Shadow Command

will think I’ve been duped, and they’ll demand I take action, or else I’ll lose all the support for our cooperative efforts and rapprochement I’ve taken months to cultivate. You cut the rug out from under me, Joe.”

“Leonid, I’m in the middle of an important meeting, and I need to finish up what I’m doing first,” the President lied, impatiently rising to his feet and resisting the urge to yell outside his door for Carlyle and Kordus to tell him what in hell was going on. “I assure you, we don’t have any actions under way against Russia anywhere, in any fashion—”

“‘Against Russia?’ That sounds like an alarming equivocation, Joe. What does that mean? Are you launching an operation against someone else?”

“Let me clear my desk and finish this briefing, Leonid, and I’ll fill you in. I’ll—”

“I thought we agreed, Joe: essential flights only until we had a treaty governing military travel in space,” Zevitin pressed. “As far as we can tell, the spaceplane isn’t going to dock with the space station, so this is not a logistical mission. I know things are bad in Iran and Iraq, but bad enough to stir up widespread fear by launching a Black Stallion? I think not. This is a complete disaster, Joe. I’m going to get butchered by the Duma and the generals—”

“Don’t panic, Leonid. There’s a rational and completely benign explanation. I’ll call you back as soon as I can and—”

“Joe, you had better be straight with me, or else I won’t be able to rein in the opposition leaders and some of the more powerful generals — they’ll all be clamoring for an explanation and a strong response in kind,” Zevitin said. “If I can’t give them a plausible answer, they’ll start searching for one themselves. You know I’m holding on by a shoestring out here. I need your cooperation or everything we’ve worked for will unravel.”

“I’ll call you right back, Leonid,” Gardner said. “But I assure you, on my honor, that nothing is going on. Absolutely nothing.”

“So our ambassadors and observers on the ground in Tehran shouldn’t be worried about another hypersonic missile slamming through the ceiling any moment now?”

“Don’t even joke about that, Leonid. It’s not going to happen. I’ll call you back.” He impatiently hung up the phone, then wiped the beads of sweat off his upper lip. “Walter!” he shouted. “Where the hell are you? And where’s Conrad?”

The two advisers trotted into the executive suite moments later. “Sorry, Mr. President, but I was downloading the latest spacecraft status report from Strategic Command,” National Security Adviser Conrad Carlyle said. “It should be on your computer.” He accessed the computer on the President’s desk, opened a secure file location, and quickly scanned the contents. “Okay, it’s right here…yes, General Cannon, commander of U.S. Strategic Command, authorized a spaceplane launch about four hours ago, and the mission was approved by Secretary Turner.”

“Why wasn’t I notified of this?”

“The mission is described as ‘routine,’ sir,” Carlyle said. “Crew of two, three passengers, six orbits of the Earth and return to Elliott Air Force Base, total mission duration ten hours.”

“What is this, a fucking joy ride? Who are the passengers? I ordered essential missions only! What in hell is going on? I thought I grounded all of the spaceplanes.”

Carlyle and Kordus exchanged puzzled expressions. “I…I’m not aware of an order grounding the spaceplanes, sir,” Carlyle responded feebly. “You did recall the SkySTREAK bombers from their patrols, but not the space—”

“I had a deal with Zevitin, Conrad: No more spaceplane launches without first notifying him,” Gardner said. “He’s hopping mad about the launch, and so am I!”

Carlyle’s brows knitted, and his mouth opened and closed with confusion. “I’m sorry, Joe, but I’m not aware of any agreement we made with Zevitin to inform him of anything dealing with the spaceplanes,” he said finally. “I know he’s been clamoring for that — he rants and raves to every media outlet in the world that the spaceplanes are a danger to world peace and security because they can be mistaken for an intercontinental ballistic missile, and he’s demanding that we notify him before we launch one — but there’s been no formal agreement about—”

“Didn’t I order Cannon to be sure that those spaceplanes and any space weapons didn’t enter sovereign airspace, even if it meant keeping them on the ground?” the President thundered. “They were to stay out of any country’s airspace at all times. Didn’t I give that order?”

“Well…yes, sir, I believe you did,” Kordus replied. “But the spaceplanes can easily fly above a country’s airspace. They can—”

“How can they do that?” the President asked. “We have airspace that’s restricted from the surface to infinity. Sovereign airspace is all the airspace above a nation.”

“Sir, as we’ve discussed before, under the Outer Space Treaty no nation can restrict access or travel through outer space,” Carlyle reminded the President. “Legally space begins one hundred kilometers from Earth’s surface. The spaceplane can climb into space quickly enough while over friendly countries, open ocean, or the ice packs, and once up there can fly around without violating anyone’s sovereign airspace. They do it—”

“I don’t give a shit what it says in an obsolete forty-year-old treaty!” the President thundered. “For many months we have been involved in discussions with Zevitin and the United Nations to come up with a way to alleviate the anxiety felt by many around the world to spaceplane and space station operations without restricting our own access to space or revealing classified information. Until we had something worked out, I made it clear that I didn’t want the spaceplanes flitting around unnecessarily making folks nervous and interfering with the negotiations. Essential missions only, and that meant resupply and national emergencies — I had to personally approve all other missions. Am I mistaken, or have I not approved any other spaceplane flights recently?”

“Sir, General Cannon must have felt it important enough to launch this flight without—”

“Without my approval? He thinks he can just blast off into space without anyone’s permission? Where’s the emergency? Is the spaceplane going to dock with the space station? Who are the three passengers? Do you even know?”

“I’ll put in a call to General Cannon, sir,” Carlyle said, picking up the phone. “I’ll get all the details right away.”

“This is a damned nightmare! This is out of control!” the President thundered. “I want to know who’s responsible for this, and I want his ass out! Do you hear me? Unless war has been declared or aliens are attacking, I want whoever’s responsible for this shit-canned! I want to speak with Cannon myself!”

Carlyle put his hand over the phone’s mouthpiece as he waited and said, “Sir, I suggest I speak with General Cannon. Keep an arm’s-length distance from this. If it’s just a training flight or something, you don’t want to be perceived as jumping off the deep end, especially after just speaking with the president of Russia.”

“This is serious, Conrad, and I want it clear to my generals that I want those spaceplanes under tight control,” the President said.

“Are you sure that’s how you want to handle it, Joe?” Kordus asked in a quiet voice. “Reaching down past Secretary Turner to dress down a four-star general is bad form. If you want to beat someone up, pick on Turner — he was the final authority for that spaceplane launch.”

“Oh, I’ll give Turner a piece of my mind too, you can bet on that,” the President said angrily, “but Cannon and that other guy, the three-star—”

“Lieutenant General Backman, commander of CENTAF.”

“Whatever. Cannon and Backman have been fighting me too hard and too long over this space defense force idea of McLanahan’s, and it’s about time to bring them back into line — or, better, get rid of them. They’re the last holdouts of Martindale’s Pentagon brain trust, and they want the space stuff because it builds up their empires.”

“If you want them gone, we’ll get rid of them — they all serve at the pleasure of the commander-in-chief,” Kordus said. “But they’re still very powerful and popular generals, especially with congressmen who are for the space program. They may push their own plans and programs while in uniform, but as disgraced and disgruntled retired generals, they’ll attack you openly and personally. Don’t give them a reason.”

“I know how the game is played, Walter — hell, I made most of the rules,” the President said hotly. “I’m not afraid of the generals, and I shouldn’t be worried about tiptoeing around them — I’m the damned commander-in- chief. Get Turner on the line right away.” He reached over and snatched the phone out of the National Security