by Dale Brown
“That means,” Colonel Lafferty interjected, “that we’re only one crew or two planes short of going combat-ineffective—and that’s if Fifth Air Battle Force doesn’t take us all down under PRP anyway.”
Mace shook his head at that acronym—he thought he had heard the last of PRP. The Personnel Reliability Program was established in the early years of the Strategic Air Command to certify crewmembers who handled nuclear weapons in any manner. Each person cleared for nuclear duties had to pass a stringent set of physical and psychological standards in order to be cleared for “special”—i.e., nuclear weapon—duties. Certain serious personal occurrences—illness, taking medication, hospitalization, accidents, a personal or family crisis, anything that might cause a person to “not be himself” in any way—would prompt a commander to “decertify” a crewmember, or remove him or her from nuclear duties. Fogelman was definitely off PRP. Under normal circumstances, Colonel Hembree, the bomber squadron commander, would have certainly taken Paula Norton, Ted Little, Rebecca Furness, and maybe even the other two crews in Furness’ formation immediately off PRP as well, even though none was injured; a close call like theirs might make them a bit reluctant to fly or might distract them from the dangerous job of handling a nuclear-loaded bomber.
There was seldom any hesitation in temporarily pulling a crewmember’s PRP certification—temporary decertification did not affect a crewmember’s career or official records. The safe play was to yank PRP—except when it appeared that the whole world was getting ready to go to war. Unless the crewmember showed clear signs of stress, injury, or emotional trauma, they would be kept on the line getting their bombers ready to fight.
“Okay,” Cole said, “let’s go over the generation so far. I’d like to start with an intelligence briefing. Major Pierce?”
“Yes, sir.” Pierce got to his feet and walked over to a map of Eastern Europe, showing western Russia and the Black Sea region. “As you all know by now, the Russians launched a large-scale air attack against the Ukraine, using low-yield tactical nuclear devices, and they used non-nuclear bombs and cruise missiles against military targets in Romania and Moldova. The goal of the attack was obviously to destroy the Ukraine’s main offensive and defensive air bases, and to cripple Romania’s and Moldova’s military units and stop them from mounting any sort of offensive against the Russians living in the Dniester region of eastern Moldova.
“The reports call it a Desert Storm-type air assault, with AS-4 cruise missiles launched from Backfire bombers and AS-15 cruise missiles carried by Blackjack supersonic bombers, followed up by gravity bomb and short-range missile attacks by Bear and Badger long- and medium-range jet bombers,” Pierce added, putting up a slide of the suspected Russian staging bases, the types and numbers of bombers, and their suspected routes of flight. “Ukrainian air defense stations reportedly engaged the heavy bombers, but they had no chance to stop them. Reportedly a few of the AS-4 and -15 nuclear cruise missiles were shot down by Ukrainian air defenses, but a total of four nuclear detonations were recorded.
“If there’s a bright spot to this horrible attack,” Pierce continued, “it’s the fact that the Russians didn’t use the normal 350- or 200-kiloton nuclear warheads in the AS-4 and AS-15 missiles. They apparently used those rinky-dink RKY-2 devices, which are very small enhanced radiation devices normally used on battlefield nuclear artillery shells. The difference with these devices is that they have no outer shell of uranium to collect and capture neutrons—the neutrons from the first fission explosion are released. Therefore, there are no typical nuclear bomb effects: no gigantic shock wave, no thermal blast effects, no craters, no fallout, no lingering radiation. Their yield is equivalent to about a two-kiloton nuclear device—”
“Neutron bombs,” General Cole muttered. “People-killers.”
“Exactly, sir,” Pierce said. “The neutron stream from the explosion can penetrate unshielded structures with ease. Personnel in shielded vehicles, properly constructed underground shelters, or wearing nuclear-chemical-biological exposure suits are safe, and protected individuals can enter the attack area almost immediately after the detonation.”
“And anyone not in shelters or wearing suits?” Colonel McGwire asked.
