“Arm up the Scorpions, Long Dong,” he shouted. “We’ve got to get to them before they attack!”
But before the two Megafortress bombers could even begin to make defensive maneuvers, the MiGs had opened fire with long-range R-33 radar-guided missiles. “Missile launch! Amos missiles in the air! They fired from about forty miles away… Two more missiles in the air! They targeted both you guys. Fortress Three, break right!”
“Rebecca!” Rinc shouted on interplane.
“Get the hell out of here, Rodeo!” Rebecca shouted. “I’m maneuvering as best I can! Get going!” Rinc had no choice but to execute a steep turning dive for the ground.
The one not-so-cool thing about the Megafortress’s laser radar system was that it showed everything in stark, cold detail — including their time to die. The LADAR tracked the big R-33 Amos missiles with ease, even projected their flight path and time to intercept — which, at their speed, was in about seventy seconds. No matter how tight they turned, how fast they flew, or how low they went, the R-33 stayed right with them — their projected flight path line always intersected the middle of the screen.
“Kill those sons of bitches, Long Dong!” Rinc shouted. Long quickly armed up the AIM-120 Scorpion AMRAAM missiles, and as soon as the R-33 missiles got within twenty miles, he fired two against each missile, then two at each MiG-31 when they got within range seconds later…
… but even though the R-33 missiles were big targets, they maneuvered quickly and were too fast for the AIMs, which were designed for aircraft less than half their speed. All of the Scorpions fired against the R-33s missed. Their last chance was the Scorpion missiles fired against the Foxhounds themselves — if they hit, or if the MiG-31s were forced to turn away and break radar lock with the bombers, the R-33 missiles would simply fly their last assigned heading and turn on their onboard radars. If they saw a target, they would kill it — if not, they would self-destruct. It was their only…
Suddenly, a tremendous globe of brilliant silvery light appeared in the sky above Rinc and John, then disappeared — it went away so fast that they thought they imagined it. Rinc made another hard jink to the left and pumped out more active decoys to try to lure the R-33 missiles away — and this time it worked. The R-33s continued on their last course and exploded harmlessly several miles away.
“Rebecca! Are you all right?” Rinc shouted.
“We’re okay!” Rebecca replied. “The R-33s missed! They stopped guiding on us! What happened?”
“Hey, you know, these Lancelot missiles make fine air-to-air missiles too,” Dave Luger radioed from Fortress Two. “And that last one just happened to have a plasma-yield warhead on it. Wonder where you go when you get hit by a plasma-yield explosion?”
“To plasma hell, I hope,” Rinc said. “Hey, Fortress Zero, can we escort Fortress One out of here now? We’ll all be running on fumes pretty soon.”
“Not quite yet,” General Terrill Samson’s voice broke in. “This is Genesis. Check your targeting displays. I’ve got one more target for you guys to attack… and may God have mercy on my soul for doing this.”
“None… of… them?” Minister of National Defense Kim gasped. “None of them hit their targets?”
“None of them even began reentry toward their targets,” Colonel Sung, the senior controller in the Master Control and Reporting Center at Osan, said. “They all either reported malfunctions… or the telemetry simply ceased.”
“How is this possible?” Kim shouted. “How can this happen?” He was almost crazed with blinding anger — but he forced himself to be calm. “I want a second salvo readied immediately!” he shouted. “This time I want it doubled! I want every target on the original list targeted with two warheads! No… no, better make it three.”
“Three? Three nuclear warheads on every target?”
“If they are malfunctioning or sabotaged, we need at least three to ensure the targets are destroyed once and for all!” he cried out. “Now get to work! Put three… no, four, four missiles on every target! Do it! Now!”
“Sir!” a technician shouted. “Enemy aircraft inbound! Patriot and Hawk batteries are responding!”
Kim dashed over to a radar screen, one of the old-fashioned twenty-four-inch cathode-ray tube displays — the old vacuum-tube radar displays were less vulnerable to EMP effects, so some were still in use in the MCRC. Several blips appeared on the screen with data blocks beside them indicating speed and altitude. “Fast-moving target inbound from the southwest at very low altitude, range seventy miles. They are not maneuvering… they are coming straight in.”
“Then it will be that much easier to destroy them,” Kim said. “Commit every available unit on—”
“Sir! More targets inbound from the southeast! Very low altitude, six hundred knots, range sixty miles.”
“It’s a massive Chinese attack,” Kim shouted. “Get those ballistic missiles launched now, General! Get them—”
“Sir! More inbound targets, slow-moving, low altitude… I have another target, high altitude, sixty miles to the east, four hundred knots.”
“A command or surveillance aircraft,” General An said. “Possibly directing the attack.”
“No — they are American attack aircraft, Minister!” Colonel Sung shouted.
“What are you talking about, Colonel?”
“I received a phone call from Lieutenant General Terrill Samson,” Sung said. “He is the commander of the United States Air Force’s secret air weapons center. I know of him. He told me that he had stealth bombers in the area armed with special weapons that were capable of destroying both ballistic missiles and the MCRC. He warned me that his aircraft will attack if they do not get a response from us.”
“What in blazes were you doing on a telephone in the middle of a battle?” Kim Kun-mo shouted. “I can have you shot for that!”
“You’ve been fooled, Colonel,” General An said. “That call could have come from anyone. The Chinese certainly can look up an American general’s name and base of assignment and make up a tale like that.”
“I know that, sir,” Sung said. “But he also told me that his bombers attacked the Chinese armored forces and caused them to retreat.”
“What? The Chinese are in retreat?”
“It must be verified,” Sung said, “but I think we should wait on our second missile attack until it can be verified.”
“Nonsense!” Kim shouted. “We are not stopping any attack to verify anything, especially not based on information you received on an unauthorized, unsecure telephone call!”
“Sir, he also told me that his bombers carry weapons that can destroy ballistic missiles in flight, and that his orders were to use them against missiles fired from either Korea or China…”
“Ridiculous! I’ve never heard of anything like that before!”
“He also said that—”
“Colonel, you are relieved of command,” Minister of National Defense Kim said. “Get out of my command center. General An, designate a new senior controller, and proceed with the launch immediately! Security, escort this gullible, incompetent officer out of here!”
“Sir, he said that his bombers have weapons that can destroy the MCRC,” Sung shouted as two security guards stepped over to him and reached for his arms. “If we do not establish contact with his aircraft, we will be destroyed!”
“Get him out of here!”
The two guards grabbed Sung’s arms, but he twisted away, grabbed a rifle that was slung from one of the guards’ shoulders, turned, and aimed it at Kim. “I won’t let you kill us all, you maniac!” he shouted, and pulled the trigger.
General An raced forward to tackle Kim just as a line of bullets stitched across his back and left side. Sung swung the gun around and aimed it at the launch control console, but he was gunned down by another security guard before he could open fire.