“Do these people have a UAV?” he asked Grace.
“None that I’m aware of. Why?”
“Because a UAV just flew right overtop of us. If it doesn’t belong to Houston, then it probably belongs to Uncle Sam.”
“I guess your government is now aware of Houston’s little hideaway,” said Grace.
“Looks that way. Only right now I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
38
Located below the West Wing of the White House, the Situation Room, originally built in 1961 during the Cuban Missile Crisis, was run by the National Security Council. Its sole purpose was to keep the president and his key advisors up-to-date on any potentially volatile situations developing at home or overseas. With the most advanced communications equipment in the world, the president could talk to any of his people anywhere in the world from the Situation Room without their conversation ever being monitored.
Almost to the minute, two hours after giving the order, President Kempt walked into the room. He sat down at his usual spot at the head of the table and looked out at the faces of the men and women in the room. There was no hint of panic. Instead, a calm, but serious, expression was etched on the faces of all of his key advisors. With him in the room were his vice president, his National Security Advisor, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the head of the CIA, and his attorney general. On such short notice, many regular members of the president’s National Security Council had been unable to make it back to the capital. They were, however, present on the many screens spread about the room.
“Okay, let’s get down to business. We all know why we’re here,” said the president, kicking off the meeting. “In order to deal with the very real threat of a Hellfire scenario, we must be prepared to act, and act decisively to neutralize this threat. Every minute we spend debating this issue is a wasted minute in my opinion. Therefore, I would like to ask General Patterson to outline any possible military scenarios he has to deal with this threat.”
Patterson cleared his throat and brought up a schematic of the base on one screen and an infrared picture of the mountain installation on another. “This image is being sent to us via a CIA UAV,” said Patterson. “It is real-time footage, and as you can all see this base is heavily fortified and well-defended. Already a robust structure less than a year ago, the mountain base’s infrastructure was substantially improved. It is doubtful that a conventional bomb could penetrate through the mountain and destroy the installation.”
“General, what about the GBU-43?” asked Dan Leonard.
“Dan, the Massive Ordnance Air Blast bomb has never been used in combat, and my experts tell me that the mountain is too thick for it to penetrate down into the installation,” replied Patterson.
“Okay then, what about a GBU-57 Penetrator bomb?”
“Same thing. It may penetrate the mountain, but fail to blast its way inside the base.”
Kempt jumped in. “Gents, correct me if I’m wrong, but even if one of those bombs managed to penetrate all the way into heart of the installation, there’s no guarantee that the resulting blast would completely eradicate the virus. We can’t afford for even so much as a single microbe to survive. If it got out into the air, there would be no way to predict how fast this unknown strain of anthrax would spread. No, gents, it all has to be destroyed in one massive strike.”
“What about the Albanian army?” said Roger Thomas, Kempt’s Attorney General. “Couldn’t they surround this place until we take it with Special Forces?”
Patterson shook his head. “A ground assault has already been ruled out as being too risky. It would take a battalion of well-trained soldiers to storm that place, and even if they could get inside, there’s no guarantee that the anthrax wouldn’t be released into the air before we could take possession of it.”
Kempt said, “General Patterson’s right. The strike must be from the air, and it must be decisive. There can be no margin for error.”
“Sir, I hope you’re not proposing that we use nuclear weapons,” said the Secretary of State on a screen near the president.
“I hope not, but I want to keep my options open. No matter how horrible they may be,” replied Kempt.
Patterson leaned forward and looked over at Kempt. “Sir, we may have a non-nuclear option that will destroy the base and the anthrax.”
“Go on.”
“Sir, we can use thermobaric bombs to destroy the installation and everything in it.”
Anne Hook interjected, “General, I thought you said that you couldn’t blast your way through the mountain. How will this missile destroy the base and the anthrax without it escaping into the air?”
“Anne, we won’t go through the mountain. Instead, we’ll go in through the front door. We can punch a hole through the base’s blast doors with a couple of laser-guided Paveway bombs. Once the doors are out of the way, we’ll hit the base with two thermobaric bombs. The blast from the thermobaric devices will travel in excess of three kilometers a second. In the blink of an eye, the flames will reach a temperature of over five thousand degrees, incinerating absolutely everything inside the base.”
“What about airtight compartments? Will these themobaric bombs destroy them as well?” asked the president.
“Sir, the pressure wave from the blast will crack them open like eggs; less than a second later, anything and anyone inside those rooms will be incinerated,” replied Patterson.
“The schematic of the base shows that it has multiple levels,” said the vice president. “How can you be sure that you’ll destroy everything underground as well?”
“Sir, the pressure wave created by a single bomb would be more than sufficient for our needs. However, to ensure that the anthrax is one-hundred-percent eradicated, we’re going to hit the base with two bombs,” replied Patterson.
Vice President Grant looked over at Hook. “Anne, I see that there are about a dozen Learjets sitting on the airfield. They can’t all be Houston’s.”
“No sir, in fact, they belong to some of the richest and most influential business leaders in the world,” answered Hook. “Before anyone asks, our missing Learjet is not among those planes. If it’s there, it’s hidden inside the base away from prying eyes.”
A murmur coursed through the room.
“What are the chances of anyone surviving the blast?” queried Grant.
“None,” replied Patterson soberly.
If the thought of killing people who might have nothing to do with the threat bothered Kempt, his stone-faced visage didn’t show it. “General, just how do you plan to deliver these warheads?”
“I can have the required munitions moved to Ms. Hook’s CIA base in Bulgaria in a matter of hours,” replied Patterson. “Once there, two Predator UAVs can be made ready in less than an hour.”
“Flight time to the target?” asked Grant.
“One hour,” said Patterson, after a quick check of his notes.
President Kempt pursed his lips and rhythmically drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. Fixing his gaze on General Patterson, he said, “General, put your plan into operation. I want to be told the minute the UAVs are ready to take off from their base in Bulgaria.”
“Very good, sir,” replied Patterson.
Hook nodded in agreement, as the people who were about to pull off the strike were actually hers.
“Is there a contingency plan in case this one fails?” asked Vice President Grant. He was an old political hand. He wasn’t going to quit asking questions until he knew that every angle had been considered and that the president wouldn’t be left with a potential worldwide catastrophe on his hands.