The Manhattan Incident

by Raymond Poincelot

  “President Darius Rushmore here. I’m a bit busy as you might guess, but the hot line has my complete attention right now.” General Straub described the situation. “Mr. President, I don’t have to tell you how dangerous this is. At some point it is highly probable the alien sub will launch nuclear or biological or both types of missiles at various targets in the United States. The United States seems to be the only target purposely selected by the fleet and the cylindrical anomaly. The aliens must have registered us as the most formidable enemy and want a knockout punch. Their mindset is likely that if we fold, the other nations will follow shortly. As you know, GAF really has no naval capability. That was left to the members comprising the Earth First alignment. Hold on, I have the coordinates. I’ll have them sent over the internet on the encrypted channel.” A full minute passed in silence. “General, this is my naval advisor, Admiral Thaddeus Sterling. “Admiral Sterling here, General Straub. The coordinates place the sub about 140 miles east somewhere between New York and DC. Our SUWS, sorry our sonar underwater warning system, should pick them up shortly. Yes, we have a signal. They are being tracked.” “Admiral, do you have any subs in the vicinity?” “’ll check. It may take a few minutes for my assessment.” “Don’t break the connection. We’ll wait.”

  “General, while we’re waiting for the Admiral, let me give you a presidential take regarding the US military forces. Some of us in the United States never trusted the Chinese or Russians completely, even after Earth First Council and its enforcement arm, GAF, mediated world peace. President Chung especially had misgivings, but I’m sure you know all about that. She put resources into the navy’s attack submarine fleet quietly before she left office. I must say I, POTUS, share her view in this instance, General.”

  General Straub for the second time in a short period felt blindsided again. Amazingly, both President Rushmore and the former President Chung harbored mistrust of Russia and China, despite GAF’s assurances that all was harmonious. At least this unexpected turn of events had a possible upside, hopefully an attack submarine nearby the alien underwater vessel. Perhaps he might yet change his opinion of former President Chung, should they all live past this crisis.

  “Admiral Thaddeus Sterling here, General. We have one fast attack sub, advanced Virginia class, capable of fast intercept in the area. It is our most rapid and best armored sub. It is not like your father’s submarine. The armor technology uncovered by GAF and begrudgingly shared with us makes this sub the toughest on the planet, but don’t worry. We have a few more like it on their way as backup. We have some in the Pacific in case they are needed there. They are all on full alert right now as we speak.” General Straub imagined the Admiral saying this line with a sneer.

  “I have instructed Commander Richard Grafton of the urgency of our situation. His orders are to intercept and completely destroy the alien vessel at all costs. Failure is not an option. As a courtesy, I have authorized the submarine transmissions to go to your frequency. We’ll all be in on the progress.” “Admiral, I am most appreciative. What is the sub’s name?” “USS Shatner.” “Admiral, did I hear that correctly. Is it a joke?” “No, General. President Chung named it that way. While I only have it second hand, it appears that she thought the name wouldn’t be taken too seriously by GAF intelligent agents tracking our fleet buildup, and two, it is highly advanced as was Captain Kirk’s space vessel. Chung had a sense of humor.” “Thank you, President Rushmore and Admiral Sterling. Your assistance is greatly appreciated by us.” President Rushmore responded, “You’re welcome and I assure you, your assistance with the rest of the alien fleet is more than appreciated. We’ll talk after all of this is over.”

  General Straub turned to Munger. “Are there any changes in the fleet, especially in regards to the larger vessels?” “No, Sir. They are still maintaining the same altitude and still approaching our coast.” “Let me know the minute anything changes and when they are in intercept range of our F-22EVDs. They must be waiting to mop up after their submersible vessel launches its missiles.”

