Phoenix Rising: (43 page)

Although Abraham Lincoln used the technology of the telegraph to follow significant battles during the Civil War, he had to do so in the telegraph room of the War Department because the White House had no telegraph service. Franklin Roosevelt was the first president to actually have a war room. FDR's war room, adjacent to the Diplomatic Reception Room, consisted of little more than tables, chairs, telephones, and maps with acetate covering to allow situation updates to be posted by grease pencil.

Thanks to Willie Stark, and the geeks who had come on board since the freedom movement had started, the onetime Fort Morgan museum was filled with an array of technical equipment. President Bob Varney, General Jake Lantz, Willie Stark, Karen Lantz, Julie Norton, Sheri Jack, and Barbara Carter were in the improvised war room observing a live satellite video feed of the operation against the
Pashkov
and the
Gomez.
Over six large high-definition flat-screen television screens, they watched as the SH-60 lifted from the deck of the
John Paul Jones
.

“Phoenix,
John Paul Jones
CIC, over
.” The sound came, clearly, from a large speaker.

“
John Paul Jones
CIC, this is Phoenix,” Willie Stark replied
.

“Call when you have visual from Mad Dog.”
Mad Dog was the call sign from the Blackhawk helicopter.

“Roger.”

In addition to the video coming from the deck of the
John Paul Jones
, they could also see video coming from cameras mounted on the external stores service system of the helicopter, and they could hear the radio transmissions between the CIC (Command Information Center) and the strike force.

“
John Paul Jones
, CIC, this is Phoenix. We have a visual.”

Even as Willie Stark reported his visual, the TV screens that were displaying the video camera feeds from the helicopter showed the Russian trawler and the Venezuelan destroyer on the ocean below. The two vessels had come together.

“Phoenix, this is Mad Dog, do you have the video?”
Tom asked from the helicopter.

“We have the video, Mad Dog,” Bob replied. “Ask your pilot to make one low pass over the two ships, then give me a freeze frame. I'd like to get a look at what they are carrying.”

Then a moment later, Tom's voice came back.
“Beginning the pass now.”

On the screen that was receiving video from the helicopter, the horizon suddenly tilted sharply to the left as the pilot made a ninety degree turn.

For just a moment Bob had a flashback, and he could feel himself back in the right seat of a UH-1D. Subconsciously his hand moved the cyclic stick to the right, and, through a deeply imbedded ghost memory, his foot applied pressure to the right anti-torque pedal.

Through the camera lens, Bob, Jake, and the others watching saw the aircraft level out, then head straight for the Russian trawler. The helicopter was so low that, when it approached the boat it had to climb, slightly, to keep from crashing into it. Then the horizon dropped away so that only sky could be seen, and Bob could practically feel the collective stick under his armpit as the pilot had put it into a rather steep climb.

“Freeze frame coming up,”
Captain Virdin said from the
John Paul Jones.

The picture on the screen changed from sky to a still picture of the deck of the boat. There were six men on the deck of the
Pashkov
and they could be seen so clearly that everyone who was watching the video could actually pick out moles and imperfections on their faces.

“There they are, Bob!” Jake said.

Bob saw, too, what they were looking for: five oblong tubes, each marked with the international symbol for radioactive material.

“Do they look like soldiers to you?” Bob asked.

“No, they don't.”

“Whoa! We're taking fire here!”
Tom's voice suddenly called.

“From the trawler?” Bob asked in surprise.

“
No, from the rendezvous ship . . . the
Gomez
!
”

“Captain Virdin, do you have the
Gomez
in sight?”

“Aye, aye, Mr. President.”
Virdin's voice came back over the speaker.

“Take it out. I say again, Take it out,” Bob ordered.

“Lieutenant Lester, what kind of activity do you see?” Virdin asked.

Lester was looking at the Venezuelan ship through his binoculars.

“Sir, they've fired at the helo, and they're clearing away their missile tubes.”

“Sound general quarters,” Virdin ordered.

Hitting a button that sounded a klaxon throughout the ship, the boatswain's mate of the watch brought the silver call, cupped in his right hand, to his lips and let fly a long shrill whistle. His voice then barked over the 1MC.

Again, the klaxon sounded, and again the boatswain mate's whistle rose in pitch, then fell.

The CIC, below decks just below the bridge, bristled with radar screens, infrared imaging screens, computer monitors, and an array of switches and dials. Virdin picked up the phone. “Weapons!” he barked.

“Missiles incoming, sir!” one of the CIC operators called out.

“Weapons, engage!”

The ship echoed with the sound of the four Phalanx weapons firing. Several thousand rounds per minute of forty millimeter shells lashed out toward the two incoming missiles. Both missiles were destroyed.

Virdin picked up the phone.

“Weapons?”

“Launch Tomahawk.”

Because of the live-feed video cameras, Bob, Jake, and the others were able to watch the attack from the helicopter's perspective. They watched the Tomahawk missile, riding on a column of flame, streak toward the Venezuelan destroyer at supersonic speed.

As the missile impacted, the ship exploded in a tremendous ball of fire. The explosion caused instantaneous condensation of the air around it, so that the shock waves that formed could actually be seen emanating out from the fireball. The helicopter flew through the smoke, then did a very sharp one-hundred-eighty degree turn to get another look.

The ship was burning profusely, and going down by the bow.

The helicopter then made another pass toward the fishing trawler and seven men could be seen standing on the deck with their hands over their heads.

“General,” Bryan said. “If you can get me patched through to that boat, I think I can get them to cooperate.”

“All right. Willie, can we do that?”

“Yes, sir, we can do it through the
John Paul Jones
,” Willie replied.

“Captain, Virdin, open your channel to us. We're going to try and speak to the captain of the Russian trawler.”

“Captain, this is Bryan Gates. Open that channel and I'll call them.”

“All right,”
Virdin said. Then, a moment later,
“Mr. Gates, go ahead, the channel is open.”

“
.