"Say again dispatch" requested Ray Carlisle.
"Roger. Sunnyvale PD reports EOC activated, P3 down at Wolve and Fremont. Report of, I spell, S A M, strike. Also, action over Bay. Standby all stations...Supervisor Ten requests all units to Able, repeat, all units to Able."
Ray shivered and resisted the temptation to pull over and relax his shaking hands. His people had just told him that the U.S.was at a wartime footing. Despite what knew of the probable source of a SAM launch, it still shook him up to think that the attack of a few crazies could take the U.S. to a dangerously precipitous state of emergency.
"What was that about Able" asked Jud from the back seat, still a little whoosie from the sedative the doctor had just given him at the hospital.
"Our 'friends' just shot down a P3 Orien over Sunnyvale, Jud."
"What!" Jud jerked up in his seat, suddenly all aware, and no longer whoosy.
"Yeah, and we are on our way to the Blue Cube. Seems I am to report to my wartime station."
"No shit" said Jud, as he checked the ammo in his 9mm. "God and I'm out of ammunition."
"Let me see that" requested Ray, and as his new partner handed it to him, he said, "You really should get some sleep. I'll hold this for until you've got some sleep."
"Yeah guess you're right...God that Doc's got me souped up. I feel like I'm floating around back here.
Ray pulled the clip out of the weapon, one hand still on the wheel, and ejected the one shot left "up the spout" concerned that he should have taken the weapon away from Jud along time ago. It was the kind of mistake a careful weapon handler like Jud would never make. So much for the "light" sedative the Doctor had claimed he had administered to Jud.
"Fredricks. No shit. Okay, we're at one."
Turning to Buck, Colonel Fredricks had a grim face on. "That was Colonel Marstoni. A P-3 just went down. Looks like a SAM. You and me are going for a ride.
Buck's mouth dropped and he blindly followed the Delta leader out of the office and into the long hallway. Following the Army Colonel's example, he held his badge up so anyone and everyone could see it as they moved toward the special rear entrance to building. There, once passing a last ditch security check, they jumped into a helicopter.
As they lifted into the air, Buck looked down at the top of the Blue Cube, and was amazed to see nothing short of fifty men, scampering to places of cover. Someone was all of a sudden damned serious.
"EOC, Firecap"
"Go ahead Firecap" replied the dispatcher at Sunnyvale Emergency Operations Center.
"EOC, escalate. I want the ERs on. We're going to need all the help when get."
"Standby, Firecap"
"Firecap, EC" radioed the Emergency Coordinator.
"Go ahead, Russ"
"I've got the Amateur EC on his way in. He has started his phone tree, and his communicators are coming up on his frequency now. We should have a good pool within 15 minutes. Do you have any numbers in mind, we can easily get more from RACES."
"I'd say 50. I believe we have our Emergency. Let's go for it. I'm sure the hospitals will be needed. We will have at least several hundred injured, so Kaiser, O'Connor, and El Camino our going to need communicators. We'll need choppers here too. In fact, they'll be here first. Let's get people for that right away. I'll also want to pass status reports over the Amateur Packet Net. Let's put a priority on getting that up as well. Get the volunteers out of work if we can."
"Roger, Firecap. I'll let Walt know. Anything else?"
"I'll get back to you. Stick around. On second thought, get the Amateurs to put a shadow on you, and get over here. I might want you to do some running around."
"No problem, first HAM shows up will man the radios here, second one will ride with me. EC out."
Cliff looked over the strewn out airplane wreckage and wondered what he was going to find under it. He had asked for the Amateur Radio Emergency Coordinators help in communicating because he knew the fire and police channels would be filled with life critical traffic, and he still needed to pass plenty of low priority and routine information. He had tested with the Amateurs every fall, and was confident in their professionalism and effectiveness.
He watched as another two fire rigs came in trailing hoses, their men already manning them to put out structure fires. He was hoping the Moffett AFB and San Jose International Foam would trucks would arrive in time. He needed assistance since his one foamer was only able to work around the wreck currently, leaving a lot of it to burn out of control. He had wings to cover in spots covering a quarter of mile, trailing fuel on some houses and not touching others.
Hearing the "chop, chop" of helicopters he turned to see a black painted helicopter coming into land on the south side of Wolfe Road. He assumed it was a medivac chopper from Moffet or the Coast Guard, and was surprised when a helmeted soldier jumped out followed by a tall older man wearing a Green Beret.
The officer quickly stooped under the still rotating blades of the chopper, and Cliff walked over to meet the man half way.
"Captain? My name is Colonel Fredricks."
"Afternoon Colonel. What can I help you with."
"Well, I've got bad news for you. That plane was carrying nuclear weapons. This is what we call a Broken Arrow. You will have to use nuclear containment techniques on this fire, and our people will soon be swarming all over this wreckage. And of course all the injured will need to be isolated and examined for radioactive contamination."
