“How in the world can that be possible?”
General Thompson says, “President Barrett had a meeting this morning with General Peterson, Cybercommand. He authorized a full-scale cyberattack against China, commencing in”—he glances up at one of the digital clocks hanging from the ceiling—“in just over an hour. At twelve hundred hours our time.”
General Wyman says, “How extensive?”
“He’s throwing everything at them, including the kitchen sink. Attack profile is called Case Shanghai. Starting at the top with their military command and control, infrastructure, banking and finance systems, all the way down to their Ministry of Tourism and Culture.”
For a brief moment General Wyman is speechless. The vice chairman says, “I just got off the phone with General Peterson. He says POTUS had the necessary launch codes to start Case Shanghai.”
Wyman explodes. “Of course he has the goddamn codes! He also has the launch codes to send nukes to take out Acapulco if he wanted to. Didn’t Peterson find the situation unusual, something to make him stop and goddamn think?”
The vice chairman says, “Peterson says the president told him that he had buy-off from the National Security Council, congressional leadership, the secretary of defense, and you as well, General. Peterson felt all of the necessary notifications had been made.”
Wyman rubs at his forehead. “And everything the president told him was a lie.”
Deputy Defense Director Clark Kim speaks up, voice high-pitched and squeaky. “But … General Wyman, can’t you order the Cybercommand to stand down? To halt their planned attack?”
It feels like a ton of lead is now nestling in his chest. “No,” he says softly. “Cybercommand has received lawful orders from the commander in chief. I can’t countermand that. Like it or not, the president is in control. The only way this attack is halted is by another valid order from the commander in chief.”
He looks up against the display boards. He thinks about all the training, scenarios, and classes he’s gone through over the years, playing all types of scenarios from all kinds of attack.
But never has he faced a situation like this, a rogue president going out on his own to start a war.
And Wyman is under no illusions. Beijing is in the process of conducting a preemptive attack, to hit the United States before thefull cyberattack begins, and he has to start issuing orders to get the conventional and nuclear forces prepared.
Escalation following escalation following escalation.
Until the spark, the mistake, the oversight, starts the war.
A war like none other, with cities going dark, fuel deliveries stopping, communications going silent, most of this entirely interconnected world being sent back to the nineteenth century.
He looks to his assistant. “Get me the White House Communications Office. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
A few seconds pass.
“Here, sir.” A phone receiver is passed to him. “It’s Major Jewel.”
“This is General Wyman, JCS,” he says. “Major, I need to talk to the president. Now.”
“Er, yes sir, straightaway. Hold on, sir.”
He waits.
Looking again at the little symbols up on the status screens, each bit of light marking scores or hundreds of crew members, millions of dollars or yuans invested in submarines, surface ships, missile silos, and aircraft, all coming together.
“Sir?”
“Yes, go on.”
Major Jewel sounds like he’s about to cry. “I’m sorry, sir. The president is unavailable. He won’t answer his secure line, the White House switchboard can’t reach him, and I’ve sent a runner to the Oval Office. He refuses to answer the door. He … he’s out of touch.”
“Keep on trying,” he says, then slams the receiver down.
Both the vice chairman and the deputy defense director look at him, like young boys, hoping Daddy can do something miraculous.
“Sorry, gentlemen,” he says. “Our president has let loose the dogs of war, and we can’t do a damn thing about it.”