by Andy Farman
“Trident One and Two maintain heading and go weapons hot.”
“Roger, Tridents maintaining 220 and going weapons hot.”
The controller began relaying intercept instructions. Going to full afterburner both aircraft accelerated to 1,370 knots, Glenn and Al went through their checklists and armed the weapons before pulling up into a 55-degree climb. Both weapons would be launched to increase the probability of a ‘kill’ on the fast approaching Russian satellite. Glenn was passing through 83400 feet when he heard the tone indicating the ALASATs seeker had acquired a solid lock on the satellite, all he had to do was keep the aircraft at its present attitude and let the computers do the rest. At 84120 feet the lower stage, intended for an AGM 90 SRAM, boosted the ALASAT away from the F-15. Above Glenn the blackness of space beckoned and he almost forgot to close his eyes against the glare of the missiles motor as it raced toward the stygian blackness ahead. As briefed, Glenn banked before throttling back and rolling inverted, allowing gravity to do the rest. At 50000 he pulled back into a gradual decent. Al warned him he was joining with him and Glenn was disquieted to see the other still had his ALASAT.
“Oops.”
Thirty miles from Nellis however the controller had a smile in his voice.
“Trident One, space command reports a solid kill on the target.”
Now that was going to make an interesting entry in his logbook.
White House, Situation Room: 1600hrs, same day
Everyone present stood as the president entered.
“Sit…you’re wasting energy and I don’t know about you people but lack of sleep is making me light headed just walking…don’t look so surprised, it’s the sedan chair bearers day off.” Taking his seat he asked.
“I heard we got a satellite, was it the one we needed to kill?”
Looking up from his notes the CSA told him.
“Unfortunately Mr President there is no way of knowing at this time.”
The President was silent for a moment.
“Did we learn anything from this Zemlya Georga place, any clue as to whether there was a satellite relay to another from the one we took out?”
“We are none the wiser sir, no.”
“And no better informed either it would seem!” The president snapped at him in frustration. He took a deep breath before looking at his CSA again.
“Please accept my apology Joseph that was uncalled for.” The CSA nodded and smiled sadly in understanding.
“Andrea, you’re up, what’s the situation with the raids?” he addressed the FBI deputy Director.
“Sir, all thirty-two operations went off as briefed, we have recovered seven devices and may have solid leads on two more, all the seven we got were near their suspected targets. The others raids were either dry holes, nothing to connect the people we got…at this stage, some of the others were too far from the targets on the list, they may have been moved in preparation for an imminent ‘go’ signal,” taking a breath she read from her notes.
“Sixty two individuals are in custody, we already have their legal beagles becoming vocal,” she looked at the president and stated.
“All suspects are being kept incommunicado whilst they are interviewed; once that is done they will be put into military custody, same as Al-Qaeda.”
The president nodded.
“What’s their make-up, Ben briefed me on the groups, where these people from?”
The deputy scanned the sheets in front of her.
“Five different groups were targeted, four white radical and one Islamic extremist, most we hit on spec using information already in existence to obtain the warrants, the rest under homeland defence warrants. Three of the recovered devices were in the possession of FA people. I’m assuming their targets were New York, San Diego and Tampa. The other four were also white, loosely linked to FA, the Islamics were all negative.”
“I couldn’t care too much about the white trash, personally I think as they wanted to tear up the constitution they should have a taste of what life’s like without it,” he focused on her.
“If all there was on the Islamics was a dislike of their being Muslim then I want them cut loose soonest…ok?”
The DDI updated them all on the worldwide hunt for the devices. “The results tend to reflect the size of the country with how sophisticated their anti-terrorist intelligence make up is. Only twenty-nine recovered worldwide,” he gazed solemnly at the Chief Executive.
“Something of interest though, three more recovered in the UK, large gun battle still going on near Aldergrove airport in Northern Ireland, I suspect someone jumped the gun. One case was recovered at the perimeter; three dead and four wounded security personnel and five terrorists dead or captured so far. They had a remote control, eighties technology and Russian manufacture…according to London the timer on the remote showed it should have detonated already?”
“I assume that the case has not been examined yet, is their team from AWRE enroute?” CSA asked.
“Apparently a ferry has been requisitioned and crewed by Royal Navy personnel, as cases are recovered they are flown there for AWRE to deal with, the ferry is out in the North Sea.”
CSA nodded to DDI.
“Thank you, when it is examined we will know more, whether it is a dud or whether we got the right satellite,” he concluded.
Turning to State.
“What’s happening in London, any transitional problems?” he asked.
“The people woke up next morning with a new government; the story was that the old PM had a breakdown.”
“Won’t they wonder why his deputy didn’t just take over?” asked General Shaw.
“Unfortunately it has been suspected by some and known by others, that the cabinet was kept weak in order that that guy could feel strong,” answered the president.
“In the kingdom of the blind the one eyed man is King,” remarked the general.
“What will happen to him?” he enquired.
Terry Jones answered that.
