"It's OK, Tom."
They walked quietly, lost in their own thoughts while Thorpe held his son's hand tightly. When they arrived at the wreckage, Thorpe knelt down next to Maysun, who was unconscious.
"How is he?" Parker asked.
Thorpe pulled some smelling salts out of the first aid kit. "A slight case of shock," he answered. He wafted the salts under Maysun's nose. The pilot started awake.
"What? What's going on?"
Thorpe quickly brought him up to speed on what was happening. He didn't mention that Tommy had wandered away. When he finished, Thorpe turned back to Parker.
"Who would think up something like Omega Missile?" Thorpe asked.
"Kilten did. Or at least he did to the specifications given him by the Joint Chiefs."
"So they invented a way for us to finish off the whole world in case we get wiped out first? A machine to destroy the rest of the planet if we could no longer do it ourselves?"
"That about sums it up," Parker said.
Thorpe wondered aloud, "When did we get so sick?"
Parker remembered Sanchez's career-ending decision. She'd had her own epiphany in the past fifteen minutes and as much as she didn't like it, she accepted it. "When people like you and me become part of the machine. You can get pretty sick when you don't pay attention to your gut."
If Thorpe found her answer odd, he didn't show it. "So is there any way for you to just turn the machine off?"
"Only by getting back in the LCC and getting to REACT."
Thorpe gave her a determined, crooked smile. "Then that's what we'll do."
The atmosphere in the War Room was not a pleasant one. "How come neither the president nor I know about Omega Missile? Or this REACT computer?" Hill demanded.
"It's in his strategic nuclear briefing packet that—'' General Lowcraft began.
Hill snorted. "That damn packet is six hundred pages long. I sat in on the briefing you gave him before he took office and no one mentioned this thing!" Hill shook his head. "As I see it, you've taken the president out of the loop!"
Lowcraft clenched his teeth. "Omega Missile exists because of the very high possibility that the president and those immediately below him in the NCA chain will get knocked out of the loop in the first moments of any nuclear exchange. Omega Missile exists to keep our nuclear system from becoming immobilized if incapacitated by an enemy first strike."
"Oh, come on—" Hill began.
"You want to talk about the loop?" Lowcraft cut in angrily. "You know the red phone in the Oval Office?" The chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff didn't wait for an answer. "Well, after Kennedy had been in office a few months, he happened to look around and he couldn't find the infamous red phone. He was told that Eisenhower had kept the phone in his desk. They checked all the drawers and still couldn't find the damn thing. Turns out Jackie had switched desks and they'd simply unplugged the red phone and taken it out with the old desk. So maybe the guys who do the dying don't trust that you civilians necessarily have their best interests at heart."
Hill stared at Lowcraft. "That's over thirty years ago. Jesus, General, get—"
"You want to talk about the present administration?" Lowcraft poked a finger at Hill. "How many times have we tried to get the president to come down here to run a command post exercise? To at least let our people brief him on the SIOP in the football that follows him everywhere. Tell me that, Hill. Hell, do you even know what SIOP stands for?"
The officers nearby had all stopped working, and although military etiquette prevented them from staring at the two senior men, it was obvious that they were listening.
Hill simply stared at the fuming general for a little while, letting the other man calm down. From long experience he also knew that Lowcraft was right. The president, as had every recent president before him with the exception of Carter, who was an Annapolis grad, had had one briefing prior to taking office about the nuclear launch structure and the SIOP and that was the extent of their knowledge of the country's nuclear war plan and launch procedure.
Those in the administration defended that lack of interest by saying the president was a very busy man. It was hard to believe, however, that he could be too busy to study the plans that might end mankind. Hill knew that the main reason there was so little focus by politicians on nuclear war planning was fear. Even at the top levels of government, there was a distinct discomfort about focusing on the country's nuclear arsenal. If one stared too long at the product of over forty years of paranoia and fear, the underlying insanity became too obvious. So it was ignored like a crazy aunt kept in the attic. Ignored until times like this when the banging on the floorboards couldn't be ignored. Hill had only one priority right now: keep the banging from bringing down the whole house.
Contrary to Lowcraft's angry words, as national security adviser for this and two other previous administrations, Hill knew what SIOP stood for: Single Integrated Operation Plan, a misnomer if ever there was one. Hill had read the seventy-five laminated pages in the black football carried by a warrant officer that followed the president everywhere. The plan presented a multitude of retaliatory launch options for the president that Hill found stupefying. He was a ruthless man and the prospect daunted even him. He knew the president would be even more overwhelmed if the football ever had to be opened and used under the stress of incoming missiles with just minutes to make a decision.
On the other hand, though, the reluctance of those in the administration to look at the nuclear system allowed Hill the free hand to use the Red Flyer missions and events like Operation Delilah to further the U.S.'s interests in the political arena.
But Lowcraft wasn't done. "You asked me about the beach in Lebanon when you came in. We were left out of the loop on that one, weren't we?"
Hill stabbed a finger in the other man's chest. "You watch your mouth, General."
"What exactly was going on there?"
"None of your business."
Both men fell silent and glared at each other.
"All right," Hill finally said. "The only question is, General, can we control Omega Missile?"
Lowcraft's answer was carefully worded. "Right now it's not under our control."
"Then what's going on?"
"I don't know. I don't even know why it was launched. Barksdale Air Force Base reported a strike warning, but their headquarters in Cheyenne Mountain didn't send it. There was a large explosion next to the base that looked like a nuclear explosion, but there's no sign of radiation. Frankly, I don't know what's going on."
Hill ran out of patience. "Well, General, you'd goddamn well better find out what's going on before I have to talk to the president."
"Is our little demonstration ready?" McKenzie asked.
Kilten didn't say anything. He just sat in his seat, staring at McKenzie. The events of the day so far had sapped the sick man's strength.
McKenzie's mood abruptly changed as he slapped the desktop. "We're here now! We're committed. Do you understand?"
Still, Kilten didn't say anything.
"When you approached me with this, you said you were going to break the law for the greater good, do you remember?"
Kilten finally nodded.
"We've crossed the line," McKenzie continued. "We're criminals. That's not going to change. What can change is the results of our actions. If you stop now, the only result will be that those who died and will die, will have died in vain. There are many who died long before today because of this. And millions more will die if we don't follow through. That's what your own calculations say, correct?" He leaned forward until his face was only a few inches from Kilten's. "Hell, you're dying now. You have to follow through on your plan."