by Dale Brown
“But McLanahan says here the data wasn’t transmitted to SPACECOM…”
“Space Command wasn’t one of the users, ” Elliott said. “They provided launch and orbiting monitoring and had backup-performance telemetry but weren’t scheduled to receive the imagery.” Elliott paused for a moment, then said, “You know, Cal, if you’re in DEFCON Three… “Yeah?” Elliott knew that if Jarrel was going to be in a conventional contingency operation, which was very possible, he would be deploying, as priority one, the Air Battle Force. “Well, I think we’ve got the ultimate mission-planning tool in the world available for you if you want it. All we need to do is hook you up with Jon Masters and his NIRTSat boosters, and you can build mission packages for the STRATFOR so detailed that you’d think someone already flew the mission.”
“Maybe not, ” Jarrel said, motioning to the message from McLanahan. “Your SPO says that SPACECOM will deorbit the NIRTSat. SPACECOM didn’t know about the nuke-they thought it had malfunctioned.” “Hal, step on it, ” Elliott told Briggs. “We need to get to the command post five minutes ago.”
“Got you covered, sir, ” Briggs said. He tossed a pocket-sized cellular telephone into the backseat. “I wasn’t cleared to peek at General Jarrel’s message, but I was cleared to peek at yours. When I read the thing about Space Command, I ordered a direct scrambled call to General Talbot at Falcon Air Force Base. He should be calling back any minute.” True to his word, the phone rang just as Briggs pulled up to the steel and glass headquarters building, so Elliott sat in the car and took the scrambled telephone call from there. A gruff, impatient voice answered, “NORAD, General Talbot, ” then added with even greater brusqueness, “Make it quick.”
“Mike, this is Brad Elliott calling from Ellsworth. How the hell are you?”
“Fine, Brad, just fine. Listen, Brad, can this call wait? I’m up to my ears in ‘gators right now.” Brad Elliott knew that was the understatement of the year. Air Force General Michael Talbot had one of the most unusual military jobs in the world: he was a “triple hat, ” commander of three major military organizations all at the same time. Because the Air Force was the lead agency in space-related matters, Talbot, as commander of the Air Force Space Command, was also commander of the United States Space Command, the new specified military command that directed all military space functions and coordinated all space-related activities for the three services; and because Space Command was the United States’ agency in charge of space defense, Talbot was also the current commander of the North American Aerospace Defense Command, which was a joint U.S. and Canadian organization that commanded all long-range radars and air-defense fighter bases for the defense of North America. As such, Talbot was incredibly busy even during the quiet times-with an air-defense emergency in the works, he was stretched to the limit. Even through the hiss and pop of the secure phone line, Elliott could hear the stress in Talbot’s voice. “I know you’re busy, Mike, but this is important. I need to talk to you about Jon Masters. “I got young Doctor Hot-Shot Big-Sky Damn-the-Torpedoes Masters sitting right here, Brad, ” Talbot said with audible contempt. Talbot’s commander of the Air Force Space Command’s Second Space Wing (which was in charge of all Defense Department satellites from launch to recovery) had gotten on the phone to Sky Masters’ DC-JO the minute the satellite went out. Since the NIRTSat had been launched seventy-one seconds outside of the launch window after disobeying an Air Force request to cancel, Talbot’s subordinate, the commander of the Second Space Wing, had ordered up a specifically modified C-130 cargo plane to recover the satellite. Better that, the commander thought, than having a nine-hundred-pound piece of scrap metal in a bad orbit. Masters had no choice but to go along with the Air Force. Either that or face handcuffs at Falcon Air Force Base, where he was now sitting. “He was just about to let my senior staff in his plant office inspect his records, weren’t you, Doctor Masters?” “That’s got to wait, ” Elliott said. “He just lost a satellite and I’ve got to get him out to GENESIS right away. It’s all connected.. There was a slight pause; then, “Oh…” Few things in this world could knock guys like Talbot back on their heels, but GENESIS, Brad Elliott’s classified call sign from Dreamland, was one. Just mentioning the word meant that most of the Pentagon was involved. Which was, Talbot thought, typical of Elliott, who was known to be kicking ass with an array of high-tech toys developed out in his secret labs in Nevada. Rumors had been circulating for months about Elliott’s B-2 bombers and other strange planes flying around the desert. God only knows what he needed Masters for. But the fact that Elliott knew all about a classified satellite launch that had gone wrong only twenty minutes before, told Talbot that Elliott was plugged in right at the top. “Well, you got him, Brad. Now where do you want him?”
