Dovzhenko bade the members of the press corps farewell, then led the senator and his aides through a side door to a book-lined study, where they were served tea. After some pleasantries, they quickly got to the heart of the matter.
“I’m hearing reports that some fifty thousand Russian troops are currently conducting exercises close to your territory,” Dayton said. “Is this accurate?”
“Unfortunately, no—the number is considerably higher,” Dovzhenko replied. “As of this morning, Luganov has amassed more than a hundred thousand men and more than a thousand battle tanks on our borders. Squadrons of bombers and fighter jets have been redeployed from the Asian theater to the military district immediately adjacent to us. And the number of Russian intrusions into our sovereign airspace has quadrupled in the past two weeks.”
“Have you talked directly to President Clarke about all this?”
“We spoke briefly when I congratulated him on his election,” Dovzhenko replied uncomfortably. “We spoke again last week for a bit longer. The president assured me he considers Ukrainian freedom a ‘major priority.’”
“Has he invited you to the White House?”
“Not yet.”
“But he’s promised to send more aid?”
“Yes, well, a bit—but ‘nonlethal assistance’ only, I’m afraid.”
“What about the heavy arms and ammunition you’ve been asking for?”
“Let’s just say the president was noncommittal,” said the Ukrainian leader. “I will tell you what I told him. We are not asking for American or NATO troops to shed a single drop of blood for us. We are ready to fight the Russians alone. But give us the means to defend ourselves with honor.” Dovzhenko leaned forward in his seat and lowered his voice. “Senator, I know you are familiar with the Budapest Memorandum, but how many other Americans are?”
“Very few, I’m afraid.”
“Then I ask you to educate them,” Dovzhenko said. “They need to understand that when the Soviet Union collapsed in December of 1991, we in Ukraine possessed almost two thousand nuclear warheads. At that time your president, along with the British prime minister, insisted that we turn these warheads over to Russia to be dismantled and destroyed. As you can understand, we were highly reluctant. Those weapons provided us a guarantee—perhaps our only guarantee—that we would never be reinvaded and reoccupied by the Russians. But Washington and London pushed us hard to give them up in return for so-called ‘security assurances’—including assurances that Moscow would respect our sovereignty and borders. On December 5, 1994, my predecessor signed the agreement in Budapest.”
Dovzhenko paused for effect.
“Senator, Ukraine kept its part of the deal. We gave up our nuclear weapons. All of them. But Moscow has broken its word. They have annexed Crimea. They have seized parts of our eastern territory. And they are preparing to come for the rest of us. They would never have done so if we were a nuclear-armed power. We are not, because your country and the British persuaded us to give up those weapons with the promise that you would never let us be threatened, much less invaded, by the Russians. Yet here we sit. Forgive my bluntness, but your president does nothing.”
“President Dovzhenko, this is a significant reason I am actively considering running for president myself,” said the senator. “I see what Luganov is up to. I want to strengthen NATO, and I want to help you—with arms, with intelligence, with whatever you need so you can defend yourselves, by yourselves.”
“This is all very well and good, Senator, and believe me, I and my people are grateful for your wisdom and your courage. But let us be frank. I will not get involved in your presidential campaign. I cannot afford to play partisan politics. Time is of the essence. I agreed to meet with you in hopes that you will take a personal message back to the president, back to Congress, and back to the American people. The Russian bear is awake, and he is hungry. He is on the prowl. Our very lives and freedoms are at risk. You made us promises. You must keep them. I implore you, sir—keep them now.”
EN ROUTE TO TALLINN, ESTONIA—21 SEPTEMBER
“Dovzhenko is right,” Dayton said after they lifted off from Kiev. “We need to figure out how to help him.”
“No, sir, he’s not right—not entirely,” Annie replied.
Marcus looked up from a text he was writing to Nick Vinetti in Moscow.
