“How many people would have access to these codes?”
“It is usually about two dozen people per satellite, with a core of five or six for most satellites. The others vary with the sponsoring agency and the mission of the satellite.”
“These five or six core people, would they have access to all of those codes of the individual satellites?”
“Yes, sir. These involve the programmers themselves, the software designers and engineers who write the programs and build the appropriate interfacing hardware and controlling devices. I don’t think, Mr. President, that any of these people would in any way have anything to do with malfunction.”
“Ed, I want you and Fred to work very closely on this one. As soon as we are finished, I want an extremely thorough but behind the scenes investigation of those core people. No exceptions. If you don’t turn up anything, expand your investigation to the others. Don’t sacrifice thoroughness and accuracy for speed. For our good doctors here today, you must understand that your vows of secrecy extend to everything you see and do here. When you walk out that door, this meeting never happened. I want to make that very clear to you. I don’t care if anyone or all of the others is your mother, brother, wife, sister or lover. The consequences of a single slip could be personally and nationally very catastrophic.”
No one said a word. Never before had Jason Thornton unleashed such a naked threat. “Please continue, Dr. Corning.”
Stammering, “Well, Mr. President, those are the three most likely explanations of what occurred. We can’t be sure which of the three, or if something we haven’t considered, has occurred, without physically examining the satellites to see what physical damage they experienced.”
“Ed, can we recover one or several of these repositioned satellites for examination? Can we get them down with a shuttle flight, or maybe even examine and repair them in orbit?”
“I’ll pass that one off to Dr. Hatcher, Mr. President. He has current knowledge of our launch schedule and capabilities. Dr. Hatcher.”
“If we push it, carefully, we can have a shuttle launch with a recovery mission in about a couple of weeks, Mr. President.”
“Do we bring them down or examine them up there?”
“If we have capable members on board the shuttle, I am not aware of why initial examination couldn’t occur while in orbit. If it is fried, we can always bring it down. If it is a scrambled code, it would require reprogramming. That, in turn, requires a super huge computer that really won’t make it on the flight.”
“Dr. Corning, can the completely new software be built or programmed down here, and simply switched out with the old code up there?”
“There is no reason why that wouldn’t work, Mr. President.” Corning thought to himself, The President is sharper than I ever thought.
“How many people would have to know about the new codes to have it done in ten days? I presume that Dr. Foster would be one of them?”
“She is absolutely critical to it, Mr. President. It would require those core six and perhaps one or two of the second tier programmers. The problem would come in testing it. That would take as long as or longer than building it.”
“Joint Chiefs, for war fighting, which satellites are the most critical?”
“Mr. President, that is best answered by the Commander, Space Command, one of General Shelton’s major subordinate commanders, General Whitfield. He isn’t here right now,” said General Craig.
“General Shelton, get on your secure phone right now and put that to your subordinate commander. I want an answer in fifteen minutes. When you reach him, put him on the speaker phone here.”
General Shelton picked up his red phone and started punching buttons.
“Doctors, I have bad news for you. The three of you are working for Ed McCluskey, as of this minute. You are going to run this mission and you three alone. You will write, create the program, new software, and build new hardware, whatever it takes. You will do it, I am sure. Ed, coordinate with General Shelton and his people. No one outside this room is to know who these three are and what they are up to. They have maximum use of any and all resources they need, across all agency lines.”
General Shelton came back into the conversation. “I have General Whitfield, Commander, Space Command, on the speaker, Mr. President. Go ahead, General Whitfield.”
“We have identified two critical satellites, Mr. President. One will intercept electronic emissions in a wide spectrum. The second will be live television, infra-red and several other areas of the electromagnetic spectrum. We call them Big Eye and Little Ear.”
“Thank you, General Whitfield. General Shelton will fill you in with details before the day is out. Chiefs, Secretaries, Directors, anybody have anything to say?”
The answer, “No, Mr. President” was virtually in unison.
“Well, then, let’s get to it. I hope you all enjoyed breakfast.”
Chapter 20
The missile launch was not detected by any of the now scrambled satellites over the South China Sea. It was initially recognized in the Tactical Operations Center aboard the USS Ronald Reagan when it reached twenty-five miles into the atmosphere. The twenty-year-old sailor on her first cruise screamed “missile incoming” in panic the second it appeared on her radar screen. The Lieutenant Commander on the watch dashed to her workstation. The computer, calculating the launch site by tracing the trajectory, determined it to be launched from the Yellow Sea. The trajectory took it directly over the carrier battle group, fifty miles into the atmosphere. There, the nuclear warhead, tailored to maximize the electromagnetic pulse, exploded.
Electronic and communications gear throughout the carrier battle group popped, fizzled, and went blank. Ship to ship communications died. Every computer operating in the carrier battle group was fried. The lieutenant commander picked up the intercom phone to the bridge. “Admiral, every piece of electronic communications gear, radar, sonar, are all down. Everything that was operating went blank at once. The entire Navy Marine Corps Intranet is down over the Yellow Sea, the South China Sea and extending into the Arabian Sea. That blast was tailored to provide the maximum electromagnetic pulse.”
The blast and heat were felt by those on deck as a flash of sudden bright light and a blast of strong wind a minute later. All those on deck looked around to determine what it was and its source. Those operating tractors for towing aircraft and munitions suddenly found their engines would not start. Others, observing nothing unusual, returned to their tasks at hand with considerable apprehension. A few guessed it was a far off atomic blast.
Aircrews of aircraft providing air cover for the carrier battle group suddenly found they could not communicate with their carrier or each other, or anybody else. The section leader mentioned to his wingman by hand signal to return to the carrier. The two F-18 Super Hornets did a fly-by and waggled their wings as a signal for the intent to land. The Captain ordered the ship turned into the wind in order to affect their recovery. The Carrier battle group commander, Rear Admiral Mel Johnston, ordered the Carrier Air Group Commander, the ship’s Captain and the Executive Officer to meet in the TOC.
“What the hell happened, Commander?” asked the Admiral.
“We picked up a missile launch from the Yellow Sea. It had a heading directly for us only fifty miles high. It fried all of our electronics. Every computer on this ship that wasn’t heavily shielded is probably fried. It was the equivalent of sending one hundred thousand volts through the computer chips. Their circuits are melted together. We can’t communicate outside this ship by electronic means. I have asked all sections to report weapons status. What I am getting is that all of our radar-controlled weapons systems are down, as is our sonar.”
“What of the computers that were not turned on? Are they fried as well?” asked the Admiral. “What is our level of redundancy?” A sudden ominous thought struck him. He turned to the Captain, “Double the watch, sound general quarters. This might be the opening move of an attack. It appears that this is a deliberate electronic attack on this battle group.”
The Captain asked, “I presume this also applies to the other ships in this command. Is there any way we can communicate with them?”
“Not electronically, Admiral. It is back to Morse Code by lights and signal flags.”
At that moment, the intercom interrupted the Admiral. Bridge to Tactical Operations Center. “We are receiving in Morse Code messages from other ships that they are experiencing massive electronic failures. They are asking are we under attack?”
The Admiral looked at the sailor and said, “Send this signal. Prepare as if we are.”
Turning back to his staff, the Admiral asked the Electronic Warfare Officer, (EWO), “How soon can we get some kind of notification to Pacific Command in Hawaii?”
