"At approximately the same time, depending on the headwinds," replied the pilot.
The General Secretary smiled and sipped his vodka. "Marvelous. Perhaps we will be able to watch it land after all."
Like the sands of an hourglass, the remaining time on Peter Lamborghini's digital chronometer quickly evaporated. When it hit 00:00:00, he heard, "Ignition!" and felt the vibration of the Titan 34-D's rumbling engines. The Titan's propulsion system was similar to the shuttle's in that it possessed two solid-fuel boosters mounted as outriggers to a center liquid-fuel engine. When all three elements worked together they produced 3.5 million pounds of thrust.
As the vibrations increased, Lamborghini remembered the lift-off of his orientation flight aboard the shuttle Antares. That launch was daunting, to be sure, but riding aloft in the Kestrel gave him a more intimate feeling with the booster — as if the Titan rocket were strapped right to his ass. He watched the gantry disappear from view and heard, "Lift-off, Kestrel! We have lift-off! Everything's looking fine. Transferring you to CSOC. Good hunting."
'' Roger, Launch Control,'' replied Monaghan,'' and thanks."
Lamborghini felt the cabin pressurize while the mounting g-forces pushed him back into his seat. The Titan 34-D was ascending rapidly, punching a hole in the night sky and pushing up the needle on the machometer. As the speed increased, Lam-borghini's confidence — which had been shattered by the destruction of the Constellation—seemed to return, and he found he liked the idea of springing this surprise on the Russians. It was time to even up the ledger. He looked out the side window, and even though it was night, he could begin to make out the curvature of the earth.
"How're you doin', Hot Rod?" queried Monaghan.
"Doin' okay, Mad Dog. Let's nail these bastards."
Monaghan liked the firmness in his partner's voice. "Awright, that's my guy."
The liaison officer, who kept tabs on activity at the Aerospace Defense Warning Centre, was rocked out of his lethargy by the beep coming from his computer terminal. He'd been focusing on the upcoming reentry procedure of the Intrepid, like everyone else, and the last thing he'd expected was an alarm. He immediately began tapping on his keyboard, and when the data appeared on his screen, he yelped, "Launch detection, Commander!"
Popov, Kostiashak, and the mission commander looked up.
"Where?" demanded Malyshev.
The liaison officer kept tapping rapidly. "Coming out of the Vandenberg cosmodrome… wait one moment… vector one-eight-seven degrees. I am putting it on the plot board." He hit the proper keys and a short ground-track line appeared out of California, far south of the Soyuz-Intrepid rendezvous position. The Soyuz and the Intrepid had just crossed the Arctic Circle and were on a southerly heading toward their next retrofire attempt over the South Pacific.
"What is it?" demanded Kostiashak.
"I have no idea," replied Popov. "But if you thought the Americans were going to sit on their hands while we destroyed one of their shuttles and tried to steal another, then you are a fool."
The Chairman's eyes flashed, but he contained himself. "How long until the next reentry attempt?"
Popov looked at the time display. "Twenty-three minutes. It would appear the American rocket will approach our vessels approximately the same time as we retrofire."
Strand watched her green CRT screen, which was receiving a data readout on the Kestrel launch from CSOC. "Solid boosters have separated on the Titan," she announced. "So far, so good."
The ground tracks on the giant center projection screen showed the spacecraft were heading south and approaching the equator. The Kestrel would cross it first, but the Soyuz and the Intrepid were rapidly gaining because of their greater velocity.
Mad Dog felt a vibration as he checked the control panel. "Liquid booster has separated," he radioed. "We're clear. Lining up orbit insertion burn now." The Kestrel was completely free of its Titan booster and would now rely on its own orbital maneuvering system (OMS) engines.
"Roger, Kestrel," said the Cap Com from CSOC. "You are go for insertion burn."
Monaghan checked his attitude direction indicator to confirm it was in the inertial mode and that the digital autopilot was engaged. The NavComputer was wired into the autopilot and would execute the firing of the OMS engine to insert (hem into orbit. Mad Dog kept his hand off the pitch and yaw controller and let the computers take over. "Here we go, Hot Rod."
"I'm with you," replied Lamborghini. '
The flight plan called for the Kestrel to be inserted into the same orbital vector as the Soyuz and Intrepid, but the space fighter's initial position would be two hundred miles behind and fifteen miles below its target. The strategy was to initially keep some distance, in order to guard against any AS AT weapons the Soyuz might have brought along. From two hundred miles away, Lamborghini would scan the Intrepid with the long-range radar and engage it with the Phoenix missiles. Then the space fighter would close the gap to inspect the damaged shuttle, or finish it off with the Sidewinders.
Because the Kestrel was traveling in a lower orbital plane, it could catch up to the Intrepid like a sprinter who had the inside track around a curve.
No attempt would be made to disable or board the Intrepid. Monaghan and Lamborghini were to simply blast it out of the sky.
"They what?" cried Iceberg.
"Just as I told you, Intrepid," explained Lubinin patiently. "We have received word from our Flite Centre that the Americans have launched a vehicle from your Vandenberg cosmodrome. It is approaching our position on this same axis of advance. Flite Centre wants to know if you have any idea what it could be."
Iceberg began sweating as his mind raced. What could it be? Not an ASAT missile. Those had been destroyed under the treaty. Besides, they were launched from an airborne F-15 fighter, not from a launch facility like Vandenberg. Another shuttle? No way. They couldn't possibly have prepared another shuttle in just a few days. And it couldn't be a manned vehicle. The shuttle was the only manned launch vehicle in the U.S. inventory. What could it be, then? Some ASAT improvisation? Or a photorecon bird? Yeah. Recon. Now that made more sense.
"Tell your Flite Centre I don't know for sure, but it's my guess it's some kind of reconnaissance satellite coming up to take close-up pictures of what's going on."
Lubinin wasn't convinced, but said, "Very well," and informed Kaliningrad.
Iceberg was impatient. "How much time until we try your retro engine again?"
"Eleven minutes," replied Yemitov.
"Good," said Iceberg. "I'll be out of here before they can do anything with that Vandenberg vehicle, whatever it might by."
"Yes," observed Lubinin. "You will be."
After the OMS engines shut down, Monaghan jettisoned the launch shrouds covering the Phoenix missiles on the topside wing pylons. Then he activated the reaction control thrusters so he could maneuver the space fighter.
The three spacecraft were now orbiting on a roughly common ground track in single file, heading south above the South Pacific. The Intrepid was in the lead, followed closely by the Soyuz. The Kestrel was 217 miles behind.