EndWar

“Exactly. The data’s being reviewed right now. But there’s already speculation that the Russians used the ISS as a platform to take out our satellites. Our missile shield would stop anything they launch with a ground-based trajectory, but they could have smuggled up parts to construct a weapons system and fired it from the station. Could be laser- or projectile-based. We’re uncertain at this time.”

“What do you need from us?” asked President Perreau.

“If the Russians have seized control of the ISS, and if they have a space-based weapon onboard that station, one they could use to take out some of your lasers or our kinetic energy weapons, then we need to strike first.”

“Oh, my God.” Perreau gasped. “You want us to destroy the station?”

“No, if it comes to that, we’ll do what’s necessary. But right now I’ve got a blind spot up in the Arctic, and other stations have reported that the Russians have flown in some reconnaissance and communication aircraft. I need your lasers to take them out.”

General Bankolé frowned deeply. “If I may interrupt. Mr. President, if the Russians have done as you say — smuggled up parts to construct a weapon on the ISS, then why would they use it on two of your more insignificant satellites? Why didn’t they pick the obvious targets: your Rods from God and our lasers?”

“Thirty minutes ago I was sitting here, staring out the window, asking the same question. I don’t know all the details, the science involved. Maybe they couldn’t reposition the ISS to do so. Or maybe they took out the smaller satellites as a test. But believe me, we’re working on it. We’ll get the truth.”

“Well, if you’re right about the test, we should take out the station immediately,” cried Bankolé.

Becerra recoiled. “The political fallout from that… I need proof of what happened up there. My hands are tied until I get it.”

Bankolé’s voice grew more stern. “Madame President, I suggest we direct one of our lasers on the ISS — as a precautionary measure.”

“Mr. President, you will understand if we do that?”

“Absolutely. I’ll send word. But you should be prepared to make a statement to the Brazilians and the Japanese if they discover what’s happening.”

“Of course.”

“And you’ll take out those spy planes?”

“With pleasure.”

“If there’s any change, I’ll contact you immediately. General Bankolé? Capitaine Cimino? Our Joint Strike Force commanders will coordinate with you, as always.”

“Mr. President,” called Bankolé, “I hope that you are compensating for your satellite problem and still keeping a sharp eye on the Arctic.”

“Rest assured, General. We are.”

Becerra said his good-byes and ended the call.

Of course he’d failed to tell Bankolé that they’d now lost contact with one of their subs and were frantically reactivating the old Michigan ELF transmitter to reestablish ELF comms under the Arctic ice. The old system, shut down in 2010, took twenty minutes per character to transmit its three-letter alert.

“Mr. President?” called Mark Hellenberg, Becerra’s chief of staff, from his laptop across the aisle. “Bad news from Paris. We lost General Smith. He was forced to call in a kinetic strike on his position. But the good news is that enemy forces were also destroyed and we’re still holding the line there.”

Becerra nodded, averted his gaze. “Smith was a good man.”

“One of the best.”

“Mark, I have a feeling the Russians are planning something even bigger.”

Hellenberg’s tone grew ominous. “So do the Joint Chiefs.”

EIGHT

“Left standard rudder. Steady three-two-zero,” ordered Commander Jonathan Andreas.

The USS Florida, SSN-805, a Virginia-class nuclear submarine, banked smartly to the left and steadied on her new northwesterly course, the third and final leg to refine the Ekelund range calculation to the target.

Ekelund calculations utilized listen-only sonar bearings to solve an equation: the distance to a target was nearly equal to the speed across the line-of-sight of the target divided by the bearing rate (change of bearing per minute, in degrees).

Andreas didn’t just understand those calculations. As the commander of a nuclear submarine, they were part of his DNA. He liked to compete with the AN/BSY-1, the computer-based combat system designed to detect, classify, track, and launch weapons at enemy targets. It was man versus machine, and he truly appreciated the beauty inherent in mathematical formulas, an appreciation that had taken him far in his military career.