Master Sergeant Collins immediately spoke up; this was her area of expertise. “Yes Admiral, the DongFeng-5 B version is MIRV capable. It can carry up to six warheads. Some of the warheads may actually be dummies, intended to spoof our defenses to help aid the actual warheads in getting through,” she said confidently.
The Admiral nodded in acknowledgement of the information, and then turned back to look at the large monitor tracking the incoming missiles, deep in thought. They could now see the THAAD and SM-6 missiles starting to intercept the original twenty-three ballistic missiles, blotting some of them out of the sky. The missiles that had been heading towards the US battlegroup had been successfully intercepted, and so had the three missiles heading towards Seoul.
One hundred and fifty miles south of Seoul, two of the three missiles headed towards the American Air Force Base Kunsan were blotted from the sky by THAAD and Patriot missile batteries. Then, the screen whited out- the third missile detonated its 30-kiloton warhead. In that second, nearly 40,000 US and ROK service members and civilians were killed instantly by the initial blast. Another 60,000 or so would be injured, possibly dying painfully later from the exposure to radiation. North Korea had just detonated the first nuclear weapon against another nation since World War II with devastating effect.
Despite the klaxon alarms, the room suddenly seemed silent… but there would be no time to mourn. While people were still digesting the fact that Kunsan Airbase had just been wiped out, another missile detonated over Wonju Airbase, home of the ROK’s Northern Combat Command. That missile killed another 52,000 people and injured nearly 100,000 more. It had also effectively wiped out nearly 40 % of the entire South Korean Air Force, along with the majority of their leadership. The screen showed that the remaining missiles were successfully intercepted, though that did little to comfort those who had just died or were gravely injured.
Admiral Robinson spoke loudly to the stunned members of the ops center. “Listen up, everyone. We still have incoming missiles heading to the US. Get your heads in the game. We can grieve the losses later. I need everyone to focus on the tasks at hand,” he said, breaking them out of their initial shock.
Turning to his targeting officer, he demanded, “What nuclear assets do we have ready to respond right now?”
One of the targeters responded, “We have an Ohio class submarine in the area. We also have a B-2 armed with nuclear weapons that can respond immediately.”
The Admiral thought it over for a moment. He was about to call Air Force One and request permission to launch a counterstrike against the North. The incoming missiles still had close to twenty minutes before they would be over the US; another ten minutes and the interceptors would be in range.
His mind also raced back to China. “Was this a Chinese missile strike?” he wondered. “They were Chinese missiles, but they had been fired from inside Korea.”
I am Death, the Destroyer of Men
President Gates had just taken his seat and clipped his seatbelt on when Marine One began to take off towards Andrews Air Force Base, where Air Force One was located; the chopper was clipping through the air at a faster pace than the President was used to, and he started to feel a bit of motion sickness as they whizzed through the air.
As Marine One settled down onto the tarmac near his presidential aircraft, one of his Secret Service agents received a call. “Sir, one of the ICBMs is heading towards Washington DC,” the agent informed him.
It was terrifying to think that a nuclear missile was headed towards Washington and there was virtually nothing he could do to stop it other than hope the military was able to save the city. “Is this my fault?” Gates wondered. “Did I somehow cause all of this to happen?”
There wasn’t any more time to think. The President was rushed from the helicopter by a host of agents, who practically carried him up the stairs to the aircraft. Once Gates was aboard Air Force One, the door immediately closed. The President looked over and saw his wife, Melissa, and his twelve-year old son Connor, safely strapped into their seats. He sat down next to them.
“Pat, I’m so worried,” said his wife nervously. It had been a while since the President had heard anyone address him by his first name, and only his wife used that nickname for Patrick; usually, when she called him Pat, she was on the verge of tears.
Gates grabbed his wife’s hand. Unsure what to say, he simply replied, “Me too.”
Connor interjected, “Dad, what is going on? Why did the Secret Service come grab me out of my class at school and throw me in a car to rush me here?”
“I can’t really tell you all the details right now. It’s serious. All we can do right now is pray,” the President explained.
A horrible feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn’t from his crazy helicopter ride. “Here I am, being evacuated from D.C. with my wife and son while a nuclear missile is headed towards the city,” he lamented to himself. “Lord, I really hope the missile defense system will work… my senior advisors and generals have all insisted that the system would work, but those are the same generals and advisors that told me that Russia would never go to war with NATO over Ukraine.”
The roar of the engines was louder than usual as the pilots frantically pushed the heavy plane to get airborne and start to put as much distance between them and the incoming nuclear warheads as humanly possible. Within a couple of minutes, the aircraft leveled out, though it continued a slow climb. The President looked out one of the windows and saw a pair of F-22 Raptors escorting them away from the city.
“Has it really come down to this? Nuclear war… the end of civilization or America?” he wondered.
With the plane settling into its flight plan, the President’s National Security Advisor, Tom McMillan, walked up to him. “Mr. President, we need you to come to the conference room. We have the Commander of NORAD on the video link, and we need you to issue some orders that require your authorization,” he said urgently.
The President was still trying to take in the surreal scene unfolding around them, but he quickly undid his seatbelt and followed his NSA to the briefing room. Several generals were already seated at the table. Not everyone he was used to seeing at a meeting like this was present; the Secretary of Defense was being flown to Site R, at Raven Rock, along with other defense officials. Members of the Cabinet and Congress were being flown to Mount Weather, per the COG plans.
There was also a new face in the room. The President’s new Chief of Staff, retired Army General Liam Greeson, had just joined the White House staff forty-eight hours ago. He was still getting up-to-speed after Gates replaced his predecessor. Despite being new to his position, he was still a retired four-star and knew how to take charge of a situation when it was needed.
The video conference call was already running, and despite traveling through the air, they could clearly see and hear the commander of NORAD, the senior watch officer at the Pentagon.
“He looks nervous,” thought the President.
General Greeson didn’t mince any words. As soon as Gates sat down, he asserted, “We need the update on the missile strikes please.”
“Mr. President, we have confirmation of two nuclear detonations in South Korea. One hit our airbase at Kunsan, the other hit the ROK airbase at Wonju. We estimate that close to 100,000 people were killed, and twice that number injured. We are also tracking ten DongFeng-5 ICBMs heading towards the US-”