“General, I’m almost done connecting up Starfire again,” Casey responded. “An hour, maybe less. If I stop, you may not have it ready in time.”
Kai thought about it for a moment; then: “All right, keep at it, Casey,” he said. “But I want you on oxygen now, and as soon as you’re done, I’m putting you in a space suit.”
“I can’t work with the oxygen mask on, sir,” Casey insisted. “When I’m done I’ll get suited up.”
Kai knew this was not good, but he really did want Starfire activated again. “Okay, Casey,” he said. “As fast as you can.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s our next duck blind?” Kai asked.
“Chinese S-500S site on Hainan Island,” Christine Rayhill announced. “In range of Kingfisher-Two in five minutes. Yelizovo Air Base, MiG-31D base, an S-500S site at Yelizovo, and an S-500S site at Petropavlovsk-Kamchatskiy Naval Base will be in range shortly thereafter, also for Kingfisher-Two.”
“One Trinity against each of the S-500s and one against the air base, Valerie,” Kai said.
“Yes, sir,” Valerie said. “Combat, designate ground targets for—”
“Command, Surveillance, first Elektron spaceplane Poppa-One looks like it’s altering course,” Christine said. “It’s accelerating . . . looks like a transfer-orbit maneuver, sir. Looks like it’ll be the opposite direction from ours and offset slightly—can’t tell the altitude yet. I expect Poppa-Two to accelerate into a transfer orbit in a few minutes. Elektron spaceplane Poppa-Three should jump in fifteen minutes. Can’t tell yet on Four and Five.”
“Boomer, do you have enough fuel to transfer to the ISS, dock, then return to us?” Kai asked.
“Stand by. I’ll check,” Boomer replied. A moment later: “Yes, General, I do, but not enough to reenter afterward without refueling. How much fuel and oxidizer is still on station?”
Trevor checked his readouts. “Twenty thousand pounds of JP-8 and ten thousand of ‘bomb.’?”
“Should be enough, unless I have to do a lot of maneuvering,” Boomer said. “I’d feel better if we could get a resupply mission up—”
“Missile launch detected reported by SBIRS, sir!” Christine shouted on intercom. SBIRS, or the Space-Based Infrared Surveillance, was the U.S. Air Force’s newest infrared satellite system, capable of detecting and tracking missiles and even aircraft by their hot engine or motor exhausts. “Pop-up targets from over Novosibirsk. Two . . . three launches, definitely on an intercept course, not going ballistic. Intercept in six minutes!”
“Looks like they moved some MiG-31s to central Russia,” Trevor said.
“Designate targets Poppa-Six, -Seven, and -Eight, Combat,” Valerie said.
“We’ve been swept by target-tracking radar . . . switching to missile-guidance radar . . . missile launch, S-500S . . . salvo of four interceptors, seven minutes to intercept!” Christine reported. “Missiles tracking . . . another salvo of four, second launcher, looks like a . . . third salvo of S-500s lifting off, looks like a ring of S-500 launchers around Novosibirsk! I count . . . a fourth salvo, sixteen S-500s inbound from Novosibirsk! That’s nineteen interceptors inbound, crew!”
“That’s more than we ever did exercises against,” Trevor said.
“Status of our defensive weapons, Valerie,” Kai asked.
“All in the green, sir,” Valerie replied. “Sixteen Kingfisher engagements on the keel plus approximately thirty Hydra shots.”
“What’s our altitude, Trev?”
“Two hundred and fifty-seven,” Trevor replied. “Maximum slant range of an S-500S is supposed to be five hundred miles. We’re going to be close.”
“Four minutes on the Wasp interceptors,” Christine said.
“Batteries released on all weapons, Valerie,” Kai said.
“Roger, sir, batteries released, Combat, clear to engage.”
“Roger, clear to—”
“Decoys!” Henry Lathrop shouted. “Warheads on the S-500 missiles splitting into two—no, three, three apiece!”
“Can you discriminate among them, Henry?”
“Not yet—too far away still,” Henry said. “When they get within three hundred miles I’ll get ’em with the infrared sensor first to see if there’s a temperature difference, then with the optronic sensor to see if there’s a visual.”
“Three minutes on the Wasps.”