto of Indonesia, the rotating president of the
United Nations Security Council, said. “The chair recognizes Ambassador Ells for ten minutes for rebuttal.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” Paula Ells, U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, responded. “I shall not need ten minutes to refute the Russian foreign minister’s allegations. Her claims and accusations are completely baseless and her facts are inaccurate at best and outright lies at worst.”

  “How dare you, Ambassador!” Titeneva shouted when she heard the translation. “How dare you call me a liar! The evidence is plain for the whole world to see! It is you and Phoenix’s entire administration who are the liars and instigators here!”

  Ambassador Paula Ells blinked in surprise. She had met, and spent time with, the veteran Kremlin bureaucrat many times in her career and knew her as a calm, intelligent, completely professional person, but since she had arrived in New York, she was almost unrecognizable. She had given several interviews to the world press, slamming President Phoenix and his space initiative, using words that Ells had never heard her utter before. That attitude was continuing here, with even greater acidity. “The only facts that you stated that are true are the increases in spaceplane and unmanned rocket flights,” Ells said, “but as usual, you state only half-truths and formulate wild accusations that are not supported by the facts:

  “Our spacecraft missions have increased, it’s true, but only because Russia has decreased the number of Soyuz and Progress missions to the International Space Station, for some unknown reason, and the United States decided to step up and increase our missions to fill the void,” Ells went on. “Our spaceplane and commercial missions are not just going to Armstrong Space Station, as the foreign minister claims, but to the International Space Station as well. If Russia thinks they can influence foreign affairs by postponing and canceling critical supply missions—missions that have already been bought and paid for, I should add—they are completely misguided.

  “As to this draft resolution, Mr. President: the wording is so broad and vague that it could have been better written by a seventh grader,” Ells continued. Titeneva slapped her hand on her desk and said something to Naryshkin, angrily jabbing a finger first at Ells, then at him. “If this resolution were to be adopted, the United Nations could for all practical purposes shut down the American Global Positioning System, because it is an integral part of space-weapon systems, yet it makes no mention of the Russian GLONASS satellite navigation system, which has the same capability.

  “In addition, the resolution seeks to ban any weapon system that has anything, however remote, to do with spacecraft traveling above the atmosphere, which means the United Nations could ground all American heavy airlifters because at one time they test-launched ballistic missiles from aircraft, or beach cargo ships because they once carried parts for space weapons,” Ells went on. “The resolution has nothing to do with peace and security and has everything to do with presenting a resolution to the Security Council that forces a veto from the United States, so that the Russian Federation can point to America with horror and tell the world that the United States is bent on dominating outer space. The United States hopes that the other members of the Council will see this tactic for exactly what it is: a cheap political ploy, using trumped-up evidence, distorted data, and fear-mongering. I urge the Council to reject introducing this resolution to committee and not give it any more consideration.”

  Ells turned directly to Titeneva. “Miss Foreign Minister . . . Daria, let’s sit down with Secretary Morrison and work out a compromise,” she implored, raising her hands as if in surrender. “President Phoenix’s initiative is not a rearming of space. The United States stands ready to do whatever the international community wishes in order to verify our intentions and assets in space. We should—”

  “Do not address me as if we are sisters, Ambassador Ells!” Titeneva snapped. “Show some respect. And it is far, far past the time for verification—the United States should have thought of that before Phoenix’s proclamation from the military space station! The United States has just one option for demonstrating its sincerity, openness, and genuine desire for peace: dismantle the entire space-weapon infrastructure immediately!”

  Ells’s shoulders slumped as she perceived Titeneva’s rising anger. There was simply no talking to her. It was as if she had turned into some sort of snarling monster in a Daria Titeneva costume. Ells turned to the Security Council president and said, “I have nothing further to add, Mr. President. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Ambassador Ells,” President Sofyan Apriyanto said. “Are there any more comments on the motion to introduce the Russian resolution into committee?” There were a few more brief speeches, both in favor and against. “Thank you. If there are no more comments, I shall entertain a motion to send the resolution to committee.”

  “So moved, Mr. President,” Russian ambassador Andrei Naryshkin said.

  “Seconded,” said the ambassador from the People’s Republic of China immediately, obviously prearranged so that China would be on record as supporting the measure.

