Executive Intent

“We’re afraid of the worst here, sir,” Gerald Vista, the director of national intelligence, interjected. “ Quetta has been largely occupied by Taliban and al-Qaeda forces since 2009, and it’s only been a matter of time before they got their hands on a missile capable of carrying weapons of mass destruction. It could also be rogue elements of the military.”

“No other deployments?”

“Standard military deployments only, sir, mostly on the Afghan and Indian borders. No other rocket deployments or alerts.”

“This is not an exercise, correct?” the president asked.

“Correct, sir. If it’s a Pakistani exercise, they didn’t announce it to us.”

“Damn,” Gardner muttered. “Do we think India has detected these rockets?”

“No sign of any Indian responses, sir,” Kelly answered.

“Let’s hope they don’t get spooked,” Gardner said. “Alert our embassies, consulates, and military units in Pakistan, India, and Afghanistan -wake them up, but don’t let them know what’s happening, yet, in case our alerts are intercepted. Get President Mazar on the phone.” Within the next few minutes, the vice president, Kenneth Phoenix, and the president’s secretary of defense, Miller Turner, hurried into the Situation Room, followed shortly thereafter by the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Taylor J. Bain, and the White House chief of staff, Walter Kordus, and they were quickly brought up to speed. “Well?” the president thundered over his shoulder to no one in particular. “Where’s Mazar?”

“An aide told us that Mazar is aware of the developments in Balochistan and he is busy getting it under control,” a communications officer said.

“Shit,” the president murmured. “He’s either lying and doesn’t know, or he knows but can’t do anything about it. What are those rockets?”

“Shaheen-2 is an intermediate-range ballistic missile, sir,” Admiral Kelly said. “It could have a conventional or nonconventional warhead-they’ve even tested a model with multiple reentry warheads.”

“‘Nonconventional warhead’?”

“ Pakistan does have weaponized chemical and biological warheads for their tactical missiles, and they are known to have as many as two hundred and forty nuclear warheads, ranging from one-to two-hundred-kiloton yields.”

“Shit. What range?”

“They can easily reach New Delhi, sir,” Kelly said. “Solid-propellant motors, so once in launch position and aligned, they could fire at any time. India has an array of Russian air defense systems, but no true antiballistic-missile weapons to our knowledge.”

“Christ. What do we have out there? Where are the carriers?”

“The Stennis battle group is in the Arabian Sea right now,” Carlyle said, referring to his notes. “There is a guided-missile cruiser, the Decatur, making a port call in Karachi. It has the SM-3 antiballistic-missile system aboard.”

“Excellent,” Gardner said. But he looked at the electronic chart and frowned. “Can those SM-3s fly that far if the Shaheens are launched toward New Delhi?” He looked at Admiral Kelly and instantly knew that he had thought the same question and had come up with a bad result. “Dammit. Contact the Decatur and tell them to give it a try anyway. Maybe they’ll get lucky.”

“Mr. President,” Vice President Phoenix said, “I recommend authorizing Armstrong to respond if the rockets launch.”

President Gardner looked confused. “Authorize who?”

“Armstrong Space Station, sir,” Phoenix said. He pointed at the electronic laser-generated chart. “Most of this video and intel is coming from the space station’s satellite networks-they have almost constant watch over almost every part of the globe. They were the ones who initiated the alert.” He touched controls on the edge of the table, and the image zoomed in to the Pakistani rockets themselves. Touching the screen, he turned the image until they were looking at the rockets as if hovering just over them on a helicopter. “Look at the detail-you can see the wheels on those transporter-erector-launchers.” The fine detail disappeared, but only for a few moments. “The image changes when one satellite goes out of sight until another one comes in again.” He returned the image to the area around the launch site. “Armstrong controls a network of space-based antiballistic-missile interceptors. I recommend authorizing a shoot-down.”

“Space-based ABMs? I thought they were just experimental.”

“I understand they are not fully operational, but they might have enough ready to do the job.”

The president frowned at Phoenix, surprised and a little annoyed that he knew so much about the space station. He turned to General Bain. “I want to talk with someone on that space station, now.”

“Yes, sir.” Bain picked up a telephone. “Get me Armstrong Space Station.” A few moments later, Bain pressed the speakerphone button on the phone: “General Raydon, this is General Bain in the Situation Room. Report.”