In hours, virtually the entire Pacific Ocean was off-limits to the U.S. Navy.
Joe Roma knew all of this was bullshit. First, he knew from intelligence reports that all nuclear weapons had been removed from all Navy warships except some ballistic missile subs, just as they had been removed from American bombers, since 1991—and nothing that he had been briefed lately caused him to believe that the recent incidents with China had altered that policy. It was possible that the President had changed his mind and rearmed hundreds of capital warships around the world in less than a month, but Roma thought it very unlikely.
Second, nuclear warheads do not go off by themselves, no matter how badly they are abused. Roma knew enough about the inner workings of a modern-day nuclear warhead to know that it would take much more than a crash landing to set it off, even one that had been prearmed and was ready to be released or launched — they had dozens of safety devices and delivery parameters that had to be met before a full nuclear yield could result. If one parameter or interlock was not satisfied, or if there was the slightest bit of damage to a weapon, it simply would not function. It was possible that an accident or internal failure could cause a large non-nuclear explosion, scattering radioactive debris, but a full yield from a damaged weapon, even if it had been prearmed, was virtually impossible.
Bottom line: the nuclear device had to have been set. The protests in Yokusuka Harbor before the Independence set sail would have provided the perfect opportunity for a terrorist to plant a device somewhere on the hull.
But for some reason no one was suggesting this might be the work of a terrorist. There were plenty of so-called experts on all of the networks, and almost all of them were blaming the United States for sloppy handling of nuclear weapons during a time of crisis caused by the United States flying stealth bombers all over Asia. The United States government, and President Kevin Martindale and his administration in particular, were being blamed for the deaths of nearly six thousand American soldiers, the loss of fifteen billion dollars’ worth of military hardware, the astronomical environmental disaster that was likely to occur in northeastern Japan and the northern Pacific Ocean, and for threatening the world with thermonuclear war.
While Roma had a “compose new message” window open on his computer answering other messages, he decided to drop a line to his old teacher and mentor, Lieutenant General Terrill Samson, commander of Eighth Air Force. No doubt Samson was at U.S. Strategic Command headquarters right now, in the huge underground command center that had formerly been the nucleus of the Strategic Air Command. It was a simple message, not demanding a reply: “What’s happening, boss?” along with his phone number and E-mail address. He then forged ahead with the pile of E-mail messages waiting for his response.
Roma was halfway through his list of E-mail messages when he was interrupted by a page. When he tried to return it, he was notified by an electronic voice that he needed a secure telephone to dial it. The only STU phone he knew of was in the command post, so he went over to the command post communications center and dialed the number.
“Samson. Go.”
Roma’s mouth went instantly dry. “General Samson? This is Joe Roma, returning your page.”
“Paisan! How the hell are you?” Terrill Samson asked excitedly. Their times together at the Strategic Warfare Center had always been relaxed and informal, more like a college campus or pro sports team rather than a strict military unit. And Terrill Samson had been like a pro football coach — unrelenting and harsh at practices, demanding and disciplined during the missions, but not afraid to share a cigar and a pitcher of beer or two after a successful game.
“I’m doing fine, sir.”
“Got your message,” Samson said. “I’m sure you’ve got to be knee- deep in the generation out there, right?”
“That’s an understatement, sir,” Roma said.
“You pulling a line?”
“Sortie one,” Roma replied. “The other lines are coming up slow but sure.”
“I thought you were the S-01 crew IOSO.” The S-01 crew Instructor Offensive Systems Officer was the number one bombardier of the best, most experienced crew on the base — that slot belonged to Joe Roma.
“They put me with E-05,” Roma said. “Great crew, but they got no experience with SIOP stuff. Hardly anyone does around here — the maintained, logistics, crewdogs, even some of the commanders.”
“That’s why we got you old warhorses pulling crews, paisan,” Samson said. “Something else on your mind, Joe? I’m a little busy.”
“Yeah,” Roma said, his mind reeling after what had to be the understatement of the century. He hesitated a moment, unsure whether or not he should bring this up, then decided, what the helclass="underline" “General, what in hell are we doing loading nukes? I’m not criticizing you or my orders, and you know I’ll do the job, but what’s out there that we can’t blow up with a GATS/GAM or conventional cruise missile?”
“Do I have to explain the whole concept of nuclear deterrence to you, paisan?” Samson asked, with only a hint of humor in his voice. “Just do everything by the book and you guys will be fine.”
“Sure, we’ll be fine, sir,” Roma said. “But the whole concept of using forty kilotons to destroy an entire city is silly, when all we need to do to stop the enemy is blow up a command post or comm center or runway. If the nukes did something that conventional bombs couldn’t do, I could understand what’s going on, but the nukes… well, hell, sir, you know what I’m talking about. We discussed this lots of times at the SWC.”
“You’re preaching to the choir here, my friend,” Samson said. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Give me a few hours and I’ll put together a few B-l sorties that’ll stop the Chinese dead in their tracks,” Roma said confidently. “Load us up with some GBUs and some real defense-suppression stuff and tell us what the targets are, General — me and the boys will take them out for you. We don’t need the nukes.”
“The word came down from CINCSTRATCOM, not me,” Samson said, referring to Admiral Henry T. Danforth, commander in chief of U.S. Strategic Command. “The admiral said he wanted the bombers to go formal to the big dance.|
“Does he really intend to use the nukes, sir?” Roma asked.
“Hell, Joe, you know that all we need to do is prove to the bad guys that we might use them, demonstrate our resolve, and we’ve won,” Samson said. “The boss thinks that generating the bombers and sticking them back on alert will show the Chinese and everyone else that we mean business.”
It was the old Cold War schtick, Roma thought, and frankly, he thought he’d never hear the “party line” from Terrill Samson. Samson’s basic philosophy was very simple: give him an objective, and he’ll find a way to do it. Even if the White House had given Samson a vague order like “Stop China,” Samson would have found a way to do it — and without using nuclear weapons, which Roma knew Samson thought were barbaric at best and murderous at worst. “Loading nukes on the Beaks and Bones isn’t going to convince anyone of anything, sir, and you know it,” Roma argued.