“The same goes double for the RCAF,” Gowan agreed. “Our CF-18 Hornets are more than forty years old now. Just to keep enough aircraft flight-ready at our four remote operating locations, we’re constantly having to rotate fighters and pilots forward from our main bases at Cold Lake in Alberta and Bagotville in Quebec.” His eyes darkened. “The situation simply isn’t sustainable, at least not if the Russians continue probing our perimeter this way for much longer.”

Taylor nodded somberly. “I get that, General Gowan.” He looked up at the two faces on-screen. “What I need now from both of you is an assessment of Moscow’s possible reasons for this sudden surge of air reconnaissance activity along our borders.”

“Look, I don’t have a crystal ball to read that asshole Zhdanov’s mind,” Makowski replied. “But I can tell you what Pete and I are most worried about.”

Taylor nodded. “Go on, General.”

“We’re worried that Russians could be wearing our defenses down deliberately,” Makowski said. “That they’re using provocative measures just short of open hostilities to test our air defense system—and find its breaking point.” He looked grim. “When you put that possibility together with the fact that the whole fricking Russian strategic bomber and fighter force has gone on high alert, well, it paints a real ugly picture.”

Murphy lowered his own gaze to hide his expression. The CIA-provided intelligence which suggested that the Russian patrol aircraft were only searching for their own stolen stealth bomber prototype was tightly restricted, as was the video of Petrov supposedly offering to sell the PAK-DA to the United States. And as it was, neither Makowski nor Gowan were in that loop. He wondered how a fuller understanding of the possible situation might change their views. Then again, he thought with an inner shrug, maybe it wouldn’t matter to them. Several of those who were already cleared to know about Petrov’s claimed defection, including General Neary, the Air Force chief of staff, were inclined to think the whole story was nothing more than classic Russian disinformation, part of a typical maskirovka operation to mislead Moscow’s adversaries about its true plans and intentions.

“We’re drawing up plans now to reinforce you with fighter squadrons and more tankers from other bases in the continental United States,” Taylor assured the two NORAD commanders.

Makowski nodded. “We appreciate that, Mr. Secretary. And we can sure use every new plane you send our way.” He spread his hands. “But no matter how much you expedite those reinforcements, it’s still going to take several days to move the aircraft, the equipment, spare parts, and munitions required to support them, and their personnel to where we need them. And even then, we’ll have to run the arriving pilots and ground crews through some intensive refresher training before they can be assigned to intercept missions. Flying safely in the kind of severe weather conditions our guys are facing right now isn’t easy.”

“I imagine not,” Taylor said quietly. He sighed. “All right, gentlemen, all we can ask is that your pilots continue to hold the line for now—at least until the additional squadrons we’re deploying are ready to relieve them.”