Brown, Dale - Independent 01 (52 page)

           
“Very well,
Marshal. You are dismissed.” Govorov stood, saluted the general secretary and
left.

           
After he
had gone the general secretary turned once again to Chercherovin. “Any other
scapegoats, Admiral?” Chercherovin kept his mouth shut.

           
“If, as I
believe, Marshal Govorov makes good on his promise to destroy the American
space station,” the general secretary said, “will this mean that the
Arkhangel
group can force the
Nimitz
carrier group to withdraw, or is
there some other small bit of information that has not been revealed, some
other excuse that you will tell me only after we have had another defeat?”

           
“The
aircraft lost on the
Arkhangel
must be
replaced,” Chercherovin said. “We have no accurate figures as to how many the
Americans have lost—”

           
“Which to
me sounds like they have not lost any,” the general secretary broke in. “I
sense the worst. If I can’t get the truth, the whole truth, out of you, I will
assume the worst has happened... so we will assume the Americans lost no
fighter aircraft, and we have lost twenty fighters from the
Arkhangel.
How soon can we send twenty
fighters out to the
Arkhangel?”

           
“It may be
difficult,” the admiral said slowly, expecting another outburst. “Sukhoi-27
aircraft modified for carrier duty aboard the
Arkhangel
are only stationed at
Vladivostok
,
the
Arkhangel
s home port. An
operation to move twenty Su-27s from there will take at least a day of planning
and a half-day of flying.”

           
“A day and
a half,” the general secretary said. “And that, I assume, is a very optimistic
figure.
And
that only places us at
the same force level that we were at when the first twenty aircraft were
destroyed. When the space station is finally knocked out, what do we have to
take advantage of that?” He stood and walked around the triangular table. “Hear
me
now,
I will
not
be forced to use thermonuclear weapons to secure the
Persian Gulf
.
I will
not
go down in history as the
first Soviet leader to use nuclear weapons,
especially
on an inferior enemy force. Well, let me hear some alternatives.”

           
“A
suggestion, Comrade General Secretary,” Ilanovsky, the commander in chief of
the army, said. “Sir, the objective is to destroy or cripple the
Nimitz
and her escorts. I still believe
a massive cruise missile attack is the best way to attack the American fleet,
but not with air-launched missiles. The flight profiles of the AS-6 and AS-4
missiles are too vulnerable to engagement by the
Nimitz’s
guided missile cruiser escorts, and the other
air-to-ground cruise missiles currently deployed, such as the AS-15, are
nuclear.”

           
“Then what
else
is available?”

           
“We have in
early deployment a ground-launched cruise missile, a variant of the SS-N-24 naval
cruise missile currently deployed on some of our older attack submarines. It’s
called the GL-25 Distant Death. It has transsonic speed, inertial and
terrain-comparison guidance with active terminal-radar homing, and it can carry
an eleven hundred kilogram conventional high-explosive warhead or a five
hundred kiloton thermonuclear warhead over three thousand kilometers to its
target with high accuracy. Only a hundred or so have been deployed, but most
were sent to the Southern Military Headquarters region during the readiness
exercise Rocky Sweep. From
Tashkent
and the mountains north of
Afghanistan
it would be possible to strike at the American fleet in the
Arabian
Sea
.”

           
“But the
Nimitz’s
escorts have already proved
that they can protect themselves from cruise-missile attack,” Chercherovin put
in.

           
“Not from
the GL-25,” Ilanovsky told him quickly. “This cruise missile does not stay at
high altitude as it gets closer to its target like the AS-4 or AS-6, but is
preprogrammed to travel at low altitude when in areas of high-threat
concentration, and it can make a supersonic dash for the last hundred
kilometers to the target. By the time the
Nimitz
or her escorts spot it, it will be too late to intercept.”

           
“But the
time required
to plan
a strike sortie—”

           
“The
missiles can be reprogrammed in a few hours,” Ilanovsky said, “The missiles
have been stored in surveyed launch positions since Operation Feather began,
targeted on suspected areas of resistance in Iran and Afghanistan. They can be
ready to launch well before Marshal Govorov’s strike against the space station
Armstrong is finished.”

           
The Stavka
was silent. “Any other objections?” the general secretary asked. There were
none. “Then I’m in favor of the operation.” He turned to Ilanovsky. “How many
missiles can be fielded against the American fleet?”

           
Ilanovsky
paused, then: “Sir, I believe seventy-five missiles were delivered to the
southern TVD in support of Rocky Sweep. I must allow for a certain number to be
out of commission due to normal maintenance difficulties, but I believe I can
field at least fifty GL-25 cruise missiles for launch against the fleet.”

           
“Fifty missiles against twenty American ships.
Can a
definite number be targeted for the
Nimitz?”

           
“The GL-25s
can’t be targeted that accurately, sir. Once within a certain distance from
their preplanned target points, their homing radar is activated and the missile
flies directly to the largest radar reflector in the area. But the American
carrier fleet is spread out enough in the
Arabian Sea
to
make it very likely that each missile will seek out its own target rather than
join with others to attack one vessel. I think the GL-25s will have a
devastating effect on the American fleet.”

           
The general
secretary actually looked pleased. “The GL-25 attack, using conventional
high-explosive warheads, will immediately be implemented. I want a briefing on
the missiles’ exact flight path before launch.”

           
Ilanovsky, relieved and excited, nodded and issued orders to his
aide, charging him with alerting the missile brigades in the south-central
Soviet Union
.

