“Put the audio on speaker and turn it up,” Dulles ordered.
“Yes sir.”
The airman jabbed his finger on a button, reached to the slide and eased it upward. The crackle jumped into the command center as well as multiple frantic conversations.
“Who’s in command?”
“Captain Daryl Wills,” Captain Jenner replied. “I’ve known him for a couple years. Good pilot.”
“He better be a damn good one right now,” Dulles replied.
All other actions in the command center came to a halt as everyone listened, and focused on the display. The chatter blaring over the speaker heated up.
“Break right! Break right!”
“He’s still there. Gonna roll!”
“What the…. Shit man. Shit!”
“Someone took a shot!”
“Who? Where’s it at?”
“Just flying off to nowhere. Damn it.”
“Damn it, who shot it?”
“Not us. Someone from behind me. Didn’t even come close. I didn’t hear a tone. Might be a drone shot to get us off guard, try to get us to shoot.”
“I’m lighting up the bomber. Let ’em hear this in their headset. I’ll bet it sounds the same in Russian.” Captain Daryl Wills engaged his targeting radar and it easily locked on the slower planes. Although they were supersonic bombers, they weren’t a match for his Raptor’s maneuverability. To his surprise, they didn’t even flinch.
“We got escorts on our tale, Chipmunk.”
“We do? Let’s just see how close we can get to this bomber. That’ll back ’em off.”
“What’s he going to do?” Dulles was suddenly on edge.
“I’m not sure, General.”
“He’d better not fire or I’ll have his ass.”
“That MIG’s lighting us up, Chipmunk.”
“He won’t fire. He’ll hit his own planes. Even a dumb Ivan knows he can’t splash a pretty new bomber. I’m going in close, stay with me.”
“Roger Chipmunk. On your six. What’re you gonna do?”
“I’m just going to give him a little nudge.”
Captain Wills swallowed hard and brought his streaking fighter directly above the last bomber in the formation. He could see the silhouette of the Russian pilot painted against the window. He knew he had to be careful; one blast of turbulence and it could all be over. He eased his fighter around the tip of the bomber’s wing, bringing himself below before sliding his own wing underneath.
“How long before they make the coast?”
“They’ll be within fifty miles before I end this sentence, General. Less than ten minutes to the coast, if they don’t turn back.”
“Get me the line to Elmendorf, airman.”
“Yes sir.”
General Dulles sneered again at the ‘sir’ comment, but said nothing. In times of stress, fall back on your training. That’s what you do. He had an operator on the other end in seconds.
“This is General Dulles. Get me General Foxx.” The other end of the line had another voice seconds later.
“Allan? Nate. We have Blackjacks and Migs on the coast. They’re not turning back.”
“What’s in the air, Nate?”
“Six Raptors are with them.”
“Want to send up more?”
“Naw, too many in the mix might make it worse.”
“What do you want from me?”
“You just need to be on higher alert in case something else happens. Maybe it’s nothing.”
“You need an E-3?”
“Not a bad idea. Won’t help me here, but we might need it north.”
“I’ll send one up over the pole to make sure no one is sneaking in behind Santa Clause.”
“Thanks Al.” The phone hit the console as Dulles returned to the display just in time to hear…
“Aw shit!”
“What the hell happened?”
“Chipmunk’s going down! Chipmunk’s going down! So is the bear. They must’ve clipped wings somehow!”
“Red Diamond. Red Diamond. Pull back. Pull back.”
“Who’s order?”
“Diamond Command, General Dulles. Clear the area, Red Diamond. That’s an order.”
“Sir, the Raptors are peeling off.”
“What are the Russians doing?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Damn. Jenner, get rescue in the air, pronto. No one can survive out there this time of year.”
“Yes sir.” Jenner turned to the console on his right, lifted the phone and gave the order to launch helos out from the coast. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a Navy exercise…”
“Do it!”
Jenner nodded as the airman dialed in the number.
“General, the Russians are veering off, turning away.”
“Bout damn time. Keep me posted, Captain.” Dulles’ words faded as he stormed out of the command center, his cigar smoke training behind.
Mary Higgins lifted the phone and gave her standard answer.
“White House Chief of Staff’s office. How may I help you?”
“Mary? This is General Scott from DOD. Is Marty in? It’s really important.”
“Yes General. He just returned from a luncheon. I’ll get him for you.” She punched a single button, putting the line on hold. ‘It’s always important’, she thought to herself. ‘Wonder what would happen if it was really, really important’. Another button connected her to the president’s chief of staff’s desk. “Mr. Powell? General Scott is on line four.”
“General Scott. What can I do for you today?”
“Big trouble, Martin.”
“Really!” The words made Martin Powell sit up straight in his chair. Fitzroy Scott was not one to mince words. Trouble meant real trouble. “What’s happening?”
“One of our fighters tangled with a Russian bomber over our airspace. Both went down.”
“What the…” The chief of staff cleared his throat, nearly choking on the news. “You don’t mince words, General. Where did it happen?”
“Over Alaska. They were directly over the coastline when they tangled up.”
“How the hell does one of our pilots hit a Backfire bomber?” Marty Powell leaned forward on his desk, his forehead coming to rest in his palm. “Those things should have been put out of their misery years ago. Do you mean they actually hit each other?”
“Not exactly, sir. It was a Blackjack bomber. We’re still investigating exactly what happened.”
“Holy crap. That’s the newer one. That means they weren’t just playing around.”
“I’m afraid not, at least that’s the same thing I’m thinking. I don’t have all the answers yet.”
“Let me know as soon as you do, General.” He leaned back into his padded office chair again, rubbing his closed eyes. “I can’t put this off. Facts or not, I have to tell the president.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
“Damn. How the hell does this happen?” Marty said to himself as he slowly lowered the phone. Martin Powell, a straight-talking southerner, almost a throwback to the Johnson era, crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. He let his head fall back as he looked at the white drop ceiling in his office. “Why now?” He hit yet another button on his phone. “Mary? Where is the president?”
“Just a moment, let me see.” Mary Higgins, a longtime government worker leafed through her appointment book. She had a section specifically for the president. She resisted keeping it on her computer, a security issue as far as she was concerned. Systems could be hacked. It would take an army to pry that appointment book away from her. It was safer than a still in the backwoods of Kentucky. In reality it took only seconds for her to find his itinerary, but it seemed forever to the chief of staff. “He’s in a meeting with Treasury right now. They should be done in fifteen minutes.”