Target Lock

USS Cunningham, CLA-79, on Buccaneer Station 0803 Hours, Zone Time: August 25, 2008

In the Cunningham’s Combat Information Center, the tactical operations officer spoke from the master fire-control console.

“Sir, T minus thirty seconds to ATACMS launch by time line.”

“Confirm missile status,” Hiro responded. At general quarters, his station was the captain’s chair positioned just to the left of fire control. He was getting more accustomed to it now, but the high-backed swiveling seat with its control-studded arms still inspired thoughts of the starship Enterprise.

“ATACMS bomblet fusing is set to mission parameters. ATACMS targeting coordinates set to mission parameters. ATACMS flight ready to launch in all aspects,” the TACCO replied.

“Very well. Commence firing on the time hack.”

“Acknowledged, firing on the hack! Seven… six… five…”

Around the CIC, anyone who could spare the seconds for a look fixed their gaze on one of the foredeck television monitors. To date, they had only fired this new weapon in simulations. That had been impressive enough.

“… three… two… one…. Fire one!”

The ordnance-warning air horns blared, a suggestion to anyone still topside that they throw themselves face down on deck now!

A geyser of orange flame spewed from the Cunningham’s forward Vertical Launch System, jetting to the full height of the main mast array. The projectile used by the Army Tactical Missile System was too large to be popped out of its cell in a cold launch. The raving exhaust gases of the missile booster had to be vented upward and out of the silo, the missile climbing into the sky through them.

The cruiser’s frame rattled, and a hint of the screaming shout of power generated by the rocket engine leaked down through the sound insulation. A stumpy yet sleek bulletlike form lifted through the flame on the monitors, guidance fins unfolding at its base. Climbing away swiftly it sucked its inferno up after it.

“… three… two… one…. Fire two!”

A second launch geyser erupted… a third… six in all. Six rounds on the way in thirty seconds. Steering in by a ring laser inertial guidance system, they pitched over toward their target.

Five miles distant, in the USS Carlson’s Combat Information Center, an overlapping string of blue missile-position hacks started to crawl between Buccaneer Station and Crab’s Claw Cape, tracked by the Cunningham’s Aegis radar.

“The Duke confirms six good launches. ATACMS running hot, straight. and normal. Time to target, two minutes twenty-five seconds.”

Christine Rendino was not a conventionally religious individual, but now she prayed to her visualization of the universe spirit. Let her be underground. Please, please, let her be underground!