to hear from his wife about the birth of their first child. As the ship’s morale officer, Andreas was acutely aware of how much these broadcasts contributed to the smooth functioning of his submarine. He regretted that the upgrade to the new OE-538 multifunction mast got pushed back during the
“The antenna looks fine,” reported the XO. “And the GPS signal came through five by five, but I’ll have them check all the gear again. What do you think?”
Andreas was about to venture a few guesses when the ECM operator called out, “Sir? I have encrypted UHF chatter and shipboard air-search radar emissions originating from the Russian task force.”
With a nod, Andreas answered, “Well, well, well. They’ve finally broken radio silence. As soon as we get a match between the SINS and GPS we’ll swing back down there and take a look.”
“It’s a Top Plate, Captain,” added the operator.
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, sir.”
Top Plate was the old NATO designation for a Russian MR-710 Fregat-M, 3D air search radar, a model normally found onboard Slava class cruisers.
“Well, then either the Russian Army’s hogging all those petrodollars or somebody in the Navy’s skimming big-time. They’re cannibalizing their ships.”
By now, a steady stream of Kamov Ka-29 helicopters with one to three crew members and hold capacities of up to sixteen troops were beginning to leave the
“Gentlemen, I’m stumped,” Andreas said with a snort. “If this is a Russian invasion, it’s analogous to a flea crawling up an elephant’s leg with intentions of rape.”
“Well, this can’t be some kind of exercise,” the XO said. “This must be part of—”
“Sir,” the officer of the deck interrupted. “Flashing light between the
“We can take out two ships with one missile,” Andreas said. “XO, set up another slot buoy. Admiral Stanton needs to see this…”
ELEVEN
President Becerra listened intently to Chief of Staff Hellenberg, who was briefing him regarding the recent Motorola-Iridium deal.
Iridium Satellite of Bethesda, Maryland, had established a LEO (low earth orbit) communication satellite network consisting of sixty birds, some in polar orbit, at an altitude of five hundred miles.
The system provided cell phone — voice and data — communication anywhere in the world. It did this by building in satellite-to-satellite transfer capability among all of its birds.
General Rudolph McDaniel, United States Air Force and vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, had recommended that Becerra contact the CEOs of Motorola and Iridium and ask them for total control of the network in the name of national security. McDaniel had confirmed with the Navy that the USS
“Well, the network is ours,” said Hellenberg.
“Have they made contact with the sub yet?”
“Not yet.”
“What’s the holdup now?”
“Sir, when the Navy tried to reactivate the Michigan ELF transmitter, the only site capable of communicating under the polar cap, they found that two of the underground diesel fuel tanks had rusted out and ruptured. The fuel in a third tank was contaminated and unusable. Remember, that equipment has been sitting there for more than ten years, unused.”
“What now?”
“The Navy says they need all six diesel generators online to produce enough power to push an ELF signal down through the underlying bedrock. Right now they have four eighteen-wheeler fuel tankers heading to that transmitter site in the middle of the wilderness. They’ll implement a direct hookup between the trucks and the diesel generators.”
“Let me know when we’ve reestablished.”
“Yes, sir. And right now it looks like General Kennedy is on three.”
“Route it to my screen.”
After a second, the monitor before Becerra flickered into the image of the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Laura Kennedy, United States Army, her blond hair pulled into a tight bun, her expression grave. “Hello, again, Mr. President.” She immediately glanced down at her notes.
“The Joint Chiefs have reviewed the data we’ve gathered from the ISS and from the satellite debris fields, as collected by NASA and the ESA, along with real-time, long-range imagery. It’s our conclusion that the ISS is, in fact, under Russian control, that they’ve violated the 2019 treaty regarding use of the station, and that a portable, tactical high energy laser-based weapon was fired from that platform. The station is now maneuvering again.”
“I understand.”
“We recommend that this threat to national security be eliminated immediately. General McDaniel informs us that he can shift one of our live-fire prototype ANGELS satellites to within striking distance.”
Autonomous Nanosatellite Guardian Evaluating Local Space (ANGELS) were cylindrical devices no larger than a wastepaper basket used primarily to monitor other satellites. However, during the last four years the JSF had piggybacked at least a dozen new ones aboard other communication satellites with the future mission of converting those ANGELS into low-power laser weapons and orbiting bombs.
“General, I’m wondering if there’s a way we can neutralize the threat without destroying the station.”
“Sir, we’ve considered every possibility. We could cut off their life support, force them to go to the suits. But they might reach their next target before exhausting their oxygen. We can’t send up astronauts in time. And if you open this up to debate with the other nations involved, the Russians will achieve their goals before the representatives even sit down.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that, General.”
“Mr. President, I will say this. If the weapon is clearly identifiable on the station, perhaps attached to one of the Russian modules, we’ll make every attempt to destroy it first, then see how they react. They might decide to take the ISS on a suicide run to destroy other orbital platforms, maybe even Freedom Star — in which case we’ll have the ANGEL attach itself to the station and self-destruct.”
“General, stand by for one moment please.” Becerra put her on hold, then tapped another screen, bringing up Roberta Santiago, his national security advisor. “Roberta, you’ve been listening in.”
“Yes, sir. And my God, sir. They want you to authorize the destruction of the ISS.”
“Do we have a choice? They will attempt to take out the weapon first.”
“I do have another thought.” Santiago’s tone darkened. “Why do we need to take full responsibility? Why can’t we turn this situation around? We’re the victims here and we should remain victims. Striking back, killing those two innocent researchers… that’s—”
“Roberta, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that within an hour I can have video released to the media. The Green Brigade Transnational will take full responsibility for the ISS’s destruction. And the ironic part is, Green Vox won’t dispute the lie. It’ll surprise him, but he’ll be happy to take full credit. He’d blow up the ISS himself if he could. That’s a fact.”
An icy feeling crept into Becerra’s spine as he considered how cunning and clever such a ploy might be—
