“Weapons system is in the green,” said the copilot.
Breanna had asked Lou and Bullet—the relief pilot and copilot—to run the diagnostics on the environmental and some of the secondary systems from the auxiliary panel on the starboard radar station. Lou came over and told her that aside from some of the lights and the fan in the upper Flighthawk bay, the systems were functioning.
“Coffeemaker’s gone, though. Ditto the refrigerator and microwave.”
“Don’t tell Zen about the coffeemaker,” said Breanna.
“We have to keep his morale up.”
“There’s probably a pattern to the circuits that took the hit,” said the other pilot. “But I can’t quite figure it out.”
“We’ll save it for when we get home,” Breanna told him.
“Give the scientists something to do. How’s your stomach?”
380
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
“Much better. I think some of your twists and turns jerked it back into place.”
The Megafortress contained only six ejection seats. If they had to ditch, two people would have to don parachutes and jump from the Flighthawk bay. Ejecting from the Megafortress in the seats was a harrowing experience—
Breanna had done it and been banged around quite a bit in the process. Jumping out without the benefit of the forced ejection was even more dangerous. The slipstream around the big aircraft was like a violent, flooded creek, completely unpredictable. It might give you a decent push downward and away from the aircraft. Or it could bang you against the EB-52’s long body, smacking you like you a rag doll caught under the chassis of a car.
If it came to that, Breanna knew she would make one of the jumps herself. But how to choose the last person?
She pushed the thought from her mind. It wasn’t going to come to that.
NSC Situation Room
2038, 14 January 1998
(0638, 15 January, Karachi)
JED KNEW THE EEMWBS HAD WORKED AS SOON AS THE FEED
from one of their satellites died. He immediately turned to the screen that showed data from one of the ELINT “ferrets,” or radio signal stealers, just outside of the effected area. The screen did not provide raw data, which would have been meaningless to the people in the room; rather, it presented a line graph of the volume of intercepts on frequencies used for missile control. The line had plummeted.
Jed stared at it, willing it to stay at the bottom of the screen.
But it didn’t. It jerked back up, though only to about a fourth of where it had been.
“What’s going on?” he asked the operator.
END GAME
381
“This is in the northern Arabian Sea. It’s too far from the explosions to affect them. But the target area was wiped out totally. Just about over to the coast—better results than expected.”
“Are the nukes down?”
“I don’t know for sure. Too soon.”
Jed went to the screens showing the U-2 feeds over the Arabian Sea. The display from the northernmost aircraft shocked him: Seven missiles had just struck the Indian aircraft carrier Shiva. The photo captured the exact instant of impact of two of the missiles, and showed two more about to strike.
“That’s the Shiva?” Jed asked.
“Yes,” said the technician.
“Wow.”
“That’ll sink her.”
National Security Advisor Philip Freeman had joined the President and his small entourage at the side of the room.
He came and looked over Jed’s shoulder.
“The Chinese struck the Indians?” he asked.
“Those missiles came from the Abner Read,” said the techie.
“Our missiles?” asked the President.
The man nodded.
Freeman glanced at Jed in alarm.
“They came under attack,” said Jed.
“Captain Gale is certainly living up to his name,” said Martindale. “It’s too late now, Philip. We’ll deal with Storm later. And Balboa, who probably authorized this.”
“I want Balboa’s scalp,” said Freeman. “It’s way past due.”
“Mr. President, Jed—the NSA just picked up a transmission from China for the carrier,” said Peg Jordan, the NSA liaison. “Tai-shan. It’s a go.”
382
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
Aboard the Wisconsin , over India
0645
THE MEGAFORTRESS’S STICK FELT SURPRISINGLY LIGHT IN
Colonel Bastian’s hand, the big aircraft responding readily to his inputs. They were in good shape; while the plane’s electronic systems were offline, Dog could talk to Dreamland Control via the shielded backup radio. When they reached the coast, Major Cheshire would be able to track them via one of the U-2s that was surveying the northern Arabian Sea. She would guide them to Chu and Dreamland Fisher, or all the way back to Diego Garcia if necessary.
A buzzer sounded in Dog’s headset. He said his name and then his clearance code. The system had to process both before the communication was allowed to proceed.
“Colonel Bastian?” said Jed Barclay, coming onto the line.
“Go ahead, Jed.”
“The Chinese have ordered the aircraft carrier to use the nuclear option.”
“All right, Jed. We understand. I’m in contact with the other aircraft and will be right back with you.”
Aboard the Deng Xiaoping,
in the northern Arabian Sea
0645
CAPTAIN HONGWU LOOKED AT THE CABLE AGAIN, EVEN THOUGH
it contained only two characters: Tai-shan.
Much was left unsaid in the cable, beginning with the target. The captain knew it to be Mumbai, the large port on the coast that housed a major naval facility. The cable also did not say why the order had been given, though he knew it would only have been issued if the Indians had ignored the Chinese ultimatum not to fire their nuclear weapons.
END GAME
383
The cable was silent, too, on what the consequences of the action would be. These, Captain Hongwu tried to put out of his mind.
“Clear the flightdeck and prepare the Tai-shan aircraft,”
said the captain. “Launch all aircraft.”
The men on the bridge began to respond.
“Captain, Squadron One is reporting multiple missile strikes on the Indian aircraft carrier,” said the air boss. “The missiles have apparently come from the American vessel.”
“The Americans?”
“It’s the only explanation.”
Without their radar helicopters, the carrier had no long-range sensors. While it was an exaggeration to say it was blind, Hongwu and his officers had a very limited picture of the battlefield.
“Investigate. Send two aircraft to find the precise location of the American ship and keep it under surveillance. Make sure they are prepared for surface attack.”
“Are the Americans our allies now, Captain, or our enemies?”
“Perhaps both,” said Hongwu, staring out at the sea.
Aboard the Levitow ,
over India
0645
THE TEMPERATURE IN ENGINE THREE HAD MOVED WELL INTO
yellow. If she’d had three other good power plants, Breanna would have shut it down, but given their present condition, she decided to push it as far as she could.
Managing 390 knots, the Levitow was still about twenty minutes from the coast. They wouldn’t be out of danger once she got there either—the effects of the EEMWBs wouldn’t quite reach that far, and any aircraft operating on the western coast of Indian and to the south would be a threat.
384
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
“We ought to head farther south,” suggested Stewart. “If we go back to our original course, we can pick up the Flighthawk.”
“It’ll take too long to get into position to join DreamlandFisher and watch the Chinese carrier.”
“We’re not going to be able to do that.”
“What?” Breanna turned toward her copilot.