“He still likes being involved in his own tests, Mr. President—the more outrageous, the better,” the man beside him, retired Lieutenant-General Patrick McLanahan, said. Shorter than Martindale but considerably more solidly built, McLanahan was as much a legend as Martindale, except only in the shadowy world of strategic aerial combat. He’d served five years as a B-52G Stratofortress navigator and bombardier in the U.S. Air Force before being chosen to join a top-secret research-and-development unit known as the High Technology Aerospace Weapons Center, or HAWC, based at an uncharted air base in the Nevada desert known as “Dreamland.”
Led by its audacious and slightly uncontrollable first commander, Lieutenant-General Bradley James Elliott, HAWC was tasked by the White House to perform secret missions throughout the world in order to stop an adversary from escalating a conflict into an all out war, using cutting-edge experimental technology that wouldn’t be used by any other military forces for many years—if ever.
HAWC’s specialty was modifying older aircraft with new systems and technology to make them perform unlike anything anyone had ever seen, and then using weapons brought to HAWC for classified test programs in the real world to quickly and quietly suppress a potential foe. Most of HAWC’s missions would never be known about by the public; the pilots chosen to test-fly a brand-new aircraft would never know not only that were they not the first to fly it but that the plane had already been used in combat; the families of the scores of dead aviators and engineers, both military and civilian, would never know what really happened to their loved ones.
Because of Elliott’s single-minded determination to dominate, as well as HAWC’s incredible capabilities, which far exceeded any civilian or military commander’s expectations, the unit often initiated responses to new threats without full knowledge or authorization from anyone. That eventually led to mistrust and finally to outright condemnation by the Washington and Pentagon establishment, which sought to isolate and even undermine HAWC’s activities.
As its most experienced and tested aviator and systems operator, McLanahan had been alternately praised, punished, promoted, dismissed, decorated, and disgraced during his fourteen years as a member of HAWC. Although he was widely considered America’s most heroic general since Norman Schwarzkopf, McLanahan retired from the Air Force as quietly as he had appeared on the scene, without fanfare, praise, or gratitude from anyone.
As both vice president and president, Kevin Martindale had been HAWC’s most ardent supporter and advocate, and over the years he knew he could rely on Patrick McLanahan to get the job done, no matter how impossible the odds. With both of them now out of public life, it was no surprise to Jon Masters to see them standing side by side here in the deserts of New Mexico, on a secret weapon test range.
“Congratulations again, Dr. Masters,” Martindale said. “I understand you can build that Slingshot laser self-protection system into any aircraft?”
“Yes, sir, we can,” Boomer said. “All it needs is a power source and a twelve-inch open access panel through the aircraft’s pressure vessel for the infrared detection sensor and beam director. We can install and calibrate a unit in a matter of days.”
“Does it form a protective cocoon around the entire plane, or just shoots the beam toward the missile?”
“We focus the beam on the enemy missile to save power and maximize the destructive effect of the laser beam,” Jon explained. “As soon as the infrared seeker detects a missile launch, it sends a beam of concentrated high-power laser energy along the same axis within milliseconds. Then, if the system can compute the approximate launch point, it’ll automatically hit the enemy launch area to try to knock out the bad guy.”
“What did getting hit by a laser beam feel like, Jon?” Patrick asked.
“Like being dunked in boiling cooking oil,” Jon replied with a weak smile. “And that was at the lowest power setting.”
“What else can that laser do, Jon?” Martindale asked. “I know HAWC has deployed offensive laser systems in the past. Is Slingshot like that?”
“Well, sir, the laser is only for self-defense, of course,” Jon replied sarcastically.
“Just like the XC-57 is no longer a bomber, right, Jon?”
“Yes, sir. The U.S. government doesn’t approve of its defense contractors building offensive weapons and using the technology in a manner that might harm relations with other countries or violate any laws. So the laser system is fairly limited in range and capabilities—mostly for use against tactical antiaircraft systems and their operators.”
“That leaves a lot left open for interpretation,” Patrick noted. “But you could turn the knob and pump up the power a skosh, right?”
“As far as you know, Muck, the answer is no,” Jon said.
The former president motioned toward the sky in the direction of the departing aircraft, which was just now entering the downwind pattern to set up for a landing. “Pretty risky using one of your new big test-bed planes to test the system, wasn’t it, Doc?” Martindale asked. “That was a real Stinger missile you fired at your own aircraft, I take it? Your shareholders can’t be too happy about risking a multi-million-dollar aircraft like that.”
“I wanted to water your eyes, of course, Mr. President,” Jon replied. “What the directors and shareholders don’t know won’t hurt them. Besides, this XC-57 ‘Loser’ is unmanned.”
“‘Loser,’ huh?” Patrick McLanahan commented. “Not the coolest name you’ve come up with, Jon.”
“Why in the world do you call it that?” Martindale asked.
“Because it lost out in the Next Generation Bomber competition,” Jon explained. “They didn’t want an unmanned plane; they wanted it stealthier and faster. I was going for payload and range, and I knew I could arm it with hypersonic standoff weapons, so we didn’t need stealth.
“Besides, I’ve been designing and building unmanned aircraft for years—just because they weren’t comfortable with it doesn’t mean it couldn’t be considered. Isn’t the Next Generation Bomber supposed to be next generation? The design wasn’t even considered. Their loss. Then, to add insult to injury, I was prohibited from building the plane for ten years.”
“But you built it anyway?”
“It’s not a bomber, Mr. President—this is a multirole transport,” Jon said. “It’s not designed to drop anything; it’s designed to put stuff into it.”
Martindale shook his head woefully. “Tap-dancing around the law…who else do I know likes to do that?” Patrick said nothing. “So you use an unmanned aircraft—that’s not a bomber—for the test of a laser that’s not an offensive weapon, but then put yourself in the line of fire to test its effects on a human? Makes perfect sense to me,” Martindale said drily. “But you certainly did water my eyes.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You have how many of the Losers flying now, Jon?” Patrick asked.
“There are just two others—we built three for the NGB competition but stopped work on the second and third when our design was rejected,” Jon replied. “It’s still a research-and-development program, so it was low priority…until you called, Mr. President. We’re considering putting our system on commercial planes as well as high-tech airframes.”