Nightwatch

Chapter 46

General Lowell Spencer sat dumbfounded before his console in the battle-staff compartment, the abbreviated Milstar transmission from Nightwatch still ringing in his ears. Though he never thought he’d be relying on an unknown master sergeant to deliver a strategic briefing of this importance, this entire situation was unprecedented. It was also extremely disturbing, and Spencer couldn’t help but feel that it had an almost surreal quality to it. Yet reality struck home when the voice of the AGO sounded from his headphones.

“General, I’ve just monitored a rather puzzling VLF transmission from the U.S.S. Rhode Island, acknowledging the receipt of a properly formatted EAM. Since it didn’t originate from us, and because we’re the only TACAMO presently working the Atlantic, it must have come from Nightwatch.”

Spencer ingested this news and fought the impulse to pound his fist into the overhead console. As shocking as it might appear, the threatened coup that he had been warned about appeared to be yet one step closer to fruition. It was completely against NCA protocol for Nightwatch to instigate an EAM without first informing either Iron Man One or the NMCC. And Spencer was beginning to wonder if Trent Warner was still in control of his faculties.

Once more his headphones activated, this time with the voice of their pilot.

“We have some company headed our way. General.

Radar shows a pair of highperformance jet fighters approaching our sector. They appear to be Tomcats, range a hundred miles and rapidly closing.”

Spencer’s stomach tightened; he was well aware that he knew nothing about any such fighter escort. Was it just a routine intercept by a pair of bored jet jockeys, or could there be a nefarious reason for their sudden presence, with Warner the one responsible?

He was unable to forget that the airspace directly above them was one of the supposed targets of attack scenario Yankee Hotel.

Ever fearful that the F-14s had been sent in by the coup supporters to ensure that Iron Man One wouldn’t interfere with the launch by challenging the EAM, Spencer knew that he’d have to act quickly.

“Flight, prepare for an immediate wire-out,” he commanded into his chin mike.

It didn’t take long for Iron Man One to begin a tight racetrack orbit. While the VLF antenna was deployed from the tail of the plane and the amplifiers powered up, he mentally formulated the EAM that he planned to send personally.

Standard nuclear-alert protocol would make it a waste of time to attempt contacting the U.S.S. Rhode Island. Captain Lockwood and his crew had been trained to ignore any alternative flash traffic not originating from the EAM’s original source — in this instance, Nightwatch.

He thus had no choice but to direct his warning to Captain Benjamin Kram aboard the USS. James K. Polk. Spencer would have to relay, in no uncertain terms, the shocking details behind Yankee Hotel, and then pray that Kram would believe him and move in to intercede.

The Folk’s SEAL team would have to be relied upon to use their mini-sub to board the Rhode Island, preferably while the Trident remained on the floor of the continental shelf, completing repairs. It would then be up to these SEALs to convince Lockwood that the EAM from Nightwatch was unauthorized, and that their missiles were in fact targeted on their own homeland.

There were ever so many additional details that remained to be worked out, and Spencer was spurred into action when the flight technician informed him that the power amplifier was up full.

“General,” said the AGO, “we’re ready to transmit.”

Spencer attacked the keyboard. The system’s analyzer automatically formatted his message into code, his efforts given new urgency by the amplified voice of the pilot.

“Tomcats continue to approach. They’ve yet to reply to our comms though we’ve just been painted by their attack radar.”

Spencer cursed his leaden fingers. Sweat began to form on his forehead, and his pulse quickened with the pilot’s next update.

“We’ve just been instructed by the lead Tomcat to halt all VLF transmissions and reel in our wire. General Spencer, how do you want me to reply?”

Spencer ignored this question, trying instead to focus his complete attention on completing the EAM.

“Sir,” cut in his SIOP advisor from the console to Spencer’s right.

“What the hell is going on out there, and why is that F14 ordering us to quit transmitting?”

“Major Childress,” Spencer anxiously replied, “I need just a couple more minutes to complete this EAM; then I promise I’ll explain everything.”

“General Spencer, sir!” exclaimed the pilot’s frantic, amplified voice.

“The Tomcats have threatened to attack unless we reel in our wire at once. Sir, I believe they’re serious.”

“Stall ‘em. Captain!” Spencer ordered into his chin mike.

“Sir,” interrupted his AGO from his console on the opposite side of the passageway.

“For whatever reason, the threat from those Tomcats appears to be real. I recommend immediately ceasing VLF transmission, bringing in the reel, and sorting this thing out before it gets completely out of hand.”

“I concur, sir,” said the SIOP advisor.

Spencer was in the process of detailing the manner in which the Folk’s SEALS could convince the Rhode Island to terminate its launch. He had all but completed inputting this passage, when the intercom filled with the frantic voice of his pilot.

“Incoming rounds!”

This urgent warning was followed by a series of sharp, crackling explosions. The cabin began vibrating so violently that Spencer’s hands slid off the keyboard. There was a sickening feeling in his gut as the aircraft abruptly broke out of its orbit and experienced a sudden loss of altitude. Alarms started going off, and thick, caustic smoke began filling the battle-staff compartment.

Spencer struggled to reach up and put on his oxygen mask, and he had to hold on for dear life as Iron Man One canted over hard on its right side, caught in the grasp of a heart stopping death spiral.

“They’ve shot off our damned wire!” exclaimed the pilot while fighting to keep them in the air.