"Pardon me, Minister, " she said, "but General Ivanov is here to see you, sir."

General Alexander Ivanov was the military chief of the Russian Air Force. "I do not remember an appointment with Ivanov."

"You did not have an appointment, Minister. The general says it is an emergency."

Fabulous. Another emergency. That's all Giorgy Alexeevich Popkov needed before meeting with an angry president. "Send him in, Olga."

The general, tall and lean with high cheekbones and white hair, wearing his crisp green Air Force uniform with a multitude of medals, stepped into the spacious office.

"Ah, General Ivanov. To what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise?"

"I am afraid there is bad news."

Popkov stood and ripped off his glasses. "Spit it out, General."

"We have lost two of our Fulcrums. One of our pilots is presumed dead. The other has been captured by the Americans."

"The Americans!" Popkov slammed his fist on his desk. "Explain this!"

"Two of our jets delivered their rockets against ground targets in Chechnya. They wound up in Georgian airspace. American F-15s engaged them. One was shot down over Tbilisi. The other was shot down over the Turkish border."

"Do our pilots not know the president's orders? Our instructions were specific. No planes over Georgia. And now you are telling me that our planes are not only over Georgia, but also over Turkey?"

"Yes, our radar tapes are showing that, Comrade Minister." The general spoke in a stoic voice.

"You are aware, are you not, that Turkey is a member of NATO?"

"Of course, Comrade Minister."

"And you are aware, are you not, that the motto of NATO is that an attack against one is an attack against all? And that a Russian jet over Turkey is at least, in theory, the equivalent of a Russian jet over Britain or America?"

"Of course, Comrade Minister, I am aware of this. But our jet was not attacking Turkey. And reviewing the radar tapes, I am convinced that the incursion of Turkish airspace was inadvertent."

"Inadvertent?" Popkov wanted to fire his air boss on the spot. "And are our pilots so incompetent that one of them would inadvertently violate Turkish airspace, General?"

"Minister, in reviewing the tapes, three things are clear. First, our jets were over Georgia, but they were on a direct course for Armenia. We do not understand why. We did not attack anyone or anything in Georgia. Our incursion of Georgian airspace appears to have been accidental.

"Second, the American F-15s fired on our planes first. Not the other way around. The Americans were the aggressors here. Our planes fired back in an attempt to defend themselves.

"Third, our MiG was engaged in a dogfight with an American F-15 when it crossed over into Turkish airspace. When you are engaged in a dogfight for your life, you pay no attention to the borders below you. I believe that our pilot did not intentionally fly across the Turkish border."

"General, I remind you that our objective here is to recover plutonium, not to start World War Three with the Americans!"

"And I would remind the minister that the Army, and not the Air Force, lost our plutonium to begin with."

"You're out of line, General!" Popkov slammed his fist on the desk again. "You expect me to tell the president that both our Army and our Air Force are incompetent?"

"My apologies, Minister."

"I should fire both you and your Army counterpart on the spot right now!"

"Please, Minister."

Popkov ran his hand through his hair. "Sit down, General. I must think."

The general complied.

"Listen, General. This plutonium ordeal has caused great consternation in Moscow in the highest levels of the Russian government. There are those who would, shall we say, replace the upper leadership in the Defense Ministry." The general did not respond. "And if upper level leadership in the ministry is replaced, that would ordinarily not only include the minister of defense, but also the chief of the Russian Army, and the chief of the Russian Air Force, the position which you currently occupy. Do you understand me, General?"

The air general sat erect with his cover in his lap, an unemotional rock. "Yes, Minister. I believe that I understand you."

Popkov tapped a pen on his desk. "Well, if there is any ambiguity about what I mean, then what I mean is this. This incident did not happen as you say it did. Now you understand me?"

Enlightened recognition crossed the general's face. His steely eyes lit up, at least to the extent that such cold black eyes were capable of lighting up. "I understand perfectly, Minister."

"This means, of course, that whatever happened up there will need to be supported by the paperwork."

"Of course, Minister."

"Radar tapes, transmission recordings, whatever – will need to back the report I give the president. Will that be a problem?"

"No problem whatsoever, Minister."

"Good. I meet with the president in one hour. To the extent that you can provide supporting information for my report, that would be very helpful. You do understand the importance of all this, no?"

"Consider it done, sir!"

"Very well, General. You are dismissed."

Office of the president of the Russian Republic Staraya Square, Moscow

Three hours later

President Vitaly Sergeivich Evtimov sat behind his large desk, discussing the Chechen and Georgian situations with Foreign Minister Kotenkov.

"I believe the solution, Vitaly Sergeivich, is oil."

"And just like that, you believe Georgia will return to her native Soviet roots?"

"Ukraine seems to be leaning that way."

"Ukraine is different, Alexander Alexeyvich, " Evtimov said. "Ukraine is stronger than Georgia. And whether Ukraine breaks its fascination with America will depend upon President Butrin. Ukraine's size and independence gives it the luxury of playing footsie with both east and west." He walked over to the wet bar to pour a glass of imported Georgian red wine. "Care for a drink?"

"Please, Comrade President." The president handed his defense minister a glass of vodka. The defense minister took a sip and spoke again. "Your point about Ukraine is valid. Their economic independence lets them play both sides of the fence. Just the opposite is true of Georgia."

"I do not follow you, " the president said.

"The Georgians, like so many other nations, are cash-strapped. Unlike Ukraine, they are totally dependent on outside resources to survive. That's where we have an opportunity with Georgia."

"Go on, " the president said.

"Our petroleum resources in Siberia, Comrade President, could change the entire economy of that tiny country. Perhaps we offer to open a pipeline."

The president pondered that. "But does that break this insatiable desire for all things Western that we have been fighting with in so many of our former republics?"

"I think it gives us an opportunity, yes."

"I hope you are right. But if we do not find this plutonium, it may not matter. Besides, I am bothered much by this NATO overflight request. Do you know what that means, Alexander Alexeyvich?" Vitaly Evtimov glared at his foreign minister as he swilled down vodka. "That means that we have United States warplanes buzzing the skies on our southern border!" The president drained his glass. "How would Mack Williams like it if we had armed MiG-29s buzzing along the Rio Grande River or making armed flights over Tijuana?"

The president's intercom sounded.

"Dah. What is it?"

The voice of the president's chief of staff, Sergey Semyonovich Sobyanin, boomed through the box. "Comrade President. The defense minister is here for you, sir. He knows that he is early, but he says that the matter is urgent."

The president exchanged glances with his foreign minister. "Very well. Send him in."