The decision becomes this-head toward Elmendorf with one good option but an end to our mission, or head toward Shemya with only a few poor options but an outside chance of continuing on.'
'I don't see there's an option, General,' Ormack said.
'We've come this far…'
Elliott nodded at Ormack, silently thanking him. To the crew he said, 'I guess I'm bringing all this up to give each of you another out, another chance to put this bird down.'
'We've given you our answer, General,' Wendy said.
'I know, and I thank you. But you've had a few hours to think about it. I'm putting the question again.'
'I've got a different question,' McLanahan asked. 'How's your leg, General?We can't complete this mission with less than a one hundred percent effort from everybody-you said so yourself. Are you one hundred percent, General?'
'Of course I am. 'Elliott turned and found Orinack looking at him carefully.
'I can handle it, John.'
'He has a point, General. You're worried about us not having the commitment-but do you have the capacity?'
Elliott paused, then spoke into the interphone. 'I won't deny it, crew. My leg hurts like a sonofabitch. But if I didn't think I could get this beast to Kavaznya and back again, well, I would have said so back there when we were over Seattle.
Silence. Then McLanahan spoke. 'All right, General.
That's good enough for me.'
'Me, too,' Angelina said.
'And me,' Luger added.
The entire crew voiced their assent.
'All right, then,' Elliott said, 'do any of you have any brilliant ideas about how we can get enough gas to finish this mission?'
Downstairs in the lower offensive crew compartment McLanahan gave his partner Luger the thumbs-up sign and spoke into the interphone.
'I have an idea, General,' McLanahan asked. 'But it may involve breaking some rules.'
'If there was ever a time to break rules, Patrick, this is it.
Let's hear it.'
'Well, we'll have to call you General Jean Lafitte after this one,' McLanahan said, 'but here's what I had in mind Elliott flipped his radio over to HF TRANSMIT, took a deep breath: 'Skybird, Skybird, this is Genesis on Quebec. Emergency. Over. 'The command post senior controller on duty in the tiny SAC Command post on the tiny island of Shemya, perched nearly at the tip of the Aleutians, had to restrain himself from spilling his coffee as the emergency call blared through his speaker.
Calls over HE especially emergency calls, were few and far between up here at the extreme northwestern tip of the United States of America.
He whipped out a grease pencil and noted the time on the slate of glass covering his desktop.
He switched his radio to HF and keyed his microphone.
'Calling Skybird on HF, this is Icepack on Quebec. Spell your call sign phonetically and go ahead with information.
'We got him,' Elliott said over interphone. Over the high frequency radio, he said, 'Copy you, Icepack. I spell Golf.
Echo, November, Echo, Sierra, India, Sierra, SAC Special Operations.
We are one-eight-zero miles east-southeast of' your station. We have declared an emergency for a double engine fire and fire in the crew compartment. Massive fuel leaks. Request emergency random refueling with strip alerter and emergency recovery at Shemya.'
The deputy controller was furiously writing the information down on a logbook. He opened the classified call signs book.
'Checks,' the controller said to his partner. 'Special ops out of Edwards.'
'So what's he doing way the hell up here?' the senior controller said.
'Call the commander. 'He checked the weather forecast printout on his console, then turned back to his radio.
'Understand your request, Genesis,' the controller replied.
'Shemya is reporting marginal conditions. Can you divert to Anchorage?
Repeat, can you divert to Anchorage?'
'Negative, negative,' Elliott replied. 'Less than one-five minutes of fuel at present rate of loss. No navigation equipment. Magnetic instruments only. We are only estimating our present position.
'Understand, Genesis,' the senior controller said and looked over to his NCO partner.
'Got the boss on the line, sir,' the NCO said. The senior controller grabbed the phone.
'Colonel Sands here.'
'Major Falls in the Command Post, sir. Inbound inflight emergency requesting a strip alert tanker.
'How far out is he?' Sands asked.
'He estimates about one hundred and seventy miles now.
sir. He said less than fifteen minutes of fuel.'
'Hell, we might not make it even if we launched right now.
Who is it?'
'They're using a strange call sign, sir,' Falls said 'Genesis. It's a special ops call sign out of Edwards.'
Sands swore under his breath. Special Operations. An experimental or highly classified mission. But from Edwards'.'
'How's the runway now?'
Slick as owl shit, sir. RCR still about ten. Fifty feet either side of centerline is free of ice to about twelve RCR.Taxiways are about eight RCR.
'Status of the strip alert bird?'
'In the green, sir,' Falls said, glancing over at his assistant.
The NCO cupped his hand over the telephone he was using.
'The crew's being recalled to the pad, sir,' the NCO reported.
'Have them report directly to their plane,' Falls said. He turned to his telephone. 'Crews are responding to their planes, sir.
'Get an authentication from this Genesis,' Sands said.
'I'm on my way.'
'Command post clear. 'Falls opened the communications code book, checked that the date and time were good and turned to his radio.
'Genesis, this is Icepack control. Authenticate Alpha Echo.
Elliott turned to Ormack. 'They want me to authenticate.'
'We don't have any code documents.'
'Unable to authenticate, Icepack,' Elliott replied quickly.
Falls winced. What the hell was going on?
'Genesis, we cannot provide strip alert support without authentication.
'Icepack, this is the senior controller aboard Genesis,' Elliott said over the high-frequency radio. 'The communications compartment has been severely damaged. Half the crew is dead or injured. We have no means to authenticate.'
A few moments later Colonel Sands was wriggling his chubby desk-bound body out of his parka. 'Status?'
'He said he was unable to authenticate, sir,' Falls said.
'Fire inside their crew compartment and communications center, injuries. The senior controller seems to be the one in command.' 'Senior controller?Communications center?Sounds like an AWACS or EC-135-but it's an Edwards call sign?' Sands picked up the microphone.
'Genesis, this is Icepack. Over. 'He bent toward the speaker.
