Lowcraft looked at the other air force officer for an answer.
"That might do the job," the officer reluctantly admitted, "but it will also devastate the countryside for five miles all around and we have to take into account the fallout pattern."
"When you say 'do the job,' " General Lowcraft repeated, "what do you mean?"
"Take out the LCC completely," the air force officer said.
"That will stop them, won't it?" Hill asked.
"Unless they've already programmed Omega Missile to do something," the air force officer said.
"We're talking about dropping a nuclear weapon on American soil," Lowcraft said. "I don't—"
"We have to examine all possibilities," Hill cut in. "What effect will dropping such a bomb have?"
"Put a map of the Omega Missile LCC area on the screen," Lowcraft reluctantly ordered.
The map came up.
"If we put a twenty-megaton nuke center point on top of the LCC," Lowcraft said, "show me flash, blast, EMP, and fallout effects."
There was a pause, then several different colored circles appeared around the site. Hill looked at them, then slowly nodded. "It's worth at least preparing. Get the aircraft and bombs ready to target the Omega Missile launch facility. Have Barksdale begin evacuating the entire area. I want projections on delayed fallout, particularly with regards to New Orleans."
Lowcraft held up a hand. "I don't think you want to go to the president with a recommendation that we drop a nuclear weapon on the Louisiana countryside, Mr. Hill."
Hill glared at the general. "With all due respect, I don't want to drop a nuke on Louisiana either. But Kilten, and whoever's in there with him, can launch any of our nuclear weapons against any target in the world, whenever they feel like it! They've shown us that. The president understands the severity. He's discussing the severity of the Kentucky launching its missiles right now with the Russian president. I can assure you he understands this very well."
"I asked for options," Hill continued. "You've given me one. When this gets down to the wire, it might be the only one we have." Hill picked up the red phone.
Chapter Seventeen
Raising her left fist, Lieutenant Cruz signaled for the convoy of three Humvees to halt. She was riding in the top hatch of the lead vehicle along with her platoon sergeant, Technical Sergeant Everson. It was tight, the two of them standing side by side, but it allowed them to work as an efficient team.
Everson was a man's man, over six feet tall and solid muscle. Although he was only twelve years older than Cruz, he treated her like a daughter. In the six months since she'd taken over Alpha Platoon he'd shepherded her through the trials and tribulations a new platoon leader had to face. His ebony face crinkled as he looked ahead at the dump truck parked in the middle of the bridge.
"I don't like it, L.T.," he said.
"We can go around it," Cruz said. "There's room."
"Yeah, but why's it there?" Everson asked. "I suggest we send one Humvee across to check the far side and keep the other two back to cover it."
"All right," Cruz agreed.
Everson turned in the hatch and pointed at the vehicle behind them. He put two fingers to his eyes and then pointed across. The squad leader nodded. The Humvee drove around their truck and toward the bridge. Everson pulled back the charging handle on the M-60 machine gun as the third Humvee pulled up to their right to give supporting fire.
The Humvee was moving slightly faster than a walking pace and passing the dump truck when the entire bridge disappeared in a flash of light. The shock wave hit Cruz and Everson a second later, knocking them back against the rear of the hatch. When the smoke cleared, the center span of the bridge and the Humvee were gone.
"Goddamn!" Everson wiped a hand over his face, getting the dust off. He shook his head trying to clear the ringing. Dimly he heard a chugging noise that he knew was familiar, but he just couldn't get a clear idea of what it was at the moment. He looked across the river and spotted a line of small, black objects in the air looping toward him.
"Grenades!" Everson screamed as he grabbed Cruz and pulled her down into the interior of the Humvee. At that moment, the first grenade exploded on the right flank of the vehicle and then all hell broke loose as 40-mm grenades landed every second on and around the Humvee, sprinkling it with shrapnel. The other Mark IX grenade launcher was doing the same thing to the other Humvee.
Everson heard Cruz cry out and he felt something warm and wet on his hands. He looked down. A jagged piece of metal was stuck in her throat and blood pulsed around it. "Ah shit, ma'am," Everson muttered as he tried to stop the bleeding.
Thorpe heard the explosion and then the firing of the grenade launchers. "Faster!" he yelled at Parker.
She pressed down on the accelerator and they fishtailed around a turn and then the river was there, the bridge upstream a shattered ruin. He could see the two Humvees on the far side being peppered by 40-mm grenades from Mark IX launchers.
Thorpe swung the gun around, searching for the source of the firing on this side. He spotted a man to the left, an RPG on his shoulder. The man was standing on a small rise and aiming across the river at the two Humvees that the grenade launchers near him were suppressing from behind the cover of the rise.
Thorpe pulled the trigger and felt the familiar vibration of the M-60 in his hands. He walked rounds up and into the RPG man, blowing him down in a splatter of blood.
"Get out!" Thorpe yelled to Parker as one of the line of grenades turned toward them.
Instead, Parker gunned the engine and charged the ambush site. She was greeted by the streak of flame from another RPG that hit right in front of them. Thorpe felt the left tires lift and then the entire Humvee was up on its two right tires, balancing, then going over. Thorpe ducked down into the turret and barely escaped being cut in half as the Humvee came to rest upside down.
Everson couldn't stop the bleeding. He heard an explosion across the river and more firing. He stuck his head through to the driver's seat and cursed. Their driver was dead, his head mangled by a grenade that had exploded right in front on the hood.
Looking across the river, Everson could see the upside-down Humvee. As he watched, a man in black fatigues stood with an RPG launcher and fired. Everson flinched, then realized the rocket was aimed at the other Humvee in his platoon. It hit and the other vehicle was gone in a fireball. Everson knew they were next.
"The code," Cruz whispered. Everson turned back to her. She had a blood-stained piece of paper in her hand. "Take the code for the vault door and get out of here," she said.
Everson ignored his platoon leader's words. "I can't leave you, ma'am."
"That's an order, sergeant," Cruz said.
"Sorry, I can't follow that order," he said. He picked her up and carried her out the rear door. They rolled onto the ground. The Humvee burst into flames as an RPG rocket hit the engine.
"When I say get out, I don't mean go forward," Thorpe hissed at Parker as he crawled in the wreckage and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her through the backseat and out the rear, putting the Humvee between them and the ambushers.
"Sorry," Parker said. "I thought—"
"We need to get out of here," Thorpe said. "Your Security Police got wasted and the bad guys will be here next to finish the job." He lay on his stomach and looked around the edge of the Humvee. He could see two men standing, one with an RPG launcher in his hands.
"Let's go!" Thorpe said. He stood and sprinted, Parker at his heels, heading for the safety of the trees on the right side of the road. They made it as someone belatedly fired a machine gun in their direction.