“For what it’s worth,” Jamil said, “if the North Koreans try to reach San Francisco their missiles probably don’t have the throw weight to carry both a warhead and decoys.”
“You’re certain of that?”
Jamil nodded. “Reasonably certain. Of course, if they strike at Honolulu or another target that’s not as far as San Francisco, then they could include a set of decoys to spoof the defense.”
“Wonderful news,” General Higgins muttered.
Coggins turned to the admiral sitting across the table from her. “What about the Aegis ships? Can they shoot down the missiles?”
“If they’re in the right position. It’s easiest to spot them when they’re in the boost phase, with their rocket engines still burning. Once the engines burn out and the missile goes into its midcourse coasting phase, it gets harder.”
Coggins nodded uncertainly.
“That’s why we’re rushing two battle groups into the Sea of Japan. Closer to the launch site, so we’ll have more time to shoot at them.”
“They wouldn’t release any decoys in boost phase,” General Scheib added. “The warhead would still be attached to the main body of the missile.”
Higgins said, “So we have your anti-missiles in Alaska and California, and the Navy’s Aegis ships in the Pacific.”
“Heading for the Sea of Japan,” the admiral added.
“And that’s it?” Coggins asked.
General Scheib said, “There is one additional possibility.”
“What?”
“The Airborne Laser. ABL-1.”
“What’s Able One?” Coggins asked.
“It’s a megawatt-plus laser carried aboard a 747 jet. The laser can shoot down a missile—”
“A ray gun?” Coggins asked, her face clearly showing disbelief.
“It works,” Scheib said. “At least, it’s worked in flight tests so far. If they can get close enough to the missile. The laser’s range is only a hundred miles or so, a hundred and fifty, max.”
“So you’d have to get the plane to North Korea for it to be effective,” Higgins said.
“It’s in Alaska right now, for testing under bad-weather conditions.”
“A ray gun,” Coggins repeated.
“It’s a laser,” Scheib corrected. Hunching forward eagerly in his chair, he went on. “Its beam can reach out a hundred miles or so from the plane and hit the missile while it’s in boost phase. Deposit a megawatt or more of energy on a square inch of the missile’s skin for a second or so and it burns through the aluminum skin. The missile explodes.”
“But the missile isn’t standing still for you.”
Scheib let a tight smile crease his face. “That laser beam strikes with the speed of light. Nothing in the universe goes faster. In the time it takes the beam to cover a thousand miles, the missile moves maybe one foot.”
Coggins blinked down the table at the general, absorbing this information. “And the beam blows up the missile?”
“It burns through the missile’s skin and goes through to the propellant tanks,” Scheib replied. “Remember what happened to the space shuttle
“You said the laser plane is in Alaska?” asked Higgins.
“At Elmendorf Air Force Base, sir. The evaluation program calls for tests in a foul-weather environment.”
With a huff, Higgins muttered, “Plenty of foul weather up there, God knows.”
“The plane operates above the weather, of course. Forty-thousand-foot altitude or higher.”
“Then what’s the point of a foul-weather environment?” Coggins asked.
“To make sure the plane can operate under zero-zero conditions. Make certain it can get off the ground and up to its operational altitude no matter what the weather conditions on the ground. ABL-1 has to be able to react to a missile threat regardless of the weather where it’s based.”
“Can you get the plane to a spot where it could intercept the North Korean missiles?” General Higgins asked.
Scheib pecked briefly at the keyboard of his laptop, checked his wristwatch, then looked up. “According to its schedule, it’s just about to take off from Elmendorf for a test flight over the northern Pacific. There’s a four-hour time difference between here and Alaska.”
General Higgins glanced at Zuri Coggins, who nodded.
“All right,” said the general. “It isn’t a test flight anymore. Get that bird to a spot where it can shoot down those goddamned missiles.”
Scheib blinked once. “We’ll have to set up a couple of air-to-air refuelings.”
“Do it,” said Higgins.
“Yessir,” Scheib snapped.
“Without violating North Korean airspace,” Coggins added. “Or Chinese airspace.”
“I understand.”
Coggins gave Scheib an appraising look. “Can your plane do the job?”
The general hesitated for a heartbeat, then replied, “I’ll need a direct communications link to the plane.”
Higgins nodded. “You’ll get the comm link. Can the plane do the job?”
“Yes, sir, I believe it can.”
“It better,” General Higgins growled.
It was a modest split-level house on the cul-de-sac at the end of a quiet, tree-lined street. The Hartunian family had lived in it for nearly sixteen years, ever since their first daughter had been born. Even with the separation and now the divorce proceedings, Sylvia Hartunian had held on to the house. She had raised her daughters here and she had no intention of moving them away from their school, their friends, and the safety of the only home they’d ever known.
Sylvia was a determined woman. She and Harry had been drifting apart for years. At first she thought it was his job at Anson Aerospace. He spent more hours at that laboratory than he did at home. Usually he left for work before the sun came up and arrived home long after the girls had gone to bed. Sylvia had to raise their daughters by herself, just about.
Then Harry started going out to the Mohave Desert. Test operations, he claimed. Classified work; he couldn’t tell her anything about it. He’d be gone for several days at a time. Weekends, sometimes. Sylvia began to get suspicious, but at first she couldn’t picture Harry fooling around with another woman. Harry was a nerd, after all. He was more in love with his damned high-tech hardware than any human being, including her.
As the weeks turned into months, though, and stretched into years, she became convinced it was more than his work that was separating them.
It was when Harry was hospitalized after the explosion at the test facility that Sylvia realized she didn’t really have any feelings for him anymore. She went to the hospital and it was like she was visiting a stranger. She couldn’t even cry about it. She had married an engineer, a man who couldn’t or wouldn’t show his feelings; maybe he didn’t really have any. She’d thought she loved him. She bore him two daughters. But now it was all gone. Turned to ice. He lay there unconscious on his hospital bed, burned and battered, and she felt like she was looking at a stranger.
When he came home to recuperate Sylvia kept her distance from him. She made up the guest room for him