Major Pierce shuffled uneasily, checked his notes, cleared his throat, then said, “Within a half-mile from ground zero, death from radiation poisoning will occur within twelve hours. Inside two miles from ground zero, death will occur within three to five days, even with medical treatment, depending on distance and level of exposure. Injuries from burns, shock, overpressure, and flashblindness are common within two miles as well.” The battle staff was too stunned to react. Of all the ways to die, death from massive radiation poisoning had to be the worst conceivable way—slow, painful, and horrible.
“What Ukrainian bases were hit by these … things?” Colonel Lafferty asked.
“Three isolated bases in western and central Ukraine were hit by neutron bombs,” Pierce said, putting up a slide of the Black Sea region and the Ukraine. “L’vov in western Ukraine was hit by a neutron missile. Fortunately the base is several miles outside the city of L’vov, which has a population of almost a million. However, L’vov Air Base is … rather, was … the largest Ukrainian air base except for Kiev, and it had been recently reinforced with more aircraft from Odessa. There could have been five squadrons destroyed in the attack.” Unsaid was the fact that Pierce was talking about five squadrons’ worth of people, about five to six thousand military personnel, since the neutron bomb would have left most of the aircraft intact except those closest to the explosion.
“The central Ukrainian base of Vinnica was hit by one missile, and since the base is very close to the city, here is where we can expect the largest death tolls—possibly close to seven thousand dead or injured, military and civilian,” Pierce continued. “Two, perhaps three fighter and bomber squadrons may have been destroyed.
“Krivoj Rog in east-central Ukraine was hit with one missile as well,” Pierce continued. “KR was a transport base, with two squadrons destroyed and minimal civilian casualties. Also heavily attacked, but not with nuclear devices, was the port town of Belgorod-Dnestrovski, which is the headquarters of the Ukrainian Coast Guard river patrols. The Russians were obviously going after the Ukrainian river patrols that have been intercepting Russian barges and vessels trying to resupply the Russian rebels in Moldova.” Pierce didn’t know if anyone was really listening to him anymore, but he decided to press on and get through this godawful briefing as fast as he could.
“In Moldova, the air attacks were centered on the town of Bel’cy, in northwestern Moldova, which had one Moldovan Army division and was a marshaling area for perhaps four or five Romanian army divisions. Kishinev, the capital, was untouched except for antiradar-missile attacks against Romanian long-range radar systems installed during the buildup.
“Three cities in eastern Romania were hit. Iasi, headquarters of the eastern military district and the headquarters for Romanian military operations in Moldova, was hit very heavily with non-nuclear weapons,” Pierce went on. “Galati, the main air base in eastern Romania, with six fighter and bomber squadrons based there, was the only base outside the Ukraine hit by neutron bombs—the estimated loss of life is near four thousand. Braila, just a few miles south of Galati, had one army division and was a major Romania Coast Guard base patrolling the Danube; it was hit with non-nuclear weapons.”
The immensity of that number simply could not be digested, and nearly everyone at the battle staff conference table shook their heads. Some eighteen thousand people dead, and even more injured—in one attack? How could any nation hope to care for that many injured or bury that many dead? It was too enormous to even think about. And what if it happened in the United States? Against Burlington or Plattsburgh, or New York City or Boston? How could anyone deal with it?
“What is equally interesting about these attacks is what was not attacked,” Pierce concluded. “Kiev, with five fighter and bomber
squadrons and four army divisions, was overflown but not attacked, although it fired a great many air defense missiles and shot down several Russian aircraft and cruise missiles. Odessa, with two fighter squadrons, two army divisions, and the thirty-ship Ukrainian Navy; and Doneck, in the eastern coal mining and heavy manufacturing region known as the Don, with six army divisions, were both untouched. In Romania, the large Black Sea military complex at Constanta, with four fighter squadrons, two bomber squadrons, four army divisions, and Romania’s only blue-water naval base, was untouched.
“All in all, it appears that the Russians went after air forces and specifically stayed away from attacking large troop concentrations and population centers. They obviously understand that air power is very important, that control of the skies is their first priority, and limiting casualties is important for public relations—”
“Public relations?” Cole asked in amazement. “My God, they nuked the Ukraine! I’d say their public relations efforts have gone down the toilet.”
