Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 01 (24 page)

 
          
“Most
of our analysis centers around the nuclear power facility, sir. They have built
what appears to be a five hundred megawatt facility in the middle of nowhere,
without any associated power transmission facilities such as transformers or
transmission towers nearby. Therefore, the power plant is at the exclusive
disposal of the complex itself. The complex is located on the northeast corner
of the
Kamchatka
peninsula, in what used to be a small
fishing village. Its small supply airfield was rebuilt into a full-scale
military airfield, originally for construction supply but now used as a
headquarters for the site’s defenses. About ten thousand people live in the
area, civilian and military.”

 
          
The
aide shifted nervously as all eyes focused on him. “The intelligence vessel
Lawrence
has provided valuable data on the energy
blasts reported from the complex, and we have concluded that a laser blast of
approximately two to three hundred megawatts could have caused the electronic
interference reported in the area and could indeed have sufficiently damaged
both the Alpha Omega satellite and the
Javelin
missile. The power of the tracking radar could only have come from the nuclear
power plant.”

 
          
“Weren’t
we watching the construction of the facility?” the President asked. “How could
they build something of this magnitude and then spring it on us so suddenly?
Why were we so surprised?”

 
          
“CIA
and DIA have been watching the construction of Kavaznya for four years, sir,”
Mitchell said, “but. .. well, to tell the truth, sir, we really didn’t think
too much of their activities there. It has been impossible to get informants
anywhere near the complex. We had noticed activity akin to weapons experiments
or construction there, so we pegged it simply as a new weapons research
facility. The powerful radar wasn’t found until the RC-135 mission. We never
imagined—we had no idea that the Russians were building an antisatellite or
antiballistic-missile laser there.”

 
          
“Are
we really that arrogant,” the President said to everyone in the room. “If the
Americans can’t do it, nobody can. Is that it?”

 
          
Mitchell
was quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat and nodded to his aide to
continue. The President didn’t let him.

 
          
“So
we are decided,” the President asked, “that there exists a powerful
antiballistic-missile laser device at this Kavaznya complex?”

 
          
Mitchell
glanced at
Preston
, then at Curtis. “The data seems all but
conclusive, Mr. President.”

 
          
“Goddamn,”
the President murmured, then nodded at Mitchell’s aide: “Go on.”

 
          
“As
I’ve said, the Soviets have constructed a huge power plant exclusively for use
by the killer laser. They can easily pump over three hundred megawatts into
their laser, and they can continue to do so shot after shot. We believe, once
they’ve worked the kinks out—and it won’t be long now—that they can fire the laser
at full power twice every second. Potentially, over a hundred satellites a
minute.”

 
          
“Or
ICBM warheads,” the President said.

 
          
“That’s
only a projection, sir,” Mitchell interjected. “Hitting a geosynchronous
satellite is a relatively easy trick. Besides, the Omega was only blinded—the
Air Force had to push it into the atmosphere themselves because it was out of
control and they were trying to retrieve it intact if possible. That means the
laser is not as powerful as we originally believed.

 
          
“And
the Midgetman missile was only slightly damaged by the laser. We had to abort
it,” Mitchell continued. “As a matter of fact, we don’t agree with General
Curtis that the laser caused the missile to malfunction. There are a number of
things that could have caused a premature third stage ignition—”

 
          
“The
laser
could
easily have caused it to
malfunction,” Curtis said.

 
          
“General,
I agree it could,” Mitchell said, raising a hand. “But that’s your
conclusion—not the CIA’s. Finding and hitting an ICBM warhead is infinitely
more difficult than finding and hitting these other targets we’ve been talking
about. The Omega the Soviets downed is several times larger than an ICBM
warhead, and it was stationary. The Midgetman is another huge target, easily
tracked and disabled. Besides, it was alone—a retaliatory American ICBM strike
would involve hundreds of missiles and thousands of warheads. The laser might
tag a few, but not many. Certainly not enough to justify the huge expense of
that complex.”

 
          
“What
about the RC-135?” Curtis asked.

 
          
“The
most vulnerable of all the targets,” Mitchell said quickly. “Slow- moving,
large, and the closest to the site. And that’s
if
the RC-135 was downed by the laser—that hasn’t been proved yet.”
Before Curtis could object, Mitchell quickly added: “Although the CIA believes
there’s more than enough information to conclude that it was.”

 
          
The
President shook his head. “The nuclear power plant, the laser facility, the
radar, and the laser cannon. All in one tiny fishing town on the
Kamchatka
peninsula ...”

 
          
“Along
with two squadrons of MIG-27 Fulcrums, a squadron of MIG-25 Flogger Gs, two
SA-10 surface-to-air missile sites, possibly two antiaircraft artillery sites,
and early-warning radar picket ships patrolling the coast when the ice breaks
up,” Mitchell added. “A seagull can’t get close to that site without the
Soviets spotting it.”

 
          
The
President’s frustration was etching deep furrows in his forehead and at the
corners of his eyes, and he tried to massage the pain out of both. “Anything
else?” he asked.

