Stephen Coonts - Combat

Well, thought Barnes, actually I passed the file to Ed Reynolds in the ABL Program Office and Eddie gave it to the general. Also, I only told Eddie that Defender was better than anything else I’d heard of. The next thing I know, I’ve got two hours to prep a brief for the Chief of Staff of the Air Force.

But Barnes didn’t feel like correcting either general. “It’s the best shot we have, sir,” trying to sound positive, “unless there’s something in the ‘black’ world.” The armed forces ran a lot of “black” programs, secret projects with advanced technology. The F-117 had been one of the most famous. Was there one to deal with this threat?

“Nothing that will help us, I’m afraid.” The general shook his head, half-musing to himself. “The X-40’s operational, but she was never supposed to be more than a test bed. She doesn’t have the payload for this in any case.”

Looking at Barnes directly, Warner continued, “Yes, Captain, there is technology in the classified world that would help us — in anywhere from five to twenty years. The Chinese have jumped the gun on us.” He sounded angry.

“We should own this crisis, and we just don’t have the tools to deal with it! And now some SPAWAR employee and his buddies in their free time have come up with this, and we’re all taking it seriously?”

Barnes waited for the general to continue. When it appeared he’d run down, the captain said, “Well, sir, at least he’s former Air Force.”

Warner laughed, a little grimly, then looked at the wall clock. “All right, then, Captain. Let’s go see if the Joint Chiefs have a sense of humor.”

Ray McConnell looked around the fabled War Room. Every available chair was filled, usually by someone in uniform, and often by a uniform with stars on it.

The Joint Chiefs themselves sat on both sides of a long table, with the Chairman at the head on the left. A briefer’s podium stood empty at the head, and behind the podium, the entire wall was an active video display. Ray almost felt at home.

He also felt rushed and a little unorganized. His plane had landed just a short time before. The Metro had taken him straight from Dulles to the Pentagon, and Admiral Schultz himself had met Ray. The outgoing admiral had quickly filled him in and shared some of his enthusiasm with the hurried engineer. They’d dropped his bags in the CNO’s office, of all places, and made the meeting with only minutes to spare.

Several rows of chairs to one side of the main table were filled with a gaggle of aides, experts, and assorted hangers-on, including Ray. Nervously, he typed on his data pad, working on the design that was never finished.

The Vice Chairman, a Navy admiral, stepped up to the podium, and the buzz in the room quickly died. “Gentlemen, the Chairman.”

Everyone rose, and Ray saw General Kastner, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, enter and take his seat. McConnell wasn’t normally awed by rank, but he realized that this collection of stars could really make things happen. They literally were responsible for defending the country, and that’s what they’d met to do.

The Vice Chairman, Admiral Blair, tapped the data pad built into the podium. A bullet chart appeared on the screen. It was titled “Protection of Space Assets.”

“Gentlemen, our task today is find a course of action that will protect our satellites from Chinese attack. Any solution we consider”—and he started to tick off items on the list—“must include the cost, the technological risk, the time it would take to implement, and the political repercussions.” He glanced over at Kastner, who nodded approvingly.

Blair continued. “Above all,” he said, scanning the entire room, “it must work, and work soon. The material costs alone have been severe, and the potential effects on American security and the economy are incalculable.

“For purposes of this discussion, while cost should be considered, it is not a limitation. Also, the President considers these attacks by China an attack on American vital interests, although he has not made that decision public.”

Nor will he , Ray thought, until we can do something about them . So cost wasn’t a problem, just shut down the Chinese, and do it quickly.

Blair put a new page up on the display, listing some conventional methods of attack. “You’ve all sent analyses indicating that these are not viable options. Our purpose is to see what other means you’ve developed since those initial reports.”

Kastner stood up, taking Blair’s place at the podium. Blair sat down at his left. The Chairman looked around the room. “To save time, let me ask a few questions. The President has asked me if we can arm a shuttle and use it to defend the satellites.” His tone was formal, as if he already knew the answer.

Kastner looked at General Warner, who glanced around the table before replying. “The Air Force would recommend against that. Not only would it take too long to prepare, it’s too vulnerable during launch. Certainly if they can shoot down a GPS satellite, they can shoot down a shuttle.”

The Chairman nodded, then looked at the Chief of Naval Operations. “Can we use a missile to shoot down the kill vehicle?”

Admiral Kramer answered quickly. “We’d hoped that would work, sir, but we’re sure now that we can’t. We had two Aegis ships in a position to track the last ASAT shot seven days ago. We’ve been analyzing the data since.”

“The T’ien Lung,” Kramer pronounced the Chinese name carefully, “is too fast. Our Standard Block IVs can shoot down a ballistic missile, but as hard as a ballistic intercept is, it’s easier than this. At least a ballistic missile is a closing target, but the ASAT is outbound. It’s a tail chase from the start. Even if we launched at the same moment, the intercept basket is nonexistent.”

“Does the Army concur?” Kastner looked at the Army’s Chief of Staff. The Army also had an active antiballistic-missile system.

“Yes, sir. It has to be from above.” General Forest didn’t look pleased.

Ray realized the general had just told the Chairman that the Army didn’t have a role in solving the crisis. Of course, the Commandant of the Marine Corps looked even unhappier. This was one beach his men couldn’t hope to storm.

General Kastner announced, “I’m also allowed to tell you that there are no special assets that might be able to destroy the launch site using unconventional methods.”

In other words , Ray thought, they can’t get an agent into the area. McConnell didn’t even want to think about how he’d destroy the launcher. Talk about the Guns of Navarone …

Which meant they were getting desperate. McConnell saw what Kastner was doing, eliminating options one by one. He knew about Defender . He had to know. Ray didn’t know what to feel. Was this actually going to happen? Fear started to replace hope.

General Warner finally broke the silence. “Sir, the Air Force thinks we can make the Defender concept work.”

Admiral Kramer shot a look at Schultz, sitting next to Ray. Then both looked at McConnell, who shrugged helplessly. Warner’s aide was loading a file into the display, and Ray saw Defender ’s image appear on the wall. This was becoming a little surreal.

“Captain Barnes from our ABL Program Office has put together a presentation on the design.” Ray saw a black Air Force captain with astronaut’s wings step up to the podium. As he started to describe the spacecraft, McConnell felt irritation, an almost proprietary protectiveness about the ship. His ship. Ray wanted to speak up, to protest that he could describe it better than anyone, but Kramer wasn’t saying anything, and Ray could only remain silent.