The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

'Hoskins.'
'Dan Murray, Walt. Get some people down there fast as you can. You stay put to
coordinate.'
'Okay.'
Hoskins gave the proper orders, wondering just how badly he might be endangering
his people. Then, with nothing else to do, he looked over the file on his desk.
Marvin Russell, he thought, yet another criminal who died of dumb. Drug dealers.
Didn't they ever learn?
***
Roger Durling was grateful when the Kneecap aircraft disengaged from the tanker.
The converted 747 had the usual pussycat ride, but not when in close proximity
to a KC-10 tanker. It was something only his son enjoyed. Aboard in the
conference room were an Air Force brigadier, a Navy captain, a Marine major, and
four other field- and staff-grade officers. All the data the President got came
to Kneecap automatically, including the Hot Line transcripts.
'You know, what they're saying is okay, but it sure as hell would be nice to
know what everyone's thinking.'
'What if this really is a Russian attack?' the General asked.
'Why would they do it?'
'You've heard the chatter between the President and CIA, sir.'
'Yeah, but that Ryan guy's right,' Durling said. 'None of this makes any sense.'
'So, who ever said the world had to make sense? What about the contact in the
Med and Berlin?'
'Forward-deployed forces. We go on alert, and they go on alert, and they're
close to each other, and someone goofs. You know, like Gavrilio Prinzip shooting
the Archduke. An accident happens and then things just slide down the chute.'
'That's why we have the Hot Line, Mr Vice President.'
'True,' Durling conceded. 'And so far it seems to be working.'
***
They made the first fifty yards easily, but then it got harder, and soon it went
from hard to impossible. Callaghan had a total of fifty firefighters trying to
fight their way on, with a hundred more in support. On reflection, he had a
continuous water spray over every man and woman. If nothing else, he reasoned,
he would wash whatever fallout or dust or whatever the hell was out here off his
people and into the sewer drains – that which didn't freeze first, that is. The
men in front were coated with ice that made a translucent layer on their
turn-out coats.
The biggest problem was the cars. They'd been tossed about like toys, laying on
their sides or tops, leaking gasoline that collected into burning puddles that
were being supplied faster than they burned off. Callaghan ordered a truck in.
One at a time, his men ran cables to the frames of the wrecked cars, and the
truck dragged them clear but this was horribly time-consuming. It would take
forever to get in to the stadium. And there were people in there. He was sure of
it. There had to be. Callaghan just stood there, out of the water spray, guilty
that he was warmer than his people. He turned when he heard the roar of a large
diesel engine.
'Hello.' It was a man wearing the uniform of a U.S. Army colonel. The nametag on