Legacy (46 page)

As the F-14 began its rollout from the makeshift cloth hangar, the full Moon struck him as a brilliant reminder of the old days of flying patrol under the Shah. The pilot could feel the weight of the two weapons as they hung from the innermost hard-line points just off the hydraulically controlled wings. The rest of the F-14 had been stripped of anything that would hinder his flight into Kazakhstan. Even the oxygen system had been cut down by 90 percent, and there was no defensive weaponry in the venerable old naval aircraft—even the twenty-millimeter cannon had been removed. In fact, the weight of the two ASATs was double the normal flight load of the Tomcat and there was still some doubt as to whether the aircraft could even gain the altitude needed for launch. The new seeker heads installed by the Iranian military would detect the low-orbiting targets, but it still remained to be seen if the Tomcat could get to the launch point at 65,000 feet. The Tomcat was not designed for the ASM-135 ASAT. It was always launched from the F-15 Eagle and the change had been designed by the best Iranian aerospace people they had.

The Tomcat reached the apron of the hard, earthen-packed runway and was waiting for the go from the radar station thirty-five miles away. The station was monitoring the path of the American shuttles
Endeavour
and
Discovery
as they readied to cross over Russian territory on their way to the rendezvous with the International Space Station.

The secret partner of the ayatollah had been working diligently on the plan for the past ten years and the Reverend had come through by supplying the necessary equipment to the one man who could help bring not only America to its knees but the rest of the world’s powers as well. It wasn’t this man who was in partnership with Iran; it was his apprentice. After the assault on the shuttles, when no one would be capable of getting the mineral or technology from the surface of the Moon, Iran would take control of the one source left in the universe: the mines in Ecuador.

The Tomcat received the vectoring, precise coordinates, and altitude for the launch of the American-built ASATs, then the pilot was given clearance for takeoff. The most complicated interception in history was about to be attempted and, with luck, God’s wrath against the Americans would be complete.

The Tomcat’s aging GE turbofans lit off at full afterburner as the old airframe tore down the dirt strip. The lumbering fighter held firmly to the ground as the weight of the two ASATs clung to her underbelly. Finally, when it looked as though the pilot would slam Iran’s hopes and dreams into the side of the mountain pass, the ground crew watched the tires lift free of the Earth.

*   *   *

The F-14 flew low over the Caspian Sea. As the pilot executed a northerly turn, the red light on his nav-board flashed bright red. The signal was given for the intercept of
Discovery
first and then
Endeavour
.

The pilot said a silent prayer and pushed the throttle to full afterburner, pulling the stick straight back into his stomach. The old fighter fought gravity with all his strength as the Tomcat scratched its way into the dark skies over Kazakhstan.

Normally, the missiles could have been launched at 37,000 feet for any low orbit target such as a communications satellite, but since the shuttles were flying at a higher orbit, they would have to be launched at an incredible 65,000 feet.

The pilot was feeling the effects of the g-forces as the jet fought for its target altitude. The airframe, after so many years of neglect, started shaking and the pilot knew then that it was going to be sorely taxed. As he fought through the 42,000-foot mark, his threat detector announced that he would soon have company. Four MiG 31s were in high-speed pursuit of the venerable Tomcat.

The pilot watched his altimeter roll through its paces. A green warning light flashed as he passed through the 60,000-foot range. He calmly moved his thumb over the selector switch just as the electronic tone in his headphones started making a warbling sound, indicating that his fighter was being painted by enemy radar. Then the tone changed as the MiGs gained weapons lock on the Tomcat. A second later they launched their air-to-air missiles.

The Iranian pilot knew the Russian attack would come too late to stop the launch. He switched the selector over to missiles and the tracking radar in the Tomcat’s nose sprang to life with targeting data relayed from the Iranian ground stations. The ayatollah’s scientists had successfully intercepted NASA’s downrange telemetry signal, which emanated from their radar stations in Kuwait. This gave the seeker heads in the ASATs a perfect vector for the attack. As the pilot watched the relayed information from the ground station, he saw the first blip of the American target aircraft, the
Discovery
. As he reached altitude, the first ASM-135 ASAT was launched automatically. The loss of weight made the F-14 slide to one side as the ASAT left the rail along the right side of the fuselage. Then, a second later, the second ASM-135 ASAT left its rail, its engine flaring to life as the first stage lit off, nearly blinding the Iranian pilot.

As the two ASATs sped on their way, the F-14 turned to meet the oncoming threat of the Russian MiGs and the six missiles heading toward him. Instead of zigzagging to make his fighter hard to detect on the seeker heads of the missiles, the pilot closed his eyes and flew straight on, the g-forces of the dive shaking the overtaxed airframe of the old Grumman. He felt as well as heard a loud snap as one of the streamlined wings lost a restraining bolt along the right fuselage. The pilot smiled as he realized the jet was starting to come apart. The dive was so steep and he was traveling so fast that the g-forces were tearing the aluminum away from the structure. The forces were giving the old pilot tunnel vision as his brain was denied life-giving blood.

The pilot didn’t think about his martyrdom. He thought of the family that would now have everything they needed to survive in today’s Iran, a land he no longer knew. Then, at that precise moment, the first of six air-to-air missiles detonated in the falling Tomcat’s path, sending shrapnel out to meet the disintegrating jet.

A few moments later, the only things left in the sky were orbiting Russian fighters and the falling remains of the F-14.

SST SHUTTLE
DISCOVERY
, 240 MILES ABOVE THE EARTH

Discovery
was leading the way, followed three hundred miles behind by
Endeavour
. The two shuttles had just opened their cargo doors to cool the interior bay from the massive heat buildup caused by the launch. The crew was starting to settle into the routine of space flight. The mission commander was in the process of explaining to the military personnel how they would proceed once they met up with the International Space Station. He was assuring them that all they needed do was check their small amount of weaponry and stand by for the ride of their lives.

