Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 06

by Fatal Terrain (v1. 1)

  “Any reports about Taiwan’s defense posture?”

  “Virtually nothing from Taipei at all, sir,” the briefer replied. “Lots of reports of Chinese troop movements, but nothing regarding their own forces. No sign of the sixteen F-16 fighter-bombers that hit Juidongshan earlier. AWACS radar planes report formations of fighters, believed to be F-5s, over northern Taiwan, but Air Combat Command and the Navy want to get a better picture of the situation over Taiwan before moving radar planes closer.

  “Now, over to the east, something else broke out between North and South Korea about an hour after the attacks over Taiwan began,” the briefer went on. “The ROK air force detected a ballistic missile inbound from the west-northwest, possibly from the North Korean naval base at Haeju or from a surface ship off the coast. Air defense missile units at Inchon and Seoul successfully engaged and destroyed the inbound. The ROK then reported a second missile headed north over the border. Moments later, a hot nuclear detonation was detected over Wonsan, the army and navy headquarters base in the eastern DPRK. The ROK denies it fired any missiles, although it does admit they returned artillery and rocket fire with the North at many different locations along the DMZ after the nuclear explosion.

  “The ROK is on full military alert, as is the North.” The intelligence officer ran down a summary of the military deployments on both sides— almost two million troops and thousands of tanks, military vehicles, artillery pieces, and rockets were staring at each other all along the 140-mile-long frontier, with about a dozen clashes already breaking out in various parts of the DMZ. “Of course,” the briefer summarized, “all nations in the region are on a high state of alert.”

  “No shit,” Admiral Henry Danforth, the commander in chief of U.S. Strategic Command, gasped aloud. “Any idea at all who launched against the Koreans?”

  “Both sides are denying it, as are the Chinese,” the briefer responded. “We have polled our naval and air forces in the Yellow Sea and western Korean Peninsula region, and no one fired anything—the Navy is conducting an audit of all its forces, but that will be hampered by the alert. We’ve ruled out the Chinese ballistic missile subs—one has been in dry dock for some time, and the other two Chinese boomers are being shadowed by American attack subs, and they report no activity. The only possible explanation is one or two Chinese missiles that were supposed to hit Taiwan somehow veered six hundred miles off course and accidentally hit Korea, but that’s unlikely. We’re still investigating.”

  “Sweet Jesus, I can’t believe it,” Danforth muttered. “China actually went ahead and pushed the button.” Admiral Danforth swiveled around in his seat until he could see General Samson, sitting behind him in the second row of the Battle Staff Room. “Still think we should recommend to the President that we take the bombers off nuclear alert, General Samson?” he asked.

  “Admiral, the invasion of Quemoy, Taiwan, and perhaps even South Korea was going to occur no matter how many nuclear weapons we put back on alert,” Samson said. “The Chinese destroyed an American aircraft carrier, launched a nuclear bombing raid on Taiwan, and I believe tried to instigate a second Korean War by shooting missiles over both North and South Korea—but are we any closer to declaring war on China, let alone a nuclear war?”

  “I think we are, and the National Command Authority apparently agrees,” Danforth said. “Tm recommending to the NCA that we go to DEFCON Three, deploy the ballistic missile sub fleet, put the bombers on restricted alert, and MIRV up all of the Peacekeeper and Minuteman ICBMs.” The fifty LGM-118A Peacekeeper missiles were America’s largest and most powerful nuclear weapon. Headquartered in Wyoming but based in underground silos in Colorado and Nebraska as well, the huge 195,000-pound missiles, when fully “MIRVed up,” could carry as many as ten Mk 21 nuclear Multiple Independent Reentry Vehicles to targets as far as ten thousand miles away. The five hundred LGM-30G Minuteman III missiles now on alert at bases in North Dakota, Wyoming, and Montana carried up to three Mk 12 nuclear warheads.

  “Sir, I believe that would be a mistake,” Terrill Samson said earnestly. “I’ve got to restate my position for the staff.”

  Danforth looked very perturbed—Samson could see a jaw muscle flexing in the dim light of the Battle Staff Room. But CINCSTRATCOM motioned for Samson to step down. “Let’s hear it, Terrill,” he said. Samson gathered up a folder of notes and stepped down to the podium in front of the auditorium-like seats of the Battle Staff Room.

