“I’m afraid not,” Jacobs said. “Russia has attacked the Ukraine with at least one nuke. The shit, as they say, is really hitting the fan.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“Where the hell have you been, Colonel?” Colonel Lafferty, the wing vice commander, asked a few minutes later as Daren Mace entered the battle staff conference room. “The battle staff meeting ended ten minutes ago.”
“At the bomber recovery,” Mace replied. His fatigues were soaking wet from crawling on the snow-covered plane, and his hair was tousled and sweaty. “I accompanied Furness and Fogelman to the hospital.”
“Daren, I need your ass right here at headquarters,” General Cole interjected. “I understand that it’s important to talk with the crews and see the damage yourself, but we’ve got a generation to run here.”
“Sir, did you receive a report on Furness and Fogelman yet?” Mace interjected. He turned to Greg McGwire, the Operations Group commander, and asked, “Do you know what the status of your crewmembers is, Colonel McGwire?”
“No, but what does that have to do with—”
“Well, I know, because I bothered to goddamn ask,” Mace said, obviously angry at being rebuffed simply because he was more concerned about the crews than the machines. “If we’re generating SIOP sorties, I think it’s important to know the condition of those you’re handing the codes to, don’t you think, sir?
“Major Furness appears unhurt. Mark Fogelman is still unconscious with head injuries. Our movie star, Ted Little, is being examined for a mild concussion. The flight surgeon says that all of them might need a staff PRP evaluation before being allowed back on flying status. That means two crews and two planes down for now.” He paused for a moment, then averted his eyes, just enough to show Cole or McGwire that he wasn’t trying to challenge anyone, then added, “With all due respect, sir, you can’t always run a generation from the command post.”
General Cole appeared angry and ready to blast back at Mace, but instead he took a deep breath, simmering, then said, “Thank you for the report, Colonel. Just answer the phone when I call, Daren, is that clear?” Mace nodded, then accepted a cup of coffee and a computer printout on the progress of the aircraft generation from Captain Porter. To the Operations Group commander, Cole asked, “John, let’s plan on decertifying Norton and Furness for at least one day, pending a staff review. What will this do to our alert lines?”
“Shouldn’t affect the generation at all, General,” McGwire replied. “All the alert lines are manned. We can put Furness and Norton together on the Charlie alert lines — as an instructor, Furness is fully qualified as a weapons system officer — which won’t come up for at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours. That means we’ll be only one crew down.”
“That means,” Colonel Lafferty interjected, “that we’re only one crew or two planes short of going combat-ineffective — and that’s if Fifth Air Battle Force doesn’t take us all down under PRP anyway.”
Mace shook his head at that acronym — he thought he had heard the last of PRP. The Personnel Reliability Program was established in the early years of the Strategic Air Command to certify crewmembers who handled nuclear weapons in any manner. Each person cleared for nuclear duties had to pass a stringent set of physical and psychological standards in order to be cleared for “special”—i.e., nuclear weapon — duties. Certain serious personal occurrences — illness, taking medication, hospitalization, accidents, a personal or family crisis, anything that might cause a person to “not be himself” in any way — would prompt a commander to “decertify” a crewmember, or remove him or her from nuclear duties. Fogelman was definitely off PRP. Under normal circumstances, Colonel Hembree, the bomber squadron commander, would have certainly taken Paula Norton, Ted Little, Rebecca Furness, and maybe even the other two crews in Furness’ formation immediately off PRP as well, even though none was injured; a close call like theirs might make them a bit reluctant to fly or might distract them from the dangerous job of handling a nuclear-loaded bomber.
There was seldom any hesitation in temporarily pulling a crewmember’s PRP certification — temporary decertification did not affect a crewmember’s career or official records. The safe play was to yank PRP — except when it appeared that the whole world was getting ready to go to war. Unless the crewmember showed clear signs of stress, injury, or emotional trauma, they would be kept on the line getting their bombers ready to fight.
“Okay,” Cole said, “let’s go over the generation so far. I’d like to start with an intelligence briefing. Major Pierce?”
“Yes, sir.” Pierce got to his feet and walked over to a map of Eastern Europe, showing western Russia and the Black Sea region. “As you all know by now, the Russians launched a large-scale air attack against the Ukraine, using low-yield tactical nuclear devices, and they used non-nuclear bombs and cruise missiles against military targets in Romania and Moldova. The goal of the attack was obviously to destroy the Ukraine’s main offensive and defensive air bases, and to cripple Romania’s and Moldova’s military units and stop them from mounting any sort of offensive against the Russians living in the Dniester region of eastern Moldova.
“The reports call it a Desert Storm-type air assault, with AS-4 cruise missiles launched from Backfire bombers and AS-15 cruise missiles carried by Blackjack supersonic bombers, followed up by gravity bomb and short-range missile attacks by Bear and Badger long- and medium-range jet bombers,” Pierce added, putting up a slide of the suspected Russian staging bases, the types and numbers of bombers, and their suspected routes of flight. “Ukrainian air defense stations reportedly engaged the heavy bombers, but they had no chance to stop them. Reportedly a few of the AS-4 and -15 nuclear cruise missiles were shot down by Ukrainian air defenses, but a total of four nuclear detonations were recorded.
“If there’s a bright spot to this horrible attack,” Pierce continued, “it’s the fact that the Russians didn’t use the normal 350- or 200-kiloton nuclear warheads in the AS-4 and AS-15 missiles. They apparently used those rinky-dink RKY-2 devices, which are very small enhanced radiation devices normally used on battlefield nuclear artillery shells. The difference with these devices is that they have no outer shell of uranium to collect and capture neutrons — the neutrons from the first fission explosion are released. Therefore, there are no typical nuclear bomb effects: no gigantic shock wave, no thermal blast effects, no craters, no fallout, no lingering radiation. Their yield is equivalent to about a two-kiloton nuclear device—”
“Neutron bombs,” General Cole muttered. “People-killers.”
“Exactly, sir,” Pierce said. “The neutron stream from the explosion can penetrate unshielded structures with ease. Personnel in shielded vehicles, properly constructed underground shelters, or wearing nuclear-chemical-biological exposure suits are safe, and protected individuals can enter the attack area almost immediately after the detonation.”
“And anyone not in shelters or wearing suits?” Colonel McGwire asked.
Major Pierce shuffled uneasily, checked his notes, cleared his throat, then said, “Within a half-mile from ground zero, death from radiation poisoning will occur within twelve hours. Inside two miles from ground zero, death will occur within three to five days, even with medical treatment, depending on distance and level of exposure. Injuries from burns, shock, overpressure, and flashblindness are common within two miles as well.” The battle staff was too stunned to react. Of all the ways to die, death from massive radiation poisoning had to be the worst conceivable way — slow, painful, and horrible.