“I’m waiting for the punch line.”
“Toward that end, and in demonstration of our resolve, we have assumed control of the space station Soyuz Fifty, which was designed and built by communists, and which belongs to communists. Soyuz Fifty is the command center of the New World Orbital Command, and the station is currently home to forty nuclear warheads of five hundred kilotons destructive power each”
“Forty?” Mays asked.
“That’s four missiles,” Brackman said.
“We will go our way in peace,” Shelepin continued, “but should any nation threaten our existence, please know that forty capital cities of the world are already targeted.
“You will be hearing more of the New World Communist Party.”
The man faded from the screen.
“Forty!” Cross said from across the table. “Damn it! What more do we know?”
“You tell them, Harvey,” Brackman said. “I’ve got to get hold of McKenna.”
Coming up the corridor from Spoke One, Pearson noted all of the activity.
In her hangar, Delta Yellow appeared ready to go. Conover and Abrams were doing something under one wing.
She peeked through the window into the Maintenance Office and saw Tony Munoz wafting behind a computer console, sound asleep.
At the next hangar, she slowed herself to look through the window over the control console. Bert Embry and two techs had mounted four pylons on Delta Blue, and they had four Phoenix IIs rigged to the outboard pylons. They were installing the last of eight Wasp IIs on the inboard mounts.
Benny Shalbot and his big floating black box were hooked into the MakoShark, running final diagnostic checks on the electronic systems. He was also profanely overseeing a technician who was double-checking the grappler arms in the forward cargo bay.
McKenna and Polly Tang were just inside the hangar hatchway, talking. When they, saw her, Polly’s face flushed the tiniest bit, so Pearson figured they had been talking about her. Tang is too damned concerned about my social well-being.
“Amy?” McKenna said.
“General Overton just talked to Brackman.” She told him about the Shelepin tape and the group in the Situation Room. “We should have a copy of the tape soon.”
“Confirms your theory, doesn’t it?” McKenna said.
“It makes me very happy,” she said. “More important, General Brackman says there are supposed to be four SS-X-25s, with forty MIRVs.”
“Where?”
“Soyuz Fifty. That’s what Shelepin claimed.”
“You saw our video tapes, Amy. We count one. Maybe three of them are in ground-launch profile?”
“He said they were in orbit.”
“Damn, he’s never lied to us before.”
“Don’t be smart, McKenna. Brackman wants you to be extremely careful approaching the station. He wants the other three rockets located before you take action. He also wants to know how long it will be before you get there.”
“Off-hand, I don’t know. I can’t keep up with the orbital characteristics of Soyuz Fifty. Tony’s down-loaded them from the mainframe to Delta Blue’s computer, and we’ll know as soon as we launch. It could be up to an hour, probably a little more.”
“Well, all the honchos are in the Situation Room, and they want information fast.”
“Funny. Last night, they wanted us grounded.”
He smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. Damned fighter jock, trying to make light of an intensely serious event.
“They also want to know more about the airstrip in Kampuchea,” she said.
McKenna clucked his tongue. “I’ll leave Dimatta and a couple Makos on Themis, and send Lynn Earth-side.”
“You’d better get going,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll go rouse Tony the Tiger.”
McKenna shot away.
Tang said, “Amy, could we talk for a minute?”
“Not now, Polly, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
She turned and put her foot against the hatchway jamb, as Tang said, “Of course, Colonel.”
“You are becoming very proficient, Boris. Your calculations are perfect,” Maslov said.
“It is becoming easier, Aleks. But to be honest, one should really have months in which to learn all of these systems.”
“We will take it one step at a time. And your steps have all been certain.”
The problem Nikitin had been faced with was to calculate the velocity necessary to maintain pace with Soyuz Fifty while in an orbit thirty miles (forty-eight kilometers) above the space station. They had achieved it with only mild jockeying.
They were, in fact, slightly ahead of the station, and the MakoShark was traveling backwards with its nose aimed downward. They were far enough away to elude visual sighting, and in a matter of seconds, Maslov could ignite the rocket motors and blast his way down to the station.
The attitude of the craft allowed them to maintain surveillance of the satellite with the video camera. The magnification gave them a clear and concise picture. From time to time, Nikitin swiveled the camera in order to search the regions close to the station.
In the view now on the screen, Maslov could see two ants — Bryntsev and Filatov in the white space suits — as they floated between the rocket and the station and installed the new umbilical cable that Maslov had delivered along with the new warhead. The second warhead was tethered by rope to the opposite side of the station. It awaited its propulsion stage, and Maslov was beginning to worry about when he would have a chance to retrieve it.
It was important to have the first rocket operational, so as to stave off intrusions by the 1st Aerospace Squadron. Silently, he urged Bryntsev to greater speed.
His communication with the station was encrypted, but the link from the station to the men in the space suits was not. At this point, however, with Chairman Shelepin’s announcement already released, simple communications being overheard was probably a moot point. The world, or most of it, now knew the ownership of Soyuz Fifty.
Maslov keyed the transmit button. “Commodore, this is Captain.”
Bryntsev’s voice contained a trace of stress, and his breathing rate seemed accelerated. “Commodore.”
“Progress?”
“It goes well. Another twenty minutes perhaps, then we will return.”
“Good.”
Maslov and Nikitin were falling behind on sleep, and that was not good for either of them. A groggy mind made fatal mistakes.
“Boris, I will keep watch for a few hours. You must sleep now.”
“Sleep comes hard when one is on the edge of hostile action, Aleks.”
“I know, but try.”
Maslov loosened his straps a little and resettled his body in the reclining couch.
Most of the systems were in a passive mode, reducing the draw on the batteries. The armaments panel displayed all green LEDs. All of his Wasps and the remaining Phoenix missile were armed and ready for launch.
Now it was a matter of waiting.
He knew they would come, especially after the amazing feat of severing the umbilical cable. The saving grace, as Maslov analyzed it, was that the attacker had not been armed. It might have been a Mako. Otherwise, there would no longer be a rocket or a space station to watch on the video.
And there would no longer be a New World Communist Party. The station was essential to maintaining the Party’s balance of power in the world. With the station and its nuclear capacity, the NWCP was the equivalent of the United States or China. The party did not yet control the same geography, but that would come with time.
He and Druzhinin had agreed that Maslov would not attempt to take on any of the 1st Aerospace pilots at Maslov’s own instigation. The American pilots had far too much experience in the aerospace craft for him to engage in direct combat just yet, and they could not afford to lose their only transportation between New World Base and Soyuz Fifty.