—
Eight hundred miles away in a high-tech conference room a group of senior military officers watched the successful test and cheered. They pumped their fists and slapped each other on the back. They spoke enthusiastically about controlling the twenty-first-century battlefield with fleets of EAGL aircraft circling high above.
“The EAGL can shoot down a hundred ballistic missiles before they leave enemy territory,” an Air Force general named Offerman boasted. “It can stand two hundred miles from a battlefield and take out a thousand drones in an hour’s work.”
“We could park one over every major city,” the Assistant Secretary of Defense added. “And office workers can take their lunch at sidewalk cafés in the middle of a war.”
A representative from Scion, the company that had built the laser, grinned and shrugged as if that was a little far-fetched in his mind. But his smile suggested it wasn’t too far off. The main idea behind the EAGL was not to shoot down drones, but to make ballistic missiles obsolete. The plan was to build a fleet of the aircraft and have them patrol the Arctic, where all the ballistic missiles from Russia or China would have to travel to reach the United States. It was conservatively estimated that nine such aircraft could eradicate the entire Russian ballistic missile force even if it were launchedsimultaneously. Half the missiles would be destroyed before they reached the upper atmosphere. The other half would be wiped out as they raced directly overhead through the dark limits of space.
The Israelis had built an Iron Dome to protect their country. The United States would have one made of X-rays and invisible light.
Amid the celebration, one of the technicians noticed a problem. After confirming it wasn’t on the receiving end, he alerted Offerman. “General, we’re losing telemetry on the EAGL.”
The celebration hit a wall. The laughter died. Everyone turned back to the screens they’d been watching earlier. Video from the chase planes showed the aircraft flying straight and level. It appeared fine.
“What data blocks are dropping out?” Offerman asked.
“We’ve lost navigation,” the technician said. “Speed, altitude, heading, temperature.”
On another screen, which showed a virtual mock-up of the cockpit, the indicators went from accurate numbers to a series of question marks. Seconds later they became dashed lines. Engine readouts failed next.
“Were losing laser telemetry now,” a technician from Scion reported.
Offerman wavered as he felt a sudden numbness in his knees. If not for the view from the chase plane they would have no way of knowing if the C-17 was still flying or had exploded midair.
“Contact the pilot,” Offerman said calmly.
The Air Force communication specialist put in several calls, but to no avail. “No response.”
“Aircraft is turning and descending,” someone called out.
“Contact the chase planes,” Offerman ordered. “Find out what the hell is going on.”
The communications specialist made the calls. “Blue Shadow Leader, this is Bullfrog. We’ve lost communications and telemetrywith the EAGL. Track shows it changing course and descending. Can you confirm?”
The fighter pilot’s steely voice came back an instant later. “Confirmed. EAGL is departing approved course. Aircraft is not responding to radio calls.”
“Look at this,” the Scion representative said. He’d pulled up a low-resolution feed from the cameras inside the aircraft. The video wasn’t watched live because it was really only useful to review the crew performance after the fact. It showed the laser technicians slumped in their chairs. Caldwell’s body could be seen on the floor, a swath of dark liquid seeping out from underneath him.
“Damn,” someone blurted out. “It’s a hijacking.”
Offerman wasted no more time. “Send the self-destruct signal. Take it down.”
Keys were turned. A switch guarded by plastic glass was revealed. The keys were turned again, arming the system. The Air Force staff sergeant in charge of the self-destruct system looked up for confirmation.
“Do it,” Offerman snapped.
The switch was pressed and held. The signal went out via satellite. A sickening delay followed during which Offerman wondered what his next career would be after blowing up a billion-dollar aircraft. At least he’d go out with a bang.
Every eye focused on the view from the chase plane, awaiting a series of explosions that would start in the center of the fuselage, rupture the fuel lines, and quickly produce a massive fireball.
But nothing happened.
The sergeant reset the system and sent the signal again. “No response,” he announced.
Curses filled the room. The assembled officers couldn’t believe what they were seeing and hearing.
Offerman grabbed the microphone and spoke to the F-35 pilots. “Chase team, this is Bullfrog actual. The EAGL has been hijacked. I repeat, the EAGL has been hijacked. I’m giving you a direct order: Shoot down that plane.”