  Suddenly the USS Shatner communication channel opened. “General Straub, this is Commander Grafton. We are parked alongside the edge of an underwater mountain range. It should keep us off the detection system of the alien submarine. Our HD radar shows it is huge with a dozen columnar protrusions on the topside, likely missile launch towers. It will pass us in a few minutes. We will then slip out behind it for the kill. Wait, our sonar system is picking up noises from it and our imaging suggests an elongation at the top of the columns.” Commander Grafton realized that the elongations must be hatches opening on the launch tubes. “Fire control officer, launch nuclear torpedoes one through eight immediately!” The FCO pressed the red button immediately. Eight nuclear tipped torpedoes sped toward the alien submarine. “”Torpedo crew, reload tubes now!” “Sir, HD radar shows torpedo like objects being launched from the hostile. Trajectory is for intercept of our torpedoes.” “Damn, launch nuclear torpedoes nine through 12 now! Wait 30 seconds and launch the last four.” “Sir, more interceptor torpedoes being launched; I count 15. Either they ran out or one is a hang-fire.” The USS Shatner rocked violently as the explosions generated extensive underwater displacement. “All stations report. Damage control, deploy and report.” “Sir, only minor flooding and contained with hatch closures. No injuries or loss of life.” The mountain to their side fortunately minimized the damage from the water shockwave. “Sir, HD radar shows one torpedo still viable. Sir, a direct hit! Again the USS Shatner rocked, but not as violently. “Sir, imaging shows only debris.” “Commander Grafton, job well done! Hopefully, we’ll do as well on our end.”

  General Straub quickly turned to Munger and said, “Report on the status of the RMIDS.” “Sir, all of them report as fully operational.” Excellent, now for the surprise thought General Straub. RMIDS, short for Reagan Missile Integrated Defense System, named in honor of a president some years back, Ronald Reagan, for his Star Wars missile defense system. The idea was superb, but the technology back then was not up to the task. Thanks in part to the reverse engineering of the alien laser technology and the fantastic IT targeting technology only recently developed, the system had become a reality. The only worry was its newness. Hopefully all the software bugs had been discovered and corrected. Well, we’ll find out thought the General. His reverie was interrupted by Munger. “Sir, all fleets have come to a dead stop and are still out of range for our F22EVs.”

  Suddenly General Straub had a good guess what the larger vessel’s purpose was, a missile carrier. Sure enough, Munger said, “Sir, multiple launches detected from the large vessel in the fleet.” RMIDS satellite radar picked up the signatures immediately. There were literally thousands of these small satellites deployed in orbit around the Earth. All were deliberately designed to look like harmless communication satellites. The number was a deliberate redundancy. The aliens would likely realize their purpose when the laser beams emanated from them and started vaporizing the incoming missiles. The aliens would start targeting them with return laser fire, but over half would have to go before the system had any holes. Lasers flashed out in target locked mode onto the missiles. Seconds later missiles started to be vaporized in flight. As expected, the alien vessels started destroying satellites within their range. General Straub watched the display as red lights and blue lights blinked off. The reds were missiles and the blues satellites. After several minutes only two missiles remained in the space above North America. “Not bad, Munger. Now for the rest of RMIDS.” Ground radars locked on to the incoming missiles and intercept missiles were launched from silos on the eastern coast of the United States. Each enemy missile was targeted by three interceptors, again a redundancy to assure a kill. Several minutes later Munger reported. “Sir, all missiles are destroyed.” Everyone held their breath to see if any other missiles were to be launched from the alien vessel. None were forthcoming. Either the launch was a full kill measure or some were being saved for later.

  “Munge
r, reiterate my order that the top priority target for first kill is the larger vessel.” “Sir, order on the way to all F22EVD and Warthog OS squadrons. Sir, the alien fleet is moving toward the coast and dropping. The projected flight path brings them to Washington, DC first.” “It sounds like they intend to take out the government again, like last time, then on to the military bases.”

  “Patch me into the nearest GAF Air Wing.” “Sir, I have the Commander of Air Group Delta of DC on the horn. He is CAG Webster Flint.” “CAG Flint, this is General Straub. I assume you are monitoring the alien fleet just as we are. How soon can you intercept?” “Thirty minutes, General.” “Good, how many F22EVDs under your command and do you have any of the new experimental ones?” “Sir, I have 90 under my Command, broken into three squadrons commanded by Lieutenant Colonels Norman Braxton, Lee Chiu, and Amy Haberstrom. We have three of the experimental F22EVDs with the more advanced reflective coatings to better reflect laser fire. What are your orders, Sir?” “There are 28 alien crafts coming your way. While 90 to 28 odds are in your favor, it is likely that the craft will split into Wedgies, putting you at 90 to 112. It is likely that the Wedgies also contain smaller fighter crafts, the Stubbies, as we call them, further diminishing your odds. You will need backup. Your orders are to target the larger vessel as a priority and then the others. Use the experimental F22EVDs against the larger vessel. The minute your heat sensors show the laser fire exceeding the limits of your reflective coating, heat shield and armor, you are to retreat and save your aircrafts. Do not bail out, unless you have no choice. Is that understood?” “Yes, Sir.”

