The huge planes lumbered higher and higher, afterburners giving them speed. Romanov glanced outside and saw a huge wing wobble the slightest bit. The red light on the end always comforted him and he didn’t know why. In time, as the NORAD colonel cursed at the Reflex pilots to hurry, the planes moved into their positions.
Three distant AWACS now monitored the Chinese Ghosts. NORAD had ordered recon drones toward the first faint images. Now the air control officer could see the enemy aircraft much more clearly.
“We have target acquisition,” Major Romanov said in the first Reflex interceptor.
“Fire,” the NORAD colonel ordered.
The strategic ABM station in Fresno aimed its giant laser at Romanov’s mirror and fired its pulse. The powerful beam flashed upward. Like a banking billiard ball, the ray struck the airborne mirror and sped toward the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The first pulse stabbed into the darkness and burned down a Chinese Ghost, shearing off the rear third of the bomber.
A cheer erupted in Romanov’s headphones from NORAD Command. It made him grin.
Another pulse-beam from the Fresno station struck his reflex mirror. It bounced and traveled at the speed of light and missed the targeted bomber by seventeen inches.
Major Romanov heard groans in his headphones. Then a warning light flashed on his control panel. He flipped a switch, studying the readings. The mirror had taken damage, too much according to this. With each accumulated pulse-strike, the odds would increase of a burn-through against the plane.
“This is Echo Three,” Romanov said. “My mirror had degraded three percent beyond the safety limit.” Time seemed to stretch as Romanov awaited orders.
“Keep on standby,” the NORAD colonel said. “We may need you before this is over.”
The Fresno ABM station held its fire. Major Romanov banked his giant plane and took it out of position, lowering his altitude. They might need him before the night was through. That meant they might bounce the laser off his degraded mirror, possibly destroying his craft.
I might die.
It was a fearful thought, one he hadn’t envisioned while taxiing down the extra-long runway early this evening. He might die, but he was here to fight for his country.
The damned Chinese, why are they invading our country anyway?
The second Reflex interceptor moved up into position. Two and a quarter minutes later, the Fresno station fired its laser. The beam bounced off the new plane. This time, the pulse-laser struck true and burned down its second Ghost bomber, igniting the craft’s fuel and causing a spectacular midair explosion.
Captain Lee watched in horror as stealth bomber after stealth bomber perished to the great beam firing down from the heavens.
The Americans tech was better than the country had a right to possess. This was terrifying.
He increased speed and spilled chaff. He fired two decoy missiles. Each emitted strong signals. Somehow, the Americans could see them and he had to confuse the enemy.
Captain Lee gritted his teeth, willing his bomber to go faster. If he was going to die, he wanted to deliver his cargo. He needed another three minutes. He turned control over to the aircraft’s AI by pressing a button. The Ghost would jink now, maneuvering in a hopefully unpredictable manner. If the Americans used space lasers, as they must be since the beam slashed downward from above, those took time to beam to target. In that delay from sighting and firing was his slender hope.
The next few minutes of violent maneuvering brought vomit acid burning to the back of Captain Lee’s throat. The terrible laser destroyed most of the stealth bombers until only his plane survived. Twice more the laser struck, missing his plane by centimeters.
Now he had reached the maximum range of his missiles to the two targets. Captain Lee’s fingers moved fast, arming the missiles as the AI jinked again. The great beam flashed a third time, and once more, the Americans missed his plane.
Captain Lee laughed in nervous desperation. “Launching,” he whispered.
The first missile detached, causing the Ghost to wobble. Then a great flame appeared, and the nuclear-tipped missile flashed toward the Donner Pass.
Captain Lee detached his second missile, and the Ghost wobbled once more. At that moment the great beam bouncing off a Reflex interceptor found the captain’s plane. It burned through the canopy, instantly killing Lee and cutting the Ghost in two.
As the Chinese Air Force captain died, his second missile ignited, rocketing toward the distant target of Beckwourth Pass.
“Those are missiles, sir,” the air controller whispered.
“Burn them. Burn them now.”
“Do you know what they are, sir?”
“I don’t give a damn what they are. I want them taken out before they hit.”
Major Romanov’s throat had turned dry. NORAD gave the order and he took his plane back up.
He was glad his hands didn’t shake. The other two interceptors headed back to base in Fresno. Their mirrors had degraded too much. The mirrors wouldn’t reflect with a reasonable chance of accuracy. The calibrations needed due to distance were far too fine.
Romanov blinked and brought his aircraft into perfect alignment. The stars were bright up here and there were no clouds, just him and endless solitude. He radioed NORAD. They were going to use his mirror now. If the beam burned too strongly or if mirror had too many microscopic flaws—
As he held his position, Major Romanov began to pray, something he hadn’t done in years.
The first Chinese air-to-ground missile hugged the terrain. It expelled chaff and radio-emitting decoys. Twice a laser flashed by it, hitting the wrong target or missing by just enough.
Then the missile closed on its target. Its onboard computer adjusted the flight path, pitching the missile up. At precisely the height to give it maximum efficiency the nuclear warhead ignited. A fireball consumed the rail line and bridge and it tore into Donner Pass, causing rocks and boulders to fly and fall. A convoy was using the road, twenty huge transport trucks bringing M1A3 tanks to Los Angeles. The haulers and tanks crumpled and exploded in the fireball and blast, none of the drivers surviving. It was the first direct successful Chinese nuclear assault upon America.
“What is the status of your mirror?” the NORAD colonel asked Major Romanov.
The major sat blinking in astonishment. The Chinese had exploded a nuke.
“I repeat—”
“It’s operational,” Romanov said.
“Say again.”
“My mirror is operational. Go ahead, use it.”
Romanov was lying. They’re using nukes on us. He was lying, but he knew his duty. He was on the rampart defending his country. There was no one else to do this, just him.
“The laser is ready for firing,” the Fresno station chief reported.
“Fire,” the NORAD colonel said.
The second Chinese air-to-ground missile streaked toward target. There was no more chaff in its container and it had deployed every decoy. In another fifty-eight seconds, it would reach ignition point.
Then the pulse-laser from Major Romanov’s heavily degraded reflex mirror struck the Chinese missile. The missile exploded, but the nuclear warhead did not detonate. It tumbled earthward, unexploded, saving the Beckwourth Pass for America’s use.