Wanda

by carl smothers

Washington, D.C.

  A few seconds later, Igor ran through the oval office door. “What’s wrong, Mr. President?”

  “Get Holmes over here right now! The MOA has given us twenty-four hours to surrender. Call STL and find out how Stevenson’s doing. If he can’t beat this deadline, we need to make sure Holmes’ plan is ready to go. Even if Stevenson is ready, we need a backup. Inform the general that I want him to ensure all I have to do is press the red button and launch the missiles instantly. Tell Holmes I’m ordering an immediate DEF CON 1. Hurry, man! The crazy bastards might pull some other stunt on us! I’m transferring my office to the Pentagon Command and Control Center. ”

  Igor’s hands shook badly as he called the general and ordered him to set defense condition one. Igor had never seen the United Sates at this high of a defense level. It was scary — not just for him, but for America, and the world. What if this starts a global thermonuclear war? His whole body trembled as he contemplated the consequences of such a catastrophe.

  Romanoff’s hands shook and he sweated profusely as he set up an emergency conference call with Holmes, Hart and Harry Stevenson. “The MOA has given us twenty-four hours to surrender. President Grant has just placed us on DEF CON 1. All hell is about to break loose.”

  “I sort of expected this,” Harry remarked.

  “Can you have the counter weapon ready in time? If you can’t, I’m recommending we launch an antimatter attack against Pakistan immediately.”

  “Harry!” Bill prodded.

  “I’m thinking … yes, we can. The algorithms are complete and they’re integrating the field equations into the virus program as we speak. Dr. Forrester, with help from the Pentagon, has already modified the WNS system code to automatically link them to us when they access the satellites, so I’m certain we can be ready … provided nothing unforeseen happens.”

  “What do you mean?” Igor demanded, even more nervous as the conversation continued.

  “Just what I said,” Harry explained. “Excluding some extraordinary event we can’t anticipate, we’ll be ready. We’re proceeding without a beta test, so there is some risk.”

  “We have a plan B ready if you can’t get there in time, or if your efforts aren’t successful,” Romanoff said. “I can just see the nuclear catastrophe that’s about to happen.”

  Harry wiped his forehead. His stress level was off the charts, but he managed to keep a lid on it. “I’ll tell the team, and we’ll be ready.”

  Romanoff replied with a thud of his fist, “This is no bullshit. We’re in a shit-load of trouble here.” His eyes were wide and his face flushed red. “Are all the links in place to establish a joint command and control center with the Pentagon?”

  “Yes, it is. We’re already communicating with them,” Harry said.

  Pentagon/STL

  Command and Control Center

  Washington, D.C.

  Everyone in the MCC control room was working like there was no tomorrow, and maybe there wasn’t. Harry walked up to Marc. “I need to talk to the team. Romanoff and Hart just called. We only have twenty-four hours until the MOA attacks.”

  “Are you serious?” Marc took a hefty swig of his coffee. His eyes were wild and a deep furrow formed between his eyebrows as he activated the intercom. “Attention team leaders. Come to the command console immediately.”

  “What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Ronnie remarked.

  Harry shook his head. The expression on his face said it all. “I wish I had seen a ghost. We have twenty-four hours to surrender before the MOA attacks America. We have to have our stuff ready. Can we do it?”

  “It’s going to be close,” Carmen replied. “As I told you earlier, we still need about twenty-three hours, to complete everything. It’s going to be real tight.”

  Harry loosened his tie and sat down. “Let’s get on it. A lot of people are going to die if we fail.” How in the hell did I ever get in this situation? That bastard Oganda never stops. I’d really like to shoot him.

  A loud, sickening sound emanated from the direction of the communications computer facility.

  “What the hell was that?” Marc asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  The IT technicians ran into the main control room. “Someone blew up the satellite communications computer!”

  The silence in the MCC went deathly quiet.

  “How bad is it?” Harry asked.

