The following is a chapter from my new book called:
Earth Ark: The Magellan ll Story
This chapter depicts an almost total extinction event on planet Earth. Fortunately there's a huge star ship named the Magellan ll with ten thousand colonists heading for a new world, so the race lives on, and sets in place the back drop for the Hope Prophecy Trilogy.
World War Extinction
Wearing her usual grey business suit a size too small, and matching jacket, Lenya rushed into President Petrov’s office with the latest news concerning their not so subtle military mobilization. “Viktor, the Americans have shifted orbits of all their THOR systems. Every time we find and reacquire them, they simply move out of our target acquisition range,” her usual pout took on a more serious expression, “and not only that, but every single one of our newest Typhoon ll boomers that we placed in blind spots received a single sonar ping at exactly the same time about two hours ago.”
“So, the Americans have found all our SSBM subs.” He said while punching up the latest report on his computer.
“And they’ve let us know it.” She said as she tossed the paper report on his desk. He glanced at the report she brought in and matched it with what his computer told him.
“What’s this about them targeting our VOLK units?” He asked as an uneasy feeling swept through his mind. “Their targeting of our missile defense shield could be a sign of a first strike.” He said with a growing sense of dread.
Lenya plunked down in her usual chair, crossed her long legs, and nervously tapped the arms rests with her perfectly manicured nails. “They’re doing exactly what we’re doing.” She said dryly. “The only difference is that their THOR units all have small EMD engines, and can easily shift orbit. All of our VOLK systems are in a stationary orbit with no way to alter their trajectory.” She gave him a look of unfeigned concern. “If they launch a first strike against our VOLKS, there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Petrov ran his fingers through his fast thinning hair as he considered his options. “If that bitch thinks she can intimidate me then she has another think coming.” He told his assistant with as much bravado as he could muster. “She’s leaving me only one option.”
The finger drumming suddenly stopped, as Lenya fully understood what he was getting at. “Actually, this leaves you two options, Viktor.”
“Yeah, I get it,” he fired back at her, “but I will not pull back. America must be taught that they cannot push us around anymore.” He said conclusively.
“Then that only leaves us with the first strike option,” she said, her voice beginning to crack from her usual confidant tone, “and that means the end of the planet. You know that, right?”
“Not necessarily,” he countered, “not if we pretend to pull back, relax the tension, and then strike once they’ve began to stand down as well.”
“You’d risk all life on Earth on a bluff?” She asked incredulously.
Petrov had already convinced himself that this could be done. If the American’s stood down, and were caught off guard then a first strike could work. With a dismissive wave of his hand he told her. “Lenya, we have the only precipitation on the planet. Water has become our best export, and without America interfering with our water domination based foreign policy, then we’ll rule the planet for a thousand years.”
Lenya stared at him like he’d lost his mind, and with a slight tremble in her voice gave him her opinion. Her final opinion. “War with America will have no winner. Only losers,” She told him emphatically, “because we would perish as well.”
President Crissy Caryn was once again sitting in her chair at the National Command center receiving the latest reports from her various intelligence services. Sitting next to her was the Secretary of State, Robert Macmillan. “It seems that our Ambassador has had the desired effect on Petrov, Madame President. The Russians seem to be pulling back their forces, and have stopped harassing our intelligence flights.”
William Sanderhaust, the National Security Advisor had a very different take on what this Russian back off meant. “Madame President, I believe that this lessening of tensions is simply a ruse to lure us into standing down from our present DEFCON position.” He didn’t trust the Russians, and after overhearing many of Petrov’s phone conversations he believed the man was crazy enough to push the button. He wasn’t buying any of this.
While personally agreeing with her NSA the President was still forced into asking the all-important question. “So, what are you suggesting Bill, that we stay on alert while they reduce tensions?”
“Absolutely, Madame President,” He told her, “We cannot allow ourselves to be fooled by Petrov. He’s much too devious to ever be trusted.”
Macmillan cut in and tried to get in his position before he was pushed to the side. “President Caryn,” he pleaded his case, “I have assurances from my Russian counterpart that this lessening of tensions is legitimate. If we continue with DEFCON Four, then they will have no choice but to maintain their heightened state of readiness.” He concluded. “We need to give diplomacy a chance.”
“And leave ourselves wide open to a first strike!” Countered Sanderhaust as he stared down the Secretary of State. “That’s irresponsible at best, and suicidal at worst.”
Caryn had heard enough of this bickering, and seeing the bigger picture, made her decision. “Gentlemen, we can do both.” The tension around the table suddenly shifted from confrontation to confusion. “We’ll officially ratchet down from DEFCON Four, and try to play nice with Petrov, but we’ll keep our reaction forces on a tight rope. I have no intention of falling for any his subterfuge, but we can’t be seen as the only aggressor if we’re to have any influence in other theaters of foreign policy.”
“Meaning what exactly, Madame President?” Asked the NSA.
"Meaning, we let them think we’ve reduced readiness, but I want your eyes to stay on everything. Don’t even blink, Bill.” She ordered him. “If they make the slightest move towards breaking the trust, then we will instantly react.”
“Does that mean first strike options.” He pressed.
“Nothing is off the table at the moment, gentlemen," she swept the room a wide hard glare, "but we need to give them an opportunity to prove that they’re sincere.”
Macmillan squirmed in his seat with uneasiness. “And if there’s the slightest hint of a Russian first strike?” He asked, dreading the answer.
“Then God help us all.” Answered the President of the United States of America.
