"Zero. This is as sudden as anything I've ever seen."

"Yet when everything's in place," Herbert said, "they'll be ready for something big… like a move into the Ukraine."

"Correct."

"Yet the Ukrainians are doing nothing," Herbert said.

"They may not know anything's up," Quirk said.

"Or they may not he taking it seriously," Herbert said. "NRO photos show that they've got reconnaissance personnel close to the border-- but not deep reconnaissance companies. Obviously, they don't expect to have to operate from behind enemy lines." Herbert drummed his leather armrests. "How soon before the Russians are ready to move?"

"They'll be in position by tonight," Quirk said. "By aircraft, it's just a short hop to Belgorod."

"And there's no chance that these are bogeys?" Herbert asked.

Quirk shook his head. "These communications are real, all right. The Russians use a combination of Latin and Cyrillic characters when they want to confuse us. The letters shared by the alphabets are supposed to throw us off because it's tough to know which alphabet they mean." He patted the computer. "But Uther manages to sniff them out."

Herbert squeezed Quirk's shoulder. "Good work. Let me know if you pick up anything else."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Monday, 9:30 P.M., St. Petersburg

"Sir," said red-cheeked Yuri Marev, "the radio room says they've received a coded communication via Pacific Fleet headquarters in Vladivostok. It's from the plane you've had me follow on the Hawk satellite."

General Orlov stopped his slow pacing behind the computer bank and walked to the young man, who was seated at the far left of the bank.

"Are you certain?" Orlov asked.

"There's no doubt, sir. It's the Gulfstream."

Orlov glanced at the clock on the computer screen. The plane wasn't due to land for another half hour, and he knew that region well: if anything, at this time of year the winds would work against them and the plane would be late.

"Tell Zilash I'm coming," Orlov said, walking quickly to the door that opened into the corridor. He entered that day's code on the keypad beside a door across the hall, then went into the cramped, smoke-filled radio room which was located next to Glinka's security operations center.

Arkady Zilash and his two assistants were sitting in a tiny room filled to the ceiling with radio equipment. Orlov couldn't even open the door completely, since one of the assistants was using a unit tucked behind it. The men were all wearing headsets, and Zilash didn't see Orlov until the General tapped him on the left earphone.

Startled, the gaunt radio chief removed his headset and stuck his cigarette in an ashtray.

"I'm sorry, sir," Zilash said in his low, raspy voice.