“You know how to make things happen fast, Hector,” Oxley said. “Here’s what I want you to do. You and Marshal Paskevich—starting out as secretly as possible—have to work out a way to get a missile to reach the asteroid and hit it with two nuclear warheads the way Ben just described it.”
“Yes, sir. Question, sir.”
“Okay.”
“Russian warheads, sir? I mean can’t we put our warheads aboard?”
“We go with what we’ve got, Hector: Russia’s missile, Russia’s warheads. And Russia’s launching pad. But, at the same time, we keep our powder dry. Put someone—a solid man—in charge of getting that Intercept Vehicle made so we have a backup.”
“Yes, sir. I have just the guy in mind,” Amador said.
“Okay. As for the Russian launch, I want you to call Marshal Paskevich and set up a meeting place. And, of course, dig into whatever intel we have on him.”
“Sir, I’ll bet he suggests the Plesetsk Cosmodrome. Very up-to-date. Isolated. That’s where the Russians launch their satellites and intercontinental ballistic missiles.”
“Good. Round up a couple of your best Russian interpreters and your intel specialists on Russian nukes and intercontinental missiles. Keep the staff small and take off as soon as possible. We have to hold this as tightly as possible. Communicate only directly with me.”
“Sir, I’d like Dr. Taylor to brief the Joint Chiefs. They’ll have to know why I’m secretly going to Russia.”
“Ben,” the President said, nodding toward Taylor, “do it. You can ride back to the Pentagon with General Amador.”
Oxley noticed that Secretary Winthrop was looking edgy. “Okay, now you, George. You will be running the nation’s response to the biggest disaster in world history. There will be massive evacuations to run and mass casualties to deal with. We need the Department of Defense to run it all—under what I see as benign martial law. FEMA will be under you, not Secretary Edmonds. You’ll get whatever expertise from NASA about that nuke vehicle that you need because NASA will be under you, too.” Oxley looked toward Taylor. “And Ben will be working closely with you on that. Ben?”
“NASA has a Planetary Defense Coordination Office, which keeps a watch on NEOs—near-Earth objects—and plans for various kinds of impacts,” Taylor said. “I know a couple of good people there. I think we should tap into them rather than the administrative people.”
“Good,” Oxley said, addressing Taylor. “And Ben, right now what I need is a concise description of what damage this asteroid can cause. It’s to be a report to me, top secret, not to be made public until I order it, if ever. Your next job will be getting that … vehicle up and running.”
Oxley stood, indicating that the meeting was over. “One last word,” he said. “I must stress the need for absolute secrecy until we are able to reveal not only that an asteroid is likely to hit the Earth—but also that we have figured out how to stop it.”
As he often had done when he held the adviser post before, Falcone lingered for a quick conversation with Oxley.
85
“Glad you’re back on the job, Sean,” Oxley said. “I figured the military is better at keeping their mouths shut than my Cabinet or Congress.”
“I agree with you about using the military, sir. But why not hold any overt moves in abeyance? Why not wait until we see if the asteroid is destroyed before taking all of these actions?” Falcone asked.
“Because every day that we wait may mean that millions of people who could have been saved will die. I can’t wait, Sean. And I see no alternative to martial law. Lincoln used it to save the Union. So will I. If I’m wrong and the damn thing whizzes by, I’ll be accused of being a madman, a dictator who tried to steal the Constitution. Hell, to most of my haters, I’m already guilty of that. No, this is way beyond politics.”
“So, sir, you are definitely going to declare martial law right away?”
“Yes, Sean. You obviously disagree.”
“Yes, sir. I do disagree. I see no reason to invoke martial law at this point.”
“You mean, I should wait until the asteroid hits?”
“No, sir. I mean you should wait until we learn whether the asteroid has been destroyed.”
“We’re back to my belief that I can’t warn unless I can also assure.”
“I believe, sir, that ‘martial law’ only assures that the nation’s military power is massed against the civilian population. And, sir, I feel I am obliged to remind you that by law and long tradition, federal military forces cannot be used against civilians.”
“You’re talking about the Posse Comitatus Act,” said Oxley. “From the nineteenth century. Rutherford B. Hayes. I will be acting under a twenty-first-century law that says I can request that the secretary of defense provide emergency assistance if domestic law enforcement is inadequate to address certain types of threats involving the release of nuclear materials.”
“What?”
“Sean. Nuclear materials will obviously be involved.”
“But, sir, surely the intent—”
“I appreciate your thoughts, Sean. But you haven’t changed my mind. New subject. I’m also thinking of bringing home as many of our overseas troops as we can. So what do you think of that?”
“Check out the logistics, sir. Do they bring home the vehicles, crate up the helicopters and the drones? And what about our troops in NATO? They may well be needed in Europe.”
“On that, Sean, I see your point, but disagree. Our allies will have to survive on their own. But we need to work out a priority list. I want to get troops home. As many as we realistically can.”
“I’ll get George to put together a muster,” Falcone said. “He’s going to draw on a lot of people for information and for planning the evacuations. That means more chances for leaks.”
