Arctic Storm Rising by Dale Brown (android based ebook reader .TXT) 📕

stop Petrov. But by warning them of what’s coming, we would just give them time to evacuate their militaryand political leaders, disperse their bombers and submarines, and put their ICBMs on full alert.” His fist crashed down again,making them all jump. “So, in the end, we would only find ourselves confronted by a fully armed and ready enemy—an enemy boundto seek vengeance for Petrov’s sneak attack.”

Rogozin and the others were visibly shaken. In many ways, that would be the worst of all possible outcomes. Even a failed cruise missile attack on the target cities and bases Petrov had listed would still kill hundreds of thousands of American civilians. War would be inevitable. “What, then, are our options, Mr. President?” the Air Force general asked finally.

Zhdanov’s eyes were hooded. “Options?” He shook his head in disgust, staring down at the surface of the table. “There arenone.”

“Sir?”

Slowly, the Russian president looked up. “We have no choice but to ride this nuclear whirlwind Petrov plans to unleash. Everyother path leads inevitably to disaster.”

“If you’re wrong, millions of our countrymen may die,” Rogozin warned.

Zhdanov nodded heavily. “True enough.” Then he shrugged. “But if we sit here and do nothing, those same millions may die—andall for nothing.” He turned to the commander of Russia’s Strategic Rocket Forces, Colonel General Anatoly Gruzdev. “Bringyour missiles to their highest state of launch readiness, General. But discreetly. The Americans must not find out what we’reup to.”

Somberly, Gruzdev nodded his understanding.

“The moment our early-warning satellites confirm nuclear detonations on targets inside the United States, you will launchan all-out attack on America’s ICBM fields,” Zhdanov continued. “Destroy every single one of those enemy missiles in theirsilos, Anatoly. Make the rubble bounce. We’ll only get one chance at this.”

Thirty-Nine

Crow Field

That Same Time

Inside the cockpit of the PAK-DA stealth bomber, Alexei Petrov leaned forward and finished keying in the last elements ofhis flight plan. Lights along the top of the central multifunction display flashed from amber to green as the aircraft’s computerschecked his orders and signaled their acceptance. He watched them closely, aware of more pressure building up in the backof his brain. The headaches triggered by his malignant brain tumor were coming ever more rapidly now, held at bay only byincreasing doses of medication.

Fortunately, Petrov thought with cool irony, very soon now, he would no longer need to worry about his disease. Death, afterall, was the final solution for all human illness. But in the meantime, the need to numb himself against crippling pain requiredhim to rely on the bomber’s autonomous systems to manage this final mission. Through the haze induced by medicines, his ownreflexes were no longer up to the task.

He checked his flight instruments and panels one last time, just to be sure. Without a copilot to help him run through hischecklists, precision was even more essential. Satisfied, he tapped a code sequence on the screen’s virtual keyboard to sethis VIKHR program in motion.

Immediately, a new window opened on the MFD. An icon blinked. go for engine start, the bomber’s computer reported. Two indicators flashed red and then green. ignition on both engines. Petrov glanced at his throttles. Eerily, both moved on their own accord, going to idle without any command input from him.Through the aircraft’s open belly hatch, he heard the two big turbofans powering up. Their noise deepened from a high-pitchedwhine to a growling rumble.

Oppressed suddenly by a sense of urgency, Petrov got up and moved back through the short interior tunnel to the open hatch.He climbed down the ladder there, dropped awkwardly onto the hard-packed snow floor, and then hurried over to the controlsfor the camouflaged aircraft shelter’s large central door. It was a simple, small box dangling from a power cord connectedto electric motors mounted near the roof. He flipped the single switch and heard the motors hum. For a few moments, he stoodwatching just to make sure nothing went wrong as they slowly winched the hangar’s fabric covering upward.

In the moonlight, far across the gleaming white surface of his improvised runway, flames still danced amid the burning wreckageof the tent camp he’d set ablaze. A thick column of oily black smoke, lit from the inside by flickering sparks crackling offthe gasoline-fed fire, curled away on the wind.

And then Petrov’s eyes widened in shock. A camouflaged military helicopter had just clattered straight through the smoke.Sleek-nosed, with a four-bladed main rotor, it was already flaring out to land close to the hangar. Someone had found him!He whirled around and scrambled under the PAK-DA bomber’s broad, blended wing to get back to the hatch.

 

Aboard the Ka-60 Kosatka helicopter, Flynn snapped an order to Hynes. He and the square-shouldered enlisted man were the only Americans aboard. He’d been forced to leave the other three able-bodied troops under his command, Vucovich, Kim, and Santarelli, behind at the spur to do their best to keep the wounded and injured alive until he could get back to them. “Keep the crew covered, Cole. Once we’re down, this bird doesn’t go anywhere without my say-so!”

The Army PFC nodded. “You got it, sir. One twitch I don’t like and both of these guys will end up splattered across that windshield.”He had the Russian-made AKM he’d picked up back on the battlefield angled to sweep the entire cockpit at the slightest signof trouble from either of the helicopter’s two pilots. Fortunately, the Russian aviators still seemed to be in a state ofshock at how easily the tables had been turned on them. When Flynn and Hynes came hurrying out of the darkness, they’d seenwhat they’d expected to see—two Spetsnaz commandos coming to report the destruction of the American force. Instead, they’dsuddenly had assault rifles shoved in their faces and found out the hard way that they were now prisoners.

Once Flynn checked out this burning wilderness camp where no camp should be, he planned to use the captured helicopter tofly his men and the wounded Russian survivors south to Fairbanks, the nearest place with an emergency trauma center. Witha little