“Understood.”
Cubit presses his grandfather’s gold pocket watch to his lips as he studies the map.
Commander Dennis circles his finger around the blue dots. “The fleet’s better equipped and much faster than us. While we’ve been plodding along, they’ve been closing the net on the
“Yes, but at what cost? If we can hear them coming, you can bet the farm Covah hears them, too.” Cubit’s eyebrows raise. “But … can he hear us?”
“Sorry?”
“It’s like you said. Old Ironsides here has been slipping around icebergs, plodding along at two to four knots for the last seven hours. Covah may have passed us, but he probably didn’t hear us. I say we keep that advantage.”
“You lost me, Skipper.”
“Look at the map. Covah can’t keep heading south, at some point he needs to change course and move away from the continent.”
“I get it. Instead of chasing the tiger, you want to let the rest of the fleet flush him out—”
“—while we lie in wait … exactly. Now, if you were Covah, which direction would you run?”
The XO studies the map. “
“Agreed.”
“It’s a big ocean, even with all this ice. We’ll need to get a clean shot as close as possible to neutralize those antitorpedo torpedoes.”
Cubit points to the
“Aye, sir.”
Aboard the
Gunnar kicks again, snapping the last of the bed leg’s screws from its iron frame.
Rocky lifts the end of the freed-up frame and slips her handcuffs away from the bunk, holding it up for Gunnar to follow suit. “Okay, now what?”
He studies the watertight door, then scans the cabin.
A sudden lurch sends a sickening feeling into the pit of his stomach.
Rocky feels it, too. “We’re rising—fast!”
The monstrous stingray ascends, the sharp rows of reinforced titanium spikes on its raised spine punching through the six-foot ceiling of pack ice like nails through glass.
Through heavy lids, an inebriated David Paniagua gazes out the scarlet viewport. Massive chunks of ice have piled around the window, obscuring most of his view. A harsh howling wind pounds the Lexan, leaving behind icy diamond dust.
“
Eight of the twenty-four vertical missile silo hatches atop the
—followed by a dense white smoke.
On the overhead display screen, a countdown begins.
10 …9 …8 …
A throbbing, baritone growl rattles the ship.
7 …6 …5 …
Gunnar and Rocky hold each other.
4 …3 …2 …
David drops to his knees and weeps.
1 …
A thunderous roar reverberates across the frozen horizon as the nose cone of the 130,000-pound, three- stage solid-propellant rocket pokes out from its silo and climbs into the dark winter sky, its flame casting eerie shadows across the fragmented seascape of ice.
Aboard the Boeing 747-400 YAL-IA 40,000 feet over the Southern Indian Ocean Antarctic Circle
The Boeing 747 jumbo freight jet, known as the YAL-1A, is one of the most unusual aircraft in the world. Designed and developed by the United States Air Force, Boeing, TRW Space and Electronics Group, and Lockheed Martin Missiles and Space, the wide-bodied aircraft serves as the platform for the Airborne Laser, a tactical weapon designed to track and intercept theater ballistic missiles.
Invented by Phillips Lab back in 1977, the Chemical Oxygen Iodine Laser (COIL) on board the YAL-1A is fueled by hydrogen peroxide and potassium hydroxide, the same chemicals found in hair bleach and Drano. Combined with chlorine gas and water, it produces an excited form of oxygen called Singlet Delta Oxygen (SDO). Iodine is injected into the SDO, further agitating the mix. As the atoms are excited to a semistable state, the light emitted by the atoms increases in intensity as it oscillates back and forth between the weapon’s mirrors. The result—a laser beam, operating at an infrared wavelength of 1.315 microns, invisible to the naked eye.
General Mike Jackson stands behind the row of men seated within the Command Center. The Bear’s heart pounds in his ears, his nostrils flaring with each adrenaline-enhanced breath.
“I’ve got a contact,” the radar technician calls out. “Latitude: 71.6 degrees south. Longitude: 59.05 degrees east—”
“Got ’em,” responds another technician, a baby-faced officer who seems far too young to Jackson. “Baby face” is stationed at the infrared terminal, a tracking system with an advanced infrared focal plane for detecting missile plumes. “Designating first contact Romeo-1—”
“I’ve got two more … and a fourth—”
Bear feels his legs trembling. Millions of lives hang in the balance, perhaps the future of humanity … everything depending upon a 900-million-dollar aircraft and a multimegawatt laser that has never been tested under this type of severe atmospheric conditions.
Jackson knows the key obstacle in perfecting the Airborne Laser has been the atmospheric turbulence produced by fluctuations in air temperature, the same phenomenon responsible for causing the stars to twinkle. Atmospheric turbulence weakens and scatters the laser’s beam. Although the YAL-1A has been equipped with special mirrors designed to compensate for the disturbance, the Airborne Laser is too new to have been tested in all weather conditions.
And Antarctica’s are the absolute worst in the world.
“Sir, Romeos 1 through 8 have entered boost phase. IRST (Infrared Search and Track) system has locked on to all eight targets.”
The massive generator comes to life within the cargo area of the modified 747 jet.
“Ignite the laser,” Colonel Udelsman orders.
“Igniting laser, aye, sir. Targeting Romeo-1”
Bear can actually feel the power of the illuminating laser beacon in his bones as it travels the length of the jumbo jet and floods the plane’s nose cone with energy. A sudden, almost surreal thought—
