a possibility. The DCI says they might try using one or a very few tactical nukes as a demonstration against military bases, or possibly our launch facilities at Canaveral and Vandenberg. It is not likely, at this juncture, that they will resort to chemical or biological weapons.”
The president grimaced. “‘Not likely.’ But it’ll happen sooner or later, if I don’t back down.”
Gray found himself holding his breath. The UN ultimatum had been blunt and to the point. The United States was to disarm completely. Its military forces were to stand down, its aircraft to remain grounded, its bases open to UN inspection teams and occupation forces. A United Nations Special Governing Committee was to take charge of the Washington bureaucracy; elected officials would remain in power, but subject to UN directives. It was nothing less than a blueprint for complete and unconditional surrender.
And Admiral Gray was afraid that Markham was going to agree to it.
“What kind of a chance can you give us, Admiral?” Markham wanted to know. “Tell me you have a secret weapon or two squirreled away that I don’t know about.”
“Well, sir, we don’t have anything like that, but we can buy us some time. Operation Freedom is on track. Launch is scheduled for 0700 Pacific Time Tuesday. We’re in the process of nudging Shepard into a better orbit, so they can provide backup and fire support.”
“Operation Freedom. That’s the ISS mission?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how is that going to help us?”
Gray drew a deep breath. “It’s a symbol, Mr. President.” He nodded toward the screen, where the destruction of the US Capitol Building was being played out again. “Most of their strikes, so far, have been against high-visibility, newsworthy targets. Public buildings. State capitols. Things with propaganda value, that demonstrate that we can’t protect ourselves from this kind of attack.”
The White House had been badly damaged several hours ago. A near miss had damaged the Washington Monument, too, though it was still standing.
“Go on.”
“The International Space Station is also a symbol, Mr. President. A station that passes over our heads every ninety minutes or so and proves that we can’t protect our interests in space…an area where America historically held a strong lead over everyone else.”
“Hell, we were giving up on space,” Harrel pointed out. “At least until we found that alien shit on Mars.”
“That ‘alien shit,’ as Mr. Harrel calls it, may well be the key to this whole war,” Gray said. “It’s Ken Morrow’s contention that Mars is the main reason the UN jumped us. Not Aztlan. And not US unwillingness to go along with the UN’s agenda.”
“I know,” the president replied. “He’s been telling me that every day now for the past week.” He shook his head. “Tell me, gentlemen. Is anything we find on Mars worth that?” He gestured at Braun’s oversize face on the wall screen.
“We won’t know that, Mr. President, until our people have a chance to excavate the site a bit farther,” Harrel said. “But it does appear that the UN forces on Mars launched this adventure because they wanted to shut us down there.”
“Shut us down?” Gray said, thoughtful. “They could have done that as soon as their troops reached Mars, seven months ago. I think our people might have found something specific, something the UN didn’t want broadcast. Otherwise, why wait until now?”
“They might’ve just been waiting until they were ready,” Harrel suggested.
“Maybe, but the attack seemed rushed. As though it was being hurried along by events elsewhere. Mr. President, I think we have to assume that our most important battle right now is the one on Mars.”
Markham gave a wan smile. “The one we can’t do anything about.”
“Well, sir, we can start by getting the ISS back. If the Marines win on Mars, we need a working spaceport on this end to pick them up when they return. The ISS is also the center of Spacenet, which handles all communications off of Earth. We’ll need to secure that if we’re to have a hope of finding out what’s going on up there.”
“Hence, Operation Freedom,” the president mused. “The problem is, gentlemen, that even if we get the space station back, it’ll be months before our people on Mars can return on the cycler, right? In the meantime, what am I supposed to tell the American people? That we’re sitting through this bombardment so our people on Mars can dig up rusty alien spaceships?”
“That’s why we’re emphasizing the propaganda value of the ISS op, sir,” Gray said. “You could think of it like the Doolittle bombing raid against Japan, a century ago. It won’t hurt the enemy materially that much, but it sure as hell will hurt his pride.”
“Mmm. That sort of gesture can only sustain us so far. We’ve got to hit the bastards back here on Earth, hit ’em hard, or else throw a big enough scare into them that they back off and leave us alone.”
“The Tenth Infantry Division has deployed from Fort Drum,” Gray pointed out, “and has been engaging the Quebeckers outside Plattsburgh Aerospace Force Base. We stand a good chance of winning that one, especially since the 380th Bomb Wing out of Plattsburgh has started hammering Montreal. We’re also holding the Mexicans and the Colombians at San Diego. Our reserves and the National Guard are almost at full mobilization. Once the enemy attacks run out of steam, we should be able to go over to the offensive, both in Quebec and in northern Mexico. We’ll also be able to start coordinating things with our allies. The Russians seem to be doing okay against the Manchurians. England is taking heavy cruise missile attacks from across the Channel, but they’re holding. We actually stand a very good chance of holding them at our borders, and once—”
“That’s just the problem, Admiral,” Markham interrupted. “We’ve got to do more than just hold them. We’ve got to hit back. Hard. Before they decide to escalate to something nastier.”
“It’s possible, Mr. President,” Harrel said softly, “that our hitting back harder would precipitate an escalation.”
“I know. So the secretary of state told me.” The president paused. “John Matloff offered me his resignation this morning. Did you know?”
“No, sir,” Gray and Harrel said, almost in unison. Gray was surprised. Matloff hadn’t struck him as the sort to make dramatic gestures, especially where his career was concerned.
“I refused it,” Markham said. “Told him I wasn’t going to let him start a stampede. The government has to be together on this. Present a united front. For the people. And for the rest of the world. Am I right?”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Again, they spoke almost as one.
“I’ve authorized Operation Freedom, Admiral Gray. I’m not sure how much help it’s going to be to us in the short term, but it’s a good long-term gamble, and you’re right about it being a symbol. We win a victory up there, in orbit, and we’re letting the world know we still have the high-tech know-how to command space. But…” He stopped suddenly, one finger raised for emphasis. “But. If Operation Freedom doesn’t come off as advertised, we are going to be in an extraordinarily vulnerable position. The people will see us throwing away lives and equipment in space when enemy forces
