“Very good. Between us, we should be able to get some order out of this muck,” he said.
“I will get back with you as soon as I can,” said O’Bannon as he hung up the phone. He turned to the others. “Well, you heard it. We implement Plan Alpha immediately. As the first part of that plan, the allied leaders have all decided on who will be the Supreme Allied Commander in Europe. That individual will be packing his bags and getting over there pronto. There’s a lot to set up and a lot to get going.” He turned to Hammond. “Admiral Hammond, you have been unanimously selected to be that commander. I need you to set up your staff and get over there. I also want you to pass along your recommendations for who your American commanders will be. You will then need to begin making plans on how we will all get through this war. Normally, I would ask you to do something like this, but in this case, it’s an order. I just need it to happen. Do you have any questions?”
Hammond looked like he had been run over by a truck. After a moment he questioned, “Are you sure?”
It was General Black who responded. “Damnit man, of course we’re sure. We don’t need some pasty faced flunky over there, we need someone to command. Hell, even the French recognize this. Roger, you have the trust and confidence of everyone in this room. Just do the best you can and we’ll back you up,” Black expounded.
The CNO almost laughed, “Hell, Roger, I’m sure you caught wind of this by all those interviews. It can’t be that much of a surprise,” he said.
“I know, but I’m an admiral. I know the sea, not large scale battlefields. Surely you can’t…”
The President held up his hand. “Roger, put the modesty away. You will have plenty of people hanging around to make sure you don’t make those kinds of mistakes. Just make your plans and get the job done,” he said.
“I think your plan is made anyway,” said Black. “I read over that plan you gave me. I like it. Like it a lot. It’s daring and should scare the bejesus out of the Russians. Yes, there needs to be a little polish and some more details, but you have my vote. It goes along with what the President wants and should take the heat off the Eastern Front. Why not go with it?” Black said.
The President looked over at him. “You already have a plan?”
Hammond gave a slight chuckle. “You know I didn’t write that plan. One of my officers did.”
Black looked puzzled. “Just one officer? I thought you had a staff working on it.”
Hammond shook his head. “No, I challenged a young man to come up with something as an exercise. Little did I know he would produce the kind of document you read. I have shared it around a little and so far, everyone likes it.”
“Who the hell wrote it then?” Black asked.
Hammond grinned, “My Flag Lieutenant, Lieutenant Rod Jeffers.”
The President grinned. “You have a copy of this thing? I want to read it.”
It had been a routine flight. The takeoff from JFK International had been normal, and the people in the cabin were dozing in their seats on the flight from New York to Heathrow in London. The pilot kept his eyes on the dials and gages, but the plane was on autopilot and everything was smooth. Suddenly there was a crackle on the frequency of 121.5 MHz, the International Air Distress frequency. “Civilian airliner on my right, this is Russian Naval fighter. You are requested to turn around and return to your departure point. If you continue on your course, you will force us to shoot you down. Do you understand, over.”
The pilot sat forward in his seat and looked over at the copilot. Both had a questioning look on their face. He then turned and looked out the cockpit window. There, on the left side of the airliner were the flashing lights illuminating a fighter jet aircraft. “He must be joking,” the pilot said.
“Civilian airliner on my right, this is Russian Navy fighter. I say again, you are requested to turn around and return to your departure point. If you continue on your course, you will force us to shoot you down. Do you understand, over,” said the voice again.
The pilot picked up the microphone. “Russian fighter, this is American Airlines flight 1204 bound for Heathrow. You haven’t the authority to force us back, over.”
“American Airlines, the government of Russia is now at war with the United States and the European nations. We will allow no further flights. Either you turn around or I will consider you hostile and will shoot you down. You have one minute to comply,” came the reply.
The pilot watched as the jet pulled back and then took up a position toward the rear of the aircraft. Looking around, two more planes had joined him. The pilot looked at his copilot. “He means it. We are not yet at the point of no return. I think we should turn back,” he said.
“I agree,” said the copilot.
“Russian fighter, we will comply,” the pilot said in the radio. “I am turning left.”
The Boeing 747 banked to the left and turned back toward New York.
In the Russian fighter, Viktor Yuelov let out a slow breath. Shooting down an airliner was not something he wanted to do. This had been the first intercept. There were five more behind them that he would have to confront. He hoped they would be just as cooperative.
“Sir, we have reports of airliners being turned back to the United States by Russian fighters about half way to Great Britain,” said a young Marine.
“Mid-ocean? How could they get fighters that far out?” questioned General Foote of the Air Force.
“They had their carriers underway,” said the CNO. “It may be they are setting up a line of ships and daring anyone to cross it.”
“Damn it! Is there not any way to stop this? We are about to bleed to death here,” the President expounded. “I need to get hold of this situation so that we can do something constructive.”
“We can,” said Hammond. “I would recommend we do what that threat summary of ours said we might do. Get word to our submarines to commence unrestricted submarine warfare against the Russians. Ship or sub, if it gets within range, sink it,” he said with authority.
“Do we have enough to do the job?” the president asked.
“Mister President, we currently have thirty seven of our submarines at sea. They can get things started. I am ordering our SEALS and our Mine Countermeasures units to clear all the channels. Within two days I should have enough to at least take care of that line in the sand, as you call it. Then everything that floats will get loaded and ready. That way, once we do get some things going, it can be at short notice,” the CNO said confidently.
“I have already ordered our reserve units activated,” said the Army Chief of Staff. “Once I get them trained and set up, we can move anywhere you need as long as I have transport.”
“Same here,” said Foote. “We’ll be ready. We just need to know where to go.”
The Marine Commandant chuckled. “You already know the answer from the Corps,” he grinned. Black gave him a wink.
“What shall we do about our carriers?” asked the President.
“That’s a big problem,” said the CNO. “I’m going to need to talk to some people about that. Some damage might be easier to fix than others. I need more info.”
“We have more than you think,” said Hammond at the other end of the table.
“How’s that? You planning on bringing back some older equipment again?” asked the Chief of Staff.
“Not this time. We have all these LHAs and LHDs with flat decks. True, they can’t hold all the same aircraft as a carrier, but load them full of F-35 Lightnings and they can sure mess up somebody’s day,” he said.
The CNO nodded. “He’s right. They can act as fighters and carry munitions. The Lightnings can operate anywhere a Harrier could. Those ships could do the trick.”