“Russian ballistic missile capability is a shadow of its former self,” he said. “Many of the weapons systems have not been maintained or upgraded since the late 1980s. Command and control has degraded, as have general communications system-wide. We believe that some silos are reduced to making telephone contact with Russian Strategic Command. Their missile defense and distant early warning systems are Cold War–era leftovers, and may be nonfunctional by any modern standard. However, the sheer size of the original Soviet arsenal is a matter of some concern. If even fifty percent of the original arsenal is still operational, and we believe it is, then it’s clear that an even, toe-to-toe nuclear exchange would be a disaster for both them and us.”

Keller shook his head. “And you would like to instigate a war with them, General?”

Stark’s face turned red. He raised a single finger. “The Russians are not going to risk a nuclear war over Iran and Syria.”

“Is that a fact, or is that your opinion?”

Stark’s eyes were on fire.

“Sir, if it comes to that, we can win a nuclear war against the Russians. My intelligence shows that a massive preemptive first strike on the Russian mainland, with simultaneous launches from our ballistic missile silos as well as our nuclear equipped submarines and destroyers, would overwhelm—”

“General, are you insane? Should we really risk a nuclear war just because you want to attack Iran? I remind you that the President’s daughter has been kidnapped. We should be sifting through intelligence data about her whereabouts, rather than—”

Stark’s voice rose almost to a shout. “Completely overwhelm their missile defense capabilities, resulting in the loss of more than ninety percent of their—”

Keller didn’t know what to say. He stood and pointed at the general again.

“Behold a pale horse!” he shouted, quoting the Book of Revelation. “And its rider’s name was Death, and Hades followed close behind! And the two were given dominion over the Earth, to kill by sword and famine and plague, and by the wild beasts.”

Stark stopped. He gaped at Keller.

“Did you just ask me if I was insane? Listen to what you’re saying.”

A man at the conference table stood. He was a tall man with wire-rimmed glasses. He wore a light blue dress shirt and khaki pants. A dark blue blazer was draped over his seat. A wire hung from his right ear, suggesting he was listening to information coming from somewhere else. He was clearly not military, but he was also dressed a little bit casually for normal government work. He had been sitting there quietly this entire time. His appearance was utterly nondescript. He was not a man who stood out or would be easily remembered. He could be anyone.