Strike Force

“Go for it,” Patrick said. Noble switched off both payload control computers, then turned them back on again and let them boot up. As soon as they were back and running, Noble tried again. “The computers look like they’re fine, but your override command is still not letting any other commands to be entered. Should I try to have Elliott send an override command?”

“I already tried that, but let’s try it again now that we’ve recycled the computers,” Patrick said. But nothing happened. The master command code radioed from mission command at Elliott Air Force Base did no good.

“Looks like the master override command was received, but the payload command system is still locked up,” Noble said. He tried several more times but was still unsuccessful. “That’s a bummer, sir,” he said. “It’s coming down and there’s nothing we can do about it. Sorry about that.” He checked some more displays. “Looks like it’s going to hit in central Iran. That’s pretty uninhabited territory — I don’t think it’ll hurt anyone. The Iranians will probably find it, though.”

“If they do, all they’ll find are hunks of metal,” Patrick said woodenly. “You take flight control again and get us ready for deorbit and landing. I’ll report this incident to the Pentagon.”

“You got it, General,” Noble said, and he got to work on entering and checking the computer routine for deorbiting the spacecraft.

SOUTH-CENTRAL IRAN, NEAR ZARAND,

KERMAN PROVINCE

THAT SAME TIME

“Ninety seconds to launch, sir,” the launch control officer announced. “Launch pads are clear. All weapons reporting fully functional.”

“Very well,” Brigadier-General Kamal Zhoram, commander of the Second Rocket Brigade of the Pasdaran-i-Engelab, or Iranian Revolutionary Guards Corps, responded. He smiled and nodded resolutely as he monitored the pre-launch procedures from the command vehicle. Ever since taking command of this operational test unit, he had been driven to succeed, and his vision was finally taking shape. The Shahab series of ballistic missiles represented the cutting edge of Iranian military technology, even more than its fighter aircraft, air defense systems, and submarines. After years of pleading, arguing, and cajoling his superiors for additional funding, the fruits of his labor were ready to be demonstrated this morning.

This missile was the most advanced of the Shahab series now in operation: the Shahab-5, code-named “Takht,” or “throne.” The model being tested today was a three-stage rocket, with two liquid-fueled boosters stacked upon one another plus a small solid-motor third stage. Although Iran never officially discussed details about its military arsenal, when launch tests were scheduled the Shahab-5 was described as a space launch vehicle, and it certainly had the capability of placing a satellite into orbit. But more importantly it was also capable of carrying one thousand kilograms to any target in Israel, the Persian Gulf, half of Africa, most of Europe, and even western China. It was extremely accurate and reliable, thanks to improvements made over the original North Korean Taepodong-2 missile technology.

Although this was an above-ground pad launch, the other three mission-ready Shahab-5 missiles operated by the Iranian Revolutionary Guards arsenal were housed in below-ground hardened silos, which gave them added security and protection from attack…

…which was necessary, because the three ballistic missiles carried nuclear warheads. Iran had purchased Chinese 350-kiloton nuclear warheads from North Korea years ago, along with a variety of test rockets and anti-ship missiles, in exchange for generous oil and natural gas shipments, and had worked for over five years to fit the warheads on the North Korean — derived missiles. With today’s successful test — this missile carried two independently targeted dummy re-entry vehicles — Iran’s intermediate-range nuclear ballistic missile could be declared fully operational, making it the first Islamic country with a nuclear strike capability.

Zhoram glanced up at the last security zone report: it was ten minutes old. A good commando squad could move two kilometers in ten minutes — it was unacceptable. “I want all security zone officers to update their security status immediately.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Update guidance system alignment at zero minus sixty seconds.”

The clock ticked by — it seemed to get slower and slower every second. Finally: “Inertial measuring units updated, alignment is well within Class One tolerances.”

Zhoram went over to the guidance control officer’s console and hit the button that told the difference between the inertial navigation system’s position, heading, and velocity values versus those of the last fix — they were indeed well within tolerances. He checked the master target coordinates and verified them against the flight plan — good, all was in order.

His targets were sets of geographical coordinates in the northern Indian Ocean, about two thousand kilometers downrange. The target area was surrounded by Iranian patrol vessels and warships that would document the test package’s accuracy as well as to keep out any spy ships. But the general secretly hoped that an Israeli or American submarine or spy satellite would be on hand to witness the results of this important test flight, because he knew it was going to be a successful one — and then the world would know that Iran had a powerful, fast-response weapon that could threaten any enemy.

“Very well,” Zhoram said. “Prepare to release batteries on my order.”

There was a brief flurry of activity on another console as the master launch crew ran their checklists, then waited for ready indications from the individual controllers. Normally a Shahab-5 launched via commands issued from the master control vehicle, transmitted by radio with a hardwire fiber-optic cable backup, but each launcher was able to launch independently as well, and they had to be prepared to do so in an instant if communications were cut or jammed. Zhoram watched carefully, making sure all proper procedures were being followed. “Standing by, sir.”

“Send to all units, stand by for launch.” Zhoram picked up the phone datalinked directly via satellite to Pasdaran headquarters at Doshan Tappeh Air Base in Tehran. He listened for the encrypted satellite link to connect, then spoke: “Faraz, Faraz, this is Heydar, Sorush, I say again, Sorush.”

“Reza,” the reply came. “Reza. Acknowledge.”

“Heydar copies Reza,” Zhoram responded. “Out.” He turned to his command-post controller. “Send to all units…”

At that instant there was a loud “BANG!” like a car accident, but ten times as loud, reverberating the walls of the command vehicle. “Sir, lost connectivity with unit…!” There was another loud crunch of metal, followed by a tremendous explosion that shook the command vehicle on its tires.

“Stay at your posts!” Zhoram shouted. “Secure all systems and prepare to move immediately!” The general dashed out of the command vehicle, knowing that it was a violation of procedures to open the pressurized cab, but he had to see for himself what was going on. He stepped into the airlock, sealed the door behind him, donned a chemical weapon protective mask and gloves, un-dogged the outer door, and stepped out…

…into the midst of a raging inferno. The Shahab-5 missile launch pad to the northwest was ablaze, with thousands of liters of burning rocket fuel spreading quickly across the ground in all directions. He picked up the phone inside the airlock: “Move the command vehicle one kilometer to the northeast, and do it now, or you will all roast to death within sixty seconds. Go!” He sealed the outer door to the command cab and jumped clear of the vehicle just as the hydraulic legs began to retract.

How in hell could this happen? Zhoram shouted to himself. They were at least twenty kilometers from the nearest bit of civilization, and they had three hundred security personnel deployed all around this area. It was impossible for any commando to…

…and out of a corner of an eye, he saw it — a flash of dawn sunlight in the sky, directly overhead. He stood, transfixed, as his eyes scanned, then saw another glint of light, even closer this time…headed right for him.

The command vehicle had moved no more than fifty meters away when the object from the sky slammed into it, directly in the center. The metal top of the vehicle splintered and collapsed like balsa wood, then blasted straight up into the sky as the power transformers, backup batteries, and high-pressure air conditioning units inside ruptured and exploded. In seconds, huge belching streams of fire were gushing from the top and bottom of his command vehicle. As he watched, he saw several more objects hit the vehicles again, but of course by that time they were consumed by the immense fireballs that were once his rocket and command post.

They were under attack! Zhoram screamed at himself as he watched his launcher and command vehicles ablaze. Someone had launched some sort of precision-guided weapon at them from above that destroyed them