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off some money from the refit funding, God knows there’s been plenty of that in the past. But, given the nature of the modifications and the insanely truncated schedule, it’s not at all consistent with simple graft. My gut instinct says something is dreadfully wrong here.”
    Samant stopped, and nodded slightly. Then, straightening himself, he said, “What do you want me to do, Aleksey?”
    Relieved, Petrov moved closer. His speech was more animated. “Your office has two masters, one here in Vizag, the other in Mumbai. If you could make some discreet inquiries to the Directorate of Naval Design and the assistant chief of naval staff submarine acquisitions concerning new submarine torpedo tube launched weapons, I believe we’ll be able to either confirm or deny my suspicions. I will do likewise through the Russian naval support liaison office, although I’m not confident I’ll get much help.”
    “Very well, Aleksey. I will make the calls as soon as you leave. When should we try to get together again?”
    “Later this evening, at Akshaya’s, say twenty hundred hours. We’ve had dinner there before; so no one will think it unusual. And if I’m wrong, dinner is on me.”
    13 March 2017
    1030 EST
    The White House
    Washington, D.C.
----
    Joanna Patterson fought to control her excitement as she strode down the hallway to the Oval Office. She had pleaded with the president’s chief of staff, Milt Alvarez, for just ten minutes of the president’s time. That’s all she said she needed to pass on the results of the aerial sampling analysis; after that she’d have the president’s undivided attention. The single piece of paper in the folder she carried was a bombshell.
    She barely noticed the lone Marine standing guard, and she didn’t realize she had entered the outer office until the president’s secretary greeted her. “Go right on in, Dr. Patterson. The president is expecting you.”
    “Thanks, Evangeline. As my husband is fond of saying, stand by for heavy rolls.”
    “Are you going to ruin my president’s schedule—again, Doctor?” remarked McDowell with a smirk.
    “Very likely, ma’am … Sorry.”
    A Secret Service agent opened the door and Patterson walked in to find the president, Alvarez, and Secretary of State Andrew Lloyd watching the TV. Alvarez waved her over, pointed to the flat screen, and whispered, “The Indian ambassador to the UN is concluding his speech.”
    “Oh, lovely. I bet that’s going over well,” Joanna said with a wince. Alvarez’s pursed lips and the sharp shaking of his head confirmed her cynical prediction.
    “… our war with Pakistan is a righteous one as they attacked us again, without provocation. The Pakistani government’s denial that they had nothing to do with the terrorists that struck our naval bases last year is flimsy at best. Their policy of harboring terrorists, arming them, and protecting them from outside retribution clearly shows the Pakistani regime’s true intent. And while India chose to respond militarily this time, as is our right, we have scrupulously followed the rules of war as laid out in international conventions.
    “Mr. President, members of the General Assembly, let me be absolutely clear on this. India has not resorted to the use of nuclear weapons, nor do we need to. We have consistently upheld our part of the bargain during this cease-fire; the same cannot be said of Pakistan. The fact that the explosion was at a well-known Lashkar-e-Taiba stronghold can only suggest that the Pakistani government has lost its feeble grasp of reality and has begun to arm its homegrown terrorists with nuclear weapons…”
    “And it goes downhill from here,” sighed Myles as he turned off the TV.
    “Wow! I fully expected India to deny using a nuclear weapon,” Lloyd sneered. “But to accuse Pakistan of giving nukes to terrorists, that takes a lot of moxie!”
    “The ambassador certainly played the part well,” commented Alvarez. “He almost had