“Ma’am, the ARC system is designed to provide strategic warning of any nuclear-related preparations, which is as good as it gets for anticipating a nuclear attack,” Admiral Waller said. “In my view, I believe the ARC system has already detected aggressive changes in China’s nuclear posture that require us to restore strategic stability. We need to reduce the vulnerability of command and control systems that exists during peacetime operations by increasing the alert status. We also need to directly counter the threat posed by China’s submarines in the Northwest Passage by raising them to the surface. We’ll have a better understanding of Chinese intentions based on how they respond to these actions.”
Exactly what ARC recommends. Another true believer.
“One thing we haven’t done yet is reach out to Russia to see if they have any information on the two submarines,” Elizabeth said. “I’m sure they must be as curious as we are about their presence in the Northwest Passage.”
Susan shook her head. “No, let’s keep Russia out of this for now. I don’t want to have to decipher their agenda on top of everything else. Figuring out China’s endgame is complicated enough as it is.”
She inhaled a deep breath. In that moment, she recalled Blake’s grim comment about accidentally sliding into a nuclear conflict that neither the U.S. nor the Chinese wanted.
“Thank you all for your recommendations,” she said. “I need to think for a bit and will give you my answer—”
The door flung open, and Elise burst into the room. “Ma’am, there’s been another development. Fishermen near the coastal waters of the Philippines have flooded social media with posts in the last five minutes, claiming they’ve spotted UFOs in the South China Sea. They have posted images of flying objects with long, white tails of smoke in the sky. It looks like they could be submarine-launched missiles.”
Susan blanched.
Is this how it begins?
“That’s impossible,” Burke said. “Our satellites would have detected the infrared heat signatures immediately and relayed the signals through the ARC system to NORAD. Within less than a few minutes, we would have received an alert about the missile trajectories and estimated targets. Not to mention NORAD would have already informed us if the missiles posed a threat to targets in the United States or any of our space assets.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Elise said, shooting Burke an annoyed look. “So, I gave NORAD a call. They confirmed there are no indicators of missile launches coming from the ARC system. Our early warning satellites have not detected any bursts of infrared activity coming from the South China Sea.”
“Then these alleged missile launches must be another hoax gone viral, just like the deep fake videos of the massacre,” Burke said dismissively.
Grayson cleared his throat. “Madam President, I didn’t think to raise this before, but we did experience a minor communication issue with the Polaris satellite that resolved itself about an hour ago.”
Susan jerked her head toward Grayson in irritation. “You’re picking a fine time to bring this up. Do we know why we lost communication?” She rarely addressed him with harsh rebuke, but it felt necessary.
Grayson winced. “The satellite was offline for about forty-five minutes. We think the communication link broke as a result of a malfunction. After the satellite rebooted itself, it came back online and then restored its communication links. We’re still running diagnostics, but there were no signs of any cyber intrusion.”
“We’re certain no one hacked into Polaris?” Susan asked.
Grayson nodded. “We’ve detected no foreign signals from the ground and are ninety-nine percent certain there was no cyberattack.”
Susan rubbed her forehead, took a deep breath, and pressed on. “Let’s consider the one percent chance for a moment. What’s the worst-case scenario?”
Grayson sighed heavily. “Ma’am, you know I don’t like worst cases. They often tell—”
“Just humor me,” Susan said sternly. Her reserves of patience had nearly depleted. “Let’s say someone was able to hack our satellite. What’s the worst possible thing that could happen?”
“Ma’am, the worst-case scenario would be a hacker gaining control of Polaris’s software,” Grayson said. “The hacker could ensure the satellite would send us normal signals so that we wouldn’t know anything was wrong with it. Once the hacker had full control over the satellite, they would have several options, including making the satellite go completely dark.”
Susan pressed her lips together. “In other words, we would have no eyes in the northern latitudes. The hacker could prevent an alert from being sent by Polaris to the ARC system at NORAD.”
Grayson nodded. “Yes. The hacker could also exploit control over Polaris to gain access to the other satellites in our early warning system.”
“Are you saying they could control our entire early warning system?” Susan asked.
“In principle, yes… but it’s highly unlikely,” Grayson said.
“Madam President, why would anyone attempt such a feat?” Burke asked snidely. “Think of the resources involved. And what would the hacker gain from this expensive shenanigan?”
“Well, we wouldn’t be able to see an incoming nuclear attack,” Susan said, frowning.
Burke grimaced. “Only for a short time during the boost phase. So what? Our ground radars would detect and track the ballistic missiles as soon as they’re flying above the horizon. Why would someone go through the trouble of messing with our satellites? Especially when the risk of doing so could mean nuclear war?”
“There’s one possible reason,” David said. “If we lost our early warning satellites, we wouldn’t be able to detect the launch of hypersonic missiles either. And our radars wouldn’t be much use then. Ma’am, if someone went through the effort to shut down our entire satellite network, it would make the most sense to use hypersonic missiles in a surprise attack.”
