talk the Japanese out of buying so much Russian hardware and into buying more American equipment. Mortonson was armed with joint development contracts, licensing agreements, incentives, loan packages, and grant money — everything short of an out-and-out bribe to try to get Japan to buy American again.
The pressure was already on. He didn’t need his own troops adding more gray hairs, wrinkles, and bags under his eyes.
“I’ve got the secretary of defense, the President’s national security adviser, the director of Central Intelligence, and the chief of Naval Operations ready to shit on my desk!” Mortonson shouted after the door to his office was closed. “What in hell went on out there, General?”
Hayes told him — and Mortonson was scared. Stunned, angry, incredulous, yes — but mostly scared.
The secretary of the Air Force was a politician and bureaucrat by trade, not an engineer, scientist, or soldier like some of his predecessors. The politician in him said this was so damaging to the administration, not to mention the Air Force, that the President’s opponents might not even wait until the November elections — they could all be out of a job within days. At a time when the threat to America’s security was at its greatest, and the perceived readiness and ability of the military to fight a major conflict was very low, the last thing the White House or Pentagon needed was an unauthorized test of some unknown weapon.
“General Hayes, I hope you realize the consequences of what you did,” Mortonson said ominously.
“Of course I do, sir,” he said. “I’m also prepared to brief you with results of our tests.”
“Are you prepared to lose your job? Have your career destroyed?” Mortonson asked. “Because that’s what’s going to happen to you, and most likely to me, when I report this to the rest of the Joint Chiefs and the White House. They’re going to blow a gasket.”
“Sir, the thing works,” Hayes said. “The Air Force’s antimissile hunter-killer system works. Forget the plasma-yield warhead for a moment, sir. No harm, no foul. The Navy still doesn’t know what kind of warhead we used, and in my estimation they’ll never figure it out unless someone tells them.”
“You’re giving me this ‘no harm, no foul’ nonsense, Victor?” Mortonson asked incredulously. “You expect me to go in front of the Joint Chiefs and the President and say something like ‘no harm, no foul’? Are you crazy?”
“Sir, what I’d prefer you say is that we have the antiballistic missile system the White House and Congress have been clamoring for,” Hayes said earnestly. “Lieutenant General Terrill Samson at HAWC demonstrated an air- launched antimissile system that is almost as effective as the airborne laser program but that we can field in just a few months. You told me to find a way to fit ABL into the budget — here’s how we do it. I respectfully suggest, sir, you tell the Navy to stuff it.”
“I think we will be fighting to keep from getting
“The range is administered by the Navy, and a naval officer was the controlling authority,” Hayes said, “but we were paying for it.” Mortonson closed his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. Hayes was indignant. “Sir, we
“The Navy never gave us any limits on what weapons we could use, only that we not overfly any of their ships with our missiles. We briefed which weapons we’d use and we used what we briefed — except for the plasma-yield warheads. All of the Navy ships were well outside the warheads’ kill radius, which we knew with great precision because that’s a property of the weapon. The Navy knows all about the weapon because they intend to use it on their Aegis Tier Two and Three antiballistic missile weapons. It was perfectly safe. No Navy personnel were in any danger, and they know it.”
“You’re deluding yourself with that argument, General,” said the secretary of the Air Force. “They are going to nail our hides to the wall over this. What was the closest detonation to any ships?”
Hayes checked his notes: “The rocket intercept was thirty miles downrange and at an altitude of seventy-four thousand feet — that’s over twelve nautical miles high,” he replied. “The launch barge was over nine miles from the nearest warship. The explosions didn’t cause a ripple in the water. They didn’t detect any radiation until they sailed right over to ground zero and recovered a piece of the barge, and radiation levels were well below danger levels. The closest nonmilitary vessel was twenty-three miles.”
Hayes was heartened to see Mortonson stop to think again. Good, he thought, maybe he wasn’t ready to concede defeat over this. “All right, General,” Mortonson said finally. “I’ll back your play. I’m going to need a briefing file on the plasma-yield warhead and on the missiles you launched. I’m sure we’ll all take a few turns roasting on the spit, but I think I can keep us from getting completely cooked.”
“Thank you, sir,” Hayes said gratefully.
“Don’t thank me yet, General — if the CNO or the White House wants someone’s ass, it’ll be yours, mine, and Samson’s. We’re not out of the woods by any means. All this means is you have an advocate. It may not do us a lick of good.”
“Then, if you’ll permit me, I suggest you don’t go in there with your hat in your hand, sir,” Hayes said.
“You have something else in mind, General?”
“Sir, we did a successful boost-phase antimissile test this morning,” Hayes said. “We built the weapon they wanted us to build. We have a victory, not a failure. I think the Navy and the Army both know it, or at least suspect it. Let’s capitalize on it. We are ready to begin operational tests of the new ‘Coronet Tiger.’”
Secretary Mortonson shook his head in some confusion. He was very familiar with the program — he had almost lost his confirmation to be secretary of the Air Force because of his overwhelming support of the expensive, controversial weapon system. “Coronet Tiger” was the classified code name of the Air Force’s new antiballistic missile defense program, starting with the airborne laser and continuing on to the new Skybolt space-based laser system.
But in this day and age of military “jointness,” every branch of the service had to be involved or nothing would ever get approval. The airborne laser was the Air Force’s one and only contribution to the new fifty-billion-dollar antiballistic missile program; its designs and plans — and funding — for the space-based laser were all transferred to the Navy.
“I don’t understand, General,” he said irritably. “Coronet Tiger is dead.”
“You can blame Lieutenant General Samson at HAWC for this one too, sir,” Hayes said. “The air-launched antiballistic missile system was Samson’s lab’s invention. He wants to put the Lancelot ABM system on a dozen B-1 bombers and create an antimissile attack squadron. Lancelot is teamed up with cruise missiles to destroy not only enemy rockets but the launchers as well, and Lancelot even has an antisatellite capability. Fast, deployable, survivable, and effective. I’ve got a full report, and I can brief you and the Joint Chiefs whenever you’d like.”
“Forget it, General,” Mortonson said. “There is no way that’s ever going to be approved now. Even if I can keep all our asses out of the fire — which I’m not confident I can do — there’s no way in hell the Department of Defense will authorize funding for a new squadron of B-1s to carry these weapons. Hell, we’ll be lucky if they let us keep Dreamland open, let alone allow us to keep those missiles.”
“Samson has already drawn up an organizational chart and preliminary budget proposal,” Hayes said. “He suggests we fund and equip the unit through the Air National Guard. We share the cost of the conversion, training, upkeep, and basing with the Guard. He’s got it laid out pretty well, sir. I think it’s worth a look.”
Mortonson scowled at Hayes, then glanced at General Gregory Hammond. “You seen any of these numbers, Greg?”
“Yes, sir,” Hammond replied. He shrugged noncommittally. “It’s workable. It’s certainly cutting-edge, so the states might actually
“Who has the best package?”
“Hard to say exactly, sir, but — no pun intended — I’d put my money on Nevada,” Hammond replied with a slight smile. “They have two possible facilities other than the Reno-Tahoe Airport: Tonopah and the old Tuscarora Air Force Base near Battle Mountain. Both have first-class runways, taxiways, construction areas, and weapons storage facilities — they just need major work on buildings and infrastructure, which the state would fund to our specifications.”