“The best explanation for the use of neutron warheads is that the Ukraine is a powerful opponent and the Russians needed the biggest bang possible out of their big, long-range bombers,” Pierce said. “Put a small-yield nuke warhead on some of the missiles, and your mission effectiveness jumps tremendously. It’s pretty cold-blooded, but it’s an effective way of prosecuting a war. The death toll is going to be very large, but it could have been much worse.”
“Jesus. It’ll be a pretty sad day when nations determine that they can use nuclear weapons to fight a war. Soon every nation on earth will be using them. This was all supposed to have ended with the Cold War. What a joke.”
Daren Mace hoped that no one saw him squirm uncomfortably. Believe me, General, Mace remarked to himself, the Russians definitely weren’t the only ones to think of that idea. What would the U.S. reaction be? If the U.S. government considered the use of low-yield nuclear weapons against a relatively weak foe like Iraq, as they had that opening day of Desert Storm, would the U.S. resort to nuclear weapons if drawn into a battle against a formidable foe like Russia?
“Conclusions, then, Major,” Cole asked. “How much of the Ukraine’s military was destroyed, and what is their current military status?”
“About half of their military force was decimated,” Pierce replied, “mostly their air assets. Although Ukrainian ground forces are fairly intact, with their Air Force so heavily destroyed, I’d say the Ukraine is vulnerable to attack and will not be able to put up much resistance throughout most of the country, with the exception of Kiev, the south, and the Don region—western Ukraine is wide open. Same goes for Romania, although they suffered heavier land forces losses. Conclusion: Moldova can belong to Russia again as soon as Russia is ready to reclaim it, without any interference from the Ukraine or Romania.”
“How about closer to home?” Cole asked. “What have the Russians been doing in North America?”
“Their entire force of Backfire bombers based in Cuba was airborne throughout the attack period,” Pierce replied. “They were not seen with any weapons when they were intercepted over international waters. However, it is now estimated that the Backfires are each armed with six AS-16 ‘Kickback’ short-range attack missiles in an internal rotary launcher. It is now believed that the Backfires were poised for a strike against the United States if one was deemed necessary. The AS-16 missile is an equivalent to our AGM-69 Short-Range Attack Missile, with inertial guidance, a range of about a hundred miles, a top speed of Mach-three, and a circular error probability of about a hundred feet; it probably would’ve been delivered during a supersonic low-level dash inland, with a pretty good chance of success. I think we can assume that the Russians have put RKY-2 warheads on the AS-16 missiles as well. It hasn’t been officially announced yet, but I think we can expect a directive to come down to shoot down any Backfires encountered from now on.”
“I think we’d all agree with that,” Cole said grimly. Now at least they had something to focus their anger on, something to take their minds away from dying men, women, and children in Europe, and back to the task of defending their nation. The Backfires were too close to home, and that fact helped them to concentrate. “Okay, gentlemen, let’s get down to our job. We’ve got a helluva lot of work to do. God help us.”
PART FOUR
It is the habit of every aggressor
nation to claim that it is acting
on the defensive.
—Jawaharlal Nehru
TWENTY-FIVE
L’vov, the Ukraine
The Next Day
“We have begun receiving radio broadcasts from the outside,” Colonel of Aviation Petr Panchenko said. “It is my great pleasure to inform you that although Ukrayina is gravely hurt, the Republic is intact.”
The cheer that rose in that conference room was hearty but a bit strained. Panchenko was presiding over a meeting of the surviving officers and senior enlisted staff of L’vov Air Base in western Ukraine, deep within the base’s underground command center. The twenty men and women attending the briefing were exhausted and stressed to the point of breaking, both mentally and physically, but an observer who knew nothing of the grave situation outside their earth, steel, and concrete walls would never guess the circumstances the soldiers were under. Panchenko, as senior officer, had prescribed normal dress and deportment, even after all outside life-support systems had been cut off shortly after the attack. Clean, shaven faces, clean uniforms, and spit-shined boots were mandatory, supervised by regular inspections, and twice-daily exercise periods were required for all personnel. Panchenko was determined that military discipline be strictly maintained despite the horrible tragedy that faced them.