“But the use of hypersonic missiles wouldn’t explain the failed detection of the launches from the South China Sea, assuming the images on social media aren’t fake,” Grayson said. “We only had a small problem with Polaris. The rest of the network is working fine.”
“If China really launched hypersonic missiles at any targets we care about, we would know by now,” Burke said grimly. “They would have reached their targets in just a few minutes.”
“It’s already been more than five minutes since the social media posts,” Elise said.
“And that’s assuming the fisherman posted them immediately after they snapped their images,” Burke said. “Ma’am, this is just another hoax.”
Susan nodded and turned to Grayson. “Find out who is behind these social media posts. Also, I want a full diagnostic report for Polaris as soon as possible.” Turning to face the room, she rose from her chair and said, “I’ll make my decision about next steps with China by the end of the day.”
Admiral Waller jumped out of his chair, nearly stumbling over his feet. “Madam President, if you have a moment.”
When she saw the anxious look on his face, Susan motioned for him to follow her.
46
Access Denied
MORGAN
1615
The Grind Cafe
Washington, D.C.
Morgan pressed her nose over the edge of her coffee mug, took in a strong whiff of her mocha-java brew, and exhaled slowly. It was all she could manage for now. With her stomach tied in knots, she couldn’t bring herself to take a sip. But it was probably better that way. She didn’t really need another spike of caffeine to go with her already frayed nerves. She’d only purchased the coffee to justify occupying a choice spot in the cafe.
Under the table, Morgan’s foot tapped a mile a minute as she deliberated on how to warn the president about the ARC system. From her window seat, she had a clear view of the Eisenhower Executive Office Building. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she could just teleport herself into her office.
Her opt
ions were becoming extremely limited. Both Luis and David weren’t responding to her texts. David was probably stuck in the same meeting as Luis in the Situation Room. She tried calling several of her other colleagues on the National Security Council staff, but no one picked up.
When everything else failed, she tried entering the building, only to be denied access by the same security guard who’d seen her leave and go for a walk earlier. Not only had he refused to succumb to her sweet talk, he’d confiscated her badge and reprimanded her for trying to get past security without the right credentials. Nearing her wits’ end, Morgan retreated to the cafe to regroup and sent an SOS call to her uncle. Maybe Jack could find another way to get through to President Tolley.
A shadow appeared above her table. Morgan jumped slightly and then looked up to see her uncle staring down at her, a deep frown on his angular, worn face. As usual, Jack looked well put-together. With a fortune to spend on clothes, it wasn’t all that hard. He wore a bespoke suit made from ultralight cashmere fabric. The dark gray color matched his thick, silver hair and goatee.
Despite the fancy threads and neat appearance, Jack looked rather disheveled. His bloodshot eyes darted back and forth. He took a seat across from her, without offering any greeting. Instead, he took a long sip of his drink and placed the cup on the table. The fresh scent of mint tea wafted toward Morgan, followed by a surprise—the fruity smell of rum.
I guess it’s almost five o’ clock.
She leaned forward to say something to him, but he held out his hand for her to keep silent. Jack glanced nervously over his shoulder and around the cafe as if he were looking for someone. Then he studied the sidewalk and street outside for a few minutes.
When he was finished inspecting their surroundings, he turned to her and breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I’ve managed to lose them for now.” He kept his voice low. “Do you have your phone on you?”
Morgan nodded.
“Turn it off,” Jack said.
“But I’m waiting for some important phone calls.”
“Turn it off,” Jack repeated, this time his voice gruff.
Morgan sighed, pressing the power button on her smartphone until the screen went black. Then she powered down her work phone. Looking up, she asked, “Who’s following you?”
Jack put his finger to his mouth and whispered, “The FBI? U.S. Secret Service? Probably both.”
“But why?”
He leaned in closer. “I’m being framed for the president’s assassination.”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Well, I was the only one with Harrison all day on that golf course, even though we were surrounded by Secret Service. Since I’m the only ‘outside’ person who had access to him, I’m the key person of interest. Secret Service has already questioned me three times. But it’s only a matter of time before they take me into custody. An old friend told me the evidence against me is mounting.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Morgan said. “If you could poison the president, so could each one of the Secret Service agents. How do they think Harrison overdosed on his malaria med?”
“The president drank a bottle of water from one of those refreshment carts pushed around by a pretty girl in a short skirt,” Jack said. “The water bottle was sealed, and Secret Service checked it before he drank. They think the lethal dose of chloroquine came from that bottle.”
“And they think you had something to do with that?” Morgan asked. “What about the girl with the cart? Are they looking into her?”
Jack nodded. “She disappeared into thin air. Apparently, she was a new cart girl, hired two weeks ago under a false name. Her prints and DNA aren’t in the FBI’s database, but they did find something interesting during the search. That’s why they came back around to interrogate me a few more times. They now suspect my involvement.”
Morgan raised her eyebrow. “I’m confused. Why would they suspect you of being involved if this girl took a job under a false name? She’s the one who operated the cart with the poisoned water. How did she know the president was golfing that day?”
