Goliath

Rocky feels it, too. “We’re rising—fast!”

The monstrous stingray ascends, the sharp rows of reinforced titanium spikes on its raised spine punching through the six-foot ceiling of pack ice like nails through glass.

Through heavy lids, an inebriated David Paniagua gazes out the scarlet viewport. Massive chunks of ice have piled around the window, obscuring most of his view. A harsh howling wind pounds the Lexan, leaving behind icy diamond dust.

“Sorceress, I didn’t lie. I am your creator. You need me, goddamn it … don’t you ignore me, you—you bitch!”

Eight of the twenty-four vertical missile silo hatches atop the Goliath’s spine pop open. Warm air rises out of the silos, fogging into the frigid night,

—followed by a dense white smoke.

On the overhead display screen, a countdown begins.

10 …9 …8 …

A throbbing, baritone growl rattles the ship.

7 …6 …5 …

Gunnar and Rocky hold each other.

4 …3 …2 …

David drops to his knees and weeps.

1 …

A thunderous roar reverberates across the frozen horizon as the nose cone of the 130,000-pound, three-stage solid-propellant rocket pokes out from its silo and climbs into the dark winter sky, its flame casting eerie shadows across the fragmented seascape of ice.

Aboard the Boeing 747-400 YAL-IA 40,000 feet over the Southern Indian Ocean Antarctic Circle

The Boeing 747 jumbo freight jet, known as the YAL-1A, is one of the most unusual aircraft in the world. Designed and developed by the United States Air Force, Boeing, TRW Space and Electronics Group, and Lockheed Martin Missiles and Space, the wide-bodied aircraft serves as the platform for the Airborne Laser, a tactical weapon designed to track and intercept theater ballistic missiles.

Invented by Phillips Lab back in 1977, the Chemical Oxygen Iodine Laser (COIL) on board the YAL-1A is fueled by hydrogen peroxide and potassium hydroxide, the same chemicals found in hair bleach and Drano. Combined with chlorine gas and water, it produces an excited form of oxygen called Singlet Delta Oxygen (SDO). Iodine is injected into the SDO, further agitating the mix. As the atoms are excited to a semistable state, the light emitted by the atoms increases in intensity as it oscillates back and forth between the weapon’s mirrors. The result—a laser beam, operating at an infrared wavelength of 1.315 microns, invisible to the naked eye.

General Mike Jackson stands behind the row of men seated within the Command Center. The Bear’s heart pounds in his ears, his nostrils flaring with each adrenaline-enhanced breath.

“I’ve got a contact,” the radar technician calls out. “Latitude: 71.6 degrees south. Longitude: 59.05 degrees east—”

“Got ’em,” responds another technician, a baby-faced officer who seems far too young to Jackson. “Baby face” is stationed at the infrared terminal, a tracking system with an advanced infrared focal plane for detecting missile plumes. “Designating first contact Romeo-1—”

“I’ve got two more … and a fourth—”

Bear feels his legs trembling. Millions of lives hang in the balance, perhaps the future of humanity … everything depending upon a 900-million-dollar aircraft and a multimegawatt laser that has never been tested under this type of severe atmospheric conditions.

Jackson knows the key obstacle in perfecting the Airborne Laser has been the atmospheric turbulence produced by fluctuations in air temperature, the same phenomenon responsible for causing the stars to twinkle. Atmospheric turbulence weakens and scatters the laser’s beam. Although the YAL-1A has been equipped with special mirrors designed to compensate for the disturbance, the Airborne Laser is too new to have been tested in all weather conditions.

And Antarctica’s are the absolute worst in the world.

“Sir, Romeos 1 through 8 have entered boost phase. IRST (Infrared Search and Track) system has locked on to all eight targets.”

The massive generator comes to life within the cargo area of the modified 747 jet.

“Ignite the laser,” Colonel Udelsman orders.

“Igniting laser, aye, sir. Targeting Romeo-1”

Bear can actually feel the power of the illuminating laser beacon in his bones as it travels the length of the jumbo jet and floods the plane’s nose cone with energy. A sudden, almost surreal thought—if we miss, I may die, too …

From the proboscis-shaped, nose-mounted turret of the 747-400 freighter, an invisible beam of energy crosses the brisk Antarctic sky at the speed of light—

—planting its lethal, scorching kiss upon the graphite epoxy hull of the first Trident II (D5) nuclear missile.

The laser beam instantly melts a hole in the projectile’s thin skin, igniting the SLBM’s solid rocket fuel into a blazing fireball. The mangled hunk of metal, circuitry, and plutonium lofts high in incandescent splendor before dropping harmless from the sky.

“Sir, Romeo-1 is dead. Targeting Romeo-2.”