“As we surmised, the Russian invaders conducted no attacks in the Ukraine south of the forty-eighth parallel, with the exception of Krivoj Rog army transport base,” Panchenko continued. “The reason is simple: more Russians live in the Crimea and Azov regions of the Ukraine than any other. The Don region was untouched, primarily because Russia values the coal and ore mining operations there. The capital received only isolated, non-nuclear attacks to outlying military installations. Obviously, the large number of Russians living in Kiev is the reason for this. So far no foreign troops appear to be marching on the capital, although the M21 highway from Vinnica to Minsk and the M10 highway between Kiev and Moscow across Belarus is closed and is clogged with military traffic.”
One officer sitting at the head of the table beside Panchenko was only half listening to the briefing. Captain of Aviation Pavlo Tychina, looking like a sinister Phantom of the Opera with his sterile gauze mask, sat still, eyes straight ahead, arms at his sides. He did not react at all to Panchenko’s words of encouragement, but remained motionless, lost in his own tortured thoughts. The Colonel had told him that such self-imposed misery was selfish and useless and nonproductive—everyone in that bunker had lost someone close to them—but his words made no difference. Tychina allowed himself to mourn deeply—and propped up those thoughts with ones of revenge. Nothing would keep either of those thoughts out of his head. He had the skill and the desire to inflict great pain on the Russians who staged the preemptive attack on his homeland, and nothing would stop him from—
“Captain?” Panchenko was asking, trying to get his attention. His commander’s voice had a sharp edge. “Your briefing, please.”
Tychina didn’t apologize for his inattention, but stiffly rose to his feet. His audience’s eyes were riveted on him, not only because of his horrible wounds but because of who he was and what he had lost. As Colonel Panchenko had said, everyone lost someone in the hell’s fire above, but somehow Tychina’s loss affected them all.
“Comrades, I was asked by Colonel Panchenko to interface with other surviving aviation elements in the country to catalog the national defense strike units, namely, the MiG-23, MiG-27, and Su-17 fighter and fighter-bomber units,” Tychina began. “Unfortunately, that has been almost impossible. The nuclear explosions aboveground created an e
lectromagnetic disturbance in the atmosphere that until recently has disrupted all normal military communications. The BBC, Voice of America, and Radio Europe report that Ukrainian military units near the capital have been attacked by Russian air raids over the past few hours and that all air defense units in the north have been destroyed or have been rendered non-mission effective. We don’t know the full effect of the nuclear attacks against our base or against Vinnica, but I think we must assume that our forces in the north have been destroyed.
“That leaves the Fifth Air Army in Odessa as the only untouched fighter group. So far I have heard no reports about any air attacks into Odessa, so I assume their units are intact and possibly dispersed,” Tychina continued. It was good that Panchenko made him do all this research and act as a sort of intelligence officer—it helped clear his head, got him thinking tactically again, and helped keep his mind off the disaster that awaited him aboveground: “The Fifth possesses one MiG-27 bomber wing, two squadrons of about eighteen aircraft each. We may be lucky enough to have a few elements of Kiev’s Eighth Air Army who survived the conventional bombing attacks and escaped to Odessa, and we know that as many as twenty MiG-23 fighters from our unit and a few MiG-27 and Sukhoi-17 bombers from Vinnica were airborne and may have escaped the nuclear air raids. Therefore, I estimate that we have a force of approximately one hundred fifty, possibly as many as two hundred fixed-wing strike and fighter aircraft. It is completely unknown at this time how many attack helicopters survived—Odessa had lost one hundred and forty Mil-24 attack helicopters in the Fourteenth Combined Arms Division and at least two hundred Mil-8 combat transport helicopters.”
The group was very silent—they knew the devastation was enormous. The Ukraine had had almost two thousand strike planes and helicopters just twenty-four hours earlier—now they had fewer than five hundred, maybe less. How could they ever hope of mounting any sort of counteroffensive? Except for the use of nuclear weapons, which did not seem to be that extensive, the Russians actually seemed to hold back their concentrated attacks, and three-fourths of the Ukraine’s air force had been wiped out. What could they possibly hope to do?