“Well, it’s no secret that the president golfed at that course on a regular basis. Someone knew about the planned outing, but it wasn’t through me. And although the girl’s DNA wasn’t in the system, the DNA of someone to whom she’s closely related was…”
Morgan blinked at him several times. She wasn’t getting Jack’s hint and needed more information. “Whose DNA?” She leaned forward in anticipation, her hand clasping the coffee cup tightly.
“Your mother’s.”
The words thudded in her head like a heavy weight hitting the floor. Morgan’s mouth fell open, and she sat in stunned silence for a few moments as she put all the horrible details together. Then she gulped and stared wide-eyed at her uncle.
“Oh, it’s far worse than that. The DNA from your mother came from a hair sample. The girl shares mitochondrial DNA with your mother,” Jack said.
“What does that mean?” Morgan asked, her brow furrowed.
“That means that the golf cart girl was your sister. And—”
Morgan did a double take, and her mouth went slack. “I have a sister? And she’s working with my mother?” Her words sounded distant, and there was suddenly a high-pitched ringing in her ears.
“Apparently,” Jack said grimly. “Yet another thing Faye kept from us. Morgan, listen, this is important for you to understand. The FBI got the DNA test results back about an hour ago. This could explain why you’ve been shut out of the White House…”
Morgan sat up straighter, still reeling from the shock of finding out about her newfound sibling. “But why?”
“Your mitochondrial DNA would be identical to your sister’s,” Jack said. “But they will think it belongs to you. They’ll arrest you.”
It took several moments for the information to sink in. And when it did, Morgan’s stomach dropped. “That means the evidence in Harrison’s death… will point to me… I mean us… They’ll think we…”
Jack nodded glumly. “Your mother set us up. I’ve been doing some digging with the help of an old friend at the FBI. Apparently, your mother was in the country last week, traveling under the name of Maria Koslova on business for Nesti Oil and Natural Gas. She must have really been here to oversee the operation to remove Harrison and frame both of us in the process.”
Morgan’s hand flew to her chest as a sudden coldness hit at her core. Faye’s alias was familiar, but so was the name of the business. Then she remembered the strange coded messages received by the NSA. “That’s Igor Koslov’s company. You think Faye’s in bed with him?” Knowing her mother’s tendencies, she meant it both literally and figuratively.
Jack nodded again.
Morgan’s thoughts raced as she connected the dots between her mother, Anton Vega, Igor Koslov, Harrison’s assassination, and the disinformation campaign. If they had colluded to bring about the Nightfall Incident, then there was a Russian connection to that attack. Morgan concluded that the same players must also be involved in the disinformation campaign, the hacking, and the president’s assassination.
But why?
“Are they trying to catalyze a nuclear conflict between China and the United States?”
“Possibly,” Jack said.
“I don’t get it,” Morgan said, contemplating what possible endgame would require bringing two countries closer to nuclear war.
“It doesn’t make sense to me either,” Jack said. “Parts of Russia would experience severe destruction if nuclear war were to break out between the United States and China. I can’t imagine that Vladivostok in Russia’s Far East would survive the fallout. Plus, that’s where the Russian Pacific Fleet is located.”
“They must not understand the instability of the ARC system,” Morgan said, “because the stuff they’re doing to stir up trouble has the United States and China dangling precariously from a nuclear cliff.”
“It’s that bad?” Jack asked, his forehead cr
easing.
“Don’t get me started. Apparently, the ARC system has learned how to best protect itself and that plan doesn’t look good for humanity.” Morgan paused for a moment and then perked up. “Wait a minute…” She glanced at her uncle with a new energy and lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s all starting to add up now. The tweets were posted by Molotov in the Chinese city of Harbin, a few hundred miles away from Vladivostok. Intelligence analysts believe a hacker working for Molotov and Koslov produced the deep fake videos, making it look like the Chinese state police were engaging in a massacre. And while I was over at Liberty Crossing trying to get to the bottom of all of this, we lost communication with the Polaris satellite.”
Jack winced.
Morgan pressed her lips together. “The explanation for the brief outage didn’t sit well with me. The others were convinced no one hacked the satellite because there were no signals from the ground. But I kept thinking about the possibility that Anton might own a satellite in the same orbit and have people capable of hacking Polaris. If I’m right, all the other stuff is a distraction, convincing us to focus on China.”
Jack’s eyes lit up for a moment. “You’re definitely onto something. Before his death, Harrison and I were investigating Anton Vega’s assets to get a better sense of his involvement with Nightfall and to understand his ultimate endgame. Just last week, before the president’s death, we discovered that his company operates a satellite in highly elliptical orbit.”
Morgan’s mouth fell open as she absorbed the new information. Then she glared at her uncle. “But before, you acted like there was no connection between Anton Vega and the Russians. You told me my theories were complete speculation.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this before,” Jack said, rubbing his forehead. “I was afraid someone might overhear us when we talked on the phone.”
“But how did Anton get it into outer space without anyone knowing?” Morgan asked, forgetting her irritation.
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