Arctic Storm Rising by Dale Brown (readera ebook reader .TXT) 📗

this unprecedented level of military activity seems limited solely to Russia’s Air Force, surface-to-air missile regiments, and surveillance radars?” Taylor asked pointedly.

Admiral Chao nodded firmly. “That’s correct, Mr. Secretary.”

Taylor looked along the table toward Jonas Murphy, favoring him with a shrewd, amused smile. “Which brings us around to you,Jonas.”

“Me?” Murphy said, trying his best to sound surprised.

“Yes, you,” the older man said wryly. “Earlier today, your office transmitted a top secret alert to all of our U.S. Air Forceformations deployed in Turkey, Afghanistan, and Iraq, right? An alert that raised the possibility of a Russian aircraft makingan unauthorized transit through their areas of operation?”

Crap, Murphy thought, feeling suddenly cornered. “That’s true.”

“So why did you send out this highly unusual alert?” Taylor asked bluntly, not bothering to beat around the bush.

Left with no other choice, Murphy fell back on partial truth. “The CIA received intelligence from what appears to be a high-level Russian source. Intelligence which suggested the possible defection of a pilot flying one of their most advanced military aircraft sometime in the next twenty-four hours.”

“What type of aircraft?” Taylor pushed.

“Tupolev’s PAK-DA experimental stealth bomber prototype,” Murphy admitted.

That drew the reaction he’d expected. General Neary and the other Joint Chiefs of Staff seated at the table with him lookedstunned at first and then somewhat predatory. The prospect of getting a close, hard look at the technology that Moscow hadopenly boasted would rival and even exceed that of America’s own stealth bombers was irresistible.

“How reliable is the CIA’s intelligence on this?” Taylor asked directly.

Murphy shrugged. “That’s unknown, I’m afraid. We don’t have any history with their source . . . yet.”

“A defection attempt of that magnitude could certainly explain the frantic Russian air and radar activity we’re seeing now,”General Neary mused out loud, looking up at the wall screens. Then he turned back to Murphy. “But do you have any honest-to-Godconfirmation that such a defection is actually underway?”

The DNI glanced at the secure smartphone he’d laid faceup on the conference table in front of him. There were no new messagesfrom Miranda Reynolds, the head of the CIA’s clandestine operations service. He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Which means what you’ve been sold could be typical Russian disinformation,” Neary pointed out. “Part of a deliberate planto sow confusion and slow our response to the increase in military readiness we’re seeing right now.”

Murphy nodded uncomfortably. “That’s certainly possible.”

“Which leaves us with the question of how we’re going to respond to what we do know right now,” Taylor broke in. “Which is that the Russians are rapidly bringing their combat air units and ground-basedair defenses to wartime levels of readiness.” He looked along the table. “Suggestions?”

After a glance at his colleagues, Neary leaned forward. As the chief of staff for the Air Force, this was largely his bailiwick.“My recommendation to the president is that he immediately raise our own alert status to DEFCON Three, both here at home andabroad.” The other senior officers around the table nodded, signaling their agreement. DEFCON Three would put the entire U.S.military on full alert, with the Air Force ready to move at fifteen minutes’ notice. “And I also strongly recommend that hecontact our allies and urge them to take similar precautionary measures.”

Murphy interjected. “I concur, but with the caveat that we still urge caution by our air units operating near Russia’s southernfrontier. If a Russian pilot really is trying to defect, I’d rather that we weren’t the ones who shot him down.”

“Doing so carries risks of its own,” Neary warned. “Even a single aircraft conducting a surprise strike can inflict a hellof a lot of damage using modern weapons.”

Taylor considered that carefully. “That’s true, General,” he said after a few moments. “But Director Murphy has a good point,which I’ll pass on to the president.” The defense secretary spread his hands. “Anyway, if the Russians are preparing a seriousattack against us, they aren’t going to use just one plane—no matter how well it’s armed—” He broke off abruptly as new digitalmaps opened on the far wall. These depicted regions of northern and western China. More symbols appeared, thickly clusterednear the People’s Republic of China’s border with Russia.

“We’ve received new satellite and SIGINT data, sir,” Admiral Chao confirmed. “All major fighter and SAM units assigned to the PRC’s Western and Northern Theater Commands have just gone on high alert.”

“Seems like Beijing’s getting spooked by the Russians, too,” Taylor said somberly. He reached for one of the secure linksat his place. “It’s time I called the president.”

176th Air Defense Squadron, Alaska Air National Guard, Regional Air Operations Center, Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska

That Same Time

Staff Sergeant Peggy Baker sat up a little straighter in her swivel chair. She’d just caught a flash of movement on one ofthe multiple screens at her workstation. A small colored dot briefly appeared on the feed from the FPS-117 phased array radarat Barter Island. It faded out for a few seconds and then reappeared for another very short interval before disappearing completely.

For a moment, she was tempted to write off the blip as just a radar or weather anomaly. After all, seriously bad weather wasclosing in over the radar site and all of northern Alaska, complete with high winds and driving snow and ice storms. Thenagain, L-band radars weren’t affected by storms to the same degree as high-frequency equipment. So whatever that unidentifiedobject was, it could be something real. And from the size of the reflection, it was also very small, no larger than a good-sizedbird—but no bird in nature moved at that kind of speed, almost 450 knots. She picked up the phone to her supervisor. “Ma’am,”she told Lieutenant Colonel Carmen Reyes, “I may have picked up a bogey here. It could be nothing, but I think you shouldtake a look at the track.”

“On my way,” Reyes said crisply. She hung up and trotted down the short flight of steps from the observation deck to the main floor of the operations center. It took her less than thirty seconds to reach Baker’s station. “Okay, Peggy, show me