“
Discovery
, Houston, stand by for an emergency OHM burn. Get your people strapped in for evasive maneuvers.”

The shuttle pilot didn’t stop to ask why. He practically flew to the pilot’s side of the spacecraft and prepared to fire his maneuvering jets. He just needed to know which ones and where he would be going.

“
Discovery
, this is Houston. You have an attack heading your way. We believe it to be an ASAT of unknown origin. We are now waiting for the exact targeting data before we move you out of the way. Do you copy,
Discovery
?”

“Everyone strap in, get the cargo doors closed, and prepare for maneuvering.”

JOHNSON SPACE CENTER, HOUSTON, TEXAS

Hugh Evans stood and shouted, knowing at the same moment that no matter what they did, the shuttles would be successfully targeted.

“Get them out of the way!”

With the technicians watching the merging of two ASATs and the two shuttles, they all felt helpless as the ASATs’ first stages separated.

“Flight, we have a direct feed of long-range enhanced photog from the ISS.”

“Put it on!” Evans said loudly.

As the main view screen on the control room floor switched views, everyone immediately picked out the
Discovery
as she flew in what looked like an upside-down attitude over the blue world below. They also saw the streaking second stage of the first ASM-135 ASAT as it merged with the shuttle. They watched in horror as the warhead struck the cabin between the crew area and the cargo bay. The impact sheared the cabin free of the rest of the shuttle and then they watched as the cabin came apart, sending pieces of composite material and humanity out into space. The harshness of the hit sent electrical currents through to the OHM’s maneuvering jets and fuel line. They all erupted at the same moment. The silence of the detonation took every man and woman by surprise, the shock of what they were seeing quickly becoming overwhelming. The explosion became a burst of silent energy as it expanded outward.

“ISS, this is Houston Flight. Give us the track of
Endeavour!
” he said more loudly than he intended.

As the camera shifted to the International Space Station, they saw the second explosion enveloping
Endeavour.
This time the ASAT struck the aft OHM’s jets and the fuel tanks housed there. The crew cabin and the newly designed pod for the cargo bay were gone. The wings of
Endeavour
were separated from the shuttle’s main body and were floating free of the debris field.

Hugh Evans sat hard into his chair. He had just witnessed the death of two space shuttles and their crews. The twenty men and women of Dark Star were gone in a flash of energy that would haunt everyone who witnessed the tragedy for the remainder of their lives.

Many technicians were still doing their jobs as they tried to trace the attack from its origins. Evans knew he had to get things as far back on track as he could.

“CAPCOM, do we have anything?”

The astronaut manning the crew communications systems tried to raise anyone from the two shuttles. He knew it was official procedure, but he had a hard time swallowing as he tried to get the words out.

“
Discovery, Endeavour
, this is Houston. Do you copy, over,” he said as he kept his head low. “
Discovery, Endeavour
, this is Houston. Do you copy, over. Any Dark Star element, do you copy?”

Hugh Evans turned away and looked at the monitor on the far left. The giant Atlas stood poised on the pad as fuel started to flow into her tanks. Evans knew he had to make the call that could possibly send more men and women to their deaths.

“Ground, get the Cape on the horn and advise Kennedy to start the prelaunch countdown for
Dark Star 3
. We are now a go!”

QUITO, ECUADOR

Major Krell and Collins had secured the uniforms with the forged documents, even managing to send the bill to the president of Ecuador.

Sebastian had learned one thing about black operations from Collins—make a plan, and then stick to it until that plan ceases to be effective. He wasn’t surprised when Jack lowered the blue saucer cap as low onto his brow as he could and stepped right into the arms of the largest police force on the Pacific coast of South America. What was amazing to Major Krell was that Jack never hesitated a moment. Sebastian had no choice but to admire the man and follow him in.

The station was crowded and that was to their advantage. The entrance was full of policemen going on duty, and those coming off. The two officers wore an insignia on their collars that announced they were from the second police barracks south of the city, so their being unfamiliar to most should cause little trouble—they hoped.

Jack immediately spied the stairs. The two men had to assume that Europa’s falsified orders from the prosecutor’s office had gone through as planned. If not, they would be caught waiting just outside a room where several dozen off-duty officers would soon be naked, taking their after-shift showers. That might be a little hard to explain.

As Collins gained the fifth-floor landing he paused at the door. He could hear the sound of men talking, laughing, and fooling around. He looked back at the German major and grimaced as he grabbed the door handle. He opened the door. He and Krell stepped into the hallway just opposite the shower room.

The double doors were propped wide open and Jack could see the entire row of lockers and behind them the showers. He nodded to signal to Sebastian that he should take the right side of the door while Jack took the left. As they moved into place a group of policemen came from what looked like a briefing room down the hall behind the German. They stopped in their tracks and all five seemed to be staring right at Collins and Krell. Jack tried to avoid eye contact with the men as they all continued to stare.

“Asesinos estadounidenses,”
one of the men said pointing.

Sebastian turned and was about to say something to the men when Jack reached out and took his arm. He turned him to face behind where Jack was standing. He had recognized the words the man had spoken—Murdering Americans.

The footsteps behind them made them both turn and that was when they saw Captain Carl Everett escorted by two men. He was handcuffed and, to the captain’s credit, he didn’t bat an eye when he saw Jack and Krell in the strange uniforms. He stepped past both Jack and Sebastian as he was led into the showers. The five policemen stopped talking and went on their way, even going as far as to nod their greeting to the American and the German.