“I need him back in his lab in Arkansas soonest. When are you going to be done chewing on him?” “I’m done. I don’t have the time or energy for shit like this anymore, ” Talbot said in a low voice. “His jet is already fueled. He’ll be airborne in thirty minutes and in Arkansas in three hours. Does this have something to do with . . . events this afternoon?”
“It could have everything to do with it.”
“I was afraid of that. The little prick leads a charmed life. You need his satellite intact as well?”
“Have you deorbited it yet?”
“Just about ready to do it-window opens in about an hour.”
“Better leave it, then. The brass hasn’t made up their minds what they want.” Talbot knew the “brass” usually included only men who had collected more than fifty million popular votes. “Whatever you say, Brad. I’ll be glad to jettison that little cocksucker anyway. He’s a pain in the ass.”
“You have that effect on people, my friend.” “Yeah, right. The bastard never stops smiling, too. You notice that? Always with the damned grin on his puss. I don’t trust somebody who grins all the time-it usually means they found someone else to put the blame on.” “If he busted one of your rules, Mike, he’s gotta pay. When GENESIS is done with him, I’ll send him back to you. How’s that?”
“Naw. Keep him outta my sight. Just get the bastards who fried my NAVSTAR satellites and we’ll call it even.”
“Deal, buddy. GENESIS out.” THE WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM The President had been in the Roosevelt Room listening to a planning meeting for a world economic conference when they told him. Lloyd Emerson Taylor, forty-third President of the United States and a descendant of the twelfth President, had made a mental note of what he was doing at that moment. It would, after all, be important for the memoirs he was going to write after he left office. And this, Lloyd Emerson Taylor guessed, was going to be one hell of an important chapter in his book. After his military aide had handed him the Eyes Only message, Taylor had immediately excused himself from the planning meeting and retreated to the Oval Office. From there, over a secure hot line, he began to get a handle on the situation: he learned that Defense, JCS, and the CIA suspected the Chinese of setting off the nuke, but no one had been able to completely verify that. Worse, the President couldn’t get word on how President Mikaso was or what was going on in Manila because all phone lines were jammed and all satellite and HF networks had been disrupted. He also learned that even though the U.S. had been monitoring the situation between the Chinese and the Philippines since their naval skirmish of a few months ago, nobody wanted China or the Philippines to know that the United States had pictures of the explosion. Apparently the pictures were not taken by a regular satellite but by a new, highly classified one called PACER SKY, an experimental system that would allow real-time targeting data for strategic bombers. Whatever the hell PACER SKY was, Taylor knew it had just snapped what might be one of the most famous photographs in thirty years, thanks to a simple stroke of luck. Finally, a more formal, albeit hastily arranged, assessment meeting was scheduled a half-hour later in the Situation Room. As Taylor, his military aide, his official White House photographer, his Secret Service bodyguard, and a civilian-clothed Navy captai
n who carried his “football, ” the portable scrambled UHF transceiver that Taylor would use in an emergency to order his strategic nuclear forces to war, made their way down the elevator to the Situation Room in the basement of the White House, the enormity and gravity of the situation finally began to sink in. Like his famous great~greatgreat~greatgrandfather, the President was a bull-nosed, laissez-faire bureaucrat who’d done well as president because of his quiet, hardworking, rocksteady style. And like his ancestor, Taylor was an ex-Army general and judge advocate who had retired to enter politics at age fifty-one, soon after pinning on his first star. Taylor had, above everything else, a keen sense of history-and his place in it. He knew, even as he entered the Situation Room and everyone stood up, that he was the first American president to have to deal with a nuclear weapon crisis since John F. Kennedy. And he was determined to handle it better than Kennedy did. He had not been in the