“What do you mean?” the senator asked. “The Ukrainians did give up their nukes in return for American and British security guarantees. Now they’re about to be overrun by the Russians, and the White House is AWOL.”
“It’s not that simple, sir.”
“Sure it is,” Pete interjected. “Look, this isn’t just a strategic issue. It’s a moral one. America doesn’t cut our allies loose. Yet that’s exactly what Clarke has done. And if you position yourself right, Senator, you can use this to show that Clarke has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to foreign policy.”
“Annie, Pete’s right,” Dayton said.
“No, sir, he’s not,” Annie pushed back firmly but respectfully.
“Why not?”
“For starters, Ukraine is not an ally,” she replied. “A friend? Yes. But an ally? No. Second, reread the Budapest Memorandum. There’s no question the Russians pledged to respect the territorial integrity of Ukraine, and there’s also no question that they have clearly and repeatedly broken that pledge. But nowhere in that document does the U.S. explicitly promise to go to war with Russia to defend Ukraine. Nor does it explicitly commit an American president to provide weapons and other war matériel to Ukraine if the agreement is violated. It’s not a treaty, and if it were, it never would have been ratified by the Senate—not in 1994 and certainly not now.”
“What are you saying?” Pete asked, becoming far more animated about this than Marcus would have imagined. “Are you suggesting Clarke is right to cut the Ukrainians loose to the likes of Aleksandr Luganov?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then what?”
“I’m suggesting the senator would be wise to tread with extreme caution and not publicly commit himself to war with Russia in order to protect Ukraine,” she replied. “Don’t get me wrong. I feel for Dovzhenko and his people. Believe me, I do.”
“But . . . ?” Pete pressed.
“But the truth is we simply do not have a treaty obligation to Kiev. We do have one with the Baltics, though. In a few hours, Senator, you’ll be sitting with the Estonian prime minister. Estonia is a member of NATO. If the Russians were to move against Estonia or Latvia or Lithuania, then the U.S. would have a legal obligation to defend them. Yet even this raises a critical question, sir, especially for a progressive Democrat like yourself.”
“Which is?”
“Are you sure you are willing to risk a nuclear war with Russia to defend three countries that few Americans have ever heard of? On top of that, are you really ready to go to war to defend a country with whom we don’t even have a treaty? And either way, how exactly are you going to sell that to the Democratic Party and win your party’s nomination?”
They arrived at Toompea Castle just in time for their noon meeting.
The castle, built around the thirteenth century, was a mammoth structure surrounded by a high stone wall. After a brief photo op similar to the one in Kiev, Prime Minister Voldemar Jannsen invited Dayton and the team to join him for lunch along with the ministers of defense and foreign affairs.
As soon as lunch was served, Jannsen got down to business. “My intelligence chiefs tell me Luganov has positioned more than fifty thousand Russian combat soldiers on our border in addition to the hundred thousand troops he’s positioned in Belarus and on the borders of Ukraine. In addition, he’s moved four hundred battle tanks and fifteen squadrons of bombers and fighters within striking distance of us and our Baltic neighbors. The Kremlin says it’s an exercise. But my advisors say it’s the prelude to war.”
“We heard similar concerns in Kiev,” the senator replied.
“I’
m sure you did, but you don’t have a treaty with Kiev. You do have one with us.”
“And we will honor it,” Dayton said without hesitation.
Marcus glanced at Annie, who kept a poker face.
“Will you, Senator?” the prime minister asked. “I don’t mean to be undiplomatic, but your president seems awfully vague about Article 5.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true—and that’s one of the reasons I’m considering running.”
The prime minister shifted in his seat. “Senator, I hope you will not be offended when I say this.”
“No, of course not.”
“Whether you run for the presidency of your country or not is of little concern to me and my colleagues. We cannot wait for a new American president. Tallinn is less than two hundred miles from the Russian border. I need the man who sits in the White House right now to step up and give us a decisive and demonstrative show of support before it’s too late.”