  “The resolution has been moved and seconded,” Apriyanto said. “I offer one more opportunity for discussion with your governments or to offer any amendments.” There were no takers, and the secretary-general moved along quickly: “Very well. If there are no objections, I call for a vote. All in favor, please signify by raising your hand, and please keep your hand raised so an accurate count may be made.”

  Every hand went up, including those of the representatives from Great Britain and France . . . except one, that of Ambassador Paula Ells from the United States. “All those opposed, please signify by raising your hands.” All hands went down except Paula Ells’s. “The chair recognizes a nay vote from the United States of America,” Apriyanto observed, “and as such, the resolution is not carried.”

  “This is an outrage!” Russian foreign minister Titeneva shouted. “The Russian Federation protests this vote in the strongest terms! The resolution was voted in favor by all but one nation! All have voted in favor save one! This cannot stand!”

  “Madame Foreign Minister, with all respect, you have not been recognized by the chair,” President Apriyanto said. “The Security Council granted you the privilege of addressing its members on this matter in place of your ambassador, but has not granted you the right to make any remarks regarding the outcome of any vote. As you well know, the United States of America, as well as the Russian Federation and the other permanent members of the Council, exercise their privilege of great power unanimity when they cast a nay vote. The Russian Federation, and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics before it, exercised the same privilege many times in the past. Thank you. May I call the Council’s attention to the next item on the—”

  “Do not dismiss me like some child!” Titeneva shouted. “Mr. President, this will not stand! President Kenneth Phoenix is about to grab complete and unfettered control of space, and the Security Council will do nothing to stop him? This is madness!”

  Apriyanto picked up a small gavel and tapped its handle lightly on its sounding block, attempting to calm the Russian foreign minister without gaveling her into silence . . . or worse. “Madame Foreign Minister, you are out of order. Please—”

  “No, this Council is out of order! This entire body is out of order!” Titeneva shouted. “Russia will not stand for this!”

  “Madame Foreign Minister, please—”

  “Mr. President, President Phoenix’s declaration is clearly a violation of Chapter Seven of the United Nations Charter, which prohibits member nations from threatening the peace or conducting acts of aggression,” Titeneva said loudly. “Chapter Seven authorizes the Security Council to act to preserve the peace and stop aggression.”

  “The United States is not threatening anyone, Madame Foreign Minister,” Ells said. “President Phoenix’s program is a technology laboratory to advance peaceful access to space. We are not activating any space weapons. We want—”

  “You can say that all you want, Ells, but you
r words do not make it so,” Titeneva said. “Mr. President, the veto does not apply in this matter because the resolution directly involves the United States, and a permanent member nation of the Security Council cannot veto a resolution against itself. They must abstain, and therefore the resolution passes.”

  “The Parliamentary Committee has already ruled that the resolution, although obviously aimed at the United States’ recently announced space program, applies to any spacefaring nation, and is therefore subject to veto,” Apriyanto said. “Madame Foreign Minister, you are out of order. You may file a protest with the secretary-general and appeal to the General Assembly, but the resolution did not carry and the matter is closed. You may continue to observe our proceedings, but—”

  “I will not continue to sit and observe this farce,” Titeneva said, shooting to her feet and throwing the translation earpiece on the table before her. “Listen to me very carefully. If the Security Council will not act, Russia will. Russia will not cooperate with any nation that opposes our desire for security against the American military space program, and if Russia detects that the United States is militarizing any aspect of their space hardware, Russia will consider that an act of war and will respond accordingly.

  “Russian president Gryzlov has authorized me to inform you that Russia will no longer support manned or unmanned supply missions to the International Space Station,” Titeneva thundered on. “Further, Russia demands that the modules on the International Space Station that belong to Russia must be disconnected and made ready to transport to their own orbits immediately. The Russian modules are hereby considered sovereign Russian territory and must be vacated and surrendered to Russian control.”

  “Detach the Russian modules?” Paula Ells retorted. “It’s not a Lego toy up there, Daria. The modules were Russia’s contribution to an international partnership. That partnership pays for the modules’ upkeep, and the partnership pays Russia for use of the modules and for Soyuz support missions. You can’t just take your bat and ball and go home—we’re talking about twenty-ton modules traveling thousands of miles an hour orbiting hundreds of—”