President Tomlinson reached out and took a sip of her coffee. “You say ‘few other possibilities’ but you only give me one. Is that laziness on your part, or is there something else which supports your hijacking scenario?”
Sykes stood at ease for a moment, simply staring at her, but he eventually responded. “Yes, ma’am. While there could conceivably be some other reason for the ship to abandon its shuttle and head home immediately, there is no reason for the unauthorized launch of two additional SSTOS from the Windward Tech air field in Vallejo. That occurred an hour and a half ago, after the Sword broke off telemetry, but before it abandoned its own SSTOS and we ramped up our security posture. The reason given for these SSTOS flights was so that they could appear at Andrews for an impromptu media blitz involving you ma’am. By the time that filtered up to us and we sounded the alarm, both shuttles were off the designated air lanes and were making for high orbit. They are currently orbiting the Earth at an altitude of 3500 kilometers and have refused all attempts to communicate.
“Now, while there might be a slim possibility that these two events are unrelated, that potential becomes vanishingly small when you figure in who was aboard those shuttles and what went missing from Vallejo at the same time.” Sykes held up a finger. “That is the original Sword of Liberty crew, and,” he held up another finger, “the reserve resupply kit stored at Vallejo.”
Tomlinson stood up, shaking her head. “All right, all right, Carl! I yield. It’s a hijacking and Kelley’s taking back his ship. But why? And how the hell did a bunch of civilians make off with two shuttles and a mission resupply kit? Aren’t there weapons in there—secure, nuclear, WMD-type weapons?”
Sykes shrugged. “Answering your second question first, it’s a matter of hastily implemented procedures and narrow expectations. The Vallejo field was a civilian site with a brand new military security detachment devoted to thwarting an outside aggressor or spy, not a bunch of workers going about their own ‘routine’. And as for the weapons, they’re all inert. The railgun rounds contain no controlled explosives and the missile has no fuel and no radioactives. Unless you have a Sword class destroyer handy, they simply won’t do you any good. So, unfortunately, the security team had not been required to implement nuclear safeguards. It’s the sort of thing that would have been fixed on review of security procedures, but no one’s been in place long enough to call for a review.
“Honestly, Madame President, this sort of thing is a lot more common than anyone in the business likes to admit. We can handle almost any known threat with ease, but present us with something unique or unexpected and we either overreact or get rocked back onto our heels. If another group tried to repeat what Kelley and his crew have accomplished here, there’s not a chance in hell they’d get away with it.”
Tomlinson frowned. “But that doesn’t change where we are at the moment.” She turned and approached the large flatscreen dominating one side of the Situation Room, her wall-of-knowledge. On it was real-time telemetry of the approaching destroyer and the two orbiting shuttles. “You know Nathan Kelley, Carl. Why are they doing this? Why didn’t they throw in with us and Colonel Henson’s crew? Why would they purposefully commit treason for this mission of theirs?”
Sykes walked over to stand beside her. “For the answer to that, you’d have to have known Gordon Lee. Did you ever have the pleasure of his acquaintance?”
She smirked. “I’m an elected official and he was a wealthy industrialist. Of course, I met him. He was a major contributor to my runs in ‘36 and ‘40, but it was strictly political insurance on his part. I can’t say we ever had a conversation more than five minutes in length.”
“Well, I had the displeasure of knowing him for years—both as a Beltway operator and in relation to this project specifically. Gordon Lee was brilliant, arrogant, and of the firm conviction that he was always right. Unfortunately for anyone arrayed against him, though, that belief was too often correct. And even though the miserable old bastard is dead, he rubbed off on Kelley and the rest of them in a big way.
“They come assured by the closest thing to God on Earth that there is only one way to do this, and they mean to do it that way. This mission is theirs to accomplish, and not you, me, or the collective will of the nation is going to keep them from doing it. They couldn’t care less about treason when the alternative is violating Lee’s vision.”
The President nodded and turned away from the screen and began walking the length of the room, acknowledging one by one the other people filling it out in silence. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Volescu, nodded to her in support, support echoed on the faces of her staff and advisors. They were all behind her, but she was the one who had to make the difficult choice in this unprecedented case, and no one else wanted to be the one to take the blame in the event it turned out badly.
Suddenly, she appreciated Sykes’ unwavering frankness, even when it put them at odds with one another.
“Options? Recommendations?” she asked the room at large.
No one said anything. Whether they deferred to Sykes in his role as SECDEF, or were merely afraid to say anything, she could not tell. Perhaps “throwing all the bums out” had been rash.
Sykes stepped forward and gestured to Volescu. “Ma’am, there are three main courses of action available.” The general brought up a series of text slides on the wall-of-knowledge and Sykes continued talking. “First option is the most difficult, with the highest potential for disaster, but it gives us the most clear-cut win. We have approximately six hours until the Sword of Liberty can make orbit and rendezvous with the two stolen shuttles. Undoubtedly, she will onload the resupply package and transfer the old crew aboard, then take one of the SSTOS with her, abandoning the other for later retrieval. The shuttles themselves are not armed, and none of the civilian crew is special forces trained.
“We have a Joint spec-warfare team in Pensacola that’s been trained for zero-g, vacuum combat. We’ve never had a need for them before, but it always seemed like a good idea to have the capability. We can use our one remaining SSTOS to rendezvous with the two stolen shuttles, deploy the team, and retake those ships. We put a military crew onboard both, then when Kelley brings them aboard, we retake the destroyer.”
Tomlinson looked askance at him. “That seems very much like a ‘best case’ outcome.”
Sykes looked at Volescu, saying nothing until the Army General groaned. Volescu stood and turned to his Commander-in-Chief. “Madame President, it could go wrong at any one of a dozen points. The team may not be able to prep in time. We will be using untested pilots to do a first-time-ever rendezvous in orbit with two other shuttles who will undoubtedly be maneuvering to avoid us. Assuming we can link up, the hatches are not designed for a commanded entry from the exterior while in orbit, so we would have to blow them, which will kill the renegade crew and make it obvious to Kelley and Munoz that something is up. Then we have to get aboard the destroyer without it lighting us up, which is pretty much an impossibility. Best case, we purposely destroy the shuttle carrying most of the crew, kill all the civilians, convince the resupply shuttle to give up or die, and use the two remaining shuttles to somehow sneak aboard the Sword of Liberty and then take the big ship. Probable loss of 25% to 100% of the team, two shuttles, and maybe even the destroyer. More likely, none of it works at all and Kelley smokes our team from orbit because they’re still trying to take one or both of the stolen shuttles.”