* * *
An hour later, back in the Residence, Oxley received word from China that Zhang Xing would call as soon as translations were arranged. Another hour passed before Zhang Xing’s interpreter was on the phone.
In the short conversation that followed, Zhang Xing said he had been briefed by Liang Mei and approved the nuclear plan. Oxley told him that the United States and Russia were keeping the asteroid mission secret until all three leaders revealed it simultaneously.
“I’ve told my military advisers that all three leaders will speak to the world when the mission begins,” Oxley said.
“I agree,” Zhang Xing said through his interpreter. “I intend to tell my people to put their faith in their leadership and be prepared for whatever the future may bring our nation.”
“Will you be sending a representative to Russia?”
Again, many words in Chinese. Then the interpreter: “It is our belief that the asteroid mission is in good hands. But we will send an observer group.”
86
Amador’s driver, an Army sergeant, was not surprised. He had often driven the general to the White House and returned to the Pentagon with an additional passenger. This one he recognized and he wondered why the host of Your Universe was getting a ride. Something is up.
“About that intercept vehicle, Ben,” Amador said. “You’ll soon be getting a call from Al Hardwick—Lieutenant General Al Hardwick. He’s not like your typical general—not a guy like me, West Point, full of Army tradition, knowing how to command a division in combat. Being a general. Al came up from the ranks, a kid who enlisted in the Air Force right out of high school from Waterloo, Iowa. Got picked for officer training, didn’t fly much, got into space early and made that his career path.”
“I’ve heard his name but I’ve never met him,” Taylor said. “NASA and the Air Force are two separate worlds.”
“Don’t mind that. Al’s more about rockets and spacecraft than he is about aircraft. He’s much more in your world and is comfortable in your world. Trust me.”
For the rest of the short trip, they talked about the Redskins.
* * *
At the Pentagon entrance, a
n Army captain met Amador. “Round ’em up,” Amador ordered. “The Tank in fifteen minutes. Total secrecy,” which meant that the commanding officers of the Navy, Army, Air Force, and Marines were to leave their deputies behind.
Taylor followed Amador up the stairs to the second level of the E Ring. He filled out the required Invitee Request Form and entered a larger wood-paneled, red-carpeted room. In the center was a highly polished long table.
“We call it The Tank,” Amador said. “Don’t know why. Officially, it’s the JCS Conference Room. When we get together on big issues, we usually don’t have anyone else here. It’s a very secret place.”
Taylor looked around and was about to speak when Amador intuitively said, “Men’s room?”
Taylor nodded.
“You can’t go to the men’s room alone. And, since we don’t have any aides here, I’ve got to be the guy. So just follow me.”
By the time they got back, the other chiefs were filing in. After they had all arrived and taken their places at the table, Amador stood and spoke. He had an easy, warm Missouri accent that merged Southern drawl and mountain twang.
“I’ve just come from the White House, where the President informed me that a large asteroid is on a collision path with Earth in forty days.” Nodding toward Taylor, General Amador continued, “That news had been given to the President by Dr. Benjamin Taylor, who has been working with a scientist from Russia and another from China. They have been looking at ways to prevent the collision and have come to the conclusion that the best way to do this is with a nuclear interception. The President has ordered me to go to Russia and work with my counterpart there.”
After this incredible news, the room instantly fell eerily quiet. Taking a deep breath, Admiral Walter Gibbs, chief of naval operations, asked, “Forty days?”
“Yes, Walt,” Amador replied. “That is the number of days that Dr. Taylor presented to the President. Actually, today is Day Two. Thirty-nine more days. I brought Dr. Taylor here to advise us on what we must do.”
“And Russia, Hector? Russia?”
“That’s right, Walt. Now, please listen to Dr. Taylor.”
Taylor stood and looked down the length of the table at the upturned faces and pretended this was just another lecture about the universe. He decided to start by getting their attention.
“Remember the fireball that zipped across the sky over Chelyabinsk, Russia in 2013? It was an asteroid. It hit the atmosphere traveling in excess of 42,000 miles per hour. Within seconds, it started burning and tearing apart. It exploded with the energy of half a million tons of TNT—about fifty times the energy released by the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima. The explosion created a shockwave that damaged thousands of buildings in six cities across the region and injured 1,500 people who were stabbed by shards of windows shattered by the shockwave.
“No one saw that asteroid coming. It was about sixty-five feet in diameter. The asteroid that is thirty-nine days away from Earth right now is estimated to be somewhere between 1,640 feet and half a mile in diameter. The good news is that we know this one is coming.”
Taylor went on to briefly tell the saga of SpaceMine, Hamilton, Asteroid USA, the three scientists, and the decision to use a Russian missile and nuclear warheads. “We are working on the assumption that the launching of the missile will take place thirteen days from today. And that brings us to today,” he concluded. “As General Amador said, ‘We have thirty-nine more days.’”
As soon as Taylor sat down, Amador stood and said, “The President ordered me to go to Russia, meet with my counterpart, and work on the asteroid mission. I plan to leave tomorrow. I now would like to go around the table for questions and ideas.” He turned to Taylor, shook his hand, and added, “I’m afraid I have to limit this to my comrades, Ben. Thank you for your help.”
