T2 Pessimistic: Tactical Nuke
“Are we ever going to bug outta here?” Thibido asked wearily. The two men stood next to each other on a serving line in a makeshift kitchen. Thibido was ladling out bowls of stew while Craigen dished out spoonfuls of vegetables.
“HQ seems to think that Putin will keep fighting even if that means escalating the war." Craigen concentrated on not spilling the contents of his spoon, and he made sure to look the elderly man he was serving in the eye and give him a warm smile. "So we're going to wrap up here and start packing up. I don't like it, but they've got enough volunteers here now to handle everything without us."
“I know you don't like it, Rattle,” all Thibido could manage was a sympathetic nod between serving trays. "I don't like it either. None of us do. But it's just plumb wrong to use our team for this purpose.” He waived around the kitchen serving line. Mercifully, there was no longer anyone waiting in the serving line. “Our donors put up good money to send us here to deliver and build shelters. We all know it’s time to go. That’s it.”
Craigen’s stretched for a moment to ease the ache in his back. “There hasn’t been any letup in the number of people coming through this checkpoint, that’s for sure. But I’m worried about how the others are going to take the news, especially Curly.”
“Aw, she’ll understand." Thibido picked up the now-empty pot and brought it to the sink to wash. "We done what we came to do. We don’t mind if this ain’t glamorous work. We jus’ as good at building shelters, evacuating wounded, or serving the hungry. But we’re a Response Team! We get in first and do the initial assessments; that's our specialty.
“I'll let them know at the Cluster meeting tonight that PIRA is pulling out.” Craigen stripped off his plastic serving gloves and discarded them into a nearby trash can, “You get the team together and meet me in my tent afterward, and we'll start planning to redeploy back to home station.”
Despite his size, Craigen could move fast when he wanted to. Right now, he sprinted down the muddy street that led from the Cluster meeting to the tents where his team had set up. With laboring breath, he navigated his way through the thronging crowds of relief workers and refugees who were clustering into tight, silent groups. After the seemingly endless hustle and bustle of activity that defined the refugee station, the stark contrast of stillness and quiet struck Craigen as surreal.
He burst into his tent door to find that Thibido had already gathered the team. “Get someone on the internet,” he panted. “You’ve got to see this!”
“Already on it, Rattle.” Bolanger was holding her notepad out far enough that the other team members could crowd around her to see the feed. She had the volume turned up to maximum. “Breaking news. Tonight CNN can confirm that there has been a nuclear detonation over the ocean outside the city of Mariupol.”
“Oh my God!” Gasped Kedzierski.
Thibido added, “That idiot’s gone and done it!”
“Hush Scooter, let me hear the rest.” Craigen elbowed his way closer.
“Analysts suspect the Russians employed the Iskander-M missile,” the newscaster was a famous personality, but Craigen couldn’t remember which one. She looked unnaturally well-dressed and relaxed, considering the gravity of the news she was delivering. "Considered the centerpiece of the Russian nuclear arsenal of smaller tactical nuclear devices, these missiles are fired from mobile launchers and have a range of approximately 300 miles. Estimates are that the smallest explosive yield is approximately one-third that of the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima, Japan, during WWII.”
They sat for what seemed like hours, surfing through different stations to learn as many details as they could get. It seemed like it was the only news story anyone was reporting on. “What does this mean for us?” Kedzierski finally asked.
Craigen pulled away from the news feeds. He felt like a drowning man coming up for air. It took him a moment to re-focus and answer Kedzierski’s question. “They told us at the Cluster meeting that all flights in and out of Chişinău International Airport have been temporarily suspended.”
“What do they mean 'temporarily,' Rattle?” Thibido asked suspiciously.
“It means we’re staying put until further notice, Scooter.” Craigen knew they were looking to him for leadership and courage right now. He wasn’t sure he had it in him. Well, fake it ‘till you make it, he thought grimly. “Curly, take your apprentice and go inventory our equipment. What I need is a list of bare essentials to take with us in case we get a chance to evacuate. There’s going to be a lot of folks looking for rides out of here tonight.” He tuned to Bolanger, “Dee, Scooter, I need both your duets to go over and start consolidating our travel packs in one place, ready to grab and go. I’ll head to the Cluster and see if I can get us a ride with anyone heading back to Chişinău.”
