America

Stephen Coonts America

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The SuperAegis space-based missile defense system and the submarine USS America that are featured in this tale are products of the author's imagination. Many of America s capabilities and features were suggested by the Virginia-class of attack submarines currently under development, but the design is entirely the author's. Patent applications are pending. It was not the author's intent to write a treatise on submarines, which are among the most complex devices ever invented by man, so, as usual, the author has taken creative liberties where necessary in the interest of readability and pacing.

Engineer and physicist Gilbert Pascal was kind enough to illuminate numerous technical points as the author slashed his way through the arcane jungles of Star Wars and underseas warfare. Submarine experts Malcolm MacKinnon III and Chris Carlson read and commented upon the underwater portions of the manuscript. The author is deeply grateful to all three.

Culpability for this literary crime is shared by the author's wife, Deborah Coonts, to whom all complaints should be addressed.

The author's editor at St. Martin's Press, Charles Spicer, deserves a special tip of the baseball cap. His enthusiasm for adventure fiction, wise counsel, and patience throughout the creative process make him a pleasure to work with.

PROLOGUE

'Thirty minutes and counting,' the loudspeaker blared.

Jake Grafton held his hat on his head against the breeze as he tilted his head to look up at the massive three-stage rocket towering into the blue sky. He squinted against the glare of the sunlight reflecting off the frost that covered the rocket's white skin. The cold fuel had lowered the skin temperature, causing moisture from the warm sea air to condense, then freeze.

'It's three hundred fifty-two feet, three and a half inches tall,' Commander Toad Tarkington said expansively. He was full of facts and figures, enormous, meaningless numbers that managed to convey only the impression of stupendous size.

'You're sure of that?'

'Give or take a half inch. Shooting that thing is going to be a hell of a way to celebrate the Fourth of July.'

'It is the holy Fourth, isn't it?'

Tarkington had spent the last month aboard the Goddard launch platform, a converted deep-sea drilling platform, and liked to play tour guide whenever his boss, Rear Admiral Jake Grafton, showed up with the international entourage in tow. Jake had been visiting the platform, which was sitting on the edge of the continental shelf fifty miles east of Cape Canaveral, for a couple of days every two weeks or so. This had been going on for months while the rocket was being assembled and tested.

Now it was ready. So the experts said, and there were a great many of them, from NASA, the air force, Europe, and Russia. Atop the third stage was the first of the SuperAegis space-based antiballistic-missile defense system satellites. The satellite contained a nuclear reactor and a laser, which would be used to shoot down ICBMs as they rose from the atmosphere. When fully operational the system would consist of eight killer satellites in mid- Earth orbit. It would take another three years to get the other seven launched. Assuming the first one successfully passed its operational tests. But all that was for other days in the-hazy future.

SuperAegis was being launched from here as a sop to the Florida politicians, who were worried about contaminating Cape Canaveral and the Florida east coast if the rocket blew up on launch. The sea launch also ruled out use of the space shuttle as a launch vehicle.

Today the assembly crane had been moved back and only the gantry carrying the electrical umbilical cords stood next to the rocket.

'I confess I never thought we'd get this far,' Toad murmured.

The other tourists were crowding onto the small work area below the rocket, so Jake and Toad moved to the very edge of the platform, against the safety rail. The sea was a hundred feet below. Dark blue water, a few whitecaps. Jake took a deep breath, reveling in the smell of the salty sea air.

'Smells good,' Toad said, reading his mood.

Three helicopters were orbiting the platform. Two of them were military birds, and the third belonged to a television pool, which was sharing the video feed. The buzzing of their engines came and went, depending on whether they were upwind or downwind.

A mile from the platform lay the aircraft carrier USS United States, barely making steerageway. Even from this distance Jake could see the hundreds of people lining the deck. By launch time most of the carrier's crew and the thousand or so members of the press and dignitaries who couldn't be accommodated on the launch platform would be standing on the four-acre flight deck. Several destroyers were also visible, though farther away, steaming back and forth between the launch platform and several dozen civilian boats — yachts— crammed to the gunwales with protesters.

The antinuclear, peace, and environmental activists were out in full force, having a wonderful holiday and making as much of a nuisance of themselves as possible.

With their onboard nuclear reactors, the SuperAegis killer satellites certainly had something for everyone to worry about. The threat of nuclear contamination if a rocket failed to reach orbit had been minimized but could not be eliminated. Then there were those who felt that an effective ICBM shield made nuclear war more likely, not less so. Finally there were those who felt that it was obscene to spend so much money on a system that would in all likelihood never be used. All these cares and concerns had worked their way through the political process… and here sat the first component of the SuperAegis system, ready to launch.

One of the civilians standing nearby surrounded by aides and colleagues was the secretary of state, whose idea it had been to include Europe and Russia under the SuperAegis missile shield. That master stroke had cleared the way politically. The rockets lifting the satellites were made in Russia, and the launch was funded by the Europeans.

The antiballistic-missile defense system itself, the SuperAegis satellites, were purely American. The general details of how the system worked were of course common knowledge, had been publicized around the globe and argued at great length in legislative halls from Washington to Moscow, but the technology at the heart of the system was highly classified. It would have to remain that way to ensure it could not be defeated by rogue, pirate, or outlaw states that might in the future get an itch to launch a ballistic missile at the Western allies.

The secretary of state had plenty of company today. With him were the secretary of defense and the national security adviser. No doubt the president and the rest of the cabinet would also have been here if one of the protesters had not pointed out that if the rocket exploded on the platform — an unlikely event — conceivably the entire government delegation might be immolated. This, the protester said wryly, would not be a complete disaster. So the president stayed home.

One of the civilians, in a tailored gray suit standing at the secretary's elbow, was General Eric 'Fireball' Williams, a former chairman of the Joint Chiefs. These days he was the president of Consolidated Aerospace, the prime contractor for SuperAegis. After the protester's immolation crack Williams had publicly announced that he was going to be in the control room during the launch.

SuperAegis had saved Consolidated, according to the press. Fifty billion dollars spent so far, with more to come.