Amador walked Taylor to the outer room and told the duty officer to order a car to take Taylor back to the White House. When he returned to The Tank, his first words were: “We’re almost certainly looking at martial law on a national level.”
87
Oxley retreated to the Oval Office, where he could ponder his next moves. He asked Falcone and Winthrop to stand by until the noon meeting. Winthrop headed for the White House Mess for coffee and a sandwich and then went off to find a cubbyhole in the Executive Office Building. There he would work from his briefcase until he joined the officials Oxley was summoning to the Cabinet Room. Falcone went to his own old West Wing office. All traces of Carlton or any other human being had been effaced. He felt that he was in a box, one of the many, many boxes in Washington.
Maybe I’ve been in Washington too long, Falcone thought. Or maybe it was just that I’ve seen a spineless bunch of politicians cut and run from their responsibilities over the years. There’s something about this place that pulls you in.
So many young legislators were lured to Washington by its promise of power and glamour. They professed to their constituents that they hated the city’s false flatteries and pretensions. They promised to remain loyal to their roots and would one day return home. Few ever did, however. Once they inhaled the perfumed aroma of power, and felt the pulse of the city, it was hard to go home to the slow tempo and banalities of small-town life.
Like all of those who came before him, Falcone found Washington to be a place of complexity and contradiction; of ruthlessness and goodwill, of connivance and charm, where good people did things that were hardly good and the bad sometimes surprised you with acts of kindness and courage.
* * *
On his return to the White House, Taylor called Gillespie, who had tried to reach him several times. After telling Gillespie as much about what had transpired in the Situation Room as he could, Taylor asked, “How in hell was it possible for an asteroid to get on a collision course without the Gnats or somebody else at NASA spotting it? Hamilton may have called it Asteroid USA, but it was Janus, and people have been watching Janus for years.”
“We lost track of Janus over two years ago,” Gillespie said. “We were embarrassed, but this shit happens more than we care to acknowledge. You know that, Ben.”
“Yeah. I know,” Taylor grunted, conceding the point.
“And when I found out,” Gillespie added, “I kept quiet. I did what you said. Especially when you mentioned the President.”
“That’s a relief,” Taylor responded. “But I still wonder what happened.”
“All I can say is that we figured losing Janus wasn’t close to being an imminent problem. We—”
“Did you know it was on a collision course for a 2037 impact?”
“No! How the hell did you come up with that? God, there are dozens that could get into a threatening orbit. Janus was on that list. If word got out about losing Janus, even for a short time, Congress would attack us for incompetence. And they’d never admit that they wouldn’t give us more money to put better infra-red detectors in space. You know how those fuckers operate.”
Mindful how he had been grilled when he last testified before the Senate, Taylor said, “I understand, Dick. But, Jesus, you should have somehow gotten someone at NASA to tell the President.”
“Tell him what, Ben? Fuck. You know how you make a prediction and then some new fact comes in, and things change.”
He knew Gillespie was right. He recalled the time that NASA had estimated that a newly discovered large asteroid would come within three million miles of Earth. And then, a few days later, NASA said it might pass 15,000 miles away, within the planet’s ring of geostationary satellites. Well, back to the drawing board, Taylor had thought with a smile when he heard about the drastic change in predictions.
Then he had remembered the old New Yorker cartoon, published during World War II. It showed the man who had said those words looking at a set of blueprints. In the distance was a flaming aircraft that had just crashed. Nothing to smile about.
Taylor let his exasperation play itself out in silence. Without saying more, he terminated the call with Gillespie.
He then joined Falcone in his office and proceeded to write his report for the President. Falcone had called Anna Bartholomew, who remembered him fondly, and got Taylor a blank thumb drive and a laptop detached from any White House digital network. The author of Your Universe and the keeper of the Geneva notes dug into his memory, made some calls to Molly in his museum office, and began writing.…
A large asteroid is on a collision course with Earth. Impact is expected in thirty-nine days. An asteroid roughly 260 feet in diameter can destroy a city; one 525 feet in diameter can destroy a large urban area; an asteroid about 1,150 feet in diameter can destroy a small state like Rhode Island or Delaware; one that is about 2,700 feet in size can destroy a small country like Qatar or Luxembourg.
We believe that the asteroid heading toward us is about a sixth of a mile—about 3,100 feet—in diameter. It threatens life as we know it.
This asteroid may be densely metallic rather than stony. We do know something about one metallic asteroid that struck the Earth 50,000 years ago. It created the Meteor Crater in Arizona. The crater is nearly a mile across and more than 550 feet deep. That crater was made by an asteroid only 150 feet in diameter.…
PART FOUR
Damn you! Damn you! Now you’ve done it:
pushed me through a hole you failed to see,
a cosmic cavity that’s sent me
speeding to end your days.
Fool, was it greed that drove
you to break the rules?
Or sheer arrogance, to believe
that you were chosen to serve
some final purpose, to redeem life
in some realm of perfect light?
In the midnight hour,
never to begin again,
you who live and love
will soon be dead;
your days will end
in wild delirium.
Final Strike--A Sean Falcone Novel Page 37