“If this was an American experimental aircraft, I’d say there was no way in hell,” Neary told him forcefully. “But the Russians play by very different rules, especially when it comes to nukes. Hell, back during the Cuban Missile Crisis, it turns out they deployed tactical nuclear weapons that some Cuban or Soviet general could have used against our troops if we ever invaded the island—even without an explicit okay from the Kremlin. So this guy’s claim that they were trying to compress their flight test program by loading armed missiles as part of a war game isn’t that far-fetched.”

Taylor sighed. “Which makes Ms. Reynolds right. In the circumstances, a large-scale air search effort would be too risky. We wouldn’t gain anything by provoking Colonel Petrov to destroy his aircraft, especially if it does carry nuclear weapons.”

From the far end of the table, Rear Admiral Kristin Chao spoke up. “We do have one possible indication of the Russian stealth bomber’s whereabouts,” the head of the Pentagon’s operations directorate reminded them. “Our North Warning System radar station at Barter Island picked up an unidentified contact last night. At least for a few seconds, anyway. This bogey might have been the PAK-DA bomber entering our airspace.”

“Or just as likely an equipment glitch or some kind of weird weather phenomenon,” Neary argued. “The whole Arctic region’s getting hammered by snow and ice storms right now.”

“Yes, sir,” the admiral agreed calmly. “But it’s at least a data point.”

“One that doesn’t get us much further,” the Air Force chief of staff retorted. “The North Warning System radar network creates a relatively thin air surveillance zone along the northern frontier of both Alaska and Canada. Once the perimeter is penetrated, we have almost no ability to track an unidentified aircraft flying deeper into the North American interior, especially if it’s coming in low or has stealth features.”

Chao looked unmoved. “At the very least, it suggests Colonel Petrov has chosen to conceal the bomber in territory we control, rather than inside his own country’s borders. That could provide us with a useful clue to his ultimate goals.”

“For God’s sake, Kristin,” Neary snapped, “I don’t see how you can possibly draw that conclusion—”

“Hold on there, you two,” Taylor interrupted, jumping in to tamp down what was threatening to become an open argument between the two high-ranking military officers. “You can’t fight in here. This is the War Room.”

For a moment, both the general and the admiral stared at him in astonishment. But then, almost unwillingly, they grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that, Mr. Secretary,” Neary told him. Chao nodded her own mute apology.

“Don’t sweat it,” Taylor said mildly. “I don’t imagine anyone here got much sleep last night, so it’s no surprise if tempers are a little frayed.” He looked carefully around the table. “Which is why, right now, I’d like to focus our limited energies on the biggest question we face.”

“Which is: do we pay Petrov to get our hands on the PAK-DA prototype?” Miranda Reynolds said quietly.