Crouched together at the edge of the clearing, a few feet within the tree line, Christine O’Connor and President Kalinin searched the dark sky. A few minutes earlier, they had crawled from their hillside hiding spot, then climbed toward the rendezvous location. Christine still held her pistol in one hand and the Russian cell phone in the other, although neither had been used since her earlier communication with Secretary of Defense Dunnavant. There was no wind and the forest was still, but the night sounds filled her ears while she waited tensely for their transport.
She finally heard something, barely audible above the chirping crickets. The faint sound grew louder until she spotted a Black Hawk helicopter plummeting toward the clearing with alarming speed. The helicopter slowed its descent as it approached the ground, landing softly in the meadow grass. Not far away, a second Black Hawk touched down.
Four soldiers exited the nearest helicopter, taking defensive positions around the Black Hawk, down on one knee and weapons pointed outward. Each man’s rifle swung slowly left as they surveyed the tree line. When one man’s rifle was pointing directly at Christine, he halted, keeping his aim on her. Another soldier swung his weapon around, locking on to Kalinin. The first man beckoned with his arm, urging Christine and Kalinin forward.
Christine led the way, with Kalinin pulling up alongside, as both soldiers kept their weapons trained on them. When they closed to within range of the helicopter’s rotors, Christine ducked and approached the man who waved. He lifted his night vision goggles and scrutinized Christine and Kalinin, then lowered his weapon as he stood.
“President Kalinin, Miss O’Connor,” he said, then pointed toward the Black Hawk cabin.
Christine and Kalinin climbed in, joined quickly by the four soldiers. The helicopter lifted off as they took their seats, barely clearing the treetops as it raced toward the Black Sea. Not far behind, the second Black Hawk followed.
In the dark cabin, faintly illuminated by the green cockpit controls, the first soldier extended his hand to President Kalinin. “Captain Joe Martin, Delta Force, U.S. Army.” Martin put emphasis on U.S. Army, then added a grin. “Welcome aboard.”
Kalinin returned the smile. “I appreciate your assistance.”
“Buckle in,” Martin said. “It’ll be an hour before we land at Bartin Air Base in Turkey.”
Christine shrugged out of her backpack, then let out a deep breath. Their ordeal was almost over.
As she reached for the seat harness, the night sky lit up with an orange flash, accompanied by a loud explosion and debris pinging off the Black Hawk’s metal skin. The helicopter tilted suddenly, making an evasive maneuver, throwing Christine from her seat. As she grabbed on to the nearest fixture, she spotted the other Black Hawk engulfed in fire, falling from the sky. Christine pulled herself onto her chair and was searching for the seat harness when she spotted a red trail racing up from the forest toward them.
Flares and chaff were ejected from the Black Hawk, then the helicopter turned sharply down and left, almost throwing Christine from her seat again. The missile locked on to the decoys and passed by as the Black Hawk leveled off just above the treetops. Christine buckled herself in just before the helicopter tilted on its side and swerved right. She looked out the windows, spotting the forest through one side and moon through the other. The helicopter righted itself, but only for a second before zigging left.
Another round of flares and chaff were dispensed, then Christine’s stomach leapt into her chest as the Black Hawk dropped into a rocky clearing. Another missile streaked overhead, distracted by the decoys as the helicopter plunged toward jagged rocks.
The helicopter leveled off, but was now racing toward towering pines directly ahead. The Black Hawk tilted upward at the last second, leveling off again after barely clearing the treetops. Christine twisted around in her seat, looking out the windows for other inbound missiles. She spotted another one closing from behind, but the helicopter took no evasive maneuvers.
Through the cockpit window, Christine spotted two more missiles speeding toward them, from thirty degrees on either side. The pilots were having a terse conversation, deciding what to do. The conversation ended and decoys were ejected again, then the Black Hawk maneuvered radically to the left, followed by another round of chaff and flares. Blinking red lights on the countermeasure panel indicated they had expended their decoys. Christine didn’t have much time to think about it, as she was whiplashed by another maneuver.
The decoys fooled two of the missiles but not the third, which adjusted course toward the evading helicopter. Only a few seconds remained as the missile closed the distance, and the Black Hawk swerved left again, pitching Christine against her seat harness.
An explosion roared through the helicopter, ripping its tail off. The Black Hawk spun as it tumbled from the sky, the rate of rotation increasing as it fell, ejecting two Delta Force soldiers into the darkness. The forest rushed up toward them, and then there was the sound of splintering tree branches and crumpling metal.
39
AIR FORCE ONE
It was mid-afternoon as Air Force One made its descent toward Joint Base Andrews, just outside Washington, D.C. The president was seated at his desk, reviewing the latest intelligence report detailing the Russian troops committed to the invasions of Ukraine and Lithuania, when there was a knock on his door. After he acknowledged, Dunnavant, Cabral, and Colonel Dubose entered, with Dunnavant carrying a thin folder. Their expressions told the president they were about to deliver bad news.
“What do you have, Bill?”
“I’ve got two updates,” he said as he sat on the couch across from the president. “I’ll start with our nuclear triad. We found the problem.
“Curtain Labs discovered two dormant programs in a microprocessor chip in their navigation upgrade, activated by an external message. One routine creates a power surge strong enough to destroy the connected B-2 electronics, and the second program relays a position update to the Trident missile flight algorithm, altering the flight path. The bad news is that there doesn’t appear to be a way to prevent the Russians from interfering, short of replacing the navigation circuits, which will take time.”
“How much time are we talking about?”
“Curtain Labs is working on a revised circuit board. Their production line is still warm, so it should be only a few weeks before we have new cards. The B-2 upgrade should be easy, but the missile upgrade can’t be done while the missiles are in their tubes or silos. They’ll have to be returned to the refurbishment facilities. It’ll be at least a year before a respectable percentage of our nuclear missiles are upgraded and returned to service, and much longer to fix the entire inventory.”
The president asked, “Is there a way to address the missile issue faster? Can we jam the Russian signal that activates the dormant programs?”
“There’s no way to block all satellite communications during the missile’s entire flight path. The only viable way is to block the transmission at its source. But we have no idea where they’re transmitting from, and it could be from multiple locations. I’m afraid the only way to address this issue is by replacing the navigation circuits. Curtain Labs is trying to develop a more immediate solution to restoring our nuclear deterrence, but the odds are slim.”
The president nodded his understanding.
“In other bad news,” Dunnavant said, “the extraction of President Kalinin and Christine didn’t go as planned. We lost contact with both Black Hawks during their return trip.”
“Do we know what happened?”