  “Admiral, I’ll be as blunt as I can—the Chinese won’t believe we will use nuclear weapons against them because I don’t believe we would,” Samson said, “and if you can’t make me believe it, they certainly won’t.” “The President, the Secretary of Defense, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, and me say you’re wrong,” Danforth said irritably. “Part of the problem is, General, is that the bombers aren’t coming up fast enough to make the Chinese think we’re serious about putting a nuclear strike force on alert. That’s your responsibility.”

  “With all due respect, Admiral, I think you’re wrong,” Samson said. “The bombers are taking twice as long to come up as we planned because the crews practice all year for conventional bombing missions, but almost never for nuclear missions. The Chinese know this. We are just now discussing moving up the generation schedule for the bombers, several hours after we lose six thousand troops in a nuclear attack—if we were serious about using nuclear weapons, our counterattack would have been launched long ago.” -

  “I don’t appreciate your talking in absolutes about things we have no way of knowing, General,” Danforth said. “Make your point.”

  “Sir, my staff and I have prepared a target list and strike plan for central and eastern China that I would like approval for issuance of a warning order,” Samson said. “I want four B-2s, twenty B-1B bombers, and eight KC-135 or two KC-10 tankers, plus a list of non-nuclear weapons. The target list includes Chinese long-, intermediate-, and short-range nuclear missile sites, known nuclear weapon storage and maintenance bases, air defense sites, and communications centers . . . virtually the same targets we have at risk under the SIOP, sir, but targeted with bombers carrying conventionally armed cruise missiles, precision-guided cruise missiles, and satellite-guided gravity bombs.

  “We can halt the SIOP generation of the bombers I need and reconfigure them easily for the conventional mission,” Samson continued. “I plan to launch all twenty-four aircraft, pick the best twelve and have them continue to their targets, and recover the remaining twelve on Guam for refueling and launch them as a follow-on attack. Within twenty-four hours, we can have the bombers launched; within eighteen hours, the bombers will be striking targets in China and recovering at Guam, ready to begin round-the-clock attack operations. Commit the remainder of the bombers, and we can begin surge operations that can hold China’s entire military at risk and even assist in air operations over North Korea at the same time if needed. I can guarantee—”

  “Frankly, General Samson, your management of the Air Force bomber fleet up to this point has been something far less than adequate,” Danforth interrupted, with a definite note of exasperation in his voice, “and I don’t think you’re in a position to guarantee anything.”

  “Sir, I feel that your current deployment of the bomber force is a waste of time, money, and manpower, and will do nothing to resolve the situation.” Samson could see Danforth bristling with anger, but decided to quickly press on and say what he thought. “I urge you in the strongest terms to recommend to the NCA and the Joint Chiefs to abandon the nuclear generation and adopt this non-nuclear attack strategy my staff and I have drawn up. More lives and more time will be wasted if you don’t.”

  The Battle Staff Room was quiet, deathly quiet. Danforth sat motionless, a finger on his lips, expressionless. After a few long moments, he sat up and waved to Samson with the back of his hand. “Thank you, General Samson,” Danforth said. “That will be all.”

  “Yes, sir.” Samson picked up his papers, left the podium, and headed back to hi
s seat in the Battle Staff Room.

  “I said, that will be all, General,” Danforth repeated. Samson stopped, confused. “What I mean, General,” Danforth said angrily, “is that you are relieved of duty.”

  “What!” Samson exclaimed; then, quickly regaining his composure, he asked, “I beg your pardon, Admiral?”

  “You have failed to carry out your orders to generate the bomber fleet to wartime readiness as directed by the National Command Authority and this command; instead, you have wasted our time by advocating a posture that runs completely counter to orders that originate from the commander in chief himself,” Danforth said. “Further, you don’t seem to have any desire to follow my orders, and you have insulted and disgraced your fellow commanders in this room by your flagrant disregard for your superior officers and their lawful directives. You are relieved of command of CTF Three and are ordered to report back to Barksdale Air Force Base immediately to await further disciplinary action. Have your deputy report to me ASAP. Get out of my command center.”

