“What have you got, Harlan?” Cole asked Major Harlan Laughlin, the command post senior controller.
“Message from the Pentagon, National Military Command Center,” Laughlin replied. “We’re officially in DEFCON Four. Strategic Command is generating the bombers for SIOP operations.”
Cole sucked in his breath as the tension crept across his neck and forehead like hot air from a bonfire. Defense Configuration Four officially placed selected portions of the Air Force’s B-52 Stratofortress, B-1B Lancer, B-2 Black Knight stealth bombers, and other tactical aircraft, including the RF-111G Vampire, into Strategic Command — they were back into the strategic nuclear warfighting business, known as the SIOP, or the Single Integrated Operations Plan, the computerized “playbook” for World War III.
As an experienced Air Force commander and former Pentagon officer, Cole was very familiar with DEFCON Four — that was a low-threat war footing, the readiness level at which they had operated from the end of the Cuban Missile Crisis to the end of 1991. During the Cold War, DEFCON Four was considered “normal,” with hundreds of bombers and thousands of nuclear-armed missiles poised to strike at the first sign of a large-scale attack. Now, after years at DEFCON Five, which was total peacetime readiness, DEFCON Four suddenly felt like the beginning of the end of the world.
“STRATCOM and Air Combat Command issued verified repeat messages,” Laughlin continued. “STRATCOM issued a Posture Two message just now. LOOKING GLASS is airborne.” To further define the actions each unit was to take, STRATCOM messages would direct various “postures,” or levels of readiness. Postures were numbered opposite of DEFCONs — while DEFCON One was all-out war, Posture One was the lowest readiness level; and since Strategic Command, with its huge and powerful deterrent arsenal of long-range nuclear weapons, wanted its forces ready for anything, they usually set a posture level one step higher than the military as a whole.
“Have we established connectivity with LOOKING GLASS?” Cole asked. Strategic Command had its own airborne command post, an EC-135 communications aircraft known as LOOKING GLASS because its sophisticated communications abilities allowed it to “mirror” the actions of the STRATCOM underground command center in Omaha and control all of its nuclear forces — it could even launch land-based nuclear missiles by remote control, once given the proper coded orders from the President of the United States. LOOKING GLASS, which carried a general officer, a battle staff of eight, and a very sophisticated communications suite, would take command of the strategic forces as soon as it entered its orbit area over the central United States, within secure radio range of the ICBM missile silos in Montana, Wyoming, Missouri, and North and South Dakota.
“Not yet, sir. May not be up for another thirty minutes. We still have full connectivity with all headquarters, and LOOKING GLASS is not expected to take command of the force.” This did not make Cole any happier about these circumstances. The commander of Strategic Command could take control of all of America’s nuclear forces at any time from LOOKING GLASS, but the communications networks were not as secure or as reliable. STRATCOM Headquarters in Omaha would retain control until an attack was actually underway.
“Let’s get moving with the checklists,” Cole said grimly as he headed for the battle staff conference room. Major Harlan Laughlin opened up a thick three-ring binder, then followed General Cole into the battle staff conference room. Cole waited until Laughlin had filled out the blank spaces on a series of overhead projection slides and put them up on a screen in the center of the main wall.
“The Posture Two message,” Laughlin began, “establishes an A-Hour, or alert reference hour, and sets the timeline for all other actions. According to the operations plan, the message directs the wing to generate the Alpha-alert combat-capable aircraft for nuclear strike missions.”
“My God,” Cole muttered. He knew, with all the conflicts and turmoil in Europe, that something like this was possible with Velichko in power, but he never truly believed it would really happen.
The alert was even more surprising because everyone, including Cole, assumed that the nation’s fleet of F-111G bombers had been out of the nuclear warfighting business — in fact, he had assumed that the world was out of the nuclear warfighting business. Although most F-111s are capable of delivering nuclear gravity bombs (only the EF-111A “Raven” electronic warfare aircraft is unarmed), and the F-111G could launch long-range air-to-ground nuclear missiles such as the AGM-131 Short Range Attack Missile and the AGM-86 and AGM-129 long-range cruise missiles, the Air Force Reserves’ RF-111G Vampire had been thought to have only a non-nuclear combat role — the B-1, B-2, and B-52 bombers were thought to have taken over the long-range nuclear bombing mission. Now, with this fresh crisis, one of the first planes to be called upon to prepare for nuclear war was none other than a Reserve RF-111G!
General Cole was fully prepared to generate his machines for nuclear warfighting, but the prospect made him uneasy. The prospect of handling nuclear weapons, the required top secret documents and devices, and responding to nuclear strike orders issued from Strategic Command and the Pentagon instead of a theater commander, was not considered a Reservists duty — and yet they had been ordered to do it.
“Preplanned bomber sorties one through six and tanker sorties one-oh-one through one-oh-four will be gained immediately by STRATCOM upon generation,” Laughlin continued, “and will respond to Joint Chiefs of Staff or STRATCOM emergency action messages. The ops plan directs all other bomber and tanker sorties configured in preload status and available for accelerated generation. These follow-on sorties will not respond to STRATCOM or JCS emergency action messages, but unit commanders may be required to ensure the survival of nongenerated aircraft. This would be done by positioning these aircraft in OCCULT EAGLE or FIERY WILDERNESS airborne alert orbits. These will be accomplished by clear-text messages or by hand-delivered messages authenticated by date-time group.”
Laughlin put up slides depicting several large rectangular boxes off the east coast of the United States. OCCULT EAGLE and FIERY WILDERNESS were preplanned airborne alert missions in which nuclear-loaded aircraft were sent to safe orbit areas, far from potential targets, until sent on their grim missions or recalled after the emergency was over.
“Christ almighty,” Cole muttered, scratching his flattop. “This is turning out to be one really lousy day.” On a small bookstand on his desk in the battle staff room, Cole picked a binder labeled “Defcon” and opened it to “Defcon Four.” The binder had checklists that directed all of the battle staff’s initial actions to take when notified of a serious emergency — no major actions, especially something as serious as this, was ever left to memory. Cole turned to Lafferty and said, “Jim, start an Alpha recall immediately. Start running your checklists.” The recall would direct all available wing personnel to report to their duty stations, ready for deployment or for combat — as Reservists, the Alpha recall meant that they were all federalized as soon as they entered the base. “Thank God we got all of the bomber crews and most of the tanker crews on base already.” Cole continued to read and initiate items in his checklist as his staff filed in; then, one by one, he assigned tasks to his staff officers according to the checklists. Soon every telephone in the room was in use by the General’s staff.