Test Pilot's Daughter II: Dead Reckoning

by Ward, Steve

  Bank books, he thought. Without those he was nothing. They were his future and everything wonderful. It was money, lots of money. There was a strange, buzzing sound coming from his bedroom. It sounded kind of like an alarm clock. He got up on his feet and went in to look. As soon as he entered the room, he felt something brush his ankle. He looked down and saw a long strand of monofilament. Suddenly there was a rumbling sound, then a loud Clang. He looked on his nightstand to see a very large package. It was ticking. Before he could think about the image before him, before he could even move, there was a brilliant flash.

  A massive explosion took out half the apartment building killing everyone within a hundred yards. Rhani Hussein was reduced to his atomic number.

  * * *

  Christina could hardly believe the President of the United States would take the time to come to her. The last time she saw Gleason he wouldn’t give her the time of day. She was getting tired of waiting, and the small talk with Michael was making her nervous. Her mind wasn’t in the best shape; she still suffered from flashbacks and memory loss. Worst of all, her ears were still ringing, sometimes so loud she couldn’t concentrate. There was no way she could sleep without some kind of medication, and she worried about the long term side effects. She needed therapy and was smart enough to realize it.

  It didn’t seem possible that she could fly a mission or do any other difficult task for the President or anyone else. But he was coming, and he wanted something. She was clear on one thing; they were within a couple of weeks of a nuclear attack on the United States, and that knowledge alone haunted every waking moment. We will have to return fire. Nuclear holocaust? It was all too much to comprehend.

  As she sat in the front room of the apartment, she could hear an increased level of excitement. The bevy of agents talked into their sleeves. The front door opened, and she was shocked to see two street-bums.

  “What the hell?” Michael asked.

  She turned to one of the bodyguards and asked, “What are they doing here?”

  “Hold on there, not what you think,” one of the bums replied.

  The two men ripped off their old, beat up sun glasses and scraggly hair. Christina was shocked to see Director Scott and President Gleason underneath the tattered forms. She had to do a double take.

  “How do you like the getup?” asked Scott.

  “Boy that was fun,” Gleason laughed. “Haven’t done that since I was ten. . .Halloween.” They sat down on the couch and dusted off their clothes.

  Gleason looked at Christina and continued, “Sorry for the unconventional approach, but there was no time to arrange normal security, and we had to avoid drawing attention to your hideout. Time is critical, and I needed to talk to you about a little matter of national security.”

  “Why me?” she asked. “Can’t imagine what I could possibly do that would warrant a personal visit.”

  “Well, actually, there is quite a lot. We now have very hard intelligence that the Iranians will launch five nuclear warheads on the U.S. in only two weeks. In addition, the Russians will launch two ICBMs against China. It’s all planned for Christmas day. We even know the launch schedule. The only thing we don’t know is exactly where the missiles are located. It’s all quite complicated. Our main defense has always been the specter of massive retaliation. But apparently the Russians don’t believe I will retaliate if they strike China, and the Iranians are controlled by terrorists. They don’t give a flip if half their people get it. Martyrs every one.”

  “So what do the Joint Chiefs recommend?” Christina already knew the answer.

  “Are you kidding? I’ve got all the top brass up my ass. They’re in total revolt, trying to pull off a Coup d’etat as we speak. They want to force a major preemptive strike. Of course, as long as I remain free and Commander in Chief, they can’t launch without my authorization. Yes, that’s right, the Doomsday Box still exists. Doesn’t get talked about much these days, but I have to personally enter a valid and current code before our own nukes can be launched.”

  “So what are you waiting for?” Christina asked the obvious.

  “Think about it, young lady. If we launch on Iran, or Russia for that matter, hundreds of Russian missiles will automatically unleash, and we will have the scenario so dreaded back in the Cold War, Armageddon so to speak. Although our defenses will take out some of the ICBMs, we won’t get them all, and it will be the end of the U.S. as we know it. Of course, the military thinks otherwise. They believe a first strike will go unopposed, but that’s just nonsense. How can I take such a risk?”

  “But what kind of risk are you taking by letting them get off the first shot?” Michael asked. “What if. . .”

  “Listen bean-head,” Scott butted in, “the President has a multi-tiered defense which is all but foolproof. We know the general areas of their missile silos, and we have drones in the region. If the drones are close enough, they’ll hit the missiles as they emerge. And we’ll have it all on tape.”

  The President finished his argument, “We have Patriot systems at the ready in UKR, Kazakhstan, Turkey and Iraq. They will attack anything that climbs above thirty-thousand feet. If and only if those two layers fail, we will need your help with a tier of orbital DROIDs. Since we know the precise launch times, we can put you in low orbit properly synchronized to attack the suborbital missiles. It’s just a backup you understand, and we feel there’s a very small likelihood it’ll be necessary.”

