“You speak as if we have a choice. The president is coming here under cover. Even his most trusted advisors, believe he’s sick with the flu in the White House. He is coming to the dam opening to make a statement and nothing we can do can stop him. He’s been made aware of the danger and he’s coming anyway.”

Middleton could feel the heart racing in his chest. “In the face of a threat to his life. Those explosives . . . ”

“Cannot destroy the dam. We know that now. Remember, we’re not even sure Archer’s there.”

“Then we’re missing something. We’ve been missing it all along.” Middleton thought for a moment. “Sikari’s son couldn’t have anticipated his presence here either.”

“Now what is your point?”

“Everything, all Sikari’s plans, would’ve been based on the secretary of state. Less security. A different upshot to their plans.”

“I don’t follow, comrade.”

“Zang said it for both of you: chaos. That’s what this is about from Archer’s standpoint. To set the world on the road to a nuclear confrontation between India and Pakistan. You know what that would mean.”

“I’ve read the same studies you have,” Chernayev said, joining Middleton on his feet. “The complete collapse of the world economy. A decade or more of deep depression. And that’s just for starters.”

“A possible but unlikely scenario before. Now, with the president . . . ”

“Likely, if not inevitable.”

“Exactly,” said Middleton. “Pakistani militants will be blamed for the attack. The United States’ response will be . . . God, I can’t even find the word.”

“The vision suffices. Pakistan’s retaliation aimed at India because it’s all they have. Destroy our proxy.”

“Nuclear war,” said Middleton. “A world of chaos.”

“Not if we can stop it,” Chernayev told him.

Keeping up the ruse, Tesla wheeled Charley through Srinagar Airport. The airport, and the city known as the summer capital of Jammu and Kashmir, was located in the heart of the Kashmir Valley a mile above sea level. Tesla knew the inland and low-lying waterways made it the ideal site for the Baglihar dam.

As a smaller airport, this facility offered light security, even token. But the grounds both inside the terminal and out on the tarmac itself were teeming with Indian soldiers and district police.

“What’s going on?” Charley asked, still slumped in her chair to avoid detection.

“Look.” Tesla pointed to a large sign that welcomed visitors to the opening ceremonies of the dam. Then she gasped, “Charley.” She grabbed the younger woman’s arm.

At the bottom of the sign was some information about the dam—size, electrical output and factoids, one of which was that the people displaced by the construction and flooding had been relocated to a beautiful, new town nearby. It was affectionately called “The Village.”