Minuteman III Launch Control Facility
Outside Karlsruhe, North Dakota
Captain Tony Daugherty leaned forward in his chair, cycling through a test procedure he had done a hundred times before. Hell, maybe even a thousand times. America’s nuclear deterrent may be aimed at the world’s oceans now, but it still needed to be functional and ready to respond, in case its nation needed it. He wondered what it must have been like in the sixties, when so many were positive nuclear war was inevitable. The men in these silos, back then, carried a heavy burden, one not really carried by today’s crews.
Yes, they could be asked to unleash weapons that could kill millions with the turn of a key, but what was the likelihood of that actually happening today?
Miniscule.
He, like many of his fellow soldiers, were bored, demoralized, and increasing felt irrelevant in today’s military. Where once his assignment was sought after and coveted, now it was something most were “volunteered” for, himself included.
He, as they all did, had a healthy respect for the awesome responsibility they bore, though it was a responsibility that would never come. Like the boy told to man the church bell against predators, in a world where all predators had been wiped out.
“Hey, I forgot to tell you what happened to my dad!”
Daugherty spun in his chair. “What?”
“He won a car in one of those charity lotteries.”
His eyes widened. “Holy shit! That’s awesome. What kind?”
“A Jag convertible.”
Daugherty whistled. “Nice!”
“Yeah, you’d think so.”
His eyes narrowed. “Think?”
“Yeah, I guess he shocked the shit out of them when he asked for second prize instead.”
His head shook in disbelief. “What was second prize?”
“A new refrigerator.”
Daugherty’s chin dropped. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me your dad gave up a Jag for a refrigerator?”
“Yeah, he said he wanted something he could count on to actually run.”
Three ear-piercing wails erupted from the speakers and Daugherty’s heart leaped into his throat.
“Raven Claw this is Castle Rock with a Red dash Alpha message in two parts. Break. Break. Red dash Alpha. Red Dash Alpha.”
He straightened in his chair, his heart pounding as he exchanged an anxious glance with Fraser. “Stand by to authenticate.”
“Standing by.”
The transmission, its robotic quality intentional, emotion not of help in these situations, continued.
“Alpha-Romeo-Sierra-Romeo-Bravo-Echo-Bravo-Tango. Authentication Two-One-One-Two-Zero-Zero-Lima-Echo.”
Daugherty quickly wrote down the codes on the form reserved for this situation. “I have a valid message. Stand by to authenticate.”
“I agree with authentication, sir.”
He rose and opened his lockbox, as did Fraser. He removed the biscuit inside and snapped it open as he returned to his seat. Removing the card inside, he compared the code to the one he had written down.
Holy shit!
“Enter launch codes.”
“Entering launch codes.”
He carefully entered the sequence, Fraser’s fingers working his own terminal, both of them needed in this process, each step of the way. He watched his display and his eyes widened as the coded orders were confirmed.
“Launch order confirmed.” Daugherty spotted Fraser stealing a glance over his shoulder at him. “Eyes on your job, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir, sorry, sir. Target selection, complete. Time to target sequence, complete. Yield selection, complete.”
This is really happening!