The Romanov succession

“Stalin isn’t whipping them,” Alex said, riding right over him. “He’s only doing a bit better than he was before. He’s had time to get over the surprise-he’s had time to bring in a million troops from Siberia and the SS has given him some help with his morale. Naturally the German advance has slowed down-their supply lines are long and it’s the dead of winter up there. So the Germans will sit in their trenches until spring and then they’ll finish the job-unless Russia’s got the kind of leadership the country will follow.”

Buckner was shaking his head. “You don’t get this yet. The United States is gearing up for war. We’re too late and too slow because we’ve still got too many fools in Congress but we’re going to be in it-maybe six months from now, maybe a year. You’ve got to see it from the President’s point of view. What we need is whatever gives us the best odds that Hitler won’t nail down a quick victory. After the next twelve to eighteen months we’ll be able to handle it.”

“And?”

“We’re bound to support whatever forces offer the best chances of keeping Hitler off balance. Any interest we take in Russian internal politics is purely a secondary matter. The war takes precedence. And if Stalin proves he can hold the Germans to their present lines then we’d be fools to rock the boat by trying to overthrow the people who are containing Hitler for us.

“As of right now we’re still supporting you. It could change. If I get orders from Washington between now and the time you people go in, I’m going to have to scrub your operation.”

Buckner attempted a smile that was evidently intended to be reassuring. “Look, we’re in a position of luxury. We’re not in the war. We can play with it from a distance-we can still take the chance with you. It would be different if we were in the war, say, or if Stalin managed to wipe out Guderian’s army in the next ten days. Or if Hitler took Moscow. It isn’t all that likely to happen, is it, but if it does you’ve got to be ready to stand down. Understand?”

It had taken a great effort of will for the Americans to get off the mark in the first place: it was always easier to deal with the devil you knew; even if Roosevelt didn’t like Stalin at least he though he knew how to treat with him. The Whites were an unknown quantity to Washington and the President was prepared to deal with them only so long as he had time to feel out their intentions. If the lines around Moscow remained static it might not risk too much to have a sudden replacement of the Moscow regime-but if something else should change the picture then Washington no longer would have the latitude to risk upsetting everything.

But Alex had no intention of scrubbing the program. Nobody was going to stop it now-not Roosevelt and not Hitler and certainly not a nervous War Department colonel.

What he said was, “We’ll just have to hope nothing changes the status quo in the next couple of weeks, won’t we.”

“I suppose we do at that.” Buckner could be trusted not to be trusted: it was a form of understanding.

“You filled Churchill in. You owe us the same courtesy.” Buckner let it hang in the air and when it elicited no response he said, “Somebody took a shot at you in Boston. Somebody took another shot at you just a few days ago. Suppose the next one doesn’t miss? What happens to this operation?”

“The operation goes ahead on schedule. With me or without.”

“Then you’ve briefed your subordinates?”

“No.”

“Now I call that double-talk, Alex.”

“It’s like a blackmail scheme,” Alex told him. “The plan’s written down-every detail. In a safe place. If something happens to me it’s delivered into the hands of the White Russian coalition. They can select my successor and proceed with the minimum delay.”

Buckner said, “For Christ’s sake.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Is that any way to run a military operation? Jesus Christ.”

“Come on Glenn. Spit it out.”

“You’ve given us the overall plan. Grudgingly but you’ve told us. Your dispatch a month ago pretty much covered as much as you wanted to let us see. You’re going to draw the Soviet High Command out of the Kremlin and hit them from the air and take over communications and headquarters on the ground. Now I want the God damned details and I’m not stepping out of this room until I’ve got them.”

“Then you’d better make yourself comfortable.”

“Is that a flat refusal?”

“Not at all. But you’ll spend the better part of the next week in this room before you find out anything from me. I’ll spell out the whole design for you when I’m ready to. It’ll be well in advance of our D-day. But it won’t be today and it won’t be tomorrow.”

Buckner blinked. “You know sometimes I think I’d have got more cooperation out of that bastard Vassily Devenko.”

“You might have.”

“I could pull your airplanes out right now, Alex.”

“No. Not while this thing has a chance of working. Don’t make threats you can’t carry out-it doesn’t help either of us.”

Buckner stood up abruptly. “You got a place to billet me where I’ll be out of the way?”

“We’ll find something.”