  “But sir, I’m in pretty bad shape. Those guys worked me over with their own brand of shock therapy, and it seems I’m having trouble with short term memory. Of course, I would treasure the opportunity to fight for my country, but I worry about my mission readiness, psychologically that is.”

  “Well that’s understandable, Christina, and I am so sorry you had to endure such torture, but look what we’re up against. I’ve got to use every tool in my basket. Besides you’ll have plenty of help. Michael here will be there along with a full crew. I need you in that shuttle, because you’re the only person in America who understands everything about DROID. These attack DROIDs haven’t been fully tested, and if something goes wrong, I need someone up there with a lot of knowledge and a cool head.”

  “Shit, we’re only talkin’ two weeks?” Michael interjected. “Can New Hope and all the DROIDs be ready for launch that fast?”

  “We’ll be ready.” Scott said with authority.

  “There’s something else, Christina. I need your help to nail General Wallace and gather prosecutable intelligence. I know it’s a lot to ask, but if we don’t nip this in the bud and fast, I’m afraid they might be emboldened to try and take me hostage, force me to provide the codes. Wallace asked for a meeting tomorrow, and I need you and Michael to go in with a wire.”

  Michael jumped in, “I made it clear to your people that Wallace told us about the coup before. There is only one reason for him to meet with us again, and that’s to get rid of the evidence.”

  “That’s a risk, but this time your security team will be CIA, and they’ll be armed to the teeth. If he tries to pull anything, they’ll be all over him. Also the place will be surrounded. It won’t be possible for him to take you hostage or move you to some other location. Be assured, we can’t afford to lose you at this juncture. I need you both up there with those DROIDs, but I also need to nail Wallace with his own traitorous words.”

  “So let me make sure I get this,” Christina said. “You want us to meet with Wallace and go along as though we were going to help him sabotage the Presidency, take over the Government and blow the hell out of Russia and Iran?”

  “Exactly!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  As they drove into Fort McPherson, Christina felt a chill. She reached over and grabbed Michael’s hand. She never felt comfortable surrounded by military, especially with people like Wallace in charge. They rode in the backseat of a huge, black SUV with two agents in the front seat and six more in another SUV behind. They parked in front of the Judge Advocat
e’s office and entered the building.

  A secretary showed them to the conference room which they knew too well. Two agents remained outside the building, four skulked in the hallway and two accompanied them into the room. She sat down at the far end of the oval table and didn’t have to wait long. Wallace walked in alone and asked the guards to leave the room. She looked at Michael and nodded, and they walked out and closed the door. She took a deep breath and tried not to think about what the last meeting did to her.

  “Well, young lady, we meet again.” Wallace didn’t attempt to shake hands but sat down at the table looking skeptical.

  “Sorry, General, we got cold feet.” She swallowed, all nerves. “Now that we’ve had some time to consider your proposal, we are very concerned about the future of this country. If we don’t strike the enemy first, we’re in deep shit. Let’s not waste any time, how can we help?”

  “What? You think I’m stupid?” Wallace rolled his eyes. “How do I know you’re not setting me up? How do I know you’re not wired? We need your help, but I have to be careful. . .what I say.”

  “Can’t say I blame you, sir, after our last meeting. Okay, there’s no time for cat and mouse. Here, we’ll show you.” She turned to Michael and said, “Lift your shirt, turn around and drop your drawers.”

  He gave her a strange look and hesitated. Christina turned her back and did the same, then pivoted exposing a full frontal panties and bra. Michael followed suit.

  “My Lord,” Wallace grunted, “a little shy aren’t we?”

  She turned her head slightly hoping Wallace couldn’t see the tiny transceivers inside her left ear canal. Every word was being monitored by each agent and twenty more who were outside the guard shack. Christina and Michael covered up and sat back down smoothing out their clothes. “Sorry to shock you General, but I want you to know we mean business.”

  He mostly ignored Michael, “Before we begin, my dear, I need to tell you something you may have a little trouble believing.”

  “Oh?” she asked, thinking to herself, He’s right, I won’t believe a thing he says.

  “Now, brace yourself. . .Director Scott is the one who set you up with the terrorists.”

  “Can’t be, he’s the one who. . .” she replied too quickly. Oh shit, me and my big mouth.

  “I don’t know what lies he’s told you since,” Wallace said, “but I do know he set you both up. He let them know where you were.”

  “But how. . .” Michael couldn’t help himself. “Why would he do that? Christina is one of his most valuable assets.”

  “You don’t know the Director. He hates the very idea of female astronauts, but that’s not why he did it.”