Cliff stared at the Colonel for a moment, the man's words taking effect very shortly. His men had been trained in nuclear accident handling, but no one ever thought that they would have to practice it. Even when you knew the fact, it was taken for granted that the aircraft flying over their heads every day carried nukes. But now that he was reminded, he realized that the Navy sometimes carried nuclear mines aboard the turbo charged sub hunter.
"Okay, Broken Arrow it is." Cliff then stepped quickly back to the fire rig, grabbed the microphone and called the bad news in.
"EOC, Firecap."
"Go ahead Firecap."
"We have a major contaminant problem, class A. Copy?"
The dispatcher paused for a moment and then came back, "Roger Firecap, copied Class A contaminant. Will roll appropriate units."
"10-4 EOC, Firecap."
Then turning back to Fredricks who had followed him to the fire rig, he said, "Any other special handling you request?"
"Maybe. You a vet?"
"Yes, Sir. I was in Nam."
"Okay, I'll give it to you straight. We believe this P-3 was shot down by a SAM. I ..." but was interrupted by Cliff who asked,
"The same guys who shot the Redeye at the car?"
"Maybe...anyway, I would love to have any physical evidence of the missile attack. For instance, put priority on the keeping as much of the wing structures and engines intact. Foam them first."
"Colonel my first priority is people."
"Understand. But when you're foaming, make sure the hardware around the wings gets a dose first. Alright?"
"Right. NTSB on the way?"
"No, it will be FBI and Navy Safety. NTSB will not be involved. Incidentally ever heard of Delta?"
"The anti-terrorist guys?"
"Yep, that's me. If you want to talk to me, an FBI guy will be here soon. Take his card. Call him, and he'll get to me. Any questions."
"Nope Colonel, I think I've got it."
"Okay. Good luck, Captain. This one is going to be messy."
"Yeah, tell me about it" said Cliff with a sour look on his face.
"If you see a couple of helicopters around, they're not press, their NEST, National Energy Sensing Team. Give them cooperation too, if the choose to land".
"Oh and I almost forgot. This is Buck Dayton. He's press, give him the run of the area, he's working with us...kind of one man reporting pool."
Cliff nodded to the man, wondering how much trouble a reporter could be.
Then with a whoosh the strange Colonel jumped into the chopper and climbed away.
"Swing right" said the voice over the intercom.
The pilot obliged the request by slipping in more rudder and the tail of the long 206L Texas Ranger. Painted a standard Navy Blue and White with the small Navy emblazoned on the tail structure, the helicopter was the last in a long line of Bell Ranger helicopters. This one, with a modified 250-C30 turbine and slightly longer rotor blades, carried a vast array of sensitive instruments, instruments which could detect from two thousand yards, even the most minute of nuclear radiations. As they cruised, the computers on board measured the background radiation, and when a spike in nuclear decay activity occured, the operator requested a turn to investigate. In this case, they had just found the fourth and probably last massive radiator. With a grimace the pilot and operator alike looked down as they once again moved into the housing area hoping with desperation that they wouldn't find another burning home infested with a high count. But as with the other three broken weapons, they hovered over a burning house which was literally burning with fire and nuclear energy.
"Firecap, this is Butterfly. We have another hot spot. We are hovering."
"Rog. Standby" answered the voice of Cliff Durk. "Okay, gotcha. Stay there for a sec, and we'll have unit over there."
The pilot and operator looked at each other as the helo sideslipped a little to avoid the shifting cloud. There were going to be some sick people down there. Looking down the street, they could see some Navy trucks with suited figures seated in back, racing down Wolve Road.
Ahead, the other NEST chopper lifted away from the foam station setup at the small school nearby, and came over to dump fire retardent and decontamination foam on the house. What a mess.
Jud tried to make out the man briefing them on the P-3 "incident". A tall fellow he didn't recognize was speaking with some authority.
"...P3-D Orien, VP-15, stationed at Moffett NAS. Seems someone shot a Redeye missile at her. The pilot and crew, the top reserve crew on the base, were just back from range testing out the new E model bird, and managed to mislead the rocket. Unfortunately VP- 23, a war bird returning from patrol, was also in the landing pattern, and didn't have the new PAVE TACK III equipment on board. She was downed right in the middle of Sunnyvale, just south on the approach to the base. VP-15 and his green crew went to Condition 1 and promptly blew away the launcher, a heavy speed boat out in the bay. Then our VP-15, at a full war-time footing, shut down all air traffic from San Jose International To and including San Francisco International. For twenty minutes, Moffett AFB was at war, waiting for any other hostile moves. The downed P-3 Orien was carrying an ABM-109G Tomahawk nuclear cruise missile on board when she went down."
Jud groaned out loud, which caused several of the people in the Blue Cube to look over at him.