The president is escorted to the Situation Room. The CIA director, the secretary of defense, the NSA director, the chairman of the joint chiefs as well as Admiral Smith and Generals James Bradley and Victor Sanford are on their feet, expecting him.
“Please, everyone take a seat.” He sits, but barely on the edge of his seat. “First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you. I know this has been a terrible ordeal. We didn’t come out of it one hundred percent, but it could have been so, so much worse. Secondly, I will be speaking to the American people tonight at 8:00.” Once he has this much off his mind, he sags visibly.
“Now we have to get back to work. I need as much information about the whole picture as you can give me. I know that we’re going to take flack on this because of what happened in Oakland. But I believe that the people will understand at some level that we did our best. Right now, that’s all I have to say. I’ll excuse myself to put my thoughts together for tonight.”
Monday, March 29, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Chapter One Hundred One Three Down-One To Go
On board Kilo 102, the first officer, who understands and speaks passable English, is trying to make out a jumble of overlapping messages. He wants to hear whether their missile launch was a success or failure. The amount of radio traffic seems to be substantial, the tone of communications animated. He’s having a hard time making sense of it all.
Then he hears, loud and clear, that a nuclear-armed cruise missile landed in the middle of Oakland, California. He stops. That cannot be. He listens again for further transmission. The first officer starts to radio the captain but finds himself speechless. I can’t have heard correctly. Nuclear weapons? Instead, slowly, mechanically, he crosses from the radio room to the control room, seeking out the captain.
“Our launch was successful, Captain,” he reports, his voice hollow. He pauses.
The captain looks up at him with nervous irritation. “Is there something else to report, number one?”
“Did – anyone tell you that the missile we fired was carrying a nuclear warhead, sir?”
“What are you saying? There was nothing in my orders about nuclear warheads. We were supposed to be firing conventional weapons. Certainly we would have been told…”
Then he hears, loud and clear, that a nuclear-armed cruise missile landed in the middle of Oakland, California. He stops. That cannot be. He listens again for further transmission. The first officer starts to radio the captain but finds himself speechless. I can’t have heard correctly. Nuclear weapons? Instead, slowly, mechanically, he crosses from the radio room to the control room, seeking out the captain.
“Our launch was successful, Captain,” he reports, his voice hollow. He pauses.
The captain looks up at him with nervous irritation. “Is there something else to report, number one?”
“Did – anyone tell you that the missile we fired was carrying a nuclear warhead, sir?”
“What are you saying? There was nothing in my orders about nuclear warheads. We were supposed to be firing conventional weapons. Certainly we would have been told…”
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Chapter One Hundred Missile Mishap
Action on the east coast has not met with any weather problems. The west coast is another story. Above the surface, heavy winds and drenching rains cover the entire northwest, from Canada all the way south to central California.
Naval vessels trying to maintain the vigilant watch they’ve been assigned are bouncing about like corks in a pond. Aircraft flying over the given parameters have their own set of problems.
The USS Hawkeye DDG 94 is maintaining her station on the most northern point of the picket line. Her radar picks up the launching of a cruise missile from Kilo 102.
Captain Jesse Meyers runs from the bridge down to the combat information center.
“Missile launch identified,” he says, keeping his voice as controlled as possible, under the circumstances. “Get fire control ready to create a solution.”
“Aye, sir,” responds the watch officer.
“Fire Control, CIC. We have a missile launched from below the surface at 325 degrees, range fifty miles.”
Fire control officers and sailors work feverishly to create a firing solution on the radar blip they have just identified as a cruise missile heading inbound toward San Francisco.
As the turret for the Sparrow missiles begins to turn, a complete systems failure occurs. The control officer tries three more times. Each time, the turret fails to respond.
“Captain, we have a systems failure on the Sparrow launcher,” yells the Fire Control officer from the other end of the CIC.
“What do you mean, systems failure?”
“Everything just shut down, sir. We don’t know why yet. Someone else better back us up for this shot.”
“There’s an emergency restart on that system. Have you tried that?”
“Yes sir. Three times.”
“I want a report from your crew on my desk as soon as you find the problem.”
The captain grabs a phone which allows him to communicate via satellite with Pacific Command directly.
The phone rings three times, which feels like a lifetime to the frustrated captain. Finally the secretary for Vice-Admiral Kevin O’Rourke answers it.
“This is an emergency. I need the admiral, right now. This is Captain Jesse Meyers of the USS Hawkeye.”
“Yes, sir.”
Almost immediately, the admiral is on the phone. “Captain, this is Admiral O’Rourke.”
