The sum of all fears - Tom Clancy [430]
"Come on, it's not that bad," the Senior Duty Officer observed, but all the others in the room felt the chill.
Jack turned. "Isn't it? Don't you see where this is heading? They're not listening to anybody. They're not listening. They might listen to Dennis Bunker or Brent Talbot, but they're both air pollution, little bits of fallout somewhere over Colorado. I'm the closest thing in town to an advisor right now, and I got myself tossed out."
CHAPTER 41
The Field of Camlan
The Admiral Lunin was going too fast for safety. Captain Dubinin knew that, but chances like this did not come along often. This was, in fact, the first, and the captain wondered if it might also be the last. Why were the Americans on a full-blown nuclear alert - yes, of course, a possible nuclear explosion in their country was a grave matter, but could they be so mad as to assume that a Soviet had done such a thing?
"Get me a polar projection chart," he said to a quartermaster. Dubinin knew what he would see, but it wasn't a time for remembrance, it was a time for hard facts. The meter-square sheet of hard paper was on the table a moment later. Dubinin took a pair of dividers and walked them from Maines estimated position to Moscow, and to the strategic rocket fields in the central part of his country.
"Yes." It could hardly be more clear, could it?
"What is it, Captain?" the Starpom asked.
"USS Maine, according to our intelligence estimates, is in the northernmost patrol sector of the missile submarines based at Bangor. That makes good sense, doesn't it?"
"Yes, Captain, based on what little we know of their patrol patterns."
"She carries the D-5 rocket, twenty-four of them, eight or so warheads per rocket " He paused. There had been a time when he'd been able to do such calculations in his head instantly.
"One hundred ninety-two, Captain," the executive officer said for him.
"Correct, thank you. That includes nearly all of our SS-18s, less those being deactivated by treaty, and the CEP accuracy of the D-5 makes it likely that those one hundred ninety-two warheads will destroy roughly one hundred sixty of their targets, which, in turn, accounts for more than a fifth of our total warhead count, and our most accurate warheads at that. Remarkable, isn't it?" Dubinin asked quietly.
"You really think they're that good?"
"The Americans demonstrated their marksmanship ability over Iraq, didn't they? I for one have never doubted the quality of their weapons."
"Captain, we know that the American D-5 submarine rockets are the most likely first-strike tool "
"Continue the thought."
The Starpom looked at the chart. "Of course. This is the closest one."
"Indeed. USS Maine is the point of the lance aimed at our country." Dubinin tapped the chart with his dividers. "If the Americans launch an attack, the first rockets will fly from this point, and nineteen minutes after that, they will hit. I wonder if our comrades in the Strategic Rocket Forces can respond that quickly ?"
"But, Captain, what can we do about this?" the executive officer asked dubiously.
Dubinin pulled the chart off the table and slid it back into its open drawer. "Nothing. Not a thing. We cannot attack preemptively without orders or grave provocation, can we? According to our best intelligence, he can launch his rockets at intervals of fifteen seconds, probably less, really. The manual becomes less important in war, doesn't it? Say four minutes from the first to the last. You have to do a ladder-north strike pattern to avoid warhead fratricide. That doesn't matter, if you examine the physics of the event. I looked at that while I was at Frunze, you know. Since our rockets are liquid-fueled, they cannot launch while the attack is under way. Even if their electronic components can withstand the electromagnetic effects, they are too fragile structurally to tolerate the physical