were we provoking the Chinese?”
“We weren’t, ” Mikaso said pointedly. “Exploration is allowed within ten miles of the boundaries of the zone, Daniel. Learn your treaties. If you did, you’d know that the Spratly Island agreement not only allows that, but also prohibits a deadly force to patrol the zone. Armed warships must stay on their own side. We’ve seen how the Chinese violated that in the past-the previous incident was just a few months ago. I authorized our forces to protect themselves if the Chinese prepared to attack again, and that’s what they did.” Teguina shook his head. “Why don’t you tell them who we were really protecting? Unless I’m mistaken, it was an A American-financed company who erected the oil platforms in the zone to begin with.” He looked directly at Mikaso: “A company, I believe, Mr. President, run by one of your relatives?” More murmurs went around the room. “That is beside the point. It’s a Philippine company and they had every right to explore the island and the resources on it.” The two men stared at each other. “What about fallout?” another Cabinet member demanded. Mikaso nodded. “That is our first priority. Daniel, you will immediately dispatch National Guard forces to Palawan to assist in the recovery efforts. In fact, I think the people of Palawan would appreciate seeing you there to help in the effort. Use all available transport assets and-” Teguina pushed back his chair and stood up, something he usually did in Cabinet meetings to stress a point. He leaned over the table, looking at the others seated. “I will be honored to help our fellow Filipinos in Palawan, but there’s one point we’ve dismissed too easily: who really launched that missile?” Rumbling went around the table, and Mikaso pointed his finger at Teguina: “Daniel, I don’t know what you’re up to, but it’s not going to work. I resent the dissension you’re trying to create in the middle of a crisis. It-“
“Yes, sit down!” Second Vice President Samar said. Teguina ignored them. “You say that the Chinese are at fault, but what you really meant to say is that it’s not known who’s to blame for the attack. That nuclear explosion could have just as easily been caused by an American nuclear device, either delivered by covert American forces or by Filipino airmen under orders by the American military or Central Intelligence Agency-“
“What are you talking about, Teguina?” Mikaso snapped angrily, his hands and lips trembling as much from confusion and exhaustion as from fury. “Are you that paranoid? There aren’t any nuclear weapons on Filipino soil, no American airmen, and we did not launch any sort of nuclear attack. It was a Filipino vessel that was destroyed, for God’s sake!”
“Do you deny that there are still American Intelligence agents here in the Philippines?” Teguina asked, his eyes darting between Mikaso and Samar. Mikaso hesitated-only for a moment, but the pause was the answer. The Cabinet officers looked at each other, then at Mikaso with undisguised shock. “Then it is true?” one of the Cabinet officers gasped. “The American consulate is still open, ” Mikaso explained, trying hard to ignore the accusing glances, “and yes, I gave permission for several CIA officials to be stationed here.”
“No, Mr. President… “This is outrageous . . . Samar said. Teguina couldn’t believe it-he had stumbled onto something that at least for the moment overshadowed even the nuclear explosion in Palawan. The American CIA had long been blamed for the Philippines’ internal turmoil, and Mikaso’s admission could, even after all American military personnel had left the country, eventually bring down Mikaso’s government. A common fear among the newly “liberated” Philippine government was that America would leave “moles” in place who would report to Washington and who could easily take over the Filipino government and realign with Washing ton in a coup. The Americans had left easily when ordered out-too easily, many thought. . “You did this in direct violation of the law, without consulting your Cabinet or Congress?” the Minister of the Interior asked incredulously. “Why weren’t we informed?” another Minister demanded angrily. As the chorus of other voices rose up in angry protest, Daniel Teguina sat back down in his chair, listening and inwardly smiling. Even in the middle of a crisis there was more than one way to skin a cat. . ELLSWORTH AIR FORCE BASE, SOUTH DAKOTA SAME TIME Generals Calvin Jarrel and Brad Elliott had been waiting on the tarmac for the F-23 fighter pilots returning from their Powder Run sortie. Elliott especially was looking forward to giving the pilots some good-natured ribbing about the surprise they encountered with the EB-52 Megafortress that he’d gotten Jarrel to put in the air. Elliott was willing to bet that McLanahan had gotten a big kick out of seeing the F-23 pilots turn and run. Just then a dark-blue staff car pulled up a few parking spaces from where Jarrel and Elliott were standing. Out of the car came Major Harold Briggs, General Elliott’s aide and chief of security. Plugging his ears with his index fingers, he strode toward Elliott clutching a sheet of paper. He handed it to him. Elliott read the note, and Briggs saw the expression on his boss’s face change. “I’ll take you back in my car, General, ” Briggs said loudly over the whine of the nearby jet engines. “Problem?” Jarrel asked. Elliott showed Jarrel the note, keeping the sheet of paper tight in his fingertips-it was stamped Top Secret on both the top and bottom. “Christ, ” was all Jarrel could say. “I’ll give you a ride back to your command post, ” Elliott said. They hopped in the sedan the second Briggs braked to a stop beside them. In the car, Briggs passed out two red-colored vinyl folders, one to each of them. “Full text of the classified FLASH message for you, sir, ” he indicated to Jarrel. “Message from Colonel McLanahan from the Black Knight bomber sortie.” Elliott frowned at the folder he was given and was about to set it unopened on his lap, but Briggs added, “I think you should read it, sir. I think it might have a connection with the DEFCON Three message. There was silence in the sedan for several moments. Then, as though they were thinking the exact same thing, they handed their folders over to each other. “Holy shit, ” Jarrel finally exclaimed. “This NIRTSat thingyour SPO actually thinks this satellite got pictures of a Chinese nuclear attack against a Philippine patrol?” “Well, God knows it was possible, ” Elliott said. “If they had the N1RTSat up there, and it was over the Philippines at the time, it’s more than possible. That might also explain why the satellite went off the air for McLanahan. Except it didn’t go completely off… the thing was alive long enough to download the last of its photos to McLanahan in the B-2 during his bomb run here.”