  Munger signaled the General. “Sir, I have the CAG of the next nearest Air Wing at Atlanta on the horn, CAG Jackson Whitefeather.” “CAG Whitefeather, General Straub here. How far away are you from CAG Flint’s Air Wing?” “Sir, we can rendezvous with them in 22 minutes. That will limit our engagement time as top speed sucks up fuel fast.” “You are cleared to land at Dulles International Airport after engagement.” “Yes, Sir. Understood and on our way.” Sonic booms echoed up the East Coast. Few below noticed other than the ground troops in their defensive positions. Deep in the shelters, the civilian population hardly noticed. General Straub contacted the other GAF Commanders around the globe and explained his attack strategy. Next he placed all the Warthog OS Air Wings on high alert and requested those nearest the initial intercept sites to move into position in case any alien crafts suddenly took evasive downward movements or if alien crafts survived because the F22EVDs failed to stop them.

  Suddenly Munger spoke. “Sir, the fleets are all going into Wedgie formation right now. Multiple blips are being detected emerging from the Wedgies, five for each Wedgie. That makes 560 Stubbies and the 112 Wedgies, Sir. Stubbies are dropping straight, down Sir. The Wedgies are headed directly toward the Air Wing over DC.” “Damn,” said General Straub. Contact Air Wing CAG Flint in the DC area. While I’m talking with him, put out my general order for all available Warthog-OS Air Wings aloft and on the tarmac within 200 miles of DC to converge on the coordinates of the Stubbies.”

  CAG Flint radioed his pilots. “According to General Straub, we have 112 Wedgies coming at us. While they are bigger than us and have 22 more units than us, we will kick ass. That is an order. You are to stay in the fight until you reach the limit of your armament. Retreat at that point. We don’t want to lose any F-22EVDs or pilots. Only ditch your plane as a last resort. CAG Whitefeather’s air wing will be here shortly to even out the odds. Go get the bastards. Make them pay. Over and out.”

  “Sir, I have CAG Memsley on the horn.” “General Straub, this is CAG Harry Memsley of the Canadian GAF contingent. My F22EVD Air Wing can be over DC in 12 minutes with fuel to spare. We would like to assist.” “Memsley, we’ll take the assistance. We have no idea how well these Wedgies will stand up to our pounding. Refuel at Dulles when you are done. And, thank you.” Straub wondered why he hadn’t thought of the Toronto fleet over the Atlanta fleet. Was it cognitive slippage or just the stress of the moment? As if in answer to his thought, his P-Com started a steady beep. Straub recognized it as a medical beep. Evidently, the health monitor part of the P-Com had registered something wrong. Just then Dr. Chaz Woburn came running into the TACS room. He was the base Doctor-in-Chief. “General, you need this injection right now. Your blood pressure is highly elevated and you could have a stroke. This shot will do two things, one, reduce your stress level and two, blood pressure. And to answer your question, no, it won’t dull your mental state. You can continue here, but my order is for a complete workup after all this is over. We need to see if this is just an episode of the moment, or some underlying condition. Roll up your sleeve.” Straub felt the needle’s prick and a cold feeling flowing into his arm. A few seconds later the P-Com beep stopped.

