"Yes, sir," Curtis asked. "So far, only nonsecure U.H.F contact. They launched without any classified code documents.
What we are trying to do right now is code a message to the crew to get them to set a three-digit address code into their satellite transceiver. Once we're hooked up that way, we can transmit instructions."
"Where are they now?"
"They're orbiting one hundred and twenty miles off the coast of Big Sur at high altitude, as far off the jet airways as possible. Elliott is obviously trying to hide his plane as best he can."
"Why is he still in the air?" asked Thomas Preston. "It's loaded down with weaponry, modified to the hilt-it should be back on the ground immediately."
"I believe General Elliott feels that in broad daylight there's nowhere the plane can land without attracting attention. The Dreamland runway is usable but the hangar was destroyed and there are newspeople all over the place."
"Any alternate landing sites for the plane?" the President asked.
A, "There are several possibilities," Curtis said, "and the Old Dog still has eight hours of fuel. Two airfields on the Red Flag restricted area are prime sites, although they're not nearly as secure as Dreamland. A few possibilities in Seattle, Washington, and Alaska."
The President leaned back in his chair. "We can't send the Old Dog instructions without risking eavesdropping or discovery. Meanwhile, we have two other fully armed bombers on their way to Russia… If Elliott isn't in danger, then he can wait until tonight and land the plane somewhere where it can be concealed. Preferably back in Dreamland or Southern Nevada. "The President closed his eyes and said to his press secretary: "Jack. Ideas on how to call this?"
"We'll call it a terrorist attack on a deactivated Air Force research facility. The base was being dismantled by military and civilian workers, a shadowy terrorist group with ties to Qaddafi struck the facility, believing it still to be active.
"We may never know the real truth about where the attackers came from or how they managed to slip through the base defenses," Curtis said.
"We've established that they were flying an American-made cargo plane, but so far the wreckage has yielded few clues as to its ownership. All of the bodies have been shipped to DIA labs in Washington for dental and fingerprint analysis and examination of personal effects, but whoever the hell organized the attack was damn careful to cover his tracks. There were Caucasians as well as Orientals, and all of them wore American-made clothes. Except for a piece of metal we found, that appears to have come from a Soviet-made bazooka, there's really nothing to suggest, let alone prove, Soviet involvement "Who else would want to attack that base?" Preston asked.
"I've asked myself the same question, Mr. Secretary, but so far the evidence against the Russians is almost entirely circumstantial-" The President cut him off. "We'll go with the terrorist story for now and revise it if we have to. "He turned again to his press secretary.
"Jack, don't forget those letters to the families.
I want them on my desk A.S.A.P" "Half-hour, Mr. President," Pledgeman said, and left the room.
From behind closed eyes the President asked, "Anything else, gentlemen?" No reply. "Any Soviet reaction?"
"Nothing, Mr. President," Marshall Brent asked. "Probably waiting for us to accuse them. I'll be meeting with Karmarov shortly," The President turned to General Curtis. "Status of the B-1s, General?"
"Dead on time, sir. They'll be getting their first refueling over Canada right about now."
The President was silent for a moment. Curtis was positive the President was going to cancel the B-1 sorties when he finally said: "I'll be upstairs in my office. Keep me advised of their progress every half hour. I'll monitor the mission from there.
"Yes, Mr. President."
"And get Elliott and his… his Old Dog on the ground.
Have them keep their plane hidden as best as possible. They can wait for a night landing, but that's all. I've got three planes too many flying already."
"We'll send the Old Dog up to Seattle, sir," Curtis offered as he headed for the door. "They've got the room and the right people to disarm it-" "Disarm it?" the President said. Everyone in the Situation Room froze. "Disarm it?What the hell is it armed with, General?"
"Sir, General Elliott's plane, if you remember, was a testbed experimental aircraft.it.. - it probably has all of the weaponry the Excaliburs have-the air-to-air missiles, the-" They don't have any nuclear weapons on board, do they, General?" Tom Preston, the Secretary of Defense, asked. "No one authorized- "No, sir," Curtis said quickly. He turned to the President.
"General Elliott's B-52 was conducting tests on the Striker Tv-guided glide bomb. He is probably carrying one of them."
"Well, make damn sure that plane is disarmed as soon as it lands, " the President said.
"We don't need another screw-up. "The President didn't wait for Curtis' muted "Yes, sir," but stormed past the Marine guards and headed for the elevator.
Curtis waited until the others had left, then headed for the Situation Room communications center, where communications experts were working out a transmission routine for the Satellite Communications code, SATCOM.Once Elliott had the code and had set it into his SATCOM receiver aboard the Old Dog, Curtis could talk to the crew. But first he had to figure out how to give the code to the crew without compromising the code itself.
He walked into the communications center. "Well?"
"Transmitting now, General," the chief of the center, reported. "It'll be picked up by the SAC Emergency action Network in a few minutes, and it'll continue until ordered to stop."
"Good. You know that the crew has no decoding documents, no secrets."
"Yes, sir. They shouldn't need any. We have direct voice backup routines being put together if necessary."
Curtis nodded. "Word from the Excaliburs?"
"Ops normal message three minutes ago from both birds, Chr(34)+ the chief said.
"Still hadn't finished refueling."
Curtis accepted the full printout of the Excalibur crews messages and put it in his briefcase. He sighed, louder than he intended.
"Keep me informed. "And wondered what next could go wrong.
"Genesis, this is Los Angeles Center."
General Elliott put down the can of water Dave Luger had found in a rations container downstairs and readjusted his microphone. "Go ahead, Los Angeles.
"Your emergency flight plan has been received," the controller said.
"Your call sign is now Dog Zero-One Fox. Yo are cleared to orbit as required. Acknowledge.
Elliott looked quizzically at Ormack. "Strange call sign, Chr(34)+ Elliott said.
"Dog Zero-One Fox acknowledges, center," Elliott replied over the radio.
"Any other messages, Los Angeles?"
"Negative, Zero-One," the controller replied. "Radar sen ice terminated, cleared to contact oceanic flight following."
"Zero-One Fox, thank you. "Elliott picked up the olive drab can of water from the crew survival kit and took a sip he stared out of the cockpit windows.
"Well," Elliott said, "we're cleared-but to where?How For how long?"
"They'll try to contact us-somehow," Ormack asked. "We're monitoring all the SAC Command Post frequencies SATCOM, all the emergency frequencies, and the S.A Emergency Action Alpha monitor periods on high-frequency radio. Maybe they haven't decided what to do yet.
"Well, I've decided," Elliott said, rubbing at the pain spreading in his right calf. "We've got to land this beast tonight. If they don't tell us where, we'll pick the place.
Tonopah, Indian Springs-wherever we need to go. "Over the ship's interphone, he said, "Crew, we've received notification from Center that our call sign is now Dog Zero-One Fox."do McLanahan said: "Any word on what we're supposed to "Not Elliott asked. "Just keep monitoring your yet, assigned frequencies. We should hear something soon.