There was a longer pause. Then: "Genesis, your primary target is very weak. Say type of aircraft, intentions and destination.
"This guy is trying to gut it out even if he doesn't know what he's doing," Elliott said to Ormack. He switched to the radio.
"Los Angeles, Genesis is requesting direct Friant, direct Talon intersection and holding at Talon within fifty nautical flight level three-niner zero."
"Unable your request through valley traffic witho plan, Genesis "Request you contact our command post on AUTOVON or Department of Defense DTS nine-ei, one-four-two-four, for our flight plan if it isn't in you in the next two minutes. Meanwhile, request direc direct Talon at the three-niner zero."
"Genesis the controller, not accustomed telling him what to do, was clearly agitated. "Unable standard holding north of the Coaldale two-five-three radial between twenty and thirty DME, right hand one-seven thousand five hundred until we straighten & "Genesis is proceeding VFR at this time, Los A Elliott said.
"Maintaining sixteen thousand five hundred proceeding direct Tacon.
We'll file a VFR flight plan with Coaldale Flight Service.
"Genesis, you have your instructions," the controller shot back.
"Enter holding as directed."
"Passing over the Coaldale VORTAC, General," said.
"Nuts to that," Elliott said, and switched the mode 7600, the radio-out I.F.F advisory. "Climbing to two zero, crew," he said over interphone.
"John, dial up "He's gonna be pissed," Ormack said as he changed the TACAN frequency to steer themselves to the next n point.
"If he never gets our flight plan, he'll never know are unless he scrambles interceptors against us," Ell' "If he get our flight plan, it won't matter. If he sc fighters… well, we don't have a tail number.
even look much like a real B-52."
"Genesis, this is Los Angeles Center-the voice was ragged-you are violated at this time. Turn to heading-" Elliott switched off the radio.
"I'll keep the emergency radio-out squawks going until we're out over water, asked. "He may be pissed but he'll clear the airspace "Not the best way to begin," Luger said to McLa the downstairs compartment.
McLanahan gave a shrug. He opened his chec, began to activate the radar, satellite navigation system, and the ring-laser gyro. A few minutes later the radar was warmed up and ready for use.
Luger meanwhile was plotting a fix on a high-altitude airways chart he found in a flight publications bag behind his seat.
"Any jet charts in there?GNC charts?Anything?" McLanahan asked.
"No, standard FLIP bag," Luger told him.
"Great. Just great. Well, we do have a flight plan. There should be Red Flag bomb range training data in here.
McLanahan checked that the correct mission cartridge was inserted into the reader, then flipped the READ lever. Twenty seconds later the flight plan, target coordinates, fixpoints, weapon coefficients, and terrain elevations for the entire southwest United States were resident in the master computer.
He then checked the gyro, nav computer, and satellite global positioning systems.
"The ring-laser gyro and satellite systems are ready to go," McLanahan said. He turned the satellite navigator to SYNCHRONIZE."We need a present position fix to align the gyro and start the nav computer.
After that it'll take a minute to start navigating on its own.
As Luger took radar fixes and began a rough D.R log on the margins of the enroute charts, McLanahan waited for the satellite to lock on.
After two minutes the SYNC ERROR advisory light was still lit.
"Okay," Luger said, putting his plotter down. "We're on a pretty good heading to Talon intersection. How's it going over there?"
"Bad to worse," McLanahan asked. "I just realized why. The satellite GPS needs a synchronizer code."
"And naturally we don't have one."
"Naturally," McLanahan said. He punched the Scorpion missile radar on to TRANSMIT and switched it to its original navigation radar mode. He looked into the scope, watching the Pacific coastline come into view in one hundred mile range, A then in frustration switched it back to STANDBY "It's hard to take a radar fix without a radar chart or description of the fixpoints," he asked. "The ring-laser gyro will probably align with an overfly fix or a D.R position, but I don't know how accurate the heading will be.
"Bottom line-Luger to the rescue!" Dave asked. "You were a psychic, partner. You needed a nav right from the beginning.
McLanahan flipped his interphone switch. "Want an update on the situation down here, General?"
"I'm afraid to guess. Well, if we don't have a satellite communications channel or I.F.F mission squawk, we certainly don't have a GPS code. No GPS, no reliable gyro. What else?"
"How about no charts and no target and fixpoint descriptions?"
The interphone clicked dead for a moment. Then: "Well, do the best you can.
"You bet," McLanahan asked. "We're deaf, dumb, blind, and lost, but we'll do the best we can."
WASHINGTON, D.C
"All right. Let's have it," the President said, wearily.
General Curtis nodded and continued, pointing to a map of the California coast that was projected on the rear-wall screen in the White House Situation Room. "Yes, sir. "He pointed to the Dreamland area. "As you know, an attack was staged on the project base.
Approximately a dozen individuals were involved.
"Good lord, things are going to hell already. "He turned to Jack Pledgeman, his press secretary. "What about the press?"
"They know about it, of course," Pledgernan told him.
"The Air Force comment was standard 'no comment. "It's no secret in southern Nevada that Dreamland is a highly classified research area.
Speculation runs rampant, of course, but the press has no inkling of the projects we're conducting there. I'm sure they don't know about the Old Dog or the runway at Groom Lake. The biggest problem, in my estimation, will be the casualties, Eight military and three civilians," "Put a clamp on that, too," the President asked. "I'll write a letter to the families regarding the sensitivity of the project they were working on and the importance of secrecy. The families must know that their family members were involved in highly classified work for the government. They'll be notified of what happened in due time.
Clear, Wilbur?"
"Yes, sir," Curtis replied.
"This is not a formerly classified project," the President emphasized.
"We keep a clamp on things right now. Control of this project starts right here, " He turned again to Curtis.
"General, what's the status of the Old Dog test team?"
All eyes turned to the Chairman Of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
"Colonel Anderson, the chief operational designer of the Old Dog, was killed in the attack…"The President's shoulders slumped.
"Lewis Campos, the civilian designer of the Scorpio, defensive armament interface and the airmine tail defense system, was also killed."
"Well, who the hell is flying that B-52?"Secretary of Defense Thomas Preston asked.
"The aircraft commander is now Lieutenant-General Bradley Elliott, the Old Dog project director.
"Elliott?" the President asked. "How did he get on board?"
"General Elliott was there when the attack started," Curtis told him.
"When Colonel Anderson was killed he got on board and he and Lieutenant Colonel John Ormack, the crew co-pilot, taxied the bomber out of the hangar and launched it."
Curtis checked his notes: "General Elliott's aide, Lieutenant Harold Briggs, reported that Elliott was wounded in the right leg during the attack. All of the other members of the test team are aboard. He also reported that the bomber suffered damage taxiing out of the hangar-lost four feet of the left wingtip and one external fuel tank.
"X g "Are we in contact with the plane?" the President asked.