“Sir, we’ve detected a missile launch, heading for San Francisco. We are the northernmost vessel of our group and our Sparrow system has failed to operate. Notify land-based command to use their surface-launched ground-to-air missiles to take this thing out.”
“Your current coordinates for the missile, Captain?”
The captain has the watch officer give him the coordinates, which he relays quickly and clearly to the admiral.
“Captain, I want a report from you on why that Sparrow system failed to function.”
“Yes, sir. I do too. You’ll have it, as soon as I do.”
The captain and the admiral hurriedly hang up.
Naval vessels trying to maintain the vigilant watch they’ve been assigned are bouncing about like corks in a pond. Aircraft flying over the given parameters have their own set of problems.
The USS Hawkeye DDG 94 is maintaining her station on the most northern point of the picket line. Her radar picks up the launching of a cruise missile from Kilo 102.
Captain Jesse Meyers runs from the bridge down to the combat information center.
“Missile launch identified,” he says, keeping his voice as controlled as possible, under the circumstances. “Get fire control ready to create a solution.”
“Aye, sir,” responds the watch officer.
“Fire Control, CIC. We have a missile launched from below the surface at 325 degrees, range fifty miles.”
Fire control officers and sailors work feverishly to create a firing solution on the radar blip they have just identified as a cruise missile heading inbound toward San Francisco.
As the turret for the Sparrow missiles begins to turn, a complete systems failure occurs. The control officer tries three more times. Each time, the turret fails to respond.
“Captain, we have a systems failure on the Sparrow launcher,” yells the Fire Control officer from the other end of the CIC.
“What do you mean, systems failure?”
“Everything just shut down, sir. We don’t know why yet. Someone else better back us up for this shot.”
“There’s an emergency restart on that system. Have you tried that?”
“Yes sir. Three times.”
“I want a report from your crew on my desk as soon as you find the problem.”
The captain grabs a phone which allows him to communicate via satellite with Pacific Command directly.
The phone rings three times, which feels like a lifetime to the frustrated captain. Finally the secretary for Vice-Admiral Kevin O’Rourke answers it.
“This is an emergency. I need the admiral, right now. This is Captain Jesse Meyers of the USS Hawkeye.”
“Yes, sir.”
Almost immediately, the admiral is on the phone. “Captain, this is Admiral O’Rourke.”
“Sir, we’ve detected a missile launch, heading for San Francisco. We are the northernmost vessel of our group and our Sparrow system has failed to operate. Notify land-based command to use their surface-launched ground-to-air missiles to take this thing out.”
“Your current coordinates for the missile, Captain?”
The captain has the watch officer give him the coordinates, which he relays quickly and clearly to the admiral.
“Captain, I want a report from you on why that Sparrow system failed to function.”
“Yes, sir. I do too. You’ll have it, as soon as I do.”
The captain and the admiral hurriedly hang up.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Chapter Ninety-Nine Missles Airborne
Everyone stands as, once again, the president enters the Situation Room. President Egan is in no mood for formalities. “Goddammit, sit down, everybody. Admiral, Dean, what have we got?”
Dean Hargrove replies, “We’ve got missiles fired and above the surface inbound on Washington, New York, and San Francisco.”
“What about L.A.?”
“Our vessels reported a major explosion below the surface approximately where we suspected the Kilo to be. We’re assuming some sort of internal explosion.”
The president hesitates before asking the obvious question. “What are our chances of taking those missiles down?”
Before anyone can answer, a Secret Service detail headed by DeWayne Richards comes into the Situation Room. “Sir, my orders are to remove you immediately to a safe location.”
“I understand. Where’s the first lady?”
“Sir, she’s aboard Marine Two and on her way to the same location.”
“Gentlemen, I have no choice but to burden you with finishing this for me and for everyone else out there. God be with us all. Let’s go, DeWayne.”
The words of his chairman of the joint chiefs echo in Egan’s mind as he hurriedly leaves the room. “We will, sir. Be safe.”
Dean Hargrove replies, “We’ve got missiles fired and above the surface inbound on Washington, New York, and San Francisco.”
“What about L.A.?”
“Our vessels reported a major explosion below the surface approximately where we suspected the Kilo to be. We’re assuming some sort of internal explosion.”
The president hesitates before asking the obvious question. “What are our chances of taking those missiles down?”
Before anyone can answer, a Secret Service detail headed by DeWayne Richards comes into the Situation Room. “Sir, my orders are to remove you immediately to a safe location.”
“I understand. Where’s the first lady?”
“Sir, she’s aboard Marine Two and on her way to the same location.”
“Gentlemen, I have no choice but to burden you with finishing this for me and for everyone else out there. God be with us all. Let’s go, DeWayne.”