  The senior technician just shook his head. “Bad. In addition, the worst thing is we don’t have another computer. We only stock spare cards. I’m afraid we’re SOL unless we can pull a rabbit out of the hat.”

  “Did we catch the person who did it?” Marc asked. “Who in the hell would pull a stunt like that, and why?”

  “She got away … for now. I think security wounded her. So far, she’s still on the loose.”

  Harry stared at Marc as they ran the options. “Marc, check to see if we can get a spare flown in from your facility in Los Angeles.” His pulse was pounding and he was having a hard time keeping it together. “We have less than twenty-three hours to pull off a miracle.”

  “I’ll call HQ and see if they have one that we can do a plug and play. This is going to be a cliff hanger,” Marc said.

  “I’ll contact the Pentagon and try to have one airlifted in from there. If we work both angles, maybe we can get it done.” Shit ... we didn’t need this.

  “Damn it to hell! We needed something else to worry about.” Marc slammed his fist on the console. “I’ll bet Oganda’s behind this. I’d like to strangle him.”

  Harry laughed. “Join the club. In the meantime we need to keep calm and make sure everyone proceeds as though there is no problem. We sure don’t want to get the team spun up.”

  Ronnie spoke up. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

  Thirty minutes later Marc, Harry and Ronnie met in Marc’s office. Marc spoke first.

  “All of our spare machines have been sent to the East Coast to a new facility in Maryland. Worse yet, all of them are undergoing mods to incorporate a major hardware and software design upgrade. Even if they worked around the clock, it would take thirty-six hours to get one here in good working order. What did you find out, Harry?”

  “General Holmes said they’ll take a spare machine from one of the communications centers and airlift it to us immediately. The bad news is, there’s a big snowstorm moving in to the D.C. area and it doesn’t look good. Even the military has grounded their planes. Holmes is pressing the President to launch a nuclear attack, but Grant’s resisting. He doesn’t want to start killing our friends. It may be unfair, but we’re the last line of defense. We have to make this happen. The alternatives are pretty gruesome.”

  “We’ll do everything we can to make this happen. By the way, did they find out who blew up the computer?” Ronnie asked.

  “No,” Marc replied. “Security thinks it’s a woman and is still hunting for her. We have put armed guards on all computer facilities with a shoot to kill order. Any unauthorized person that goes near those machines will be shot.”

  Andrews Air Force Base

  Washington, D.C.

  The communications computer was loaded aboard a transport just before the storm arrived. A flight crew from the 105th Airlift Command was in position and would launch as soon as they were given the go … no matter how bad things were. The snowstorm had hit the east coast with a fury, dropping ten inches of snow in a matter of two hours.

  The spaceport manager committed every resource she had to clear the launch pads. The snow vaporizers tried, but the snow was falling so hard it didn’t look good. Visibility, wind and snow loading were intense.

  Instrumentation made visibility a non-issue, but given the microbursts, icing and wind loading the transport would never survive liftoff. The pilot sat in his seat inpatient to fly — unable to do anything. He cursed the storm. Even going sub-orbital, the atmospheric turbulence would make things difficult, and it would take two hours to get the c
omputer to its destination. Time was his enemy.

  Damn this storm. I need to get this frigging bird in the air, he thought. Frustrated, he radioed the Pentagon. “Colonel, this is Special Lift Twenty-Two. I want permission to fly now! I think I can push through this.”

  “Belay that, Major. It won’t do us any good if you crash. Weather tells us a hole in the storm will be over you in a few minutes. When that happens, you can take off. Not before.”

  “Roger, Colonel. Please keep me informed. I’m ready to go! Screw this damn storm anyway.” If it were up to me, I’d put this bird in the air right now. Damn it, I’m not used to sitting on my ass when a critical mission’s at stake. His hand was on the throttle. The seconds drug on like hours.

  “Major, this is control. The hole’s in place. Depart immediately.”

