Red storm rising - By Tom Clancy Page 0,86

satellites were currently in orbit, plus nine electronic surveillance birds. That was his low-level "constellation." He didn't fear for his higher-flying navigation and communications satellites, but the twelve in low earth orbit, especially the KHs, were valuable and vulnerable. Two of them had Russian killersats in close proximity, and one of his birds was now approaching Soviet territory, with another only forty minutes behind. The third Key-Hole bird didn't have a satellite assigned yet, but the last pass over Leninsk showed another F-type booster being fueled on the pad.

"Take another look at the trailer," he ordered.

A technician made the requisite commands, and half a world away, the satellite fired its altitude control thrusters and pivoted in space to allow its cameras to search for the Russian killer satellite. It had held position fifty miles behind, and nine miles below the American satellite, but now was ... gone.

"They moved it. They moved it in the last half hour." He lifted the phone to tell CINC-NORAD that he was moving the satellite on his own authority. Too late. As the satellite turned again to point its cameras at the ground, a cylindrical mass covered a sizable percentage of the earth's face--there was a flash and the TV screen went blank. Just like that.

"Chris, you have those maneuver commands set up?"

"Yes, sir," the captain answered, still staring at the screen.

"Execute them right now!"

The captain called up the command sequence on his computer console and punched Enter. The colonel's phone rang as the satellites' onboard rocket motors made subtle changes in their orbital paths.

"Argus Control," the colonel answered.

"This is CINC-NORAD. What the hell happened?"

"That Russian killersat closed and detonated. We have no signal from the KH-11, sir. I must assume they have successfully negated the bird. I've just ordered the other two Key-Holes to make a hundred-foot-per-second delta-V. Tell Washington they waited too long, sir."

18

Polar Glory

KIEV, THE UKRAINE

It had been decided that all Soviet theater and front commanders would be briefed on developments in Germany. Alekseyev and his superior knew why: if anyone were to be relieved from his command, the new man would have to know the situation. They listened to the intelligence report with fascination. Neither of them had expected many of the Spetznaz attacks to fare well, but it seemed that some had been successful, especially those in the German ports. Then the operational intelligence brief got to the bridges on the Elbe.

"Why weren't we warned about this?" CINC-Southwest demanded.

"Comrade General," the Air Force officer responded. "Our information was that this Stealth aircraft was a prototype, not yet in regular service. Somehow the Americans have managed to construct a number of them, at least part of a squadron. They used it to eliminate our airborne radar coverage, thus paving the way for a massive penetration raid against our airfields and lines of supply, plus a well-planned air battle against our all-weather fighter aircraft. Their mission was successful, but not decisively so."

"Oh, and the commander of Air Forces West was arrested for successfully repelling it, eh?" Alekseyev snarled. "How many aircraft did we lose?"

"I am not authorized to reveal that, Comrade General."

"Can you tell us of the bridges, then!"

"Most of the bridges on the Elbe have been damaged to some extent or another, plus attacks on the bridging units stationed near them for tactical replacement."

"The fucking maniac--he had his bridging units right next to the primary targets!" Southwest looked up at the ceiling as though expecting an air attack right there in Kiev.

"That is where the roads are, Comrade General," the intelligence officer said quietly. Alekseyev waved him out of the room.

"Not a good start, Pasha." Already a general had been arrested. His replacement had not yet been named.

Alekseyev nodded agreement, then checked his watch. "The tanks will cross the border in thirty minutes, and we have a few surprises in store for them. Only half of their reinforcements are in place. They still have not achieved the psychological degree of preparedness that our men have. Our first blow will hurt them. If our friend in Berlin has made his deployments properly."

KEFLAVIK, ICELAND

"Perfect weather," First Lieutenant Mike Edwards pronounced, looking up from the chart just off the facsimile machine. "We have this strong cold front due in from Canada in twenty to twenty-four hours. That'll bring a lot of rain with it, maybe an inch worth, but for all of today we have clear skies--less than two-tenths high clouds--and no precip. Surface winds west to southwest at fifteen to twenty knots. And