Situation Room five minutes when he had his men on the griddle-even as phones rang constantly in the background. His eyes wandered around the table to each and every adviser: Tom Preston, his Secretary of Defense and an experienced politician; General Wilbur Curtis, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Kenneth Wayne, Director of the CIA; and Frank Kellogg, his National Security Advisor. His eyes settled on General Wilbur Curtis, chief military officer of the United States and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He was the President’s principal military adviser but a holdover from the last administration. Unfortunately, he was so well respected on the Hill and at the Pentagon that Taylor knew he couldn’t get rid of him even if he wanted to. “General Curtis, even though you got us in this DEFCON Three posture-and I wish I had been in on that decision from the start and not after your commanders went ahead and did it themselves-the ‘bolt from the blue’ theory of strategic warfare has been dead for almost a decade.” Curtis could see this was going to be a long, difficult meeting. “Sir, we were following the OPLAN-the operations planestablished and authorized by you in case of an emergency of this magnitude. DEFCON Three is a very secure posture right now. We’re-“
“If there was no apparent attack in progress, then you had time to notify me and let me make the decision, ” the President interrupted. “That’s what I expect. We will need to change the OPLAN after this to rectify it.”
“Yes, sir, ” Curtis acknowledged. “What else have you got for me, General?” Curtis cleared his throat. “Our strategic forces are in full readiness, so if this is some sort of prelude to an all-out attack against the United States, we’re ready, sir.” Curtis glanced at the Navy captain seated near the door, keeping the “football.” The President disliked having the football around-he had once told the press that he likened it to the Grim Reaper, with scythe in hand, following him everywhere he went-but in this he had no choice. “Well, ” Taylor grumbled, “I guess the question of whether this is a prelude or not will be answered once we have more information, won’t it, General? This PACER SKY thing saw who launched the missile, didn’t it?” “Not exactly, sir, ” Curtis replied. “The NIRTSatpart of the PACER SKY program-saw the nuclear explosion, but we’re trying to keep a lid on that. As you know, we’ve been monitoring the situation between the Chinese and the Philippines since that original skirmish. But because of our past association with the Philippines, we didn’t want it to appear as if we were monitoring anyone-or feeding anyone intelligence information. Still, we do know, thanks to PACER SKY, exactly which ships were in the area. SAC analysts have concluded that only the Chinese could have launched the weapon.”
“Well, then, that brings us to the bigger picture, doesn’t it?” the President said. “I’ve been briefed on the shit going down in the Philippines for some time. And you people tell me the Communists are running rampant in the outlying provinces and that if Mikaso kicks the damned bucket we could lose all ties to the Philippines-our stopover and resupply privileges, our radar sites, our listening posts, our practice bombing ranges. I was also briefed on the skirmish a few months ago between the Chinese and the Philippines, but it was characterized as nothing more than a little tiff. When a fucking nuclear bomb goes off, gentlemen, it’s not just a little tiff. Now what the hell is going on here? Is it the start of a major war, an illegal test by some country, or an accident?” Director of Central Intelligence Kenneth Wayne said, “An accident, sir, seems the only plausible explanation. The Chinese Navy could certainly overtake the Philippine Navy without having to resort to nuclear weapons. Also, we’ve detected only one explosion, which tells us there was no nuclear ex change. Of course, ” the CIA director said, lighting a pipe, “it also could have been a military response by the Chinese, but a response by . . . say, a lone wolf, and not necessarily the Chinese government itself.”
“Lone wolf?” the President asked, raising his eyebrows. “You mean some nutjob in command of a ship?” The CIA director shrugged his shoulders. “Entirely possible. Not a nutjob, per se, but simply a commander who panicked. But I’d put my money on it being a simple accident.”
