correct the deviation from its prescribed flight plan by shifting the
engine thrust. But at the low speed of takeoff, the initial command
was diluted so the engine position was tweaked again to its maximum
adjustment. As the launch vehicle gained speed, the adjustment quickly
became an over correction and the rocket's computers gimbaled the
engine in the opposite direction to counterbalance the movement. Under
normal conditions, the rocket might have been able to stabilize itself
with a few minor adjustments. But on this flight, the Zenit's fuel
tanks were only half full. The partially empty fuel tanks allowed the
liquid propellant to slosh back and forth during the thrust
inclinations, creating a whole new set of balancing dynamics. The
overtaxed stabilization control system tried vainly to smooth the
flight but, ultimately, exacerbated the situation and the rocket began
to waffle.
On video screens and satellite feeds, out an airship cockpit window,
and from a barren rocky island in the Pacific Ocean, a thousand eyes
stared transfixed at the streaming white rocket as it began a slow and
morbid gyration across the sky. What started as a slight wobble at
liftoff grew into a continuous waggle during ascent until the entire
rocket was shaking uncontrollably toward the clouds like an anorexic
belly dancer. Had Sea Launch been managing the flight, an automated
safety control would have detonated the rocket as it veered out of
parameter. But the abort command had been deleted from the flight
software by Kang's crew and the Zenit was left to struggle upward in a
tortuous dance of death.
To the unbelieving sight of those who watched, the huge rocket swung
wildly in the sky before tearing itself apart from the inside out and
literally snapping in two. The lower Stage immediately disintegrated
in a massive fireball as the fuel tanks were simultaneously ignited,
swallowing everything in its radius with a cauldron of flame. Chunks
and pieces of rocket machinery not dissolved by the explosion rained
down over a swath of empty sea, while the high-altitude
mushroom cloud from the explosion hung in the blue sky as if painted
there.
The nose cone and upper stage of the Zenit oddly sailed free of the
carnage and continued speeding across the sky like a streaking bullet,
fueled only by momentum. In a graceful parabolic arc, the
smoke-trailed payload gradually lost energy and nosed down toward the
Pacific, smacking the surface with a watery geyser of debris miles
downrange from the initial explosion. As the sudden sound of silence
drifted over the water, the stunned observers stared miraculously at
the white rainbow of smoke that trailed the death flight and arched
quietly from horizon to horizon.
ON A rocky beach of Santa Barbara Island, an elephant seal awoke from a
leisurely nap and cocked an ear toward the inland. The odd sound of
cheering wafted down the hillside from thirty or so men congregated on
a small bluff. The seal looked quizzically up at the disheveled group
of men, then stretched back out and resumed his nap.
For the first time in their lives, the Sea Launch platform crew of
technicians and engineers were happy to witness a launch failure. Men
cheered and whistled while others poked their fists in the air in
celebratory victory. As the launch vehicle blew up above their heads,
even Christiano grinned a sigh of relief as Platform Launch Manager
Ohlrogge slapped him on the back.
"Somebody was smiling down on us for once," Ohlrogge said.
"Thank God. Whatever those bastards were trying to launch could not
have been good."
"One of my flight engineers noted a roll oscillation right from launch.
Must have been a nozzle adjustment malfunction, or a stabilization
issue with the platform."
Christiano thought of Pitt and his comment before departing the
Odyssey. "Maybe that fellow from NUMA worked some magic."
"If so, we owe him big."
"Yes, and somebody owes me, too," Christiano replied.
Ohlrogge looked at the captain quizzically.
"That was a ninety-million-dollar launch vehicle that just went up in
flames. There will be hell to pay when we pass that bill to the
insurer," the captain said, finally letting loose a laugh.
Kang flinched as he watched the satellite feed of the Zenit
disintegrate before his eyes. As the camera caught pieces of falling
debris, he silently reached for the remote control and turned off the
monitor.
"Though the strike has failed, the specter of the attack will still
represent a serious provocation to the American public," Kwan assured
his boss. "Anger will be high and the fallout against Japan
significant."
"Yes, our staged media security leaks should ensure that," Kang said,
suppressing his anger at the failure. "But the disappearance of the
Koguryo and launch team remains at hand. Their capture would corrupt
much of our hard work to date."
"Tongju will fulfill his duties. He always has," Kwan replied.
Kang stared at the darkened television monitor for a moment, then
slowly nodded.
