After the war began, these missiles were modified to include Multiple Independent Reentry Vehicles. Each MIRV warhead now contained a newly updated Hypersonic Glide Vehicle.
Almost immediately after the Russian and Chinese early warning radars were destroyed, the American ICBMs began launching from their silos. In remote farmland and mountainous countrysides across the US, streaks of thick white smoke rose up into the night sky and arced to the northwest.
Hundreds of missiles were launched. America was moving all of its chips into the pot. The HGV-carrying missiles stabilized in a vertical climb, each rolling about its longitudinal axis to the target azimuth and pitching over toward the target. At precise moments, various engines ignited on each missile, making fine corrections in pitch, roll, and yaw axes. Their inertial guidance system used stars in space as a reference backup, cross-checking its position with the on-board computer’s expected location and then making tiny corrections to improve accuracy.
After a few minutes, three stages of engine burnout and jettisons occurred. Then the rocket thrust terminated, and hundreds of delivery vehicles coasted in space, hurtling around the globe.
“Wow. Look at that,” said Lt. Suggs, piloting his F-18 Superhornet south over the American heartland. His squadron, along with a handful of others, had been stashed at CFB Cold Lake in Alberta, Canada, “hidden” next to a few Canadian F-18 squadrons and stuffed in surveillance-proof hangars until last night.
Outside the cockpit, he and his weapons systems officer watched as dozens of ballistic missiles separated from their boosters in the night sky.
“Those are ICBMs, brother.”
“Yeah. See the way the gas is expanding like that? That’s the sunlight hitting the exhaust. They look like phosphorescent sea creatures from the deep.”
“There’s another. Wow, look at all of them,” said his copilot. “Didn’t the Russians say they would fire on us if we launched any more nukes?”
Suggs’s body temperature rose and he felt numb watching the missiles’ white exhaust gasses expanding into long balloon shapes.
“Let’s just focus on the mission,” he said. “How far out is the tanker?”
“Twenty minutes.”
The nose cone of the lead Multiple Independent Reentry Vehicles “bus” opened to reveal five sleek hypersonic glide vehicles. Now over the northern Pacific Ocean, the individual HGVs began separating from their “bus,” each maneuvered to a precise trajectory and then released. The individual HGVs now aimed for separate targets, each within a few hundred kilometers of their fellow passengers.
The hypersonic glide vehicles “surfed” on the outer reaches of the earth’s atmosphere at over fifteen thousand miles per hour. Gradually, the metallic vehicles were pulled toward the earth by gravity and encountered atmospheric drag.
The effects were violent. Each HGV experienced aerodynamic heating and braking, but the Rojas coating protected its insides from the fifteen-thousand-degree shockwave near its nose.
The hypersonic glide vehicles continued to slow considerably but maintained a sizzling-hot temperature and a velocity of over Mach 8 when they made impact on their targets.
The Russian ICBMs were the first to go.
From the ground, the approaching HGVs looked like meteors travelling in precise geometric patterns. Observers witnessed the bright white objects racing across the sky in distant groups of five before collectively descending at a slightly steeper angle, and thus arriving almost simultaneously at targets dozens of kilometers apart. Sonic booms followed the glide vehicles as they cut through the atmosphere and rained down destruction on the missile fields of Kozelsk and Novosibirsk. The weapons destroyed mobile launchers in the Siberian pine forests, and three submarines in their pens in Yagelnaya Bay and Zapadnaya Litsa. Soon hundreds of targets were being hit in rapid succession.
Similar attacks were occurring in China, a simultaneous hypersonic missile strike on all known nuclear targets. Operation ARCHANGEL was in full swing.
In the Silversmith operations center, everyone stood at their stations, several calling out updates while most just waited for news. The tension was palpable.
“Recon drones are flying over targets now, but we won’t really know for a while,” David said to Henry.
Someone called out, “The first wave of American fighter aircraft is now over the Gulf of Mexico. They’re attacking what remains of the Chinese fleet.”
A naval officer said, “Our submarines are engaging Chinese and Russian submarines. Priority is sinking the remaining boomers.”
Susan walked toward David, looking stern. “It’s going well.”
David said, “That’s what worries me. How will General Chen react?”
“We need to hit those boomers.”
Henry furrowed his eyebrows. “The boomers? What are those?”
David said, “Ballistic missile submarines. All of the other targets were easier to keep track of. Our intelligence services have been working for months on getting the exact locations of the ballistic missiles and strategic nuclear bombers. We’re hitting those with our HGVs. But the submarines are another matter. They’re harder to keep track of. US attack submarines normally trail them from the moment they leave port. But after the war began, we had a supply and demand problem among our fast-attack submarines.”
Susan said, “There are two enemy ballistic missile submarines that we’re particularly worried about.”
One of the CIA operations officers yelled to Susan, “New information coming from Beijing.” The man shook his head. “It’s not good.”
42
The air raid sirens began wailing throughout the PLA command center as American hypersonic missiles struck their targets. General Chen’s security detail moved him quickly out of the building. Lena was evacuated with her father and the other senior leaders onto a pair of waiting presidential helicopters, which took them to the airport. Once there, they were shuffled onto a Boeing 747—the Chinese presidential aircraft. The irony of its American manufacturer was not lost on Lena as she hustled up the stairway. The doors shut, engines running, and soon they were sitting down in the main conference room as the large aircraft began its takeoff roll.
A PLA Air Force general said, “General Chen, we are able to communicate with all of our military forces from this plane. We will provide you with information as it arrives. You shall have full capability to command the war as we ensure your security.”
Over the next few minutes, Lena watched her father’s deteriorating psyche as the news came in from around the globe.
“All Chinese and Russian nuclear launch systems are down?” General Chen stood hunched over the central conference table, hands on his forehead, staring at the floor. He didn’t bother to make eye contact with his subordinates.
“Our navy still has two submarines off the US coast, although each has sent up messages within the past few hours that American naval vessels are actively hunting them.”
Lena said, “I have heard from my Russian contacts that their submarine force is under similar threat.”
General Chen looked up at his strategic missile force commander. “Tell me what you know of our hypersonic missile attack on the US.”
The commander was young for a four-star general. He had been promoted, like many of his fellow senior officers, when General Chen came to power.
“The Americans appear to have sabotaged our hypersonic missiles. Most of them crashed into the Gulf of Mexico.”
Minister Dong said, “My sources tell me that some of our hypersonic weapons have hit our own ships.”