  Christina gave him a puzzled look, but she was afraid to say anything and blow her cover. She wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but it wasn’t going as planned. There was something in his voice that sounded credible. She had never trusted the Director and was certain he figured in somehow.

  “He was trying to get you two out of the way while he made his proposal to the President.”

  “Then why did they only take Christina?” Michael tried to catch him in his own misguided logic.

  “I don’t know,” Wallace continued. “As long as Rhani was alive, the Director was actually playing both sides. Then when he saw what happened to his young protégé, he went to the President with a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “I don’t know the exact amount, but he told the President that if he was allowed to keep some of that cash he’s been hording, he’d share detailed intelligence on the exact time and general location of the missile launches. I don’t know how he obtained such information, but I expect it came through Rhani.”

  “Wait,” Michael jumped in. “You said ‘what happened to Rhani.’ What did happen?”

  “You don’t know?”

  Michael looked at Christina puzzled.

  “Rhani’s dead. Bombed. . .his apartment.”

  Christina took in a deep breath. Her head began to throb. Rhani and the Director? Wallace was making way too much sense. She trusted the Director about as far as she could spit. Struggling to get her mind back on track, she tried to look sincere.

  “Listen General, forget about the Director, and forget about Rhani. We believe Gleason has gone nuts. We got to stand up now, or it’ll be too late. That’s why we’re here. What can we do?”

  “Good!” Wallace brought his hands together. “I’d hoped you might come around. We’re about to ship all our attack DROIDs to Canaveral so they can be mounted in the shuttle. I want you to go with me right now and make sure they don’t pass pre-launch testing. Just do something to the software, whatever you have to do.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” she replied. “Why would we compromise our own weapons?”

  “Gleason is counting on those DROIDs as a shield against ICBMs, which is insane, because you and I both know they’ve not been tested. If they fail prelaunch testing, maybe we can convince him to release the codes for a preemptive strike.”

  “But sabotaging our own weapons, that would be. . .treason,” she said in a hushed tone. She looked to Michael, but he had a blank stare.

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Wallace replied. “If he doesn’t release those codes, it’s going to get ugly, real ugly.”

  “What do you mean?” Michael asked.

  “We’ve got about six days,” Wallace leaned in and whispered. “If we don’t strike both Iranian and Russian silos by then, it’ll be too late. If they launch first, millions of Americans will die. Not a chance in hell our defenses will take out all their missiles. We’ll get some but it only takes one, and this country is finished as a world power.”

  “And what happens if the President doesn’t go along?” she asked.

  “The Joint Chiefs will take matters in their own hands. We can’t strike without the codes from that black box, and only Gleason has access.”

  “So, looks like we’re screwed,” Michael said.

  “No, in that case we’ll have to do the unthinkable.”

  “The unthinkable?”

  “We’ll have to take custody of Gleason and his black box.”

  “And if he won’t give up the code?”

  “He will,” Wallace grimaced and lowered his voice. “Ever heard of water-boarding? We’ll see how long he holds up with his head under water. Believe me, he’ll talk.”

  “You’d torture the President of the United Sates?” She tried to stay cool.

  “Listen young lady, we’re way beyond laws and morality. We have no choice. We must launch before the enemy, or we’re toast.”

  “But do we even know the locations of the silos?”

  “We don’t have to. We know the general areas and a couple of hundred well placed ICBMs will do the trick. Our enemies will be devastated, and it’ll be a long time before anybody contemplates attacking us again.”

  “But what will the world think?” Michael had to swallow his own bile.

  “Who gives a shit?” Wallace screamed. “Screw the World! The World’s not about to eat nuclear warheads, we are! We’ve got to put a stop to this insanity.”

  “I agree,” Christina replied. She really did, and her mind went into high gear. What if he’s right? she shivered. Trying to flush the thought, she continued on script. “So let’s cut the crap, sir. How do you suggest I pull free of security and give you a hand?”

  “Leave that to me.” He sat up straight and brushed something off his medals. “I’ll dismiss your people and replace them with mine. Then we’ll head straight to a warehouse in south Atlanta.”

  Christina turned to Michael and asked, “Are you in?”

  “Uh. . .sure, let’s do it.” He lifted his wristwatch to his mouth and said, “Baker-Baker.”

  There was a quick flash as the conference door blew open. Agents flew in and grabbed Wallace as he struggled. They forced him to the floor, face against the carpet, and put cuffs on his wrists and ankl
es. He strained to look up at Christina with a look of panic.

  “Sorry General,” she knelt down close to his head. “I had to make a tough call, and I’m going with the President. God, help us all. I can only pray Gleason is right.”