The words of his chairman of the joint chiefs echo in Egan’s mind as he hurriedly leaves the room. “We will, sir. Be safe.”
Friday, March 12, 2010
Chapter Ninety-Eight Kilos Arrive
It is the fourth day since the beginning of the uprisings on Israel’s borders. The communiqué sent from Iran to the Kilos instructed them to fire their missiles at 2400 hours GMT on the fourth day from a distance of three hundred kilometers from their targets. They were told to only fire one missile, provided the launch was successful. Their instructions explicitly told them not to assess the missile in flight or its impact, just to move out of the area immediately, and of course, they are not to attempt communications until they are two thousand miles from the enemy’s shores. They are to protect the Kilos at all costs. None of the captains know their missiles carry nuclear warheads.
Admiral Smith is conferring with Vice-Admiral Dan Peterson, Commander of the Atlantic Fleet, and Vice-Admiral Kevin O’Rourke, Commander of the Pacific Fleet, from the Situation Room.
Looking at each other on screens providing satellite visuals, Admiral Smith says, “Admirals, what do you know at this point about the locations of the Kilos?”
Admiral Smith is conferring with Vice-Admiral Dan Peterson, Commander of the Atlantic Fleet, and Vice-Admiral Kevin O’Rourke, Commander of the Pacific Fleet, from the Situation Room.
Looking at each other on screens providing satellite visuals, Admiral Smith says, “Admirals, what do you know at this point about the locations of the Kilos?”
Monday, March 8, 2010
Chapter Ninety-Seven Mission Accomplished
Following the Air Force bombardment, the NSA’s satellites seek to assess the damages caused by American missiles and bombers.
Each pass of the three satellites covering Iran shows Bandar Abbas’s naval base in a complete state of havoc. The missiles fired into the base have caused tremendous damage to the naval base itself but limited damage to nearby areas with civilian populations. Each of the known sites of enriching uranium or reprocessing plutonium has suffered catastrophic damage. Planes on the runways of Iranian air bases have been reduced to smoldering wrecks. The air bases themselves will be unusable for a long time to come. Training camps that were targeted are aflame.
John Walker personally views the images of the results from bombing the presidential offices and the Guardian Council building. Each building is totally destroyed. Earlier photos of the Guardian Council building indicate lights on at the very top floor. Since the Council members regularly met there, it is assumed they were there during the bombing run.
John Walker calls the president in the Situation Room. “Mr. Pres’dent, accordin’ to what we‘re seein’ over heah, I’d say we’ve achieved our objective. The devastation appears to be significant.”
“Thank you, John,” says the president, allowing himself to feel a measure of relief. “Now all we have to do is take out those Kilos.”
Each pass of the three satellites covering Iran shows Bandar Abbas’s naval base in a complete state of havoc. The missiles fired into the base have caused tremendous damage to the naval base itself but limited damage to nearby areas with civilian populations. Each of the known sites of enriching uranium or reprocessing plutonium has suffered catastrophic damage. Planes on the runways of Iranian air bases have been reduced to smoldering wrecks. The air bases themselves will be unusable for a long time to come. Training camps that were targeted are aflame.
John Walker personally views the images of the results from bombing the presidential offices and the Guardian Council building. Each building is totally destroyed. Earlier photos of the Guardian Council building indicate lights on at the very top floor. Since the Council members regularly met there, it is assumed they were there during the bombing run.
John Walker calls the president in the Situation Room. “Mr. Pres’dent, accordin’ to what we‘re seein’ over heah, I’d say we’ve achieved our objective. The devastation appears to be significant.”
“Thank you, John,” says the president, allowing himself to feel a measure of relief. “Now all we have to do is take out those Kilos.”
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Chapter Ninety-Six Iran Ablaze
Khasanjani stayed up late enough to know that the Shahab-3 missiles that his forces had fired at Israel have been intercepted by their Arrow II anti-missile system. Damn Jews, their technology always seems to be two steps ahead of us. Yet, he somehow doubts this to be a Jewish counter-attack, not this quickly. His ears refuse to make sense of what he’s hearing.
Fully dressed, he stumbles out of his bedroom and runs right into his wife, who is trying desperately to keep the children quiet and assured that they are safe. “That’s right. Listen to your mother,” their father says, then pushes right past her.
“Doesn’t anyone know what the hell is going on here?” he yells to the only guard in sight. “Get me my driver. I have to get to my office and find out what’s happening.”
Likewise, on the opposite side of the city, the Ayatollah Ahmajid is running like a madman down the stairs of his home, taking two at a time, his head bare – as is his scalp. He hears the sirens, but cannot imagine what’s happening. Israel cannot reach us with their planes and still be able to return safely home from this great a distance. This must be something else, but what?