 
          
“Yes,
sir,” U.N. Ambassador Adams said, standing. “The United Nations Security
Council session. When I accused the Soviets of firing a laser at the recon
plane, Karmarov lost his usual cool and jumped down my throat denying it. But
the official Soviet position remains the same—they maintain the right to
protect their shores and deny launching a missile or ordering a fighter to
attack the RC-135. They never specifically denied shooting it down with a
laser—”

 
          
“That’s
because the idea is so unbelievable,” Mitchell said, echoing the President’s
earlier comment. “Our Strategic Defense Initiative was called Star Wars for a
reason—it was meant as a futuristic, long-range plan. We never expected to have
an operational system before the turn of the century—it’s even more incredible
that the Soviets would have one.”

 
          
“Yet
the evidence unfortunately points to the contrary,” Marshall Brent said. “Mr.
President, I must add my concern to that of Gregory. I have met with Ambassador
Karmarov myself—”

 
          
“You
did?” the President asked, surprised. “When? I never heard anything about it.”

 
          
“I
went to his residence quite unannounced,” Brent said. “It had the desired
effect—Karmarov lost his famous poker face. He all but admitted . . . he’d deny
it, of course . . . that such a defensive laser device existed. I believe our
meeting resulted in the Soviet’s face-saving decision to enter into a ‘mutual’
investigation.”

 
          
“Which
has never taken place,” Curtis said. “They lied to us from the beginning.”

 
          
Brent
paused, then crossed in front of the President’s desk and faced him. “Karmarov
mentioned another important point, sir: If it is proven to the world that the
anti-satellite laser exists, the Soviets can also prove that such a device does
not violate any international treaty or agreement. It is not a space-based
system like our
Ice Fortress
system,
which violates the 1982 De-Militarization of Space Agreement; nor is it a
violation of any ABM treaty, since neither the 1972 agreement or its 1976
amendment mention
ground-based
laser
systems—the idea of activating such a site was many times more implausible
fifteen years ago than it is today. The orbiting mirror
may
be a violation of the 1982 agreement—if we prove it exists, if
we prove it is a mirror, and if we prove that it was used against an
atmospheric or orbiting vehicle of another country—”

 
          
“But
then they are guilty of murder,” Curtis said. “They should be convicted of
murder. We should demand the dismantling of that laser site as minimal
reparation for their crime.”

 
          
The
Secretary of State shook his head. “We could never prove they downed the RC-135
reconnaissance plane, General,” Brent said. “Even if we had conclusive evidence
that they used their laser system to destroy a satellite and the
Javelin
missile, we could never prove,
or convince, that they turned that laser on an unarmed aircraft. It’s just too
provocative an act to be believed.”

 
          
There
was silence in the President’s office for a long time. No one wanted to speak.
Each could feel a transition taking place. It was the awful transition from
disbelief and even outright denial of what had occurred, to now facing the
realization that the weight of damning evidence dictated that something had to
be done.

 
          
“We
need options, gentlemen,” the President said finally.

 
          
“There
is only one option, sir,”
Adams
said.
“The Soviets must deactivate that laser complex.”

 
          
“They
have absolutely no reason to do that, Gregory,” Brent said quickly. “As I said
before, there is no agreement between our countries prohibiting a ground-based
defensive laser device.”

 
          
“It
sure as hell isn’t just a defensive device,
Marshall
.”

 
          
Brent
held up a hand. “Please, Gregory. What would you argue if you were in the
Soviet’s shoes? Tracking error, technical malfunction, even errors in judgment
on the part of some obscure bureaucrat. The bureaucrat is fired, heads roll,
and the site remains open—”

 
          
“And
a threat,” Curtis put in. “They have already seriously crippled our
intercontinental ballistic missile warning capability.” He turned to the
President. “Sir, the Soviets may claim it’s not an offensive weapon, but as
long as it’s active it can always be used as one. What if they
accidentally
start shooting down
satellites all over the hemisphere? They may agree to pay for the ones they
accidentally destroy, but we’re still out the satellites and the vital
surveillance information they provide.”

 
          
“And
if they have the capability to knock down ICBMs as well . . the President
muttered.

           
“They can easily neutralize
one-third of our land and sea-based missiles,” Curtis said. “And when our
bombers try to attack, they can take pot shots at them. Hell, even turning on
that radar of theirs is enough to scramble the electronics of any aircraft in
the area—”

 
          
“All
right,” the President interrupted. “Damn it, you make it sound like a
preemptive strike is our only option.” He looked angrily at the men around him,
settled on the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.

 
          
“General
Curtis,” the President asked slowly, carefully, “what is the status of your
project at Dreamland?”

 
          
“Currently
deactivated, per your order, Mr. President,” Curtis replied. “We wanted to
avoid any possible provocation during what seemed a cooling off period.”

 
          
“But
it can be reactivated immediately?”

 
          
“Certainly,
sir,” Curtis replied. “I can see to it that the full team is reassembled.”

 
          
The
President hesitated, then rapped his knuckles on his desk. “Then do it.”