Chapter 384 Cry Havoc...
The moment the conference call ended, work began on drafting the agreement proposed by the president of India. Since time was tight, they could only afford a few revisions to accommodate one demand from each of the leaders, making the process highly abbreviated and incredibly fast. From the end of the meeting to the agreement being signed by the ambassadors of each of the eight remaining nuclear powers.
The signing itself was seen as of monumental importance, and as such, the Pakistani president’s demand had been the easiest to incorporate in the agreement. Unlike China, which wanted the technological blockade imposed by the west removed, or India, who wanted territorial concessions along the India-China border, the only thing Pakistan had requested was that the signing be held in Aiwan-i-Saddar, the house of their president.
The United Kingdom wanted Brexit to be expedited and the negotiations to go in their favor, the United States wanted to place military bases in the other seven countries involved, France wanted the UK and US to publicly acknowledge the French Resistance’s efforts in WWII, Israel wanted the other seven nations to publicly acknowledge their rights in the Gaza Strip, and Russia wanted the sanctions imposed on them due to the Russo-Ukrainian war lifted.
Once everything had been completed and triplechecked, the ambassadors from each nation, having been granted the delegated power to sign the new accord, gathered in the Aiwan-i-Saddar and, with a minimum level of pomp and circumstance, signed it.
Once the accord was signed, the nuclear powers immediately got to work.
All eight countries’ nuclear arsenal keepers had long been on their highest alert and the tension in the air in those countries, or at least their halls of power, was so thick it could practically be cut by a knife. The tension had ratcheted up so high, in fact, that despite being purposefully kept unaware, the entire world felt a sense of oncoming dread. It was almost like a dormant fortunetelling gene had awakened in humanity’s DNA, warning them of a potential oncoming disaster.
……
Washington DC, midnight.
President Trump was in the situation room, the “nuclear football” open and resting on the conference table in front of him. A cord stretched from the big, black briefcase to the phone handset in his hand as he read from a card pulled out of the case.
"Tango, Sierra, Victor, Foxtrot...."
"Authorization received, Mr. President. Standby for final confirmation."
A few minutes later, the voice on the other end of the phone said, "Authorization confirmed, Mr. President. Launch sequence initiated." The call immediately ended; the launch sequence had been initiated and could no longer be stopped.
The same process, though with different steps, was also happening in China and the other six nuclear powers. One by one, the launch process in each country was initiated.
……
Somewhere in the Indian Ocean, on the bridge of one of the UK’s Vanguard class submarines.
“Bring us to firing depth,” the captain ordered in a heavy tone. He had received an order that he’d hoped to never receive in his lifetime from the admiralty.
“Aye, captain,” the helmsman replied, then began the process of ascending the sub.
While the sub was ascending, the captain began the firing sequence. He first informed his first officer, then the two pulled the case from the captain’s safe. Opening it with both of their keys, they pulled out a plastic card that contained a slip of paper with the authorization codes for nuclear launches on it. The captain, under the witness of his first officer, weapons officer, and the coxswain, began reading the code from the case as the first officer checked it against the code that had been transmitted to them.
Once the code had been verified as valid by all three officers and the enlisted coxswain, the weapons officer returned to his station and brought up the separate system that would program the nukes’ targets.
“How many missiles are to be armed, captain?” he asked.
“The order says all of them, lieutenant commander.” Large beads of cold sweat were trickling down the captain’s forehead and spine. Even though he wasn’t the one making the decision, his actions still weighed heavily on his very soul.
“Target?” the weapons officer asked, his voice cracking on the question. Never in his life would he have expected to be the one to fire his full payload of nuclear missiles dry.
“Eden, lieutenant commander. Coordinates are on your console,” the captain answered.
The coxswain received a call to a handset on the bridge. “Understood,” he said, then hung the phone handset back in its cradle. “All trident missiles are loaded and armed, awaiting final order, captain,” he reported.
A heavy silence settled on the bridge as everyone turned their gazes to the captain, waiting for him to give the final order.
After more than thirty seconds passed, the captain ordered, “Fire, and may god have mercy upon our unworthy souls.”
“Three... two... one...” the weapons officer counted down. “Firing.”
The seals holding the blow hatches of the sub’s missile tubes released and a heavy thud shook the entire vessel. Then the crew felt as if they were suddenly twenty pounds lighter; the entire sub had been pushed down into deeper water as all of its missile tubes simultaneously released a burst of pressurized nitrogen that would carry their “passengers” to the surface, where the rockets would ignite and the missiles would begin orienting themselves for the long trip to their target.
After firing its nuclear payload dry, the submarine immediately performed a series of evasive maneuvers and emergency dives, quickly moving as far as it possibly could from the location it had launched the nukes from.
……
Somewhere in a classified location in Russia.
Giant pneumatic machines hissed to life, opening a heavy armored hatch concealed beneath a layer of soil. Dirt and detritus dropped into what seemed to be a bottomless hole as the two sides of the door folded open, dropping their layer of concealment into the missile silo beneath. As soon as the doors had fully opened, the low thud of a controlled pushing charge echoed out of the silo, followed closely by a missile, which ignited its rocket engine and began its climb to the thermosphere.
That was just one of the over 3,000 silos that, in conjunction with their nuclear attack submarines, comprised Russia’s 4,447 nuclear missiles; all of which had been simultaneously launched and were currently in their ascent phase.
“Why are we nuking an ocean?” one of the two people in the underground silo wondered.
“Who knows? There must be a reason behind it. Maybe it’s a warning shot or something,” the other person replied, then returned to reading a rather lurid romance novel. Now that their missile had been launched, the two of them could relax and do whatever they wanted as they awaited the truck that would soon come to pick them up.
……
The same general process was happening in every nuclear power as they all shot their nuclear arsenals almost completely empty. In the course of about a single hour, nearly every single nuclear weapon on the planet, roughly twelve thousand missiles and bombs in total, had been launched. The airstrikes had been authorized and launched hours before, and the operation was timed to have the bombers closely following the missiles—intercontinental or otherwise—as they began their descent phase and terminal maneuvers.
(Ed note: I couldn’t find an estimated count of the world’s nuclear arsenal as of 2017, but as of 2021, there were an estimated 13,080 nuclear weapons stockpiled in the nine nuclear powers. So I’m using that number as a guideline since there’s never been an accurate count.)
Due to the sheer number of missile launches and bombers, it was impossible to hide from the general population. People living near silos discovered the launch trails, and people beneath the flight path of the bombers saw flight after flight of distinctive, large aircraft flying overhead. Even some “lucky” passengers on cruise ships spotted trails reaching into the sky from the submarine-launched missiles.
First dozens, then hundreds, then thousands, then hundreds of thousands of videos were soon posted on the internet as everyone around the world uploaded their shocked reactions to the sightings. Fear and panic broke out as the news rapidly spread that total nuclear war had broken out, and doomsayers began preaching the end of the world in either nuclear fire or nuclear winter.
Riots broke out everywhere as people rushed to the stores to first panic buy everything they could, and then it devolved into outright looting and robbery as a kind of “every man for himself” thought infected the rioting crowds.
Soon, the violence became bloody as the first shot was fired, then more, and people began dying in droves as wannabe warlords cropped up in neighborhoods around the world. They had yet to even verify the news or listen to one of the still-absent government announcements, but to some doomsday preppers and other ammosexuals, the overwhelming nuclear launch was effectively the wettest of their wet dreams.
It hadn’t even been ten minutes since the launches had concluded, yet the situation had already devolved to such a low point. The launch itself was the trigger that released the valve on all of the stress that had been building since the announcement that humanity was no longer alone in the universe had been made.