Craigen was operating on automatic pilot. I can’t believe this is real, a nuclear attack! He checked to make sure his phone was still working. “We meet back here at this tent unless I call you and tell you I’ve got another ride… I’ve got to call HQ.”
“Travis, wait.” Kedzierski used his first name to get his attention. It worked. Her hand was on his arm.
Craigen's expression was troubled, jaw muscles twitching, stress lines creasing his face, eyebrows knit together in concentration.
“We should check in first.” She meant, check in with Jesus.
Craigen grunted. “C’mon, pull it in everyone.” All seven members of the PIRA choir joined hands in a tight circle. It was a momentary soap bubble of silence and peace amidst the hustle of relief workers rushing past their tents. What can I possibly say now?
"Heavenly father…" Craigen's voice trailed off. He hesitated, then found courage and began again. "Heavenly Father, we're in trouble. We need your help, and we can't do this without you. I don't understand how you can look upon the foolish decisions we make down here, but we beg your forgiveness as we pray for the souls of those lives that have been taken by this terrible war. For all those that have suffered, especially the children. Please have mercy on my team, Father, and just help us make it back home safely. We ask all this in Jesus' name. Amen."
“Amen.” The group intoned, and then split up to tackle their assignments.
“Could you explain that again to me, Dee?” Craigen wore a pained expression, the worry he felt graven into the already deep lines of his weathered face. “How is this not World War III?”
"The Russians have a doctrine of 'escalate to de-escalate,' which means they are likely waiting for their opponents to back down first." Bolanger handed out some blankets to her team members to shield them from the damp cold night. All seven members of the PIRA choir were gathered in Craigen’s tent. It had taken them little time to prepare their gear to leave, even on such short notice. Now, as they huddled around a small table, they had a chance to discuss the day’s events.
“Not since Hiroshima and Nagasaki have atomic weapons been used in war,” Kedzierski sat on the edge of the narrow bed, rummaging aimlessly in her shower kit for something she needed. She dropped her hands down in her lap in exasperation. “I can’t stop thinking about it. They’re going to start shooting ICBMs at each other. The whole world will be destroyed. It’s the end of days.”
“Not necessarily,” Bolanger tread carefully, because she’d come to respect the depth of Kedzierski’s religious beliefs, even if she didn’t share them. “What remains to be seen is NATO’s response. The reports I'm seeing say that Putin detonated the warhead over the ocean, near the city of Mariupol, which lies on the north coast of the Sea of Azov. The fact that he didn't hit a densely populated area like Kyiv leads me to believe Putin wants to send a message. He’s serious, but he doesn’t really want WWIII.”
“Looky-here Dee," Thibido was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, knees drawn up, and resting his head on his folded arms. He wore a mask of concern. Worry etched deep lines into a face more accustomed to displaying his easy grin, rather than the terror he seemed to be confronting now. "You're too young to remember. In fact, I think except for Curly, and maybe Rattle, you're all too young to remember the way it used to be. We all grew up during the Cold War. Back then, everybody figured that some idiot would touch off the big one, and that would be that. The end of all life on earth. Now it's gone and happened, and I'm just waiting. He blew out a long slow breath to calm his nerves, "Waiting for the whole world to burn up."
Craigen tried to change the subject, but everything in the world seemed to revolve around the nuclear attack. “Did you say it was over the ocean, not on the city of Mariupol? Are you sure?”
“I can’t be sure about anything,” Bolanger confessed. “The news services are full of wild rumors, and a lot of the internet sites are spotty, at best.”
“I can’t get through on the sat phone either.” Craigen gestured dismissively at the device that lay next to his bedroll. “I think they shut down the satellite service.”
Bolanger nodded, “I know for sure that the US has gone to DEFCON 2, and some sites are even saying DEFCON 1. They probably have cut satellite connection as part of the protocol.”
“What’s DEFCON 1?” Kedzierski asked.
Bolanger pursed her lips and looked out of the corner of her eye in Kedzierski’s direction. “Um… it’s basically a cocked pistol, maximum readiness, with a potentially immediate response.”
Kedzierski dropped her head to her chest and raised her hands to the sky, “The seal has been opened. Come Abba! We await your Parousia.” Tears streamed down her face as she was overcome with emotion.
Craigen moved to take a seat beside her and put an arm across her shoulders. “Amen.”