  Stunned, Terrill Samson turned and headed for the door. He had to wait several long moments for the safelike blast door to be opened by security guards, and he could feel the stares of his colleagues on the back of his head—it was a very uncomfortable period of time until he could be escorted out. He had been fired. For the first time in his long and distinguished military career, he had been fired. Even worse, his commanding officer had said he had “failed”—and that was the worst slap in the face of all.

  ANDERSEN AIR FORCE BASE HOSPITAL, GUAM

  SUNDAY, 22 JUNE 1997, 0745 HOURS LOCAL (SATURDAY, 21 JUNE, 1845 HOURS ET)

  It was no great surprise when Patrick McLanahan entered Brad Elliott’s hospital room fifteen minutes before official visiting hours began and found his friend and former commanding officer on the phone. He looked a little embarrassed when he saw McLanahan’s disapproval. “Get back to me on that right away,” he told his caller, his voice slightly nasal from the oxygen cannula. “Don’t worry about the time—call me back as soon as you get the info.” He hung up.

  “You’re obviously doing much better, Brad,” Patrick said disapprovingly. “The nurses said you ordered the phone turned on ten minutes after you woke up last night.”

  “Don’t start nagging me,” Elliott said with a scowl. “I’m feeling just fine.”

  “You need rest, Brad, not more work,” Patrick said. “You have a secretary and a staff back in Eaker, remember that. Have them take some of the jobs you want done. Or just call me or Wendy—she’ll do whatever you want done.”

  “Okay.”

  Obviously, he hadn’t heard a word Patrick said. He gave him a knowing, sarcastic smile and added, “The nurse said you’re doing good. The clot-busting medication is working—no surgery, not even angioplasty. But she said you’re up at all hours of the day and night making phone calls and watching the news on TV. This has got to stop or you’ll never heal.”

  “All right, all right, I will,” Elliott said.

  “What are you up to, anyway, Brad?”

  “I’m trying to get hold of Samson and Vic Hayes, see what in hell the fleet is doing.” He nodded toward the two TV sets installed in his room, one tuned to CNN and the other to the Armed Forces News Service, which broadcast news and directives to all military units worldwide. “The news said Taiwan attacked the mainland, but then all hell seemed to break loose and there hasn’t been a damn thing since. What do you got?”

  “The attack’s been verified,” Patrick responded. “The Chinese got it on video again and showed it on several international news networks—Taiwanese F-16 Falcons, bombing and strafing the shit out of Juidongshan Naval Base. Successful hit, from what the news said. Maybe a couple subs, headquarters building, a POL farm, air defense sites. They report lots of casualties, but we haven’t seen any on TV.”

  “Shit hot,” Elliott exclaimed happily. “The ROCs have the right idea. Now I just wish we’d get into the game.” He noticed Patrick’s downcast expression. “You heard something else? What?”

  “There was another ROC attack last night on the amphibious attack staging bases near Xiamen,” McLanahan replied. “Much larger strike package—perhaps the remainder of Taiwan’s F-16 fleet.”

  “Great! I didn’t hear anything about it in the news. They kick ass too?”

  “Not exactly,” Patrick said. “Satellite radiation sensors indicate the attack formations were hit by surface-to-air missiles with nuclear warheads. Five detonations were detected, all in the twenty- to fifty-kiloton range, about twenty miles east of Xiamen over Quemoy Island. No survivors.”

  “What!” Elliott exploded. “The Chinese used SAMs with nuclear warheads?”

  “ ’Fraid so,” McLanahan said. “No statement yet from the Chinese government.”

  “They’ll probably say that the Taiwanese fighters were carrying nuclear weapons and they accidentally went off,” Elliott said disgustedly. “If that doesn’t work, they’ll admit that their SAMs had nuclear warheads on them but they were provoked into using nuclear weapons because a thousand crazed Taiwanese attack planes were bearing down on them, assisted by an American stealth bomber, or some crap like that. The damned thing is, the world press will believe them.” Elliott fell silent for a moment; then: “I wonder what in hell Samson and the Chiefs are doing now? We should at least be lining up some strikes against Chinese ICBM or medium-range ballistic missile sites, especially the nuclear sites.”

  “Might be too late,” McLanahan said. “China retaliated against the Taiwan attack—they attacked with nuclear-armed air-launched cruise missiles and medium-range ballistic missiles. Taiwan got blasted all to hell. They’re not a smoking hole in the Pacific, but their big air bases got creamed.”

