United States Northern Command
Cheyenne Mountain Space Force Station, CO
While it had only been a few minutes since the order to use nuclear weapons, it seemed like hours to Wilkes. Every detail was excruciating, every pause in communication was torture. It was very clear that the US military was under extreme electronic attack from persons unknown, but everyone assumed it was the Chinese. First, communications satellites had started going off the air, now computers and other systems within the military were starting to fail or simply refusing to work normally.
The secure audio channel set up to monitor the pending attack suddenly came alive. “EMPTY QUIVER. EMPTY QUIVER. EMPTY QUIVER. USSTRATCOM is declaring an EMPTY QUIVER event.”
Wilkes thought he was beyond shock, but the empty quiver declaration almost put him into a state of panic. The little-known companion to a “Broken Arrow” event (loss of a nuclear weapon), “Empty Quiver” was a failure of a nuclear weapon or weapon system to function. The US strategic nuclear arsenal, while never actually used in combat since WWII, was assumed to be the highest-functioning weapons system in the US arsenal. No expense was spared to ensure that it would work if ever called upon.
Physically shaking himself, he opened a video call to his boss, General Earhart again. “Sir, what happened?”
“No idea, but I must assume that the Chinese have infiltrated the NC3 system. We have zero ability to send positive release orders.”
Holy Shit, is this how the world ends?
Wilkes took a moment to compose himself again. “So, it’s down to Northern Command.”
“That’s right. Ardent Resolve is our best bet. You’re my alternate in case they take out the facilities here.” He looked over this shoulder. “The weapons are starting to impact, no reports yet if they are nuclear.” Wilkes could see people moving around in the background behind general Earhart. Panic was perhaps too strong a word, but he had never seen this level of activity at Northern Command before. People were clearly doing their jobs, but the tension and anxiety in the operations room where Earhart was calling from were palpable, even over the video link.
“Yes, sir. Perhaps we should move you and your staff down here.”
“No time. We have to…” With that, the video stopped.
“Negative Nucflash. Say again, Negative Nucflash.”
The report was the first good news all day. So far, these were “just” conventional ballistic weapons, not nuclear weapons. While the idea of thousands of incoming weapons attacking the United States was still terrifying, it was something they could handle.
“Get Northern Command back.”
“I have negative function on all channels.”
“Did you check the fiber?”
“Yes, sir, good relay on the fiber here; it’s dead on their end.” The US military had gone to the trouble of burying fiber optic cable between most of their major sites including Peterson where his boss was located. He had to assume the base was under attack, perhaps destroyed.
“Inform all CONUS units that overall theater command has shifted to Crystal Palace.”