Master Sgt. Mark Holmes, the Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge (NCOIC) of the command post, stood outside the colonel’s office and knocked on the door.
Wilmer quickly pulled his feet off the desk and grabbed a handful of papers. “Enter,” he said angrily.
Holmes walked up to the front of Wilmer’s desk and stood at attention. “Shift change checklist is complete, sir.” He held out an SD card. “This is the recording of all activity from last shift.”
Every piece of equipment in the command post was connected to an IBM mainframe located in a climate-controlled room. Even though the computer was over twenty years old, it was considered “new” in the perennially underfunded Global Strike Command.
Every phone call, computer keystroke, and the operational status of the fleet of LGM-30G Minuteman III Inter-Continental Ballistic Missiles (ICBMs) tucked into silos across the region were recorded onto a high-capacity secure digital card each shift.
Wilmer snatched the card out of his hand then looked at his wristwatch. “Shift change occurs at 0800, sergeant, not 0801. Don’t let it happen again.”
As he unlocked his desk drawer, Wilmer’s phone rang. He picked up the handset, listened for a moment, then said, “Hello, dear…nothing…same old thing. Wait, there’s someone in my office…hang on.” The full-bird colonel cradled the handset against his shoulder and fished an SD card from the drawer. “Here.” He handed it to Holmes then locked the drawer. “Get back to work.” He flicked his wrist and waved his NCOIC away with the back of his hand.
Holmes slammed the door when he left the office.
Before Wilmer could continue, his wife rattled off her newest list of grievances. He listened to the one-way conversation and occasionally nodded. He removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses with his tie. The colonel picked up the remote again and flipped through the channels. Every few minutes he tossed in a “yes, dear.” During a rare moment when his wife was taking a breath, Wilmer interjected, “I got the letter from the promotion board.”
Silence on the other end lasted a mere two seconds. It was broken with a pointed demand. “Well, don’t make me wait all day. Did you get a star or not?”
“The promotion board passed me over again. At my level, it’s either up or out. That means I have four months and seven days to go. But who’s counting.” He flipped channels on the TV while listening to his wife berate him for not making the rank of brigadier general.
Suddenly, the base klaxon sounded. Red lights flashed throughout the command post. Personnel collided with each other as they scrambled to get back to their desks.
Wilmer jumped up from his chair and tried to end the conversation. “I have to go. There’s an alert…Yes, I’ll pick up a gallon…No, I won’t forget.” Finally, he slammed the handset down. Colonel Wilmer ran out onto the floor of the command post and took up his position overseeing the room. “Battle stations!”
Chapter Five
The well-trained staff went to work.
Sergeant Holmes took his position next to Colonel Wilmer. “Stations, report your status,” he barked.
Before they could report, a loudspeaker mounted on the wall blared a startling message. “This is an Emergency Action Message from the National Command Authority. Time is 1509 Zulu. NORAD has detected the launch of a long-range nuclear missile from the territory of North Korea. Target is Los Angeles, California. Estimated time of impact is twenty-nine minutes. Stand by for—”
The loudspeaker went dead.
The large displays at the front of the room flashed then went black.
A second later, the entire room went dark.
Emergency lighting fixtures mounted in each corner of the room kicked in.
“What the hell is going on?” Wilmer asked, with panic in his voice.
“Stations, report your status!” Holmes yelled.
One by one, people in the room announced the bad news.
“Satellite comms are down.”
“Landlines, down.”
“Unable to verify authenticity of EAM with the National Command Authority.”
“Backup generator coming online in one minute.”
Wilmer grabbed a young lieutenant nearby. “Go find General McNeil, and bring him back here immediately.” He looked at his watch. “Check the gym first. He’s probably there.”
The man sprinted off.
Holmes pointed toward the entrance. “Security, close and secure the doors.”
A hulking airman in full battle dress and armed with an M-16 closed the doors to the command post and stood guard outside.
Holmes turned to the colonel. “What are your orders, sir?”
A bead of sweat rolled down his chubby face. “I can’t…I need more information. Get the Pentagon on the line.”
“Sir, all comms are down.”
“Then we’ll wait for General McNeil to get here. He’ll know what to do.”
“Sir, that could take too long. I need your orders now.”
Wilmer began hyperventilating. “The bastards must have decapitated the entire command structure. Oh my God! They’re probably outside the building right now.” Wilmer had a death grip on the handrail. “Start…start the nuclear retaliation checklist.”
All activity ceased. The room went dead silent. The staff couldn’t believe what they’d just heard.
Holmes put both hands up like stop signs. “Slow down, Colonel. We don’t know if the Emergency Action Message is authentic or not. This could be just another exercise testing our response time. Let’s try to contact NORAD and find out what’s going on. I’ll go get my phone from my car and call them.”
No electronic devices, including