  Straub watched the holographic display. The Wedgies were red blips and the F22EVDs were blue. The three experimental F-22EVDs were approaching the large alien craft. The two opposing fleets were closing fast. On the other display, Straub saw the Stubbie blips. There were so many that it almost looked like one intense bleeding red giant dot. The Warthogs-OS were not yet visible, being too far away. In about five minutes, several F22EVDS could be seen retreating, already reaching their armor limit. The number of blue dots suddenly increased as the air wing from Canada arrived under CAG Harry Memsley’s command. Suddenly the large vessel under attack by the three F-22EVDs vanished as combined laser fire and uranium slug missiles with shaped charges ripped into the large alien ship. A cheer went up in the TACS room. However, that turned into glumness several minutes later, as only a few dozen F-22EVDs from the two air wings still remained in the fight. The remaining 15 Wedgies appeared to be gaining the upper hand. Suddenly Straub saw the 90 blips of the Atlanta wing closing down the distance to DC. The battle continued for what seemed to be an eternity. F-22EVDs retreated faster than Wedgies disappeared. There were now six Wedgies left and only a handful of F-22EVDs. Straub began to worry, as they were almost out of missiles and the lasers would be overheating. His worry turned to glee as he saw the Atlanta wing zooming in for the kill. A few minutes later a huge cheer went up in the TACS room. Every Wedgie had been destroyed. Although damaged to varying degrees, no F-22EVDs had been lost. They would all be repaired and made airworthy in rapid order.

  All eyes turned to the second display as the Stubbies came into range of the waiting Warthog units. Numerous blue dots were converging on the Stubbies from all sides. They danced around the Stubbies like angry wasps whose hive had been threatened. Their stings were quite lethal. Stubbie after Stubbie disappeared from the screen. A few blue dots vanished too. Straub hoped their pilots had bailed before their plane failed. Soon only a handful of Stubbies remained. The blue dots had overwhelming numerical superiority. What a killer aircraft, thought the General. He couldn’t believe that at one time the Pentagon wanted to scrap the Warthog and mothball the remaining ones because they thought the Warthogs had become obsolete. It was a good thing that pushback had come from so many places before the aliens appeared on the scene. Of course, much was owed to the upgrades since then. There was only one red dot left and it vanished. Munger suddenly spoke up. “Sir, the pilot reports he didn’t get the last kill. The Stubbie simply vanished as he was ready to fire.”

  Munger suddenly yelled. “Sir, a Stubby has appeared out of nowhere over Idaho according to NORAD radar.” General Straub thought to himself. Could it be the lone survivor over DC which vanished just before the Warthog-OS closed in for the kill? Damn, it’s almost as if that craft generated a mini-wormhole. That would explain its sudden disappearance and simultaneous reappearance. The Warthog-OS pilot did actually see what he reported and not suffering oxygen deprivation. Shit, that craft must have an experimental mini-wormhole device. Otherwise, we would have seen wormhole technology used by the remaining Stubbies in DC before they were destroyed. If the others had it, they would have used it. But why appear near Boise? It’s not a highly strategic area? Maybe the experimental techno
logy can’t be controlled with any accuracy yet.

  “What’s the closest GAF garrison in that area, Munger?” “Sir, there’s a small unit stationed in Boise headed by Captain Matthew Hauser.” “Put him on the horn right now.” “Captain Hauser, here.” “Captain, this is General Straub. A Stubby has suddenly appeared in your area. We need it taken down ASAP. We have no idea of its cargo, whether it is nuclear or biological. It is quite advanced, being able to generate a mini-wormhole, using it to escape hostile fire. Do you have anything available to take it out?” “Sir, our only air capability here is six Blackhawk helicopters with the usual machine guns, small missiles and laser cannons. Our primary focus here has been raids on camps used by the RUSS terrorists.” Damn, thought the General, I need to keep abreast of threats to GAF on domestic soil better. He had heard of RUSS, but had no idea that they had emerged to terrorist threat levels.

  Before he could question Hauser on the nearest airfield with Warthogs, he heard Munger yelling. “Sir, the craft has just landed near the Salmon River.” “Captain Hauser, the Stubby has landed near the Salmon River. We are sending you the exact GPS coordinates right now. Get all six Blackhawks airborne right now and destroy that craft before it can launch anything. How soon can you be there?” “At top airborne speed, we’ll be there in 30 minutes, General.” “Do it now. We are counting on you. God help us. Backups with Warthogs will be sent, but they are not close enough to prevent the launch of missiles or biologicals.” General Straub turned to Munger. “Bring up satellite observation on maximal resolution. We need to see what is going on there.” “It’s already in progress, Sir. Here it is on screen.” The image showed the Stubby sitting near the river bank on a level surface.