Acts of War

FIFTY-EIGHT

Bob Herbert actually had two lines open to the White House, just in case one of them went down. Martha Mackall's desk phone and also the cellular phone on his wheelchair were both connected to the office of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Herbert was using the cell phone while Martha listened in on the other line. They were alone now, the night crew having left and the rest of the day team focusing on tensions which were still at a peak in the Middle East.

"Striker has retaken the ROC," Herbert told General Ken Vanzandt. "Request immediate Tomahawk abort."

"Acknowledged and hold," said Vanzandt.

Herbert listened as what he called the "ball and chain of command" made its way from the people at the site, through the military bureaucracy, back to the site again. He would never understand why the soldiers on the scene, the people whose lives were at risk, couldn't simply radio the HARDPLACE abort order to the missile. Or at least to Commander Breen on the USS Pittsburgh.

By this time, Vanzandt should have passed the word to his Naval liaison. With any luck, he would call the submarine directly. And promptly. The missile was due to strike in just over two minutes, and there was no window for error or delay. The time it would take a member of this relay team to sneeze could bring the Tomahawk an eighth of a mile closer to its target.

"This is madness," Herbert grumbled.

"This is a necessary checks-and-balances," Martha said.

"Please, Martha," Herbert said. "I'm tired and I'm scared for our people there. Don't talk to me like I'm a goddamned intern."

"Don't act like one," Martha replied.

Herbert listened to the silence on the other end of the phone. It was only slightly more frustrating than Martha.

General Vanzandt came back on. "Bob, Commander Breen has the order and is passing it to his weapons officer."

"That's another fifteen-second delay—"

"Look, we're moving this as fast as we can."

"I know," Herbert said. "I know." He looked at his watch. "It'll take them at least another fifteen seconds to transmit. Longer if they're—shit!"

"What?" said Vanzandt.

"They can't use a satellite to relay the abort code," Herbert said. "The ROC has a window of interference that's going to screw up the download from the satellite."

Vanzandt echoed Herbert's oath. He got back on the phone to the submarine.

Herbert listened as the general spoke to Captain Breen. He wanted to wheel himself into a closet and hang himself. How could he have forgotten to mention that? How?

Vanzandt came back on. "They realized the satellite wasn't responding and switched to direct radio transmission."

"That cost us some time," Herbert said through his teeth. "The missile's due to impact in one minute."

"There's still a bit of a window in there," said Vanzandt.

"Not much of one," Herbert said. "What'd they pack in that Tomahawk?"

"The standard thousand-pound high-explosive warhead," said Vanzandt.

"That'll take out ground zero plus a fifth of a mile in every direction," Herbert said.

"Hopefully, we can pull the plug well before then," said Vanzandt. "And if we do, then just the missile blows. Not the warhead. The team should be okay."

Herbert felt a jolt. "That's not true. What if the missile blows in the cave?"

"Why would it?" Martha asked. "Why would the missile even go into the cave?"

"Because the new generation of missile operates via LOS," Herbert said. He was thinking aloud, trying to figure out if he was right. "In the absence of geographical data, the Tomahawk identifies its target through a singular combination of visual, audio, satellite, and electronic data. The missile probably won't have visual contact because the ROC is behind a mountain, and the satellite's been shut down. But it will pick up electronic activity — probably through the cave, which is the most direct path. And the missile will go after it along that route. Sensors in the nose will warn it to stay away from everything which isn't the ROC, such as the sides of the cave."

"But not people," Martha said.

"The people are too small to notice," Herbert said. "Anyway, it isn't the impact I'm worried about. It's the abort itself. Even if the order is transmitted in time, it'll come when the missile is already inside the cave. Everything in the cave will be caught in the explosion."

There was a short silence. Herbert looked at his watch. He grabbed the phone to Ishi Honda.

"Private, listen to me!" Herbert said.

"Sir?"

"Take cover!" he yelled. "Any cover! There's a chance the missile's going to abort in your laps!"