This was it. They awaited countdown orders.
I never figured I’d become a space paratrooper.
He still had his faceplate open. So did everyone else in the compartment, all twelve of them of Second Squad. Each Orion ship carried three hundred and thirty-three effectives, three companies of the most elite soldiers in the world. The vessels were honeycombed with compartments, built to survive the enemy’s defenses in order to bring as many Marines to battle as possible.
“Amigo,” Romo said.
“Yeah?” Paul asked.
“I hope this works.”
“You worried?”
“I am,” Romo admitted.
“Why would you be worried? They’re only going to light nuclear bombs under our asses.”
“Ah,” Romo said. “Yes, never mind. I feel better now.”
“Crazy way to taxi into battle,” Paul said. “But it does have one advantage.”
“What is that?”
“It’s never been done before.”
“Oh,” Romo said. “Yes. That makes me feel even better than before. You are a genius.”
“Why don’t you ladies pipe down?” Dan French asked from his couch. “This is no worse than exiting a submarine underwater in the freezing Arctic. I’ve done that a hundred times.”
“Si, you are right,” Romo said. “And no worse than riding a helo across a nuclear wasteland—have you done that?”
“Pfft,” Dan said. “That ain’t nothing. If you want to brag—”
“I leave that to you media hounds—the SEALs,” Romo said.
“Who you calling hounds?” Dan asked.
“I do believe—”
A blaring klaxon cut Romo off. After it stopped, the silence seemed to ring in Paul’s ears.
“Seal up, Marines,” the captain said over the intercom. “We’re launching in a few minutes.”
“Good luck, my friends,” Romo said. “I wish I were home in Mexico.”
“Or Tallahassee,” Dan French said.
For one of the first times in his life, Paul’s words dried up. A feeling of unease struck. Would he ever see his wife again?
He didn’t remember saying “Good luck,” but the faceplate slid closed. As a metal cocoon, he waited.
“One minute to liftoff,” the captain said in his headphones.
Three Orion ships were about to lift from the United States of America. They would reach Low Earth Orbit over China. The vessels would have to be going just the right speed at the correct orbital spin to launch them. Then— “Thirty seconds to liftoff,” the captain said. “It’s going to be rough, gentlemen. But no worries, the greatest technicians in the world built this little thing. The Chinese figured we were down and out. Now they’re going to learn that you might be able to win a few battles against America, but in the end, we’re going to come a-knocking and give you an old-fashioned ass-whupping.”
Paul couldn’t believe it, but he grinned from ear to ear. The bombastic talk struck a chord in him. In the end, he believed exactly what the captain said. If you come at me, you might get the first swing. But I’m going to finish it. These Orion ships are the beginning of the end, China. And I’m in on it.
“Ten,” the captain said. “Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one… America, we have liftoff.”
A powerful nuclear explosion thrust up against the acceleration couch. It slammed with terrific force, threatening to crush Paul’s chest.
The most powerful propulsion systems known to humanity lifted the massive Orion ship into the air. Weapons-grade U-235 was the fuel, nuclear bombs, baby. An immensely thick metal plate absorbed the blast, pushed higher and higher each time.
It proved impossible to breathe during a blast. Paul had to do so during the between times. This was crazy. Tons of hardened ablative foam lay behind the metal plate. The foam’s single purpose was to cushion the shock for those riding ship into Low Earth Orbit.
Each nuclear explosion poured x-rays, heat and neutrons onto the ground below. That’s why the three ships lifted off in this part of “empty” Montana. The nuclear bombs lifted thousands of tons of mass. That allowed each Orion ship to hold three hundred and thirty-three Marines in their armor with their weapons systems. It meant each vessel had missiles to fire down at the enemy, and several lifters to drop with the orbital-paratroopers. That meant, too, that a crew and damage control party rode along for the mission. No other propulsion system gave as much quick lift out of Earth’s gravity well as these.
Paul Kavanagh endured the hell-ride into the heavens. The blasts took the heavy craft up and up, and they propelled the Orion ship toward the People’s Republic of China on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.
General Foxx of the C and C THOR Missile Station stood with his mouth agape as he watched the big screen. Three giant craft brightened like the sun. From his vantage, they looked like rounded, titanic bricks, farting nuclear explosions for propulsion.
“Orion ships,” a woman said in awe at her terminal.
Foxx closed his mouth, nipping his tongue. He winced and then stood straighter, ignoring the pain. “This is it, people. The United States is sending its Marines into the fight. That’s why we’ve been timing our bundles of THORs. We’re using everything, as you know. Are there any questions?”
No one spoke or raised a hand. He’d briefed them, and these folks knew their stuff.
“We’re going to take out the Xi’an and the Lanzhou Particle Beam Weapons antimissile sites,” Foxx said. “Now I know we haven’t been able to touch one of these strategic locations so far. But we also haven’t built up as big a fleet of THORs at one time or expended them all at once on anyone yet. Tonight is the night. The war rests on us doing our part. So keep at your stations and report even the slightest change to me. We must destroy those two sites if this is going to work.”
After he finished talking, everyone went back to his or her tasks. He knew some of what was supposed to happen. The rest he would find out.
We made the THORs work for us once against the German Dominion, why not against the Chinese? And why not orbital dropping Marines? This is America. We’re the masters of high-tech warfare. Tonight, we’re going to teach the world that one more time.
A breathless Shun Li with Fu Tao beside her raced into the Ruling Committee chamber in the basement. The Chairman sat transfixed in his chair, staring at a wall image.
Shun Li frowned. On the wall appeared three strange missiles rising from North America. As she watched, they bloomed with light.
“May I ask a question?” Shun Li asked.
While keeping his gaze fixed on the three objects, the Chairman nodded.
“Do you know what those are, Leader?” Shun Li asked.
“Giant missiles,” Hong said. “My experts have informed me the Americans are attempting to put orbital bombs into space.”
“What? Why?”
The Chairman swiveled his head to stare at her, an unpleasant feeling. “Isn’t it obvious? They wish to annihilate China from space.”
“But…”
“We must retaliate with everything!” Hong cried, slamming a fist onto the table.
“But…” Shun Li said again.
“I disagree with your reaction, Leader,” Marshal Kiang said, striding into the chamber. Behind him followed several Army men with pistols at their belts.