“I hear you,” Dayton said. “And I’m heading to Brussels in a few days. I’m going to deliver a major speech calling for all NATO countries to step up and fulfill their obligations to invest at least 2 percent of their GDP on annual defense expenditures, as stated in the NATO accord.”
“I appreciate that, Senator—I do. We absolutely need every NATO country to do their fair share. We certainly are, and more. Our defense spending has hit 2 percent and usually more nearly every year since Estonia gained membership in NATO in 2004. But again, as important as shining a spotlight on this investment issue is, it’s not going to help much if the Russians invade next week or next month.”
“I take your point,” Dayton said. “What specifically do you need, Mr. Prime Minister?”
“What do I need?” Jannsen asked. “For starters, why isn’t NATO flowing in combat brigades, tanks, fighter jets, and antiaircraft missiles, not just here but throughout the Baltics? The Russians have put together an overwhelming force. By all evidence, they are training for an invasion right now. Tomorrow I will take you to the border. I will introduce you to my top generals. I will show you the current disposition of forces. But what have Washington or London or Brussels or Berlin done in response? They’ve issued meaningless condemnations of Luganov and vague statements of support for the Baltics. What I need is troops and heavy weapons, not more words.”
“Again, that is precisely why I have come, Mr. Prime Minister—to see the situation for myself and be able to sound the alarm throughout Europe and back in Washington.”
“Good,” Jannsen said. “We’re not getting many representatives from Washington coming through the Baltics these days, and we’re grateful for every friend we can find over there. But may I be even more candid with you, Senator?”
“Of course.”
At this, the prime minister leaned close to Dayton and lowered his voice, such that Marcus had to strain to hear every word, even though he was sitting with Annie and Pete just a few feet away.
“Please take this message back directly to President Clarke. At this moment the very existence of my country hangs in the balance. And I must tell you the existence of NATO itself is very much in jeopardy.”
“Go on.”
“If the Russians invade Ukraine, that’s horrible, but it doesn’t obligate Washington to take action,” Jannsen said almost in a whisper. “But if Luganov invades the Baltics, Article 5 kicks in. If you honor your treaty obligations, then you and the rest of NATO have to come to war to drive out the Russians and reestablish our independence. But let’s be brutally honest. If Russians and Americans start killing each other, Luganov is going to use tactical battlefield nuclear weapons. When that happens, many Estonians, Latvians, and Lithuanians will die in a millisecond. Millions more will die horrifying deaths in the days and weeks that follow. And it won’t just be us. NATO forces will die as well, including Americans. Then your president will be faced with the ultimate worst-case scenario—will he retaliate against Moscow and other Russian cities with ICBMs and nuclear weapons? If he does, he knows he runs the risk of setting into motion a global thermonuclear war, which will lead to the deaths of hundreds of millions. But if he backs down and chooses not to honor the NATO treaty, then he is signing the death sentence not just for us but for all of NATO. What’s more, he’ll be creating a monster—Aleksandr Luganov will have not only seized the Baltics, he will have personally crushed NATO. He will have effectively paralyzed the United States. And in so doing he will have won the right to dictate terms on any matter, anywhere on the globe, financial, political, military, and otherwise.”
The prime minister paused to let his words sink in. “You must not kid yourself, Senator,” he added after a moment. “These are the stakes, and they are very high—unimaginably high.”
“Do you see any hope?” Dayton asked.
“Perhaps,” Jannsen replied. “But it’s a narrow path, and rapidly becoming narrower still. Go back and implore the president to send us the Eighty-Second Airborne. Send us mechanized units. Order American battle tanks that are in storage to be taken out of mothballs and readied for service. Send fighter squadrons. Send bombers. The only hope to prevent the very real scenario I just laid out is for the U.S. and the rest of NATO to make a clear stand with us and do so immediately. Build up a force here big enough to make Luganov think twice. You don’t have to match him man for man, tank for tank, plane for plane. You just have to show that NATO is ready to go toe-to-toe with him using conventional forces. That’s how you stop him. And that’s how you make sure that all-out nuclear war isn’t the only option to protect freedom on the earth.”
