End Game

“Weapons system is in the green,” said the copilot.

Brea

“Coffeemaker’s gone, though. Ditto the refrigerator and microwave.”

“Don’t tell Zen about the coffeemaker,” said Brea

“We have to keep his morale up.”

“There’s probably a pattern to the circuits that took the hit,” said the other pilot. “But I can’t quite figure it out.”

“We’ll save it for when we get home,” Brea

“Give the scientists something to do. How’s your stomach?”

380

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

“Much better. I think some of your twists and turns jerked it back into place.”

The Megafortress contained only six ejection seats. If they had to ditch, two people would have to don parachutes and jump from the Flighthawk bay. Ejecting from the Megafortress in the seats was a harrowing experience—

Brea

If it came to that, Brea

She pushed the thought from her mind. It wasn’t going to come to that.

NSC Situation Room

2038, 14 January 1998

(0638, 15 January, Karachi)

JED KNEW THE EEMWBS HAD WORKED AS SOON AS THE FEED

from one of their satellites died. He immediately turned to the screen that showed data from one of the ELINT “ferrets,” or radio signal stealers, just outside of the effected area. The screen did not provide raw data, which would have been meaningless to the people in the room; rather, it presented a line graph of the volume of intercepts on frequencies used for missile control. The line had plummeted.

Jed stared at it, willing it to stay at the bottom of the screen.

But it didn’t. It jerked back up, though only to about a fourth of where it had been.

“What’s going on?” he asked the operator.

END GAME

381

“This is in the northern Arabian Sea. It’s too far from the explosions to affect them. But the target area was wiped out totally. Just about over to the coast—better results than expected.”

“Are the nukes down?”

“I don’t know for sure. Too soon.”

Jed went to the screens showing the U-2 feeds over the Arabian Sea. The display from the northernmost aircraft shocked him: Seven missiles had just struck the Indian aircraft carrier Shiva. The photo captured the exact instant of impact of two of the missiles, and showed two more about to strike.

“That’s the Shiva?” Jed asked.

“Yes,” said the technician.

“Wow.”

“That’ll sink her.”

National Security Advisor Philip Freeman had joined the President and his small entourage at the side of the room.

He came and looked over Jed’s shoulder.

“The Chinese struck the Indians?” he asked.

“Those missiles came from the Abner Read,” said the techie.

“Our missiles?” asked the President.

The man nodded.

Freeman glanced at Jed in alarm.

“They came under attack,” said Jed.

“Captain Gale is certainly living up to his name,” said Martindale. “It’s too late now, Philip. We’ll deal with Storm later. And Balboa, who probably authorized this.”

“I want Balboa’s scalp,” said Freeman. “It’s way past due.”

“Mr. President, Jed—the NSA just picked up a transmission from China for the carrier,” said Peg Jordan, the NSA liaison. “Tai-shan. It’s a go.”

382

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

Aboard the Wisconsin , over India

0645

THE MEGAFORTRESS’S STICK FELT SURPRISINGLY LIGHT IN

Colonel Bastian’s hand, the big aircraft responding readily to his inputs. They were in good shape; while the plane’s electronic systems were offline, Dog could talk to Dreamland Control via the shielded backup radio. When they reached the coast, Major Cheshire would be able to track them via one of the U-2s that was surveying the northern Arabian Sea. She would guide them to Chu and Dreamland Fisher, or all the way back to Diego Garcia if necessary.

A buzzer sounded in Dog’s headset. He said his name and then his clearance code. The system had to process both before the communication was allowed to proceed.

“Colonel Bastian?” said Jed Barclay, coming onto the line.

“Go ahead, Jed.”

“The Chinese have ordered the aircraft carrier to use the nuclear option.”

“All right, Jed. We understand. I’m in contact with the other aircraft and will be right back with you.”

Aboard the Deng Xiaoping,

in the northern Arabian Sea

0645

CAPTAIN HONGWU LOOKED AT THE CABLE AGAIN, EVEN THOUGH

it contained only two characters: Tai-shan.

Much was left unsaid in the cable, begi

END GAME

383

The cable was silent, too, on what the consequences of the action would be. These, Captain Hongwu tried to put out of his mind.

“Clear the flightdeck and prepare the Tai-shan aircraft,”

said the captain. “Launch all aircraft.”

The men on the bridge began to respond.

“Captain, Squadron One is reporting multiple missile strikes on the Indian aircraft carrier,” said the air boss. “The missiles have apparently come from the American vessel.”

“The Americans?”

“It’s the only explanation.”

Without their radar helicopters, the carrier had no long-range sensors. While it was an exaggeration to say it was blind, Hongwu and his officers had a very limited picture of the battlefield.

“Investigate. Send two aircraft to find the precise location of the American ship and keep it under surveillance. Make sure they are prepared for surface attack.”

“Are the Americans our allies now, Captain, or our enemies?”

“Perhaps both,” said Hongwu, staring out at the sea.

Aboard the Levitow ,

over India

0645

THE TEMPERATURE IN ENGINE THREE HAD MOVED WELL INTO

yellow. If she’d had three other good power plants, Brea

Managing 390 knots, the Levitow was still about twenty minutes from the coast. They wouldn’t be out of danger once she got there either—the effects of the EEMWBs wouldn’t quite reach that far, and any aircraft operating on the western coast of Indian and to the south would be a threat.

384

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

“We ought to head farther south,” suggested Stewart. “If we go back to our original course, we can pick up the Flighthawk.”

“It’ll take too long to get into position to join DreamlandFisher and watch the Chinese carrier.”

“We’re not going to be able to do that.”

“What?” Brea