by Irvin Baxter
© Copyright 2001 – Irvin Baxter, Jr.
All rights reserved. This book is protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America. This book may not be copied or reprinted for commercial gain or profit. The use of short quotations or occasional page copying for personal or group study is permitted and encouraged. Permission will be granted upon request. Unless otherwise identified, Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible. Please note that Destiny Image’s publishing style capitalizes certain pronouns in Scripture that refer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and may differ from some Bible publishers’ styles.
Take note that the name satan and related names are not capitalized. We choose not to acknowledge him, even to the point of violating grammatical rules.
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Dedication
To my wonderful parents who
recently entered eternal life;
To the wonderful congregation
at Oak Park Church that I pastor;
To my precious girls—Karla, Kara and Jana;
And to my wonderful wife and partner, Judy.
Chapter 1
David Freeman’s eyes steadily scanned the radar screens in front of him. The multiple monitors surrounding him kept watch against any surprise attack that might be launched upon the West Coast of the United States. He picked up his lukewarm coffee to take another sip, then blinked. An alarming blip appeared on the middle screen right in front of him. It looked to be about 1,200 miles from Los Angeles. Was it a malfunction? He quickly checked all critical controls. It wasn’t. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He didn’t have much time! Whatever was producing the alarming signal was closing fast. In fact, its very speed indicated that it was an inbound missile. Without a second to spare, David lunged for the large red button that would signal imminent attack to all defense facilities throughout the United States and around the world.
Almost immediately, defensive missiles shot from their secret silos along the coastal line. With only ten minutes remaining until the incoming weapon released its payload on the United States, the U.S. Defense Forces had only one shot at intercepting the intruding missile. David watched his radar screen with bated breath as the newly deployed Arrow Missiles sped toward the invader. If the incoming missile carried a nuclear payload, David knew what it meant: World War III!
The next two minutes were critical. Perspiration dripped from David’s face and soaked his shirt to the skin, even though the control center temperature was at its usual 72 degrees. Watching the path of the invader and the course of the defense missiles as they converged, he realized that he was holding his breath. “Relax, stay calm, breathe,” he ordered himself. David knew that if he ever implemented the years of special training on how to function under the heat of intense pressure, he needed to do it now!
His eyes tracked every blip on the radar. The defense missiles seemed to have a chance! David prayed for the first time in a long time. “Please, God. If You’re up there at all, do something right now.”
At the moment the path of the defending missiles converged with the incoming route of the attacker, a confusing array of signals appeared on the radar screen. Then, out of the confusion, the blip moving toward Los Angeles emerged. It kept coming, growing stronger and stronger with every pulse on the screen. “God help us!” David cried.
Even though the control center was built to withstand a direct nuclear hit, David still felt the shudder and heard the deep beastly rumble as the nuclear explosion unleashed all of its fury on the heart of downtown L.A. An urgent message went out to all U.S. defense facilities around the world: “The United States has sustained a full nuclear attack on its western coast. Millions are undoubtedly dead in the Los Angeles area. Most likely origin of the attack—China.”
Over the next 20 minutes, beneath the pandemonium above, radar records of all areas of the Pacific were reviewed carefully. It was concluded that the attack must have originated from a Chinese submarine reported to have been in the area earlier that day.
U.S. President Benton picked up the red hotline phone connecting him directly to China’s president. On the other end he heard, “Hello.”
“Mr. President, what is going on?” President Benton almost shouted.
“President Benton, we told you that if you interfered with our rightful claims to the Island of Taiwan, there would be a terrible price to pay. Apparently you didn’t believe us. You will suffer no more attacks if you withdraw your troops from the Straits of Taiwan. And stay out of Chinese business.” Click.
When members of the Chinese foreign ministry had delivered threats to the U.S. State Department of just this kind of action in 1996, Bill Clinton, who was President at the time, had thought surely that they were bluffing. Obviously, they weren’t.
Momentarily stunned, President Benton knew there was no time to waste. Contingency plans had been created for just this scenario. It was obvious to all in the State Department that a conventional war with 1.3 billion Chinese was out of the question. If Chinese aggression was not stopped here and now, they would soon rule the entire globe.
The President, with set jaw, looked over at the ever-present military officer with the black box. With every eye in the underground room watching, he ordered, “Open it—quick!” The officer’s hands shook with the understanding of the import of his actions. But he never hesitated. Within ten minutes of the devastation of L.A., a full nuclear attack was unleashed upon the People’s Republic of China. As ghastly as this course of action was, the President knew it was his only recourse. Within 30 minutes, Red China, for all practical purposes, would cease to exist.
