The Cardinal of the Kremlin - Tom Clancy [13]
"So, CIA is going to recommend against-damn it, this is the biggest concession they've ever made!"
"Fine. It's a big concession. Everyone here knows that. Before we accept it, maybe we ought to make sure that they haven't conceded something that they've made irrelevant to the process. There are other things, too."
"So you're going to oppose-"
"I'm not opposing anything. I'm saying we take our time and use our heads instead of being carried away by euphoria."
"But their draft treaty is-it's almost too good to be true." The man had just proved Ryan's point, though he didn't see it quite that way.
"Dr. Ryan," Alien said, "if the technical details can be worked out to your satisfaction, how do you view the treaty?"
"Sir, speaking from a technical point of view, a fifty-percent reduction in deliverable warheads has no effect at all on the strategic balance. It's-"
"That's crazy!" objected the junior member.
Jack extended his hand toward the man, pointing his index finger like the barrel of a gun. "Let's say I have a pistol pointed at your chest right now. Call it a nine-millimeter Browning. That has a thirteen-round clip. I agree to remove seven rounds from the clip, but I still have a loaded gun, with six rounds, pointed at your chest-do you feel any safer now?" Ryan smiled, keeping his "gun" out.
"Personally, I wouldn't. That's what we're talking about here. If both sides reduce their inventories by half, that still leaves five thousand warheads that can hit our country. Think about how big that number is. All this agreement does is to reduce the overkill. The difference between five thousand and ten thousand only affects how far the rubble flies. If we start talking about reducing the number to one thousand warheads on either side, then maybe I'll start thinking we're on to something."
"Do you think the thousand-warhead limit is achievable?" Alien asked.
"No, sir. Sometimes I just wish it were, though I've been told that a thousand-warhead limit could have the effect of making nuclear war 'winnable,' whatever the hell that means."
Jack shrugged and concluded: "Sir, if this current agreement goes through, it'll look better than it is. Maybe the symbolic value of the agreement has value in and of itself; that's a factor to be considered, but it's not one within my purview. The monetary savings to both sides will be real, but fairly minor in terms of gross military expenditures. Both sides retain half of their current arsenals-and that means keeping the newest and most effective half, of course. The bottom line remains constant: in a nuclear war, both sides would be equally dead. I do not see that this draft treaty reduces the 'threat of war,' whatever that is. To do that, we either have to eliminate the damned things entirely or figure something to keep them from working. If you ask me, we have to do the latter before we can attempt the former. Then the world becomes a safer place-maybe."
"That's the start of a whole new arms race."
"Sir, that race started so long ago that it isn't exactly new."
* * *
2.
Tea Clipper
MORE photos of Dushanbe coming in," the phone told Ryan. "Okay, I'll be over in a few minutes." Jack rose and crossed the hall to Admiral Greer's office. His boss had his back to the blazing white blanket that covered the hilly ground outside the CIA headquarters building. They were still clearing it off the parking lot, and even the railed walkway outside the seventh-floor windows had about ten inches' worth.
"What is it, Jack?" the Admiral asked.
"Dushanbe. The weather cleared unexpectedly. You said you wanted to be notified."
Greer looked at the TV monitor in the corner of his office. It was next to the computer terminal that he refused to use-at least when anyone might watch his attempts to type with his index fingers and, on good days, one thumb. He could have the real-time satellite photos sent to his office "live," but of late he'd avoided that. Jack didn't know why. "Okay, let's trot over."
Ryan held open the door