Ahmajid receives Khasanjani’s third attempt to reach him by phone. “Fadil, what’s happening? The Jews cannot be reacting this quickly to our firing two rockets at them,” Khasanjani shouts into the phone over the noise in the streets. “They would have to have a plan in place. And even if they were planning a strike, it would take time to put into action.”
“I agree, Mahmoud. Calm down. I don’t know anything for sure yet. Maybe this is a reaction to something else altogether. I’m going to try and find out. Call an emergency meeting of the council. I will see what I can learn. Tell them we’ll convene in thirty minutes.”
The Ayatollah runs to the rooftop of his home, and looks about him in all directions. Practically deafened by the sound of ongoing explosions, he realizes that the explosions and fire are all coming from the west. Then it hits him. It is coming from one of our enrichment plants. Has there been a catastrophe at the plant? Is that what we are dealing with?
Fully dressed, he stumbles out of his bedroom and runs right into his wife, who is trying desperately to keep the children quiet and assured that they are safe. “That’s right. Listen to your mother,” their father says, then pushes right past her.
“Doesn’t anyone know what the hell is going on here?” he yells to the only guard in sight. “Get me my driver. I have to get to my office and find out what’s happening.”
Likewise, on the opposite side of the city, the Ayatollah Ahmajid is running like a madman down the stairs of his home, taking two at a time, his head bare – as is his scalp. He hears the sirens, but cannot imagine what’s happening. Israel cannot reach us with their planes and still be able to return safely home from this great a distance. This must be something else, but what?
Ahmajid receives Khasanjani’s third attempt to reach him by phone. “Fadil, what’s happening? The Jews cannot be reacting this quickly to our firing two rockets at them,” Khasanjani shouts into the phone over the noise in the streets. “They would have to have a plan in place. And even if they were planning a strike, it would take time to put into action.”
“I agree, Mahmoud. Calm down. I don’t know anything for sure yet. Maybe this is a reaction to something else altogether. I’m going to try and find out. Call an emergency meeting of the council. I will see what I can learn. Tell them we’ll convene in thirty minutes.”
The Ayatollah runs to the rooftop of his home, and looks about him in all directions. Practically deafened by the sound of ongoing explosions, he realizes that the explosions and fire are all coming from the west. Then it hits him. It is coming from one of our enrichment plants. Has there been a catastrophe at the plant? Is that what we are dealing with?
Monday, March 1, 2010
Chapter Ninety-Five Third Night of the Uprisings
President Egan has the five members of the Senate Armed Services Committee come to the Oval Office. Senators Daniel McGraw from Montana, Theresa Redding from Texas, Douglas Shaffer from Kansas, Timothy Dasher from New York and Mark Lozano from California appear at the appointed hour of noon.
“Senators I hate to impose on your lunchtime. However, it’s vital that we speak at this very moment.”
“Why, may I ask?” Theresa Redding seems more than a bit put out. The president chooses to ignore her confrontational tone.
“For months now, the United States has been fortunate enough to be able to read all communications coming out of and within Iran.” The president pauses for effect.
Mark Lozano asks, “How were we able to do that? Were we able to break their codes?”
Everyone suddenly seems to sense where this meeting is going. Doug Shaffer glares at the president and states, “You mean to tell us that you had first-hand knowledge of that country’s possible intentions of war and you never told us?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you now. What we learned was so vital that we couldn’t afford any leaks whatsoever, anything which might cause the Iranians to alter their code.”
“Mr. President, are you telling us you don’t trust this committee?” Tim Dasher says point-blank in frustration.
“No, Tim, that’s not at all what I’m saying. However, I am saying that telling you might have allowed a leak.”
“Senators I hate to impose on your lunchtime. However, it’s vital that we speak at this very moment.”
“Why, may I ask?” Theresa Redding seems more than a bit put out. The president chooses to ignore her confrontational tone.
“For months now, the United States has been fortunate enough to be able to read all communications coming out of and within Iran.” The president pauses for effect.
Mark Lozano asks, “How were we able to do that? Were we able to break their codes?”
Everyone suddenly seems to sense where this meeting is going. Doug Shaffer glares at the president and states, “You mean to tell us that you had first-hand knowledge of that country’s possible intentions of war and you never told us?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you now. What we learned was so vital that we couldn’t afford any leaks whatsoever, anything which might cause the Iranians to alter their code.”
“Mr. President, are you telling us you don’t trust this committee?” Tim Dasher says point-blank in frustration.
“No, Tim, that’s not at all what I’m saying. However, I am saying that telling you might have allowed a leak.”
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