The powers in China had known there might be retaliation, but they had not anticipated what they saw moving at mach-17 speed toward their beloved mainland. The radar screens that kept watch over China’s skies were absolutely filled with the incoming retaliatory missiles of the United States. And there was nothing they could do to stop them!
Chinese President Zhiang stared at Premier Cho. “You said America would back down!” he screamed accusingly. “Look at what you’ve done!”
Cho shot back, “Our sources have never misled us before. Something has gone terribly wrong! Mr. President, make those U.S. devils pay! You must immediately order a counterstrike. We owe it to the memory of the Chinese people!”
Zhiang picked up the military command phone. The ranking military officer answered immediately. “Yes, Mr. President.”
“Do we have time to launch every nuclear missile that we have before America’s weapons reach the motherland?” Zhiang asked. China had redirected every nuclear weapon in her arsenal toward America when tensions over Taiwan had begun to heat up.
The officer hesitated. “Mr. President, I’m not sure. It will be very close.”
“Then do it now!” Zhiang shouted. He heard the phone slam onto the receiver as the military officer ran to execute his leader’s command.
President Zhiang approached the array of scree
ns monitoring the global theater of war. “Will our missiles be launched in time?” he asked.
The communications officer’s eyes scanned the dials monitoring the operation of every missile. “We don’t know yet, sir. It’s too close to call.”
Chapter 2
David Freeman, still sitting before his radar screens, watched in horror and fascination as the missiles carrying America’s retaliatory strike leaped from their silos and sped toward the shores of China. The scenario he had been trained to participate in, but hoped never to witness, was playing out before his very eyes.
As David watched the incredible number of nuclear-equipped missiles head toward Asia, he couldn’t help but muse to himself, “We apparently do have all the nuclear firepower that we claimed to have.” He had often wondered if there really was enough nuclear weaponry to destroy all plant, animal, and human life off the face of the planet one hundred times over. Now he no longer wondered. A blanket of heavy foreboding dropped over him. What if he never left this command center alive? What if he was, in fact, witnessing the end of the world? Perhaps the prophets of doom were right after all. His thoughts raced. Would he ever see his beautiful wife Sharon again? His little black-haired boy, David Jr., was four years old. What about him? And then there was Misty, that gorgeous blond two-year-old darling who had her fingers wrapped tightly around her daddy’s heart. Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes. “David, stop it!” he shouted to himself. Such was the tension and emotion in the room that no one else noticed his cry.
David mentally yanked himself back to his senses. “Pull yourself together, Freeman,” he muttered. His eyes once again began to scan the screens for additional incoming attacks. Once America’s three hundred missiles had unleashed their destruction on China, he wouldn’t have to worry anymore. But until then, it was critical that any enemy missiles be detected immediately. The sooner the missiles were spotted, the better chance the newly deployed defensive missile system had of bringing them down before they could reach their targets.
The most disturbing thought of all now presented itself to his mind. What about Russia? Would Russia decide to defend China? Or would she think this was the optimum time to destroy the U.S.—clearing the way for Russian domination of the 21st Century? He certainly hoped such a foolhardy thing would never occur. Surely Russia knew that the United States had a completely separate arsenal aimed at its principal nuclear rival on earth.
Time passed slowly, inevitably. In ten minutes the destruction of China would be an accomplished fact. David found himself filled with exultation at what he knew was within his country’s grasp.
But then his thoughts roamed to the human aspect of war. In his mind he could see little children running on the playgrounds and streets of China. He saw young fathers and nursing mothers. He saw grandparents proudly holding their grand-babies. All of a sudden, the absolute horror of what man was unleashing upon his fellowman hit him in the gut. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed. “How could this ever have happened?!”
Three minutes, two minutes, one minute… David watched as the missiles swept downward toward their targets. First hit was Canton, then Shanghai, Tianjin, Shenyang, Guangzhou—every one of China’s major cities—and finally Beijing.
The live broadcast feed from China, shown at the other end of the control room, continued to report developments as the first few nuclear explosions unleashed their death-dealing fury on the Chinese populace. Little did these broadcasters suspect that they themselves would, within minutes, be swallowed up within a raging nuclear inferno. But as he listened, David understood it completely. “Oh my God,” David said to himself. “Oh my God!”
When the last missile struck its target, David sat back and sighed. This war is over! Still, he decided to scan the screens one more time—just in case. On his final pass, what he saw turned his blood to ice water in his veins. “Oh no! My God, no!” He counted five, no, seven, there’s three more, twelve, thirteen…thirteen nuclear warheads headed toward the United States! “Those Chinese! They knew they were going down, so they decided to take the U.S. down with them!”
David rapidly typed into the computer. Almost instantly his message appeared on every defense center’s computer screen in America.