“JCS doesn’t agree with the DCI’s estimation, sir, ” Curtis said. The look the President, as well as Wayne, gave him could have chilled a polar bear. “We don’t discount the DCI’s theory, but we have evidence of another possibility that I feel it would be more prudent to act upon.” The President had a very slight-but very noticeable-exasperated frown-he didn’t like being told that he was wrong. He rolled his hand as if to say, ‘Get on with it.” Curtis said, “My staff feels that this attack may be a prelude to an all-out attack and invasion of the Philippines by China… Everyone in the room sat up. Voices started coming at Curtis and at President Taylor all at once. “Ridiculous “Totally off the mark “They’d never try it Curtis pressed on. “All I have is speculation, sir, but we’re forgetting China has long historical claims to many of the Philippine Islands and the fact that ethnic Chinese make up a great majority of the Philippine population. Couple that with someone like Daniel Teguina, who has strong Communist ties, and you’ve got the makings of a real land-grab.” Voices of dissent were heard from the CIA director, the Secretary of Defense, the National Security Advisor. The President cleared his throat-loudly. All heads turned to him. “Look, we can speculate all we want, but without any information, speculation’s not going to do us a damned bit of good.” He turned to the DCI. “No word from Manila yet? Or Mikaso?”
“All lines are still jammed, sir. Satellite and HF networks are still down.” This got a grunt from the President. “And what China? Have we heard what they think about all this?” DCI Kenneth Wayne said, “We’ve got calls in to sir, including Premier Cheung.” The President turned to Tom Preston, his Secretary of Defense. Preston had been silent so far. “Thomas, what do you think?” “Well, this is an extremely vulnerable region, sir. And we’ve lost a lot of influence there since… leaving. So I think we’ve got to do at least an on-site military inspection. A task force sent from Hawaii or Japan would be sufficient and, ” in partial acknowledgment to Curtis, he added, “would deter any possible aggression, if that were going to happen.”
“Uh-huh.” The President nodded. “We do have ships patrolling the area all the time, right? So we send a few in, check it out, keep them on station for a while, and get the CIA in as well: Meanwhile I can sell everyone-for the time being-on this being an accident.”
“Excuse me, sir, but there are several standard OPLAN responses that should be implemented, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff have a few plans we’d like to offer as suggested responses, ” Curtis interjected. “You don’t think just a few ships-say, sending one carrier group-are enough?” the President asked. “Why am 1 not surprised?”
“Sir, the nuclear blast itself is cause enough for concern. But a single twentyzkilometer nuclear device detonated in the middle of one carrier battle group would destroy everyone and everything within five miles, including an aircraft carrier. “This is why the standard OPLAN calls for the deployment of at least three carrier battle groups to the region, along with a Marine Expeditionary Force, the Twenty-fifth
Infantry Division of the Army Western Command, and the Air Force First Air Battle Wing. They would deploy afloat or from Okinawa or Andersen Air Force Base on Guam, as appropriate. It is especially important these days since we have no… military forces in the Philippines. Even if we don’t use three, at least two carrier battle groups would be more appropriate. “The only two carrier battle groups available are two fossil fueled carriers, Independence and Ranger. Ranger still does not have Hornet fighter-bombers because of her accelerated decommissioning schedule, but Independence is fully combatready. Two nuclear carriers, Nimitz and Abraham Lincoln, are both in the Indian Ocean at the present time, but that’s several days’ steaming time to get back to the South China Sea. We recommend that the Marines’ landing-support carrier Belleau Wood and her support ships be deployed with the task force; they can carry about two thousand Marines and about thirty helicopters. They can split between the two carrier groups as necessary.” Curtis saw the President’s eyes when he mentioned the Marines, and he added quickly, “It’s routine to send a Marine Expeditionary Unit with such a task force, and if we’re dealing with the Philippines it might be necessary. The President still had that pained look in his eyes, but Curtis continued nonetheless: “Because the two carrier groups have fewer air-to-ground attack planes, it was suggested to augment the task force by forming the First Air Battle Wing at Andersen Air Force Base on Guam to-“
