The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

device.'
'I'd have to concur in that,' CINC- SAC said. 'An IND an improvised nuclear
device, that is, what we'd expect from unsophisticated terrorists – should not
be much more than twenty-KT. This sounds like a multi-stage weapon.'
'Multi-stage?' Elliot said towards the speaker.
'A thermonuclear device,' General Borstein replied. 'An H-Bomb.'
***
'Ryan here, who's this?'
'Major Fox, sir, at NORAD. We have an initial feel for yield and casualties,'
the major read off the bomb numbers.
'Too big for a terrorist weapon,' said an officer from the Directorate of
Science and Technology.
'That's what we think, sir.'
'Casualties?' Ryan asked.
'Probable prompt-kill number is two hundred thousand or so. That includes the
people at the stadium.'
I have to wake up, Ryan told himself, his eyes screwed tightly shut. This has to
be a fucking nightmare, and I'm going to wake up from it. But he opened his
eyes, and nothing had changed at all.
***
Robby Jackson was sitting in the cabin of the carrier's skipper, Captain Ernie
Richards. They had been half-listening to the game, but mainly discussing
tactics for an upcoming wargame. The Theodore Roosevelt battlegroup would
approach Israel from the west, simulating an attacking enemy. The enemy in this
case was the Russians. It seemed highly unlikely, of course, but you had to set
some rules for the game. The Russians, in this case, were going to be clever.
The battlegroup would be broken up to resemble a loose assembly of merchant
ships instead of a tactical formation. The first attack wave would be fighters
and attack-bombers squawking 'international' on their IFF boxes, and would try
to approach Ben Gurion International Airport in the guise of peaceful airliners,
the better to get inside Israeli airspace unannounced. Jackson's operations
people had already purloined airliner schedules and were examining the time
factors, the better to make their first attack seem as plausible as possible.
The odds against them were long. It was not expected that TR could do much more
than annoy the IAF and the new USAF contingent. But Jackson liked long odds.
'Turn up the radio, Rob. I forgot what the score is.'
Jackson leaned across the table and turned the dial, but got music. The carrier
had her own on-board TV system, and was also radio-tuned to the U.S. Armed
Forces network. 'Maybe the antenna broke,' the Air Wing Commander observed.
Richards laughed. 'At a time like this? I could have a mutiny aboard.'
'That would look good on the old fit-rep, wouldn't it?'
Someone knocked at the door. 'Come!' Richards said. It was a yeoman.
'Flash-traffic, sir.' The petty officer handed the clipboard over.
'Anything important?' Robby asked.
Richards just handed the message over. Then he lifted the growler phone and
punched up the bridge. 'General quarters.'
'What the hell?' Jackson murmured. DEFCON-THREE – why, for Christ's sake?'