  “Roger that, sir. Let’s get this bird in the air. Okay crew, we’re taking off.” About fucking time.

  The ground crew had just finished de-icing the wings. Only ten hours remained before the attack.

  “Tower, this is Twenty-Two ready for liftoff.”

  “Roger, Twenty-Two. You are cleared for departure.”

  He activated vertical propulsion engines, and as soon as the landing gear cleared the launch pad, the pilot pushed the throttle to 100 percent. The quantum propulsion system rapidly accelerated the craft, and the pilot put the transport into a steep, high velocity attack angle rapidly getting the transport out of the weather.

  “Tower, this is Mil Flight Twenty-Two. We’re airborne and proceeding full throttle to Kirkland in Albuquerque.

  The colonel in charge relied. “Roger Twenty-Two. Your corridor is clear to destination. Please be advised another big storm is moving towards Albuquerque from the West Coast. You are going to have a tight window on that end. Good luck, Major. Andrews out.”

  Pentagon/STL

  Command and Control Center

  Washington, D.C.

  Harry walked over to the command console where Marc was running a status check. His nerves were on edge. As hard as it was, he tried to maintain a calm demeanor so his team wouldn’t defocus.

  “Harry, we’re really close,” Marc said. “They have the algorithms loaded and ready. We won’t have much time after that machine gets here. I just hope the storm delays until after he lands. The computer still has a LATV (Lower Atmosphere Transport Vehicle) ride. Man this is going to be tight.”

  Harry rubbed his forehead. “No shit. Sun spots, black holes and now a bad ass snow storm.”

  Marc laughed nervously. “Sometimes life can really throw us a curve, but it’s the way we take the pitch that matters.”

  Harry nodded. I think there’s a message in that for me.

  Kirkland Air Force Base

  Albuquerque, New Mexico

  “Twenty-Two, this is Kirkland control. Please be advised a major storm is about to hit us.”

  “How much time do we have?”

  “Less than one hour. You’re cleared to pad five. We’re flashing the lights. The LATV is waiting for you.”

  “Thanks Kirkland. I see the lights. I’m lining up on final approach now. Expect touchdown in two minutes.”

  “Roger, Twenty-Two. I’m handing you over to final approach and ground control.”

  The major sat the SOTC down gently on the assigned landing pad, cut the engines and dropped the ramp. Ground support vehicles were quickly driven into the cargo hold.

  It took ten minutes to transfer the computer. As soon as it was aboard the LATV and secured, the pilot lifted off and headed to the STL facility. If they didn’t beat the storm, game over.

  Flight Alpha Six

  “Alpha Six, this is Kirkland ATC. Be advised you’re working against a sixty-knot headwind, and the storm is closing fast. Visibility is extremely limited and we expect you will need to go to instrumented flight rules (IFR) shortly. We have cleared all air traffic in your vicinity.”

  “Thanks, Kirkland,” the pilot replied. He immediately went to instruments. The pilot turned on his ground and power line avoidance radars. Power lines had caused the destruction of many LATVs, and the pilot did not want to be one of the statistics, particularly with the cargo they were transporting.

  Only two hours left, and it would take at least one to get the machine to the facility — assuming the headwinds or microbursts didn’t get any worse. There was a high probably the storm would hit before he landed. He pushed the LATV to its limits, and was completely dependent on his radars and instruments. There was zero visibility.

  The LATV bounced around making control extremely difficult. Flying at two hundred knots and fifty feet above the terrain by ground avoidance radar was one thing, but that and heavy downdrafts pushed the pilot’s skills to the limit.

  “Capt, this storm’s a son a bitch. Man, we’re gonna’ be a couple of lucky fuckers if we aren’t tangled in wires or have our asses slammed into the ground.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever flown in weather quite this bad. This is going to be a close one, Charlie.”

  A heavy downdraft hurled the craft towards the ground, only forty feet below them.

  “Holy, shit. I almost lost it on that draft!” The pilot gritted.