“But McLanahan says here the data wasn’t transmitted to SPACECOM…”
“Space Command wasn’t one of the users, ” Elliott said. “They provided launch and orbiting monitoring and had backup-performance telemetry but weren’t scheduled to receive the imagery.” Elliott paused for a moment, then said, “You know, Cal, if you’re in DEFCON Three… “Yeah?” Elliott knew that if Jarrel was going to be in a conventional contingency operation, which was very possible, he would be deploying, as priority one, the Air Battle Force. “Well, I think we’ve got the ultimate mission-planning tool in the world available for you if you want it. All we need to do is hook you up with Jon Masters and his NIRTSat boosters, and you can build mission packages for the STRATFOR so detailed that you’d think someone already flew the mission.”
“Maybe not, ” Jarrel said, motioning to the message from McLanahan. “Your SPO says that SPACECOM will deorbit the NIRTSat. SPACECOM didn’t know about the nuke-they thought it had malfunctioned.” “Hal, step on it, ” Elliott told Briggs. “We need to get to the command post five minutes ago.”
“Got you covered, sir, ” Briggs said. He tossed a pocket-sized cellular telephone into the backseat. “I wasn’t cleared to peek at General Jarrel’s message, but I was cleared to peek at yours. When I read the thing about Space Command, I ordered a direct scrambled call to General Talbot at Falcon Air Force Base. He should be calling back any minute.” True to his word, the phone rang just as Briggs pulled up to the steel and glass headquarters building, so Elliott sat in the car and took the scrambled telephone call from there. A gruff, impatient voice answered, “NORAD, General Talbot, ” then added with even greater brusqueness, “Make it quick.”
“Mike, this is Brad Elliott calling from Ellsworth. How the hell are you?”
“Fine, Brad, just fine. Listen, Brad, can this call wait? I’m up to my ears in ‘gators right now.” Brad Elliott knew that was the understatement of the year. Air Force General Michael Talbot had one of the most unusual military jobs in the world: he was a “triple hat, ” commander of three major military organizations all at the same time. Because the Air Force was the lead agency in space-related matters, Talbot, as commander of the Air Force Space Command, was also commander of the United States Space Command, the new specified military command that directed all military space functions and coordinated all space-related activities for the three services; and because Space Command was the United States’ agency in charge of space defense, Talbot was also the current commander of the North American Aerospace Defense Command, which was a joint U.S. and Canadian organization that commanded all long-range radars and air-defense fighter bases for the defense of North America. As such, Talbot was incredibly busy even during the quiet times-with an air-defense emergency in the works, he was stretched to the limit. Even through the hiss and pop of the secure phone line, Elliott could hear the stress in Talbot’s voice. “I know you’re busy, Mike, but this is important. I need to talk to you about Jon Masters. “I got young Doctor Hot-Shot Big-Sky Damn-the-Torpedoes Masters sitting right here, Brad, ” Talbot said with audible contempt. Talbot’s commander of the Air Force Space Command’s Second Space Wing (which was in charge of all Defense Department satellites from launch to recovery) had gotten on the phone to Sky Masters’ DC-JO the minute the satellite went out. Since the NIRTSat had been launched seventy-one seconds outside of the launch window after disobeying an Air Force request to cancel, Talbot’s subordinate, the commander of the Second Space Wing, had ordered up a specifically modified C-130 cargo plane to recover the satellite. Better that, the commander