The mood in the Koguryo launch control center quickly turned from joy
to shock to sullen disappointment. In an instant, the mission
requirements of the launch team fell away and the assembled technicians
and engineers sat silently at their computer stations, staring at the
displays that no longer provided any launch data. No one seemed to
know what to do next and whispered quietly with one another.
Tongju threw a long, frigid glare toward Ling, then left the control
center without saying a word. As he made his way toward the bridge, he
called Kim on a portable radio and spoke briefly in a low voice. On
the bridge, he found Captain Lee staring out the starboard bridge
window at the smoke-trailed rain of debris that scarred the blue sky
with white strips of vapor.
"She shook herself apart," he said with wonder, then looked into the
blank eyes of Tongju.
"A problem with the platform," Tongju replied. "We must evacuate the
area immediately. Can we get moving at once?"
"We are standing by for departure. We just need to hoist in the
tender, then we can be under way."
"There is no time," he hissed suddenly. "The American Coast Guard and
Navy may already be looking for us. Proceed under full power at once,
and I will personally cut the tender loose."
Lee looked at Tongju warily, then nodded.
"As you wish. Our course is already laid in. We shall make for
Mexican waters, then divert under cover of darkness for the rendezvous
position."
Tongju took a step to exit the bridge, then stopped suddenly. Out of
the forward window, he gazed at the smoke-enshrouded Sea Launch
platform. Approaching the platform from the northwest was the silver
blimp, now cruising several hundred feet above the water. Tongju waved
an arm in the direction of the Icarus.
"Alert your surface-to-air missile team. Take out that airship
im
mediately," he spat, then vanished out the door.
As the Roguryo's twin four-bladed propellers began churning the water
beneath the ship's hull, Tongju hustled his way back to the
portable stairwell that ran down the vessel's port flank. At the base
of the stairwell bobbed the white tender, a mooring line tied across to
the railing. He noted bubbles of smoke rising from the boat's stern,
alerting him that the engine was running at idle. Quickly untying the
line, he coiled it in his hand and waited until the next passing wave
pushed the tender up against the side of the ship. With barely a step,
he hopped aboard the bow of the boat and shuffled toward the cabin,
tossing the coiled line into an empty bucket on deck. Inside the
cabin, he found Kim and two of his commandos standing beside the wheel.
"Everything aboard?" Tongju asked.
Kim nodded. "During the excitement of the launch, we moved our arms
and provisions on board, and even hoisted extra fuel aboard, without
any interference." Kim tilted his head toward the rear open deck where
four fifty-five-gallon drums of gasoline were tied off against the
gunwale.
"Let us drift off the stern for a moment, then we shall make our run to
Ensenada. When will the charges detonate?" Kim glanced at his watch.
"In twenty-five minutes." "Plenty of time for the missile crew to
destroy the airship." The Koguryo quickly churned away from the small
boat as the tender continued to idle in the low swells. When the
former cable ship had cleared a quarter mile of open water, Kim moved
the throttles to slow and crept forward with the bow pointed southeast.
In no time, he figured, they would look like another ordinary fishing
charter heading home to San Diego.
Long after the Zenit had climbed into the sky and detonated, a thick
cloud of white smoke still hung over the Odyssey like a fog bank Ever
so gently, the light sea breeze began poking holes through the exhaust,
revealing sporadic patches of the launch platform through the haze.
"Looks like a bowl of clam chowder down there," Giordino said as he
banked the Icarus over the platform. While Giordino and Dahlgren
visually surveyed the platform for any signs of Pitt, Dirk activated
the LASH system and scanned for optical anomalies that might signify a
human being.
"Don't quote me but I think that baby is sinking," Dahlgren said as
they glided around the aft end of the platform and could make out an
exposed section down to the water. The men in the gondola could
clearly see that the aft support columns appeared shorter than the bow
columns.
a "She's definitely taking on water in the stern," Dirk replied...
"Wonder if that's the handiwork of your old man? He may have just
cost somebody a new rocket," Giordino said. "And maybe a new
launchpad," Dahlgren added.
"But where is he?" Dirk asked aloud. They could all detect that there
was no apparent sign of life on the platform.
"The smoke is starting to clear. Once the helipad opens up, I'll take
us in for a closer look," Giordino replied.
As they drifted back toward the bow of the platform, Dahlgren looked
down and grimaced.
"Damn. The Badger's gone, too. Must have sank during the launch."
The threesome fell quiet, reflecting that the disappearance of the
submersible was the least of their losses.