Within hours of the agreed stand down the Russian SSBM submarines slowly moved away from their perceived blind spots. All of them were shadowed by a US Navy attack submarine. The American carrier battle groups pulled back from the ring of iron they had clamped around the Russian empire, and whole squadrons of their hyper sonic F-42 fighters were stood down and landed back on the carriers, but neither the THOR, nor VOLK systems stood down. These units remained at a instantaneous state of readiness, and although half of the B-4 space plane bomber groups were drew out of constant patrol, their crews were constantly ready for quick take off.
The most obvious retraction of hostilities was the ones that the world’s news organizations could detect, and report on. They were happy to report that the near border incursions into the each others airspace had ceased, and that all the armored units across Europe, and central Asia were pulled back. The world breathed a sigh of relief, as the two most destructive nations in the history of the Earth seemed to pull back from the brink of all out war.
It was a false sense of security.
A week after the supposed stand down President Petrov sat at his big desk with his hand hovering over the phone. He knew what he had to do, but since his personal advisor, and closest confidant, Lenya had suddenly disappeared, he wasn’t so sure of himself anymore. He’d found no suitable replacement for her. His hand wavered indecisively, but only for a moment, as he finally made up his mind—it must be first strike. The Americans had pulled back their carrier battle groups, and stood down the majority on their B-4 space bombers. He would have no better time than now to do what must be done. With his resolve now firmed his hand steadied, finally gripped the receiver and dialed the Russian command center. “General Popov, initiate Operation Blackeye.”
“Da, Mister President,” responded the chief of Russia’s military, “we will begin as planned.”
“Very good, General Popov. Call me once the missiles are on their way,” Petrov commanded, “I’ll be in my war bunker, and will expect the call within the hour.” His hand was shaking as he hung up the phone, knowing he had just started the war to end all wars. He was confident that it would be over soon, and the Russian Empire would rule the world with him as the greatest leader in the history of mankind.
“Crissy,” yelled Sanderhaust as he barged into her office. “The Russians have reversed their stand down, and have launched several hypersonic missiles towards our airspace.”
“That lying little fucking weasel,” she hissed. “Are our THOR’s in position to shoot them down?” She demanded.
“We’ve got total target acquisition, and are tracking their trajectory,” anxiety taunt in his voice, he told her, “but we need your authorization to commence the national defense initiative. They’ll arrive in six minutes.”
“Fuck yes!” She said as she jumped up from her desk. “Do it! Do it now. No holds barred. We retaliate with the full throw weight of our entire defense network.” She ordered as she began running towards the White House deep bunker complex. It would only be a matter of minutes before someone’s missiles detonated.
The worldwide news wires were immediately told of the impending Earth shattering catastrophe. The airwaves quickly filled with panicked pleas to both nations, but it was too late. The die had been cast, and the arsenals of the Russian Empire, and NATO were launched en mass.
Millions of people through out the world began scrambling into any underground shelter they could find. For the vast majority these fallout bunkers weren’t even close to being enough protection. Only the few deep underground bunkers scattered through the planet provided a safe haven for those lucky enough to reach them.
All the SSBM submarines from both sides reversed their course, and headed back to their launch coordinates. Boomers from both sides were taken out by the attack submarines dedicated to destroy them. Most were destroyed, but not all, and scores of SSBM’s were launched only minutes away from their targets.
At 06:59 GMT, on the seventh of July, AD 2100, the first shot fired in anger was a massive Russian assault by dozens of hyper drive EMP missiles aimed at all NATO countries. Only two detonated over the eastern seaboard the United States, and blew out all power over half the country. All of Western Europe lost power, and once their televisions, and the Internet disappeared, panic gripped the populace. For less than twenty minutes no one knew what all this really meant.
It was hard for any sane person to fathom that billions had only minutes to live.
The power blackout did nothing to hinder the THOR system, and hundreds of the follow up Russian ICBM’s were destroyed, but dozens got through, and hit almost every major American and European city. The United States and Western Europe were devastated. The VOLK units fired their particle beam weapons into the massed American counter strikes, but only seventeen percent of the American ICBM’s were hit. Every major Russian city disappeared in a mushroom cloud of radioactivity.
And the combatants were far from finished.
Once the initial nuclear missiles attacks were over the space based B-4 bombers, and the THOR units continued to pound any Russian military target with both particle beam, and space borne nuclear missiles. The VOLK units did the same until both sides of the conflict had been devastated beyond anything previously imaginable.
Once there weren’t anymore surface targets to destroy, the THOR and VOLK systems turned on each, and began to destroy the space borne defense networks that both sides had put so much stock into. Within hours the only surviving humans in space were aboard the B-4 space bombers, and they had no place to land. Many of the crews remained in orbit hoping to find a safe place to land. Something, anything, but they had a bird’s eye view of the near total destruction on the planets surface, and it became quickly obvious that there was nothing left but radioactive death waiting for them on the ground. Many chose to die in space, while others landed, and died from exposure.
The war lasted almost twenty-four hours, and at the beginning of hostilities the world’s population was over seventeen billion. The next day only four billion survived, and these would die within the next few weeks as the radioactive fallout from thousands of nuclear detonations spread across the planet, and choked it to death. The governments of both Russia and America, who had gone into their supposedly safe bunkers were destroyed as both sides had bunker busting nuclear missiles designed to destroy these safe havens. Within days no national government on Earth survived.
Almost all life on the surface on planet Earth ceased to exist. The oceans fared little better. In less than a week the total surviving human population numbered only a million souls, and these were scattered through out the planet in isolated pockets in deep underground bunkers. The last humans on Earth would remain underground for the next two hundred years. The war to end all wars did just that.
The death of Earth would later be known as World War Extinction, or as it became to be known by later generations: WWX.