Dozens of other fighter planes from Canada, the U. S. Air Force, the U. S. Navy, and the U. S. Marine Corps were airborne in a matter of minutes and assumed their combat air-patrol patterns over strategic positions and major metropolitan areas. Dozens of aerial tankers, including KC-135S, KC-130S, and KC-10s, were soon airborne to provide the thirsty fighters with fuel.
Two U. S. Air Force Boeing E-3 Airborne Warning and Control System (AWACS) aircraft from the 552d Air Control Wing at Tinker AFB, Oklahoma City, were providing long-range radar surveillance for the fighter planes. The AWACS mission specialists and the mission crew commanders were primed and ready to direct fighter intercepts against potential bogeys. After a reasonable amount of time to allow possible threats to land at a suitable airport, the fighter pilots received new orders from NORAD.
They were to intercept anything flying in their assigned areas and escort it to the nearest suitable airfield. If they encountered any aircraft that did not respond to radio communications or hand signals, the pilots had blanket permission to shoot it down, preferably over empty fields or sparsely populated areas.
NORAD would continue to direct air operations over Canada and the United States from three subordinate headquarters located at Tyndall AFB, Florida; Elmendorf AFB, Alaska; and Canadian Forces Base, Winnipeg, Manitoba.
Panic ensued in New York when tens of thousands of motorists most of whom were unprepared for an evacuation, clogged the freeways and principal highways heading south and west. Fearing more attacks on high-profile targets, most of the drivers left with only what they were wearing. Many of them soon ran out of gas, causing massive traffic jams and short tempers. Lines at service stations stretched for half a mile to a mile before the stations began running out of fuel.
With the airlines grounded at Newark, La Guardia, and Kennedy, idle passenger trains were soon mobbed. Others crowded into New York Citys subways to escape the dreaded radiation fallout.
Manhattan was in a state of gridlock, with the bridges and tunnels closed for security reasons. The National Guard was mobilized, and off-duty law enforcement officers were called to work. The mayor of New York City and the governor of New York were soon on television offering reassurance and calming words.
After the suicide attack at the Waterford 3 Nuclear Power Plant west of the Big Easy, the Vieux Carre was almost deserted in a matter of twenty-five minutes. Interstate 10 was bumper-to-bumper from the heart of New Orleans to Slidell. North of Slidell, motorists who still had fuel branched out on Interstate 59 north or Interstate 10 east-bound. Once they reached that point, fuel was readily available.
Unlike New York City, there was not the same degree of panic in the Crescent City, but thousands of people were rapidly moving away from the radiation fallout and likely targets, including the Superdome and high-rise buildings. Most individuals fleeing east and northeast simply wanted to get out to "flyover country" and find a motel or hotel until they were sure the situation was reasonably under control. The only person who could assure them was President Macklin.
With the Crystal River Nuclear Power Plant well north of the Tampa-St. Petersburg metropolitan complex, and the prevailing west-to-east wind, most people wanted to stay and protect their businesses and personal property. Several wealthy families left their domestic help to watch their mansions while they traveled south in their yachts.
A much larger percentage of the Tampa-St. Petersburg citizens packed their vehicles and drove south to Fort Myers; some went as far as the Fort Lauderdale-Miami area, and a few thousand descended on the Florida Keys and Key West. Hotel rooms quickly sold out, and many enterprising guests began subleasing their rooms for double the rate.
The folks who were in the most peril were the people of Crystal River, located on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. To a person, they were fearful for their lives. Some headed north or south on Highway 19 to escape being contaminated with radiation. A few families gathered together in church, while others stayed home and prayed for the best.
Chapter 11
When Hartwell Prost walked into the Situation Room, there was an underlying feeling of tension in the air. Not panic, but a growing sense of uneasiness at this early hour of the morning. To a person, they were asking themselves the same question: What next?
Flanking the stone-faced president were Pete Adair, secretary of defense; Les Chalmers, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; Jim Ebersole, FBI director; George Anderson, cabinet-level director of homeland security; Army General Jeremiah Jamison, commander, Homeland Security; the director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA); and a representative of the National Domestic Preparedness Office.
"Have a seat," the president said quietly. "Gentlemen, before we begin, I should tell you that these civilian planes — business jets — that targeted our nuclear power plants were either stolen or purchased by the terrorists, we dont know which. Either way, this brings another dimension, another unknown into the equation, and more uncertainty for all Americans."
Macklin paused as his emotions began to seep to the surface. "We 11 address this new threat in detail later. At the moment, George is going to bring us up to date on the damage." He loosened his tie and looked Anderson in the eye. "George, how many casualties so far?"
"At least twenty-one so far at the Indian Point plant, and it will be much higher before the day is over." Anderson was not his usual confident, effusive self. "It s going to take some time to sift through the rubble."
"What about the other plants?"
"We dont have any firm numbers from the other sites yet, but it's my understanding from our sources in the Tampa-St. Pete area that we can expect heavy casualties at the Crystal River location." Nervous and uneasy Anderson took a sip of water. "The airplane that crashed into the Indian Point plant hit the turbine building and some adjacent structures. Its a real mess." He hesitated and then removed his glasses. "The explosion destroyed the equipment that is necessary to bring the plant to a safe and stable shutdown."
The room was quiet until Prost spoke. "Are you saying we have a Chernobyl-type situation, a meltdown in progress?"
Avoiding Prost's prying eyes, Anderson stared at his briefing notes for a long moment. "Yes, I'm afraid so."
"Oh, Jesus," Pete Adair said, under his breath. He cast a look at the director of homeland security "How much radiation is leaking?"
Anderson glanced at the latest numbers from the scientists who studied the disaster at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in the Ukraine. "The best estimate is roughly seven to ten percent into the atmosphere. That's just an educated guess from the resident experts at the International Atomic Energy Agency."
"Translate," Macklin demanded.
"Well, sir, there will be significant contamination at the site and in the area east of the plant. Beyond that, the radiation should be carried over the Atlantic by the prevailing winds."
The president's shoulders sagged in relief. I hope he's right. "What's the situation in New York City?"
"Not good, sir. The shelters were filled to capacity within thirty minutes of the attack; others are using the subway stations as shelters."
Macklin removed his glasses and looked at his FEMA director. "What are we doing to help those people?"