“Art Petrucci is quite thick with the police commissioner there. The guy didn’t pull the trigger on the officers who were killed but he was prepared to overlook that and the nuclear bomb plot. Moscow passed him a request from that Peridenko guy and as we know he ordered the killings of the two who may have saved all our asses, in order to curry favour. His governments already fallen and a coalition party is at the helm now, so there is no question of sweeping it under the carpet ‘for the public good’. Once this crisis is over the commissioner is going to lean on the Lord Chancellor for a treason charge on top of the conspiracy to murder,” he said before adding, “Our two friends had nothing new for us, by the way.”
“Well at the very least we have our combined thanks for them, and for the ex-PM’s wife also” the president said.
The Secret Service chief cleared his throat before speaking.
“Mr President, getting back to the bombs, there are still seventeen outstanding. I recommend that the listed staff evacuate as per the existing contingency plans and we should do it now.”
The president shook his head.
“No, I’m staying. I want the vice president to go in my place but I want my family out of here. At some time in the next four days a lot of people are possibly going to die. I cannot keep secret what we know and hide. Keeping a lid on this is going to be tough enough without explaining why the Chief Executive is already in a fall-out shelter!”
“Air Force One, Mr President,” corrected Secret Service.
“I know what I meant…jeez!” the president returned in exasperation.
“Okay,” he said after a moment.
“No time like the present, call in Marine One and let’s get the show on the road.”
Enroute to Port Texas: 1823hrs, same day.
Despite the president’s entreaty, someone sent a text message and it snowballed from there. The public was aware of a general threat; it had been in the news for days.
The six possible evacuation
sites were all military targets with reasonably small civilian communities nearby, which is to say ‘small’ as in not city sized. Fort Hood was one, the non-combatants relocated to another military facility, mothballed since the reduction in force program. Their exodus did not affect the combatants on their way to war, as the railroads were the means by which the equipment travelled to the ports. Some troops would go that way too but most would go by air and were heading to the airport for the journey east.
Heck and a small party went with their kit on the train journey in order to assist the loading. 5th US Armoured Division was to be embarked at two ports, close by to one another, separated only by the waterway between, at Beaumont and Texas City. The vehicles and stores went off on more than one train; they went in what the British Forces call ‘Packets’. Heck and his contingent were sad to be leaving America; they had all had a good laugh there, made some good mates but not seen as much as they would have liked of the continent.
Someone, probably a Rifleman or a Trooper called their unit, the Queen Elizabeth Combat Team one night in a bar and the name stuck amongst the Brits. Some of their American cousins however referred to them, unwisely, as ‘Those Queens’ on another night in another bar. As the unit was too small to qualify for a sergeant major in the orbat, the Green Jackets platoon sergeant ‘riffed’ in a series of male, and a female, soldier to face Heck’s displeasure the next day.
“LetRyeLetRyeLetRye…Mark time…HALT…Left turn!” The verdict was the same for each case.
“Do you elect my award or court martial?” None were foolish enough to elect for the latter and all received the same punishment. “Fined one dollar…march out…next case.” A US Army Artillery units commander had been present to observe and he turned steadily more puce with each award. After the last case had been riffed out, the American captain had let rip. His men had been the ones making the defamatory remarks.
“I fined my guys more than that!”
“Well your chaps do get paid more after all,” Heck countered.
Lost for words the captain blurted the first thing that came to mind. “We bailed your asses out twice, in both world wars!”
“On both the first and second test matches you turned up late for the third innings and Germany was ahead by five runs…we’d already taken two wickets…storming googlies at that, and one out for LBW too!”
Totally lost for words but convinced he was in the presence of a lunatic uttering gibberish the artillery captain had departed.
“Well I thought that went rather well, didn’t you?” he asked Tony McMarn and Daniel King who had been sat at the back of the office for ‘Company Orders’. Lt McMarn was eating the edge of his beret to stop laughing and Daniel was mentally burying Anglo American relations.
On this dull grey morning the trains heading for the ports slowed to a halt long before the tracks separated to the north of the cities limits. Waiting is an art soon mastered by servicemen the world over. There was no point worrying about this stoppage, certainly nothing to warrant straying along the track in the drizzle for. If anyone came along shouting about their still being far from the docks, well no matter, they had a train driver to blame and being a civilian was immune to military bollockings and probably deserved shooting for being paid more than them anyway.
Heck, Tony and Danny, who was still ‘tagging along’ as liaison were catching up on sleep, as soldiers do in daylight, with their berets or other head gear over their faces.
Far ahead, a favourite niece of a VIP had been sent a text in the early hours’ to get in the car and drive west ASAP. Within an hour the number of people warned and sworn to secrecy increased exponentially until the local TV and Radio got the word. By the time the first of the trains reached a crossing outside the city there was a panicked mass fleeing the city. A Winnebago ignored the crossing sign and tried to beat the train across the track. The derailed engine sat atop the remains of the vehicle and the family of five occupants. Panicked drivers, road rage shootings and insufficient road widths caused other accidents and hold-ups on the other routes from the city.
Ambulance and Fire & Rescue vehicles tried to respond but were trapped in the lines of slow or non-moving vehicles. The Police didn’t respond as they had no one available who wasn’t already fully committed with the log jammed traffic and looting that had begun.
PLAN Mao, North Pacific: Same time.
