“Turning ninety degrees left to look to the rear,” Major Andwar said. The four planes turned. The giant mushroom cloud towered well over their thirty thousand feet.
“Confirmed,” the major said.
“Confirmed,” the other three said.
“We just killed thirty thousand human beings,” one of the pilots said.
“No,” the major shouted. “Don’t ever say that again. We did our duty and now return to base. On my signal we turn due north. Now.”
The planes dropped down to ten thousand feet to watch history in the making below on the desert. Thousands of wheeled and tracked vehicles charged across the desert heading south.
Thousands and thousands of troops rode forward, ready for battle if there was one. Major Andwar knew that the diplomatic channels were crackling with charges and countercharges, and from Libya there would be an ultimatum to Chad. He would hear it later on television and radio when they returned to their base near Benghazi.
In Benghazi, al-Qaddafi took the cue from the television director and began to speak.
“To the people of Chad. Libya bears no malice toward you. It is your leaders and your corrupt form of government that we abhor. We have today vaporized the town of Yebbi Bou in northern Chad with a nuclear weapon. This is our message to your leaders.
“Our Armed Forces are even now overrunning the northern boundaries of your country. The Chad military must lay down its arms at once and surrender the country to Libya. You have twenty-four hours to do this and to cease any and all forms of resistance from both military and civilians.
“If any Libyan Army or Air Force units are fired upon or attacked, dire retribution will be meted out to the guilty.
“If your leaders do not believe us, or think that we are not in earnest about our annexation of Chad, we will drop another nuclear bomb on a much larger Chad city exactly twenty-four hours from when the first fell.
“Urge your leaders to capitulate and to broadcast such a message to us within the hour.
“The target for the second nuclear bomb will be your capital, N’Djamena. We have no wish to vaporize your capital city. We will want it to be flourishing as one of our show points when we control the ex-nation of Chad. Demonstrate to us and to our Army units that your leaders are sincere in their capitulation, and your historic capital city will be spared.
“We come not as conquerors, but as brothers too long separated, so that we may now complete this part of our family circle. We look forward to hearing your answer.”
Everard Sylvester scowled at the printout where he sat at his desk in the A section on the fourth floor. Less than an hour ago Chad had been hit with a nuclear bomb, a small town wiped out, and an immediate ultimatum of surrender issued by al-Qaddafi.
Response.
What was the U.S. going to do to nip this sort of nuclear-blackmail aggression in the proverbial bud before it came to full flower and engulfed half of Africa?
Don Stroh dropped into the visitor’s chair next to Sylvester’s desk.
“So?” Stroh said.
“I don’t know. The chief gave me an hour to come up with my recommendation and I don’t have a clue. Step in with a broadcast nuke threat of our own to al-Qaddafi? Pull his forces back and cease and desist on the use of any more nuclear weapons or one of his own towns would be vaporized? Will the big stick work anymore? He would broadcast a counterwarning that a named U.S. city, say Portland, Oregon, would be blown off the map by nuclear bombs if any U.S. aggression took place on Libya soil. Threat and counterthreat. I don’t think that’s the way to go here.”
“So?” Stroh asked again.
“My other plan takes longer. Find out where he bought the nuke he used and quash his supply. Eliminate any more nukes he may have, and then turn the economic screws on him, even going so far as to blockade his oil export ports of as-Sidar and Marsha al-Burayqah.”
“An act of war,” Stroh said.
“So is A-bombing a Libyan city.”
The two men stared at each other.
Stroh broke the stalemate. “First we find out where they bought the bomb and shut off that supply. The only nukes we know of for sale on the open market have been in Odessa, Ukraine. We have been following some activity there lately. We can check the ship movements from Odessa and see if any went directly to Tripoli.”
“We can do that?”
“A computer scan of the satellite photos of the past week to ten days. If the satellite shows it, we’ll find it. I better move.”
Stroh talked with the CIA director for five minutes and had approval for the search. A half hour after it started, the satellite analysis specialist came in with the report.
“Two ships, both freighters, left Odessa within minutes of each other six days ago. One meandered around a general route toward the canal. The other, much faster, plowed straight through to Tripoli.”
Stroh hurried up to the director’s office with the report. “We know the one ship is of Chinese registry, an old rusty freighter making only ten knots. We’ve been watching it, but the faster ship we haven’t tracked.”
It took the CIA only an hour to dig out the name of the two ships that left Odessa on that day. One or both of them could have carried ex-Russian ICBMs from the Odessa hideaway.
“Track that fast ship and see if it’s still in Tripoli harbor,” said the director. “If it is, we need to know if there is a missile there, or part of one, and we need to know if the missile was one of the ones with ten independently targetable reentry warheads. The warheads could be yanked out of a Satan and used as single-shot weapons such as was dropped on Chad.”
“You want the SEALs to go in and check out the ship and destroy or capture the remaining nukes if they are on board that ship?”
“That’s why you’re here, Stroh. I’ll have to get approval from the President, but that shouldn’t take more than an hour. Alert your SEALs for the mission and keep them on standby. Oh, be sure to go through the CNO. Some of the sailors out there in Coronado are getting touchy.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll call the Chief of Naval Operations and get the operation set and we’ll trigger it when the President gives us a thumbs-up.”
Master Chief MacKenzie took the phone and identified himself.
“Yes, Master Chief, good to hear your voice.”
“Mr. Stroh. How are you these days?”
“A bit different. We had our asses chewed by the Navy, so now we’re going through channels. Wanted to warn you and give you a time line on these guys. See how long it takes to get the word to you.
“About a half hour ago the President authorized my boss to take some direct covert action on this Libya situation. You’ll get official word through channels. Just wanted to see how long it takes. Mark down your time now and let me know when your team commander gets the word to you.”
“Will do, Mr. Stroh. Good to hear from you again. Will you be along on the mission?”
“Probably. Somebody’s got to keep your boys out of trouble. You take care, Master Chief.”
MacKenzie took a piece of paper and put on the top the name of Don Stroh, then behind it he wrote in the time, 1042. He would see just how efficient the Navy was in an emergency order transmission.
It wasn’t until almost 1345 that Master Chief MacKenzie took the call from Commander Masciareli.
“Master Chief, where is Third Platoon right now?”
“On the strand taking a hike, then a swim,” MacKenzie said.
“Send a Hummer out there and bring back Murdock and DeWitt. Then show them up to my office as soon as possible. Something is cooking.”