The Bear and the Dragon - Tom Clancy [519]
"He stayed, sir. He had the pilot drop him on the cruiser in the Navy Yard."
"He did what?"
"You heard me, sir."
"Get him on the radio—right now!" Jackson ordered.
Ryan was actually feeling somewhat relaxed. No more rushing about, here he was, surrounded by people calmly and quietly going about their jobs-outwardly so, anyway. The captain looked a little tense, but captains were supposed to, Ryan figured, being responsible in this case for a billion dollars' worth of warship and computers.
"Okay, how are we doing?"
"Sir, the inbound, if it's aimed at us, is not on the scope yet."
"Can you shoot it down?"
"That's the idea, Mr. President," Blandy replied. "Is Dr. Gregory around?"
"Here, Captain," a voice answered. A shape came closer. "Jesus!"
"That's not my name—I know you!" Ryan said in considerable surprise "Major—Major … "
"Gregory, sir. I ended up a half a colonel before I pulled the plug. SDIO. Secretary Bretano had me look into upgrading the missiles for the Aegis system," the physicist explained. "I guess we're going to see if it works or not."
"What do you think?" Ryan asked.
"It worked fine on the simulations" was the best answer available.
"Radar contact. We got us a bogie," a petty officer said. "Bearing three-four-niner, range nine hundred miles, speed—that's the one, sir. Speed is one thousand four hundred knots—I mean fourteen thousand knots, sir." Damn, he didn't have to add.
"Four and a half minutes out," Gregory said.
"Do the math in your head?" Ryan asked.
"Sir, I've been in the business since I got out of West Point."
Ryan finished his cigarette and looked around for—
"Here, sir." It was the friendly chief with an ashtray that had magically appeared in CIC. "Want another one?"
"Why not?" the President reasoned. He took a second one, and the senior chief lit it up for him. "Thanks."
"Gee, Captain Blandy, maybe you're declaring a blanket amnesty?"
"If he isn't, I am," Ryan said.
"Smoking lamp is lit, people," Senior Chief Leek announced, an odd satisfaction in his voice.
The captain looked around in annoyance, but dismissed it.
"Four minutes, it might not matter a whole lot," Ryan observed as coolly as the cigarette allowed. Health hazard or not, they had their uses.
"Captain, I have a radio call for the President, sir."
"Where do I take it?" Jack asked.
"Right here, sir," yet another chief said, lifting a phone-type receiver and pushing a button.
"Ryan."
"Jack, it's Robby."
"My family get off okay?"
"Yeah, Jack, they're fine. Hey, what the hell are you doing down there?"
"Riding it out. Robby, I can't run away, pal. I just can't."
"Jack if this thing goes off—"
"Then you get promoted," Ryan cut him off.
"You know what I'll have to do?" the Vice President demanded.
"Yeah, Robby, you'll have to play catch-up. God help you if you do." But it won't be my problem, Ryan thought. There was some consolation in that. Killing some guy with a gun was one thing. Killing a million with a nuke … no, he just couldn't do that without eating a gun afterward. You're just too Catholic, Jack, my boy.
"Jesus, Jack," his old friend said over the digital, encrypted radio link. Clearly thinking about what horrors he'd have to commit, son of a preacher-man or not …
"Robby, you're the best friend any man could hope to have. If this doesn't work out, look after Cathy and the kids for me, will ya?"
"You know it."
"We'll know in about three minutes, Rob. Get back to me then, okay?"
"Roger," the former Tomcat driver replied. "Out."
"Dr. Gregory, what can you tell me?"
"Sir, the inbound is probably their equivalent of one of our old W-51s. Five megatons, thereabouts. It'll do Washington, and everything within ten miles—hell, it'll break windows in Baltimore."
"What about us, here?"
"No chance. Figure it'll be targeted inside a triangle defined by the White House, the Capitol Building, and the Pentagon. The ship's keel might survive, only because