EASTERN ESTONIA, NEAR THE GULF OF FINLAND—22 SEPTEMBER
What stunned Marcus was that the first missile came slicing across the cloudy morning sky—low and sizzling hot—from behind them.
The moment it hit its target and created a deafening explosion, Annie grabbed his arm. Seeing that, Pete shot Marcus a look deadlier than the missile. But more were coming. Almost instantly six additional air-to-ground rockets came streaking overhead, all from behind them. The roar of the explosions and the magnitude of the resulting fireballs startled the senator and his staff. For Marcus and Pete, it brought back their years in the corps, both their training and their tours in Iraq and Afghanistan.
As Prime Minister Jannsen, standing beside them, explained why his forces conducted live-fire exercises when most militaries in the world did not, helicopter gunships and attack choppers came swooping in. Each were firing .50-caliber rounds at faux Russian battle tanks constructed out of cinder blocks and wood in a long and heavily forested valley stretching out before them for several kilometers. Soon Estonian tanks and armored personnel carriers emerged from a glade to their left. They, too, opened fire, and when they did, the prime minister’s words were immediately drowned out. Moments later, Black Hawk helicopters came into view from their right. Commandos began fast-roping to the deck and sprinting for cover, firing American-made antitank missiles and tossing grenades as they did.
The entire exercise lasted about an hour. Marcus found himself impressed by the professionalism of the ground troops and their air support as well as by the intelligence briefing Jannsen and his generals provided afterward. These men were deadly serious about defending their nation from the Russians, whether NATO came to help them or not. But the message they were trying to convey was painfully clear: while they would all fight to the bitter end, that end would come brutally fast unless NATO—and especially the Americans—kept their Article 5 commitment and came to their rescue.
Over a working lunch in their command bunker, Senator Dayton asked one insightful and penetrating question after another. Marcus could see he was not here to grandstand. He genuinely wanted to understand the latest intelligence that was causing the Estonians and their Baltic neighbors such angst. He also wanted to grasp as much of their game plan for resisting the Russians as they felt comfortable sharing, given that of all the senator’s staff members, only Annie had a top secret security clearance.
That evening Dayton and the team dined back in Tallinn with the U.S. ambassador to Estonia inside the embassy compound. Over dwarf herring, smoked eel, plenty of black bread, and red wine, they compared notes with the ambassador—a career Foreign Service officer in her fifties who had served in a half-dozen other East European posts and was fluent in Russian, Polish, and German and conversant in Estonian—on the readiness of the local forces as well as the reluctance of NATO commanders to send more manpower and machinery. The senator also pressed the ambassador on what she made of the Russians’ snap exercises. She insisted this was “business as usual” and “one of dozens of such exercises I’ve seen since being posted here.” She intimated that the prime minister’s growing concern of a Russian move was “slightly overheated, between you and me.” That said, she conceded she was genuinely worried Luganov might make a move—and soon—deeper into Ukraine. Whether he was crazy enough to go all the way for Kiev, she couldn’t say, but she indicated that she had conveyed her concerns to the State Department as recently as that morning.
Just before dessert came, Marcus received a phone call from Washington. He apologized for the intrusion, excused himself from the table, and stepped out of the ornate dining room into a hallway. The number was from the White House. On the other end of the line was Bill McDermott, who had recently been promoted to deputy national security advisor by President Clarke.
“Bill, good to hear from you,” Marcus said when he’d found a bit of privacy. “Congrats on the new gig.”
McDermott let loose with a tirade of profanity. “Estonia? With the likes of Bob Dayton? Are you insane?”
“Whoa, whoa, take it easy, Bill. What’s gotten into you?”
“The president is preparing for a major reelection campaign, and suddenly I hear you and Pete are cavorting with the enemy?”