Three miles to the south, a gunnery crewman on the Koguryo was
transferring the radar-derived coordinates of the blimp into a Chinese
CSA-4 surface-to-air missile guidance system. The slow-moving airship
was as easy an objective as the gunnery crew could ever hope to target.
With such a large object at close range, the odds of failing to strike
the blimp were nearly zero.
In an enclosed room adjacent to the dual missile canister, a weapons
control expert stood at a console transferring the firing guidance
through a missile command link. A row of green lights flashed at him
as the engagement radar embedded in the missile acknowledged a tar-get
lock. The man immediately picked up a telephone receiver that ran
directly to the bridge.
"Target acquired and missile armed," he said in monotone to Captain
Lee. "Awaiting orders to fire."
Lee looked out a bridge side window toward the blimp hovering over the
platform in the distance. The high-powered missile exploding into the
airship would make for a spectacular display, he thought childishly.
Perhaps they should also destroy the distant turquoise vessel that
lingered on the edge of their radar screen and then make a clean
escape. But, first things first. He moved the receiver to his mouth
to issue the command to fire when suddenly his lips froze. His eyes
had detected a small pair of dark objects emerging from behind the
airship. He stood frozen and watched as the objects quickly
materialized into a pair of low-flying aircraft.
The F-16D Falcon fighter jets had been scrambled from an Air National
Guard base in Fresno minutes after a NORAD satellite had detected the
launch of the Zenit rocket. While flying toward the launch site, the
pilots were directed to the Koguryo with the help of the Coast Guard
distress call that had originated from the Deep Endeavor. The sleek
gray jets flew low above the water and burst over the Koguryo just a
few hundred feet above her fore bridge The crackling roar of the jets'
engines struck a second after their shadows had whisked by overhead,
rattling the windows of the bridge where Lee stood with a sickened look
on his face.
"Stand down! Stand down and secure the battery!" he barked over the
phone. As the SAM was stowed away, Lee watched as the two fighter jets
gained altitude and began crisply circling the fast-moving ship.
"You!" he cursed at a crewman standing nearby. "Find Tongju and bring
him to the bridge ... at once."
The men in the blimp beamed in relief at the sight of the Air National
Guard jets circling above the Koguryo, having no idea how close they
were to being blasted out of the sky by the ship's SAM battery. They
knew that a horde of Navy ships was on the way and that there was
little chance the ship would escape apprehension now. They again
turned their attention to the smoke-covered platform below.
"The haze is lifting off the helipad," Giordino observed. "I'll set
her down if you boys want to jump off and take a look around."
"Absolutely," Dirk replied. "Jack, we can start with the bridge, then
move down to the hangar if the air is breathable."
"I'd start with the ship's lounge," Giordino said, trying to cut the
somber mood. "If he's okay, my money says he's mixing a martini and
eating up the ship's store of pretzels."
Giordino swung the blimp wide of the platform, bringing the airship
around with its nose into the wind. As he lined upon the helipad and
began dropping altitude, Dahlgren stuck his head back into the cockpit
and pointed out the side window.
"Take a look over there," he said.
Several hundred feet off the side of the platform, a sudden surge of
bubbles erupted from beneath the surface. A few seconds later, a
mottled gray metallic object broke the surface.
"Launch debris?" Dahlgren asked.
"No, it's the Badger^" Giordino exclaimed.
Guiding the airship toward the object, the three men could see that it
was in fact the NUMA submersible bobbing low in the water. The
underwater vehicle's bright metallic paintwork had been cooked off in
the launch blast, leaving its skin a dappled mix of primer and bare
metal. The bow section was bent and mangled, as if it had been
involved in a head-on traffic accident. How the thing still managed to
float was anybody's guess, but there was no denying it was
the experimental submersible Dirk and Dahlgren had sailed to the
platform.
As Giordino brought the blimp down for a closer look, the three men
were stunned to see the top hatch suddenly twist and pop open. A cloud
of steaming vapor streamed from the open hatch as they looked on
incredulously. For several agonizing seconds, their eyes hung glued to
the hatch, hoping against hope. Finally, they saw the odd apparition
of a pair of stockinged feet rise up and out of the hatch. A patch of
dark hair then appeared and they realized that the feet they observed
were actually hands covered in a pair of socks. The stocking-wrapped
hands, protected from the hot metal, quickly hoisted up the lean,
racked body of their owner from the enclosed oven.
"It's Dad! He's okay!" Dirk exclaimed with glaring relief.
Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind Page 53