“URGENT! RED ALERT! Thirteen incoming nuclear missiles from China. All anti-missile weapons must be deployed immediately! I repeat. All anti-missile weapons must be deployed immediately! URGENT! RED ALERT!”
David sat back again, knowing he had done his job. He had done all he could do for the time being. About that time, next to his screens, the red phone reserved for top secret military communications rang. “Officer David Freeman here,” he answered.
The voice on the other end stated crisply, “Please hold for the President of the United States.”
David barely had time to catch his breath.
The President moved straight to the point. “Is this the L.A. Defense Center?”
“It is, sir,” David replied.
“Are you the officer who sent the initial warning of China’s pending attack?” President Benton asked.
“Affirmative, sir,” David answered.
The President continued, “I have just received a report of thirteen nuclear missiles incoming from China. Is this report true?”
“Yes, sir. That is true,” David responded.
“Officer Freeman, are we sure these new missiles are not coming from Russia or another enemy nation?” President Benton inquired. “It’s urgent that I know for sure immediately!”
“Mr. President, I was watching the screens, monitoring the coast of China. I thought we had successfully caught the enemy’s missiles on the ground. But just as our missiles began to hit their targets, I decided I should take one more look as a precaution. That’s when I saw China’s missiles rise from their silos. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Thank you very much, officer. Good job. Remain at your post of duty and stay alert. This may not be over yet!” The President hung up without saying good-bye.
David had no time to reflect on the implications of what had just transpired. He had spoken directly to the President of the United States during an historic military conflict. There would be time later to contemplate the role into which he had been thrust in this momentous contest. Right now there were millions of American lives to be saved.
He focused his attention on the screens displaying the frightening array of missiles—both incoming and outgoing. David felt sure that the 13 missiles fired by China would be her last. Even now he knew that China was no more. But those nuclear missiles were very real and deadly beyond imagination. They had to be stopped! What were their targets? New York? San Diego? Denver? Washington, D.C.? Houston? Chicago? No one knew for sure. Only one thing was certain. Those nuclear missiles represented vengeance, the vengeance of the Red Chinese Dragon. Shudders ran up and down David’s spine at the thought.
Events were happening one after another at incredible speed, but David felt like he was watching everything in slow motion. His eyes followed the Chinese missiles on the screen as they sped toward their predetermined targets—targets that remained a mystery to the intended victims.
Most Americans were aware by now that L.A. had been hit and that war was on. However, few understood that millions of them could be incinerated into nothingness within the next 30 minutes. “If only we had built that Star Wars missile defense system when President Reagan wanted to!” David mused. “We would have perfected it by now, and none of this would be happening.”
As David watched the first battery of anti-missile weapons converge upon the leading Chinese warheads, he found himself holding his breath again. As the U.S. signals and the enemy signals intersected, David again prayed. “God, please help.” The massive explosion he saw on the monitor indicated a direct hit. “Yes!” he cried.
The U.S. missiles converged on Chinese warhead number two. Again, the explosion on the screen indicated success. “All right!” David’s optimism was growing. Maybe with enough notice, t
hese Arrow Missiles could be effective.
Just when David was starting to breathe easier about the situation, the third missile slipped through the defenses. Oh God, I wonder where that one is headed? he thought to himself. The fourth nuclear missile slipped through as well. “C’mon, God,” David cried. “You’ve got to help us!”
Two of the U.S. missiles converged at once on Chinese missile number five. The resulting explosion told David it was a direct hit. Missile number six continued past the missile shield, as did seven and eight. Five Chinese missiles had slipped through! Then number nine was hit. Ten kept coming, and number eleven slipped through as well. This isn’t going very well, David thought to himself. The Chinese knew our defense system was not reliable yet. That’s probably the reason they decided to push the Taiwan issue now instead of later.
Three anti-missile weapons blasted Chinese missile number twelve out of the sky, but number thirteen made it through. David counted…one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Eight missiles in all made it through. Eight of America’s cities would soon go up in flames…nuclear flames.
David realized his job was not over yet. He needed to send warnings as soon as he figured out which cities were to be hit. He watched closely as missile number three began its deadly descent. It appeared to be headed for Denver. David sent an alert, but they had less than five minutes left. He turned away to track the next one.
His eyes narrowed as missile number four continued on to the southern part of the United States. The trajectory told David that Houston was the likely target. He had friends in Houston. Four minutes later, his fears were confirmed. I wonder if Jim and Katie are home right now? Again, he turned his attention away.
Missile number six had begun its dive much more quickly. Three minutes later it became obvious that Chicago was about to be history.
Things were happening so fast now that everything depended on instinct. Missile seven swept toward Phoenix. Missile number eight sped toward Charlotte, North Carolina. Then number ten dove downward into the heart of Boston.