 
          
ARMSTRONG SPACE STATION

 
          
Saint-Michael switched his comm panel
to the TDRS channel and adjusted his earset.
“Nimitz,
this is Armstrong. Horizon crossing in one minute. Over.”

           
“Copy, Jason,” from Admiral Clancy.
“Standing by for data
transmission test.”

           
They had
performed this routine several times in the past two days, and each time the
difference between having the station’s eyes and not having them was startling.
While Armstrong was on the other side of the globe the
Nimitz
had to rely on RF-18 Hornet maritime reconnaissance jets,
E-27 Hawkeye turboprop early-waming-and-control planes, and Himlord drones to
know what the Russians were up to. The
Nimitz
would launch two Hawkeyes and one Hornet, and the USS
Kidd
would launch four Himlords all at once. Eventually they all
became targets for the escorts and fighters of the Soviet battle group to
practice on. So far, two Hornets, one Hawkeye and an entire squadron of
Himlords had been lost to Soviet attack.

           
By
contrast,
Silver
Tower
’s
SBR provided a much wider scale and more detailed look at the region; in fact,
Admiral Clancy had begun to talk about the navy acquiring its own space-based
radar platforms to be deployed with all its front-line carrier battle groups.
It was no wonder he warmly greeted
Silver
Tower
’s reappearance every ninety
minutes.

           
Saint-Michael
monitored the system self-tests and status reports as they scrolled across the
monitors. Ken Horvath pointed to a blinking line on the status monitor.
“There’s that relay-circuit fault again.”

           
In the
Skybolt control module Ann shooed away sweat blobs, pulled her POS mask to her
face and took several deep breaths of oxygen. She was lying on her back placing
the securing camlocks back into a relay circuit. The top of the module had been
caved in by the force of one missile during the first Soviet spaceplane attack,
so the monitors and console that used to be overhead were now squashed almost
to the deck. The module was frigid, the air so thin on account of leaks that
she got dizzy if she forgot to take a few deep breaths of oxygen every few
minutes.

           
She had an
unsecured ten-thousand-volt wire hanging a few inches from her head, pieces of
computer components taped and Velcroed everywhere. Relays, memory chips and
power supplies designed for one circuit now had to handle three or four. But it
was worth it... maybe. At least Skybolt was put back together. But would it
work?

           
“Just finished.
I’m ready for a test.”

           
“Sorry,
we’re about to cross the horizon again.” A few moments later the fault
indication cleared and reported itself normal. Ann, who had spent most of her
time in the Skybolt control module since the station had been
repaired
could only work on the relay circuitry between
Skybolt and the SBR when the SBR was not being used to scan the
Arabian
Sea
.

           
A few
minutes later she entered the command module bringing three cups of coffee and
a few pieces of hard candy, the only uncontaminated food still on the station.
Saint-Michael and Horvath reached for the coffee.

           
“How’s it
going back there?”

           
“Bad to
maybe better. The Russians put a missile right through one of the SBR relays
that controls the slaving system to the laser mirror. I’m patching the circuits
through to another relay, but it’s sort of like reinventing the wheel. I’m
beginning to discover how much I don’t know about all that electronic stuff
back there. I’ll need a system test when we go below the target horizon.”

           
“You got
it.” Saint-Michael rechecked the system readouts. “System self-test completed,”
he announced, clicking the ACKNOWLEDGE key on his computer terminal. He
switched his comm link to TDRS. “
Nimitz
,
this is Armstrong. Data transmission link-check good. How copy?”

           
“
Ticonderoga
acknowledges data self-test
good
,” said the chief sensor technician aboard the Aegis
command-and-control cruiser
Ticonderoga
.
“Trying to get
acknowledgment
from Nimitz,
Standby.”

           
A few
moments passed. By matching longitudinal coordinates Saint-Michael was able to
announce when they’d crossed the target horizon, and they watched with quiet
satisfaction as
Ticonderoga
and
Nimitz
began hungrily feeding on
SBR transmissions relayed to them from
Silver
Tower
.

           
“Armstrong,
this is
Nimitz.
Come in.” Admiral
Clancy’s serious voice erased the smiles on the faces of
Silver
Tower
’s crews.
“Saint-Michael
here, sir.
Go ahead.”

           
“Jason,
Aerospace Defense Command has just relayed a message to us from defense
intelligence. While you were on the back side of that last orbit the laser at
Sary Shagan attacked our replacement satellite over the
Indian Ocean
.
It’s been destroyed.
Kaput.
No missile-
launch-detection capability exists in this region.”

           
Horvath
looked to Saint-Michael. “What’s it mean, Skipper?”

           
“It means
it’s their opening volley, just like last time,” Saint-Michael said. “Their
spaceplanes can now launch without being detected. We can expect them to show
any time.” Over the TDRS comm link he said, “I copy, Admiral. Can you provide
even limited launch warning over
Asia
?”

           
“Negative.
We’re stuck with either tactical reconnaissance or SBR. No deep-space
capability. SPACETRACK or Pacific Radar Barrier in Diego Garcia may be able to
pick them up, but the only reliable detection and tracking station close enough
to help is either Pulmosan in
South Korea
or San Miguel in the
Philippines
.”
An ominous pause, then: “We can try to get you a link with San Miguel or Diego
Garcia, but that won’t do you any good. Face it, Jas. Time’s run out. You’re
going to have to get your butts off that station.”

           
Saint-Michael
turned to Ann. “What do you say? Can Skybolt work? Is there a chance?”