United States Northern Command
Cheyenne Mountain Space Force Station, CO
“Sir, we have a problem here.”
General Wilkes stood up and walked over to the chief master sergeant who was running ops for Cheyenne mountain. “What is it, Sergeant?”
“One of those new Chinese birds has separated into a hundred pieces. Radar is tracking a cloud surrounding where it used to be.”
“Meteor strike?”
“Perhaps…” He clicked a few buttons and the main display shifted, showing a computer image processed from the massive PAVE PAWS radar installations used to track satellites and missiles in orbit. “SIR! They are maneuvering!” That only meant one thing. The satellite had deployed multiple objects that each had their own maneuvering controls. The satellites hadn’t exploded; they had launched hundreds of weapons.
“DROP KICK.”
“Yes, sir! I have a definite DROP KICK. Confirming.”
DROP KICK was the US military code word for space-based weapons release. Even though this was specifically illegal under the Outer Space Treaty, it was a situation that the USAF had planned for and trained against for over fifty years.
“Issue a FLASH warning to all commands. The CONUS is under attack from space-based weapons systems, DROP KICK high confidence. Possible nuclear attack under way. Raise alert status to DEFCON 1.”
“Yes, sir.” Alarms started blaring all over the complex, deeply buried under Cheyenne mountain. A relic of the cold war, the facility was partially shut down, with only a skeleton crew normally on duty. Despite the stand-down order from the Pentagon, Northern Command had decided to maintain a standby watch out of prudence. Wilkes could hear the alarms ringing as the massive vault door closed, sealing the facility off from the outside world. “Sir, additional separations across multiple satellites. We have at least twenty events; tracking over four hundred inbounds. Tracks are firming up, confirming targeted on CONUS. Impact in twenty mikes. Nuclear threat-level medium confidence.”
Twenty minutes to try and defend the USA against a nuclear attack? The threat assessment of “medium” meant that the US military really didn’t know if the incoming weapons were nuclear or not, but presumably the president would have to assume they were. The ballistic missile defense system deployed in Alaska was in the wrong place—it was designed to intercept ICBMs coming over the pole from Russia, not an attack from satellites orbiting over the continental USA. During the cold war, the US military’s strategic weapons were at a very high state of alert. At one point, B-52s were in the air 24/7, ready for just such an attack. Today, the ICBMs buried in their silos in the Midwest and the SLBMs of the Navy were on “standby” but their ability to strike targets in China was unknown.
“General, the video call with the president is starting.”
Standard practice in the case of a suspected nuclear attack or almost any serious emergency threatening the USA, a video call was established between the president and the military leadership including the secretary of defense and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Even though Wilkes was a general, he wasn’t at the exalted level to participate in a call like that. What he did get was a summary of the call and orders handed down. He also was privy to orders given to other commands, such as STRATCOM, the overall command responsible for nuclear weapons within the US military.
FROM: POTUS
TO: USSTRATCOM
NUCLEAR WEAPONS RELEASE IS HEREBY AUTHORIZED AS PER WAR PLAN SIGMA. COMMENCE STRATEGIC NUCLEAR ENGAGEMENT AGAINST PLANNED TARGETS AS PER SIGMA. WEAPONS POSITIVE RELEASE VIA NC3.
NCA ENDS
Wilkes dropped down into his chair. He never expected to be involved in WWIII, let alone be sitting in one of the few places in the USA designed to survive a nuclear attack.
Get yourself together mister, nuclear attack or not, there is a job to do. Wilkes reached out and punched the button to start a video call with his boss, the commander of Northern Command. “Sir, are you going to move your command here?”
“Negative, Wilkes, no time.” He turned to speak to someone just off camera. “DOUBLE CHECK THAT.” He turned back to Wilkes. “We are losing SATCOMs again. Looks like a coordinated attack. I am going to execute Ardent Resolve now. Good luck, Barry.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Ardent Resolve was one of the plans maintained in case of an attack on the United States. It assumed a surprise attack like this one and called for military units to muster to designated points and prepare for an invasion. At this point, they really didn’t know anything beyond the ongoing space-based attack, but it made sense to assume that there would be some sort of follow on.
Hanging up the connection with his boss, Wilkes had a moment of sheer terror. What was about to happen was not something anyone could face calmly. After a few seconds, his brain clicked in, tamping down emotion, focusing on the tasks at hand. His time as a fighter pilot over the Pacific had shown him that he could work through the fear. It was still there, just compartmentalized into a back corner of his brain. He would pay for this later, but for now, he could still function, which was all that mattered.