Kedzierski turned to him and buried her face in his chest. "I just want you all to know how much I love each and every one of you," she sobbed.
Craigen folded her into his arms. “We love you too, Curly. We love you too.”
Kedzierski settled down after a few minutes. She straightened up and wiped away tears, making an effort to brush back her unruly hair. “I’m sorry. I’m OK now. It’s just been a long day.”
The sat phone rang.
Craigen scrambled to get back to it. "Chief! We've been trying to get a hold of you. What's going on?"
“The President’s strategy to flood the world markets with cheap oil backfired.” The PIRA Operations Officer brought Craigen up to date. "Putin said he'd use nukes if he felt that there was an existential threat to Russia, and he followed through on that promise.”
“Even after everything we’ve seen,” Craigen was aghast, “I still can’t believe that Putin doesn’t care about what he’s done to the world.”
“Well, he’s going to care now, Rattle.”
“Why?”
“Because China’s come out against him …hard.”
Craigen knew that the way the Operations Officer emphasized the word indicated a major development. So he switched open the speaker on the phone so the whole team could hear it.
“China’s stopped all economic activity with Russia, including oil and gas purchases as well as access to all capital markets until all Russian forces withdraw from Ukraine.”
“So the war’s over?” Craigen asked hopefully.
“No, it’s not that straightforward, unfortunately.” The Operations Officer explained, "The nuclear detonation caused the few Ukrainian forces defending Mariupol to surrender immediately. The Russians now have complete control over what remains of that city."
“We’d heard they’d bombed it nearly to rubble already.”
“You heard right, Rattle.” The Operations Officer agreed, "But what came next was worse. Putin began making incendiary comments about how he would do the same thing to Kharkiv, and then to Kyiv, if the US didn’t immediately reduce oil and natural gas outputs. Then he called for the immediate surrender of all Ukrainian forces.” There was a pause as the Operations Officer took a deep breath and then released it in a long sigh. “Words can’t begin to describe how frightened we’ve all been. Zelenskyy’s government agreed to make concessions, and they’re still at the negotiating table with the Russians right now.”
Craigen shook his head, “What do they hope to gain now that the Chinese have come out against them? I thought they were demanding that the Russians leave Ukraine immediately?”
“They did demand that, but Putin’s just not leaving!” The Operations Officer sounded exasperated, “He got our President to shut down the energy shipments, but Putin would probably have taken over the whole country if the Chinese hadn't stepped in. As it stands, we think he's trying to at least carve out the eastern sections of Ukraine so he can claim that his war was not a complete failure. The whole thing's a catastrophe."
Craigen nodded and looked around the tent to see if his team had any further questions. They seemed satisfied by the explanation, so he redirected the conversation towards more immediate concerns. “Chief, we’re hearing that the airport at Chişinău is closed. What’s the plan to get us back home?”
“The European airports are just beginning to open back up to civilian travel. So you’re going to be stuck in Palanca for at least a couple more days. Can you get transportation back to Chişinău?”
“Everybody’s going nuts around here,” Craigen explained. “But sooner or later I should be able to swing us a ride, no problem. With all the activity going on here with the refugees, maybe we’ll find some way to make ourselves useful while we wait.”
“I advise against that, Rattle.” The Operations Officer cautioned. "Just lay low and try not to let anyone know you're Americans."
This brought Craigen straight upright, “Why?”
“America's got a big black eye from this debacle." There was some static on the line. “Look, Rattle, I'm losing my signal, but everyone's blaming the US for this mess. First, for doing nothing to prevent the run-up to the war, then beating the drum to intervene, and finally by calling Putin’s bluff and losing. Nobody trusts us anymore. Just lay low and get out of there as soon…”
The line went dead.
“Well, at least it ain’t WWIII.” Thibido quipped nervously, but nobody laughed.
You are the Chief of the PIRA Operations Center. You make the call:
Choose Option 1: Your team is being forced to evacuate. Your humanitarian relief mission is a failure. A new world order is emerging where the United States will no longer serve in the leadership role. Choose this option if you wish to return to the start point and explore other possible outcomes.
Choose Option 2: Your team is being forced to evacuate. Your humanitarian relief mission is a failure. A new world order is emerging where the United States will no longer serve in the leadership role. Choose this option if you wish to cut your losses and end this exercise in Directed Fiction and continue to the solutions page to learn more about how these scenarios were developed.