The north Pacific was just as inhospitable as it had been since they had come aboard. Captain Hong had sailed these waters and see it far worse, his sailors were all experienced seamen, some with many more years in these waters than himself, he felt himself lucky to have such an excellent company of men. Looking about him he saw that his bridge crew were already gaining in competency, but this was a relatively easy function compared with other areas of the ship, the nuclear power plant department for instance, they were reliant upon the skill of their Russian tutors to run the department and pass on the skills needed to run and maintain it. His Chief Engineer had never seen a nuclear power plant before coming aboard; he spent most of his time with his head in a book and a Russian engineer schooling him. Fortunately the rest of the ship was not so far removed from what his other departments were used to. He was far less certain about his pilots and so were their Russian instructors, the original eight days preparation was highly optimistic, he knew that he had too many pilots barely competent at landing in good weather, in daylight, on the Russian training runway. When he had received his orders to prepare for combat operations in four days he had almost snapped at Marshal Lo Chang over the secure channel when he had requested verbal confirmation. The PRC was not forgiving of its citizens, in uniform or out when it came to refusal or failure, Captain Hong had no option but to apologise for bothering the Marshal once his new orders were confirmed.
The Admiral who was to command the carrier group was enroute to join the ship now, although he had been appointed at the same time as Hong he had not chosen to grace them with his presence until today. Hong was somewhat surprised by the choice of the man, he was sponsored by the defence minister but far from being the most experienced choice to command such an important asset in time of war.
Vice Admiral Putchev came onto the bridge and smiled as he saw Hong.
“Captain, I have come to wish you farewell before I depart. It seems your Admiral does not feel the need for advice, I am leaving on the same aircraft that delivers him.”
Hong was shocked.
“But Admiral, we have still much to learn. Admiral Li has no experience with air operations or carrier tactics!”
Putchev shrugged and watched as an Antonov-140 AWACS was catapulted from the deck.
Hong joined him.
“Sir, Admiral Li has less experience than other officers who could have been given this command.”
“I think you mean that he has managed to attain his rank through influence rather than his seamanship or command abilities, Captain” he looked at Hong.
“True?”
Hong checked that they were not likely to be overheard before he answered.
“True.”
“I have left a report for Admiral Li, stating that you and your crew have surpassed my expectations… but in my opinion are a month short of being combat ready.” Putchev looked aft to observe a SU-27KUB trainer that was making a rather hesitant approach, the daylight was fading fast and that was likely to worry any inexperienced carrier pilot.
“He is too high,” he told Hong. The aircraft was indeed too high; the pilot attempted to correct by throttling back further but sank too fast and poured on power and retracted his tail hook. The Sukhoi touched down and raced the length of the flight deck as the pilot boltered and went around to try again.
“He will likely be worse the next time around, it will be even darker then,” he said aloud.
The next SU-27 pilot however was apparently made of sterner stuff, the approach was smooth and the trap went well, catching the two wire.
“I thought that was one o
f my pilot instructors for a moment.” Putchev said to the Chinese captain.
Hong smiled ruefully.
“Lieutenant Shen, if only all my pilots were such quick learners.” He remarked.
“The lieutenant is a remarkably good pilot Captain, your other pilots are also very good or they would not be aboard this ship, he just learnt faster.”
A messenger saluted and informed them that the two aircraft carrying the new Admiral and his staff were inbound, ETA fifteen minutes.
“I will take my leave of you Captain,” said Putchev “May we all soon live in…less interesting times.”
Hong grinned.
“Until we meet again sir.” holding out his hand.
“Until we meet again,” agreed Putchev, shaking his hand.
Circling around once more to attempt to land, Major Lee was conscious of his instructor sat beside him talking him through it yet again. The SU-27KUB, Korabelny Uchebno Boevoy, the ship borne combat trainer, again followed the pattern.
“Try not think of it as a ship at sea Major, if you can pretend that it’s just a small landing field were some idiot built the tower too close to the runway, it may help.” Lee took a deep breath and began his approach once more.
Lieutenant Fu Shen was standing on the side of the deck to watch his squadron commander when the aircraft handler shooed him away. The deck of an aircraft carrier is a busy and dangerous place, so he entered the island, heading for where he could observe, he arrived in time to see Major Lee catch the four wire.
As the handlers rushed about to clear the deck Shen saw an Antonov An-72 make its approach. Its two high wing turbo-fans made it look top heavy and ungainly, though the man at the controls was obviously a seasoned aviator, as the Americans termed carrier pilots. Smoothly the pilot brought his aircraft in, catching the two wire. To Shen’s disbelief, the AN-72 almost stopped dead in its tracks, instead of a less harsh transition. Time slowed down as the tail section and port wing separated from the rest of the fuselage. The sheared wing hit the deck in a cloud of debris, spilling fuel that ignited before cart wheeling away over the side, burning fuel trailing behind it. Shen continued to watch in horror as the rest of the transport, its remaining engine at full power, stood on its nose gear and accelerated. The belly gear was clear of the deck when the nose gear collapsed and the aircraft flipped over and disappeared after its wing, over the edge of the flight deck.