  “I nearly puked on the console,” The co-pilot said. “This is worse than riding a roller coaster blindfolded.”

  The storm grew more intense. Thrown around by the turbulence and strong winds, the pilot was having difficulty trying to keep the bird off the ground while simultaneously avoiding obstacles.

  Flying by IFR is easy enough, but this low and trying to avoid wires and the ground is about to kick my ass, he thought. We’ll be damn lucky if we don’t crash this thing before we get to STL. He was sweating under his flight suit.

  Marble sized hail bounced off the cockpit windshield. It startled the pilot, and he inadvertently jerked the stick, causing the LATV to lunge downward. The ground avoidance radar sounded the impact alarm. “Shit!” he yelled as he quickly corrected the altitude.

  “Damn, Charlie, I can’t believe we’re taking hail. If this stuff gets any bigger, we’re not going to make it. What else can happen?”

  “Capt, you just scared the shit out of me,” Charlie replied. “I’m gonna’ have to throw my flight suit away.”

  “How far out are we? The pilot asked. “If this stuff gets any worse, I don’t think I can keep us in the air. Can you see anything?”

  “It’s harder than shit to see. If I’m right, the runway lights should appear any second. There it is! I thought we’d never see this place except in body bags.”

  The pilot landed the LATV adjacent to the control facility just as the full fury of the storm hit. When they sat down, the ground crew entered the cargo bay and loaded the computer on a ground support vehicle. The howling wind and the jostling LATV made the transfer a risky situation. Just as they started down the ramp, a tie down strap broke. The computer tilted hard under the wind load.

  “Grab hold of the computer. It’s going to fall over!” the supervisor screamed.

  Two ground crew members slammed their bodies against the machine just before it tumbled to the ground.

  “Tie this machine down. Now!” The supervisor yelled.

  It took five, critical minutes to get the tie downs secured. “I think we’ve got her under control,” he yelled.

  “Okay, let’s move this baby to its new home. Be very careful with this thing. We break it and it’s all over.”

  Pentagon/STL

  Command and Control Center

  Washington, D.C.

  Thirty minutes remained as the crew set the computer in place. They still had to integrate it with the system. The IT techs hooked up the cabling, power systems, and then tried to initiate the system. A tech flipped the main power switch several times. The computer would not boot.

  “Hold on, I want to check the circuit boards. One may have worked loose during the transport.” The IT supervisor quickly opened a rear panel to inspect the motherboard. Valuable time expired as he
methodically worked through the maze of optical circuit boards and interconnections. “I think I got it. The friggin’ motherboard and a power board jarred loose. He pushed the cards into place. “Okay, try it now.”

  The other tech flipped the power switch. The maintenance panel lights flickered a few times then lit up as the machines operating system began to bring it to life.

  Harry and Marc sat at the main control console when the IT supervisor called. “Doc, the machine’s in place and we’ve connected the communication links. It looks okay. You can start integration.”

  “Thank, goodness,” Harry muttered.

  Marc addressed his system control computer. “Computer, is the WNS communications computer on-line, and ready to function?”

  “One moment and I will verify status. The computer is on-line and is ready to link with WNS at your direction.”

  “Thank, God.” Marc breathed. “Please link in the Pentagon and display them on screen three.”

  “Harry,” Marc said. “We’re ready to go. Looks like we only have fifteen minutes. I hope this friggin thing works.”

  “Me too. Let’s start the final integration routines.”Harry swallowed hard and exhaled loudly.

  Grant, Holmes and Romanski were in the Pentagon/STL Joint Command and Control room deep in the bowels of the building observing operations in the MCC. “Where are we?” Holmes asked.

  Marc took a deep breath, bit his lip then replied. “We still have to complete the integration sequences. It’s going to be close, General.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Holmes exclaimed in a harsh tone. “Let’s make sure we get this in-place. Right now!”

  The system control computer announced:

  “Ten minutes until WNS uplink.”