Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [163]
Herbert felt a jolt. "That's not true. What if the missile blows in the cave?"
"Why would it?" Martha asked. "Why would the missile even go into the cave?"
"Because the new generation of missile operates via LOS," Herbert said. He was thinking aloud, trying to figure out if he was right. "In the absence of geographical data, the Tomahawk identifies its target through a singular combination of visual, audio, satellite, and electronic data. The missile probably won't have visual contact because the ROC is behind a mountain, and the satellite's been shut down. But it will pick up electronic activity--probably through the cave, which is the most direct path. And the missile will go after it along that route. Sensors in the nose will warn it to stay away from everything which isn't the ROC, such as the sides of the cave."
"But not people," Martha said.
"The people are too small to notice," Herbert said. "Anyway, it isn't the impact I'm worried about. It's the abort itself. Even if the order is transmitted in time, it'll come when the missile is already inside the cave. Everything in the cave will be caught in the explosion."
There was a short silence. Herbert looked at his watch. He grabbed the phone to Ishi Honda.
"Private, listen to me!" Herbert said.
"Sir?"
"Take cover!" he yelled. "Any cover! There's a chance the missile's going to abort in your laps!"
* * *
FIFTY-NINE
Tuesday, 4:01 p.m.,
the Bekaa Valley, Lebanon
Mike Rodgers had no desire to watch the B-Team Strikers help the Kurds. They were pulling burning bodies from the hell of the burning headquarters. The Strikers used dirt from the floor of the cave and even their own bodies to extinguish flaming clothes and hair and limbs. Then they began carrying them outside, to the light, where they could be given at least basic first aid.
Rodgers turned his own burned body from the rescue effort. He didn't like what he was thinking and feeling--that he hoped they suffered. Each one of them. He wanted them to hurt the way he did.
The general let his head roll back. Pain continued to flare along his arms and sides. Pain caused by a willful disregard for every legal and moral code. Pain ordered by a man who demeaned his cause and his people by inflicting it.
Rodgers walked back into the cave. He would rescue Seden later. Right now, he wanted to see if there was anything he could do to help take back the ROC. The ROC which had been his to command, which he had lost.
He listened as he approached. There were gunshots, followed by Colonel August counting down. He arrived just as Ishi Honda radioed Op-Center that the ROC had been retaken.
Rodgers faded back against a wall. This was August's triumph and he had no right to share in it. He looked down and listened. He could hear the relief in the voices of the Strikers as A-Team moved in to secure the van. He felt nearly alone, though not quite. As the Italian poet Pavese had once written, "A man is never completely alone in this world. At the worst, he has the company of a boy, a youth, and by and by a grown man--the one he used to be." Rodgers had the company of the soldier and the man he'd been just a day before.
After what was only a few seconds but seemed much longer, Rodgers heard Private Honda call for Colonel August.
"Sir," Honda said quickly, "the Tomahawk may strike the ROC or abort in the cave in approximately forty seconds. We're advised to seek cover--"
"Strikers assemble on the double!" August yelled.
Rodgers ran toward them. "Colonel, this way!"
August looked at him. Rodgers was already running down the other fork.
"Follow the general!" August cried. "Ishi, radio B-team to get down the slope with the prisoners!"
"Yes, sir!"
Rodgers reached the prison section even as they heard the bass horn roar of the Tomahawk racing toward the cave. The general ordered the men to throw open the grates and jump into the pits. He opened Colonel Seden's prison himself, making sure that no one hurt him as they climbed