World War III

“You left no rules to break. You cut off our grain— and we need it. That is, in and of itself, tantamount to an act of war, Mr. President. And by your own definition.”

“We have stayed at peace,” McKenna said with growing impatience, “because we very quietly and tactfully agreed that there were no villains… only values. We discarded righteous labels and opted for a corrupt peace — corrupt as hell — but peace. That is why I say, Mr. Chairman, that something went wrong.”

Gorny gave the president a gracious smile. He nodded at Rudenski, who reached for a briefcase at his feet. “Then let us try to correct any misunderstanding,” the chairman said. He pushed three pages of a document across the table. “I’ve made it as simple as possible, Mr. President. No more than eight paragraphs.”

McKenna took the pages. He handed the two copies over his shoulder to Farber without looking up as he read his page.

“Its very brevity will startle the world,” Gorny said. “Imagine, when bureaucrats from every government on earth see this, they will babble with horror. Not over the content, but the concise language.”

The president continued to peruse the document before him. “I’m babbling, too. Not over the concise language”—he glanced up—”but at the content.” He held the page up. “This is what you call correcting misunderstandings? Eight paragraphs that state your invasion is legal, our boycott is illegal, and you simply want a public announcement to that effect? Chairman Gomy, I don’t know if you’re familiar with all our American idioms, but ‘fat chance’ seems to be the proper response here.”

The interpreter hesitated in midsentence. He glanced at McKenna with a puzzled look.

“Not fucking likely,” the president said, enunciating every syllable with clarity.

The interpreter’s face paled. He swallowed, glancing at the chairman. Gorny looked solemnly at Rudenski. “Nyet” he said.

The KGB chief cocked his head. Without taking his eyes off McKenna he made a rapid response in Russian. Gorny nodded sadly. For the briefest instant, McKenna had the sudden feeling that he was talking to the wrong man. He had a frightening impression that Rudenski was in charge.

“Mr. President,” Gorny said softly. “Colonel-General Rudenski reminds me that our special unit will be at the pipeline in under fourteen hours.”

“I don’t think they’ll make it,” the president snapped.

“Then, if not, we have no leverage. You have no problem. But”—his eyes found McKenna’s—”how did you say it… fat chance?”

“I think you have totally miscalculated the American people,” McKenna retorted.

“I am only concerned with the American leadership.”

The president shook his head. “Big mistake. Whatever you have been taught, whatever you have heard, the American people, sooner or later, are their own leaders.”

“Then it is to their best interest not to push the Soviet people further into desperation. Grain is less expensive than lives, I think.”

“If that’s a threat—”

“Please, Mr. President.” Gorny leaned back in his seat. “I have no desire to break off our talk, but I do not know how much more productive continuing this discussion can be if you insist on rejecting our offer out of hand.”

“Shall we at least agree to consider or reconsider our positions?”

The chairman smiled. “Meaning you’d like me to reconsider?”

“Of course. Besides, you knew I wasn’t going to swallow”—he nodded at the document—”that.”

Gorny didn’t answer. He glanced at Rudenski.

“Wouldn’t you feel much better,” McKenna said, “if you could inform your Central Committee that the American president is being very steady in this explosive affair?”

“Yes,” Gorny said flatly. “I’d feel better.”

“Then it’s done. The issue is frozen for, say, twelve hours. But no longer — we will not accept a fait accompli on our territory. You instruct your column to stop and I’ll guarantee no gunplay. Fair?”

Gorny glanced quickly at Rudenski. The external affairs minister made no acknowledgment. Gorny licked his lower lip. “I will be in touch with you as soon as I have contacted the field commander, Mr.

President,” he said. “It is best not to make promises until all concerned have been properly instructed.”

“But you will call me immediately?”

Gorny nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.” The president let out a sigh. “I assume it’s to your benefit as well as mine to keep this entire affair within the group that has been coping with it thus far?”

“You want me to help you keep news of this… situation away from the American public?”

“That would be very much in your interest, Mr. Chairman. The American public does not know you to be an intelligent and rational man as I do. They are very stubborn and romantic about their country.

And they might not understand this situation as well as you and I. They would see the contest in Alaska in a different light.”

“Contest? Do you think it is a contest, Mr. President?”

“In a way, yes. But the people would see it differently. They don’t like to lose.”

“Then go home, Mr. President… see that no one loses”