Impact Read Free Page A

They tried to fire up a mothballed silo, but the place got overrun before they could launch. You know the score. The world is falling apart. We have to adapt. Use what we can find.’
    ‘B-2s?’
    ‘Otherwise engaged.’
    ‘Subs?’
    ‘Lost communication. They must be out there, somewhere, under autonomous control.’
    Pinback leaned forwards and peered at sat photos. A desert mountain range. Sedimentary rock. Rippling contours. Peaks, mesas, ravines.
    ‘What’s the target?’
    ‘Classified. The missile will make the final leg of the journey on its own. You won’t even see the aim point. All you have to do is confirm detonation, then return to base.’
    ‘What kind of bang are we talking about?’
    ‘Ten kilotons. Like I say: weapon release fifteen minutes from target. Just take position and watch the show.’
    Trenchman turned to Frost.
    ‘You’re the radar nav, right?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    He handed Frost a plastic disk on a lanyard.
    ‘Old school authorisation protocol. Dual key, all the way.’
    Frost turned the disk in her hand.
    ‘The arm code?’
    Trenchman nodded.
    ‘Captain Hancock holds the other one. Two minutes from the drop point, you will contact me for final authorisation to proceed. Once you’ve got the Go, your EWO will arm the weapon. Load both codes. Then you’re hot to trot.’
    Hancock looked around at sombre faces.
    ‘Hey. First folks to drop an atomic weapon on US soil in anger. We’re about to make history.’



4
    Trenchman activated the hangar door controls. Motor whine. Clatter of drum-chain. The doors parted, splitting a huge Delta Airlines logo in half. They slowly slid back, revealing the floodlit aircraft.
    Light spilled across the slipway. Low moan from darkness beyond the perimeter fence. Infected wrenched and tore at the chain-link, agitated by the sight of light and movement. Some of them started to climb the fence. Gunshots from the watchtowers. Snipers momentarily lit by muzzle flash, eyes to the scope. Rotted bodies fell from the wire, decapitated by .50 cal rounds. They hit the ground, and were immediately trampled underfoot.
    Osborne:
    ‘Hey, Colonel.’
    Trenchman unhooked his radio.
    ‘Go ahead.’
    ‘Neighbours are getting mighty restless, sir. Need that plane in the air, soon as practicable.’
    ‘Roger that.’
    Hancock rolled the weapon platform into the hangar on silent wheels. Two sentries paced behind the electric truck.
    Pinback watched as he parked the truck behind the wing, flush with the plane’s fuselage.
    ‘Give me a hand.’
    Pinback helped Hancock unrope the tarp and pull it clear.
    First sight of the weapon. AGM-129 ACM. Twenty feet long. One and a half tons. Porcelain white. Forward-sweeping fins.
    Hancock released canvas retaining straps.
    ‘Better stand back.’
    He adjusted the handset. The carriage wheels swivelled ninety degrees. The weapon truck slowly slid beneath the plane, easing to a halt beneath the open bomb bay doors.
    Hancock ducked beneath the doors and looked up into the payload compartment. Frost stood on a narrow walkway looking down on him.
    ‘Ten kilotons.’
    ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Hiroshima, give or take.’
    ‘You’ve done your sums, right? We won’t get blasted out the sky?’
    ‘We’ll be fifteen minutes clear. Close enough for a grandstand view. Thermonuclear detonation, up close and personal. Not many folk get the privilege.’
    He activated brakes. Steel feet extended and anchored the weapon platform to the hangar floor.
    He pressed RAISE. Hydraulic rams began to lift the massive weapon into the belly of the plane.
    The flight deck.
    Pinback ducked beneath overhead control panels and lowered himself into the pilot seat. He secured the five-point harness.
    Interior inspection. He checked avionic presets.
    ‘Battery start.’
    The external AC cart was disconnected and rolled clear. Thumbs up from the crew chief.
    ‘All yours.’
    Aircraft on internal power.
    Trim check. Another thumbs up from the chief. He