He braced himself and set the rope about his shoulders, belayed on.
“Make for the light, use the rope as a guide…for fucks sake CLIMB!”
The fireball was fading rapidly now, and the fullness of night returned.
With a ‘whoosh’ a schermoulie climbed into the night, trailing amber sparks behind it and lit with an audible pop. It had been launched from above, from the top of this rock face.
Below him three of his men were climbing, two more had reached its foot whilst Sergeant McCormack and the limping marine were thirty metres away.
He could hear a rumbling from higher up the valley.
Two Chinese soldiers appeared in the light of the para-illum, standing upright with weapons held loosely in their hands. They were looking away from the marines; heads turned towards the noise behind them. They suddenly discarded their weapons, tearing off webbing equipment and scrambling across the ice towards the dangling rope.
The first of Richards men reached him, breathing heavily and perspiring, he did not pause but instead he too pounded a piton into the rock face and belayed himself on, dropping his own rope to assist his mates.
Vibration joined the sound now, and Richard was shouting louder in order to be heard, shouting encouragement, directing his men’s hands and feet to holds that he could see but they could not.
Another schermoulie arose into the darkness, illuminating the valley for several hundred yards until it bent around out of sight and up sharply in the direction of the centre of the mountain range.
“Holy mother of God!” the marine next to Richard uttered in horror.
To those men climbing, the sight spurred on tired limbs to greater effort.
It was a truly terrifying view to behold, the melt water of a glacier bursting around the bend, a great wave breaking upon the rock wall with a thunderous boom, water dashing higher than their belay point.
A Chinese soldier slipped and fell on the melting ice floor, looked behind at the approaching wave and froze. He may have screamed but if he did so that cry was lost forever. In an instant he was gone, and a moment later his companion too was engulfed.
“Climb, CLIMB!”
The wave reached them, spray showering over Richard as the once parched and arid mountain valley of only a few weeks before, became the host to a maelstrom.
It was two hours later that the surviving Royal Marines of the Mountain & Arctic Warfare Cadre reached the top of the valley, climbing in deathly silence, and not a little shock.
Four Green Berets left behind as guides by Garfield Brooks solemnly shook hands with Major Dewar and three men, the remaining marines having been swept away by the flash flood.
“This is General Shaw”. Henry had no noisy interruptions now; a shocked silence had taken a hold.
“Thank you, stay on the line.” Still holding the receiver to one ear he spoke calmly.
“Mr President we have a confirmed missile launch from the remaining silo and we are tracking it on a roughly south easterly heading…” he was relating in a steady voice the information arriving from satellites and ground tracking stations that still functioned.
“…sir the weapon has ‘mirved’, we now have nine re-entry vehicles in three groups on diverging courses…central Pacific…western seaboard.”
The President felt a cold hand close over his heart.
“…Pearl…San Diego…the third group has a slightly higher orbit…too high for the US.” Henry continued.
“Thank God for small mercies, but where are they aiming for if not the United States?” asked the President.
The third target was in actual fact geographically the closest target to the silo from which the ICBM had been launched, but much further south and therefore its trajectory would require an orbit of the lower half of the southern hemisphere in order to reach it.
At the other end of the line the intended target had just been deduced, along with the times before which the warheads re-entered the atmosphere.
“Roughly two more minutes to Pearl, three to San Diego… and seven minutes ten seconds to Sydney, Australia, Mr President…” Henry had to force his voice to remain steady.
“Air defences are being alerted.” He continued. “….of the three re-entry vehicles being tracked in each group, two are likely to be decoys…there are two Patriot sites and three ballistic missile defence capable Aegis warships on picket at both Pearl and San Diego…”
“And Sydney, Henry?” the President asked urgently. “What does Sydney have?”
Henry did not look at the President, he couldn’t.
“Just Natalie’s ship.” said Henry Shaw quietly. “Just the Orange County.”
“Mr President!” called a navy captain. “On speaker’s sir…the O.O.Ds of the USS Chosin, Mobile Bay and the Nimitz.”
“Mr President, Lieutenant Commander Fortnum, Chosin is launching Standard 3 missiles as we speak…AN/SPY2 is tracking three targets entering the atmosphere above the Hawaiian Islands.”
“Lieutenant Commander Hastings here… USS Mobile Bay’s SPY2 has three targets approaching San Die…we have launched Mr President, Bunker Hill is also launching…we are continuing to launch…”
“This is Commander Willis, USS Nimitz…the USS Orange County is tracking a trio of low orbit inbounds crossing above Christmas Island, Mr President…”
“All missiles expended by Chosin, Lake Erie and Port Royal, but the Patriot batteries at Hickam are still launching…we have two…we have…we… we have three confirmed kills…we have three …all three targets destroyed, Mr President…”
“Shore batteries firing Patriots…Princeton has launched her last Standard 3…Mobile Bay has expended all Standard 3 missiles…Bunker Hill has expended all missiles…”
“Mr President…Orange County has the three low orbit inbounds over central Australia…”
“Three…I can confirm three targets destroyed!”
“What..?” the President was frowning. “Three targets where, Dago or Sydney?”
“San Diego, Mr President…this is Lieutenant Commander Hastings, O.O.D of the USS Mobile Bay, I can confirm three targets destroyed, SPY2 is clear, there are no further targets!”
“How many?” the President asked urgently. “How many missiles did you launch in order to destroy all three targets?”
“Over a hundred at Pearl, Mr President…perhaps more.”
“Two hundred and four SM3s and thirty Patriots were launched here at San Diego…I don’t know at what point we killed all three…”
Commander Willis interrupted at that point.
“I am stepping out on the bridge wing Mr President…there is no longer light pollution here since the blackouts were imposed…beautiful night…okay, the air raid sirens have just begun to sound in the city…police car sirens too…ships in the harbor are sounding ‘collision’…”
Over the speaker they could hear the wailing of the sirens on shore, it sounded reminiscent of old news reels of London’s Blitz, but the combined ships sirens input seemed celebratory rather than a warning of approaching danger.
“Orange County is launching!”
Only several hundred yards distant the air defence picket for the aircraft carrier began launching her entire inventory of sixty eight Standard 3 missiles, ripple firing continuously. The noise was horrendous, drowning out the words even though Commander Willis was shouting in order to be heard.