  “I don’t believe it! ” Elliott exclaimed. A cold chill ran up and down his spine. He remembered the nuclear scares of the past thirty years, but it had never come to an all-out nuclear exchange ... until now. “No wonder I can’t get anything out of anybody. What else, Muck? What else happened?”

  “Looks like someone popped off a couple ballistic missiles over North and South Korea,” McLanahan went on. “Wonsan in the North got hit.” -

  “With a goddamn nuke?”

  “Yep,” McLanahan said. “Looks like we’re one radio call from starting a new war in Korea—and this one might go nuclear or biochemical right away.”

  “Oh, shit, this is incredible! ” Elliott cursed. “We’ve got to get in the ball game, Muck! We’ve got to talk with Hayes or Samson. All I see is this stuff on the news about ballistic missile subs put out to sea—I haven’t heard squat about the bombers.”

  “Samson put them on alert,” Patrick said.

  “Well, no shit,” Elliott said. “But why in hell hasn’t he deployed them here?”

  “They’re on SIOP ground alert, Brad,” Patrick replied. “Samson’s not at Barksdale—the President ordered STRATCOM to stand up the Combined Task Forces. Samson’s at Offutt.”

  “SIOP alert? What beanbrain activated the SIOP?” Elliott thundered. “The Chinese know we’re not going to use nuclear weapons on anyone, especially not a third world country like the People’s Republic of China! We should have launched non-nuclear strikes against the Chinese sub and missile bases by now, knocked out their nuclear warfighting capability. The bombers should have been over their targets hours ago. We don’t need nukes to send the Chinese to the bargaining table. What in hell is Earthmover doing at Offutt, anyway? We could have this thing over with by now. ”

  “Brad, relax,” Patrick said. “Things are quiet right now. Everybody’s backed off to neutral corners.”

  “Oh, sure—after they nuke Taiwan into another dimension! ” Elliott retorted. “How long do you think that’ll last? Not long—probably just long enough for everybody to load up their artillery shells and gravity bombs with nuclear or chemical warheads.

  “I’ll call Samson at Offutt and get him to stop with the nukes, put conventional cruise missiles on the bombers, a
nd start laying down the law to the Chinese before someone starts another nuclear exchange.

  With the Megafortresses already here, we can take care of the radar sites and long-range strategic defenses, if Balboa or Allen haven’t already sent the EA-6 Prowlers in. ” The EA-6 Prowlers were the combined Navy and Air Force medium-range and carrier-based anti-radar planes, able to jam and attack enemy radar and air defense sites. “Maybe I can get some charts and draw up a flight plan so you can have it in the computers ready to go in case we get the word to—”

  “We’re grounded, if you remember, Brad,” Patrick said. “We’ve been doing nothing but getting the damaged bird ready to go and packing up all our equipment before the Navy or the federal marshals seize it. We’ll be ready to depart in a couple days.”

  “No one is going to seize anything, Muck,” Elliott said. “Balboa was just blowing gas.”

  “They’ve got marshals surrounding the hangars and our headquarters, backed up by Navy SPs,” Wendy McLanahan said, as she entered the room just then. She gave Elliott a welcoming kiss. “Nice to see you up and around . . . but the nurse says—”

  “Who said you two could talk to my blabbermouth nurse, anyway?”

  “Never mind that—you need the rest, not more work,” Wendy admonished him.

  “What about the Megafortresses?”

  “Balboa’s for real, Brad,” Patrick said. “We’d probably have been flown back to Washington to appear in federal court already, except for the Independence disaster—air traffic has been shut down completely over the Pacific.”

  Elliott sighed wearily, looking as if all the moisture had been sucked out of his body. Stuck in bed, grounded, facing legal action, and having his prized Megafortresses shut down and one step out of the Boneyard was almost too much for him to handle. He had been calling everyone he knew back in the States, gathering information, asking for favors, trying to find some avenue he could pursue to get the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff off his back and get the Megafortresses flying again, but no one returned his calls. With this new disaster in the Pacific, George Balboa had all the power and influence now. “Dammit, I need to talk with Samson soonest.”