The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(4)
The rocket’s computers took over, and all she could do now was watch and wait as the team leads ran the various preflight tests and reported back. She heard the magic word in her ear over and over.
“Flight systems nominal.”
“Oxygen burn nominal.”
“Launch processing system nominal.”
“Payload test conductor nominal.”
“Telemetry nominal.”
Nominal was the only word she ever wanted to hear during a launch. It meant everything was going according to plan, the launch sequence wasn’t meeting with any problems. Nominal meant more than normal in space talk. It meant everything was performing perfectly. With as many moving parts as it took to send a rocket into space, nominal represented the triumph of human achievement.
There had been a time when she was the one strapped into a tiny capsule and hurtled into orbit, the powerful thrust of the rocket taking her from zero to seventeen thousand miles per hour in less than eight minutes. But those days were past, and now Nevaeh ran Galactus Space Industries, a low-cost private provider to the European space arena. Launching telecommunications satellites into orbit was their bread and butter. She was responsible for eight launches a month, mostly sending European telecom satellites into a geostationary orbit, where they would boost signal strengths to increase cellular and Wi-Fi coverage for whichever company was sending up the satellite. With the success of Galactus, these nominal moments had become ordinary. Almost. But this time nominal was all she wanted to hear.
“This is Flight. T-minus one minute.”
Nevaeh couldn’t help it, she always held her breath. So much could happen in a single instant, so many things could go wrong.
In her ear, “T-minus ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five—”
The engines, already running in preflight mode, roared to life, billowing steam and fire, and lifted the rocket into the sky, making the ground shake. Nevaeh’s heart pumped hard as she watched the rocket—her special rocket—her focus now on the launch commander running through his postlaunch checklist. Cheers nearly drowned out his voice, but she listened carefully as he ticked off each benchmark.
Less than a minute later, the rocket was supersonic; another minute and the booster engines throttled back and separated from the main capsule that contained the twelve-foot-wide comms satellite.
Eight minutes after launch, the capsule was in orbit, and the fairing—the protective shield above the satellite—opened. The satellite was propelled into space, where it would take its place among the more than two thousand other satellites sending radio signals back down to Earth.
When the final stage broke away, there were cheers from the engineers in the flight center. Relief coursed through her. They’d done it. She looked down, saw that sometime during the launch she’d broken her pencil in two.
She grinned at the launch commander and rose and raised her fist to the rest of the room. She gave them a small bow and some applause of her own.
She called out, “Success. A beautiful launch. Thank you all for your hard work. I’ll see you for the next launch in two weeks.” She gave them all a thumbs-up and added, “Merci beaucoup.”
Nevaeh walked from the command center to her small office. Her primary office was, of course, at the Galactus headquarters in Lyon, France, but she maintained space in French Guiana when she was able to be here for launch supervision.
It now fell to her team of engineers to activate the satellite and triangulate it into its final position.
She smiled. Not one of the engineers, not one of the technicians, no one except Kiera Byrne, her bodyguard and companion, knew she’d altered the computer code to put this particular satellite into a spot selected by her—not the company who’d paid for it to be launched. There was a special payload on this run-of-the-mill satellite, and only she and Keira knew. No one else needed to know what was in the lead-lined box. Not until she was ready.
In two weeks’ time, her nuclear bomb hidden aboard the satellite was going to set off an electromagnetic pulse that would change the world, and Nevaeh would remake it in her own image.
CHAPTER TWO
An EMP is a high-intensity burst of electromagnetic energy caused by the rapid acceleration of charged particles. In an attack, these particles interact and send electrical systems into chaos in three ways: First, the electromagnetic shock disrupts electronics, such as sensors, communications systems, protective systems, computers, and other similar devices. The second component has a slightly smaller range and is similar in effect to lightning. Although protective measures have long been established for lightning strikes, the potential for damage to critical infrastructure from this component exists because it rapidly follows and compounds the first component. The final component is slower than the previous two, but has a longer duration. It is a pulse that flows through electricity transmission lines—damaging distribution centers and fusing power lines. The combination of the three components can easily cause irreversible damage to many electronic systems.
—www.heritage.org
As a woman in the space industry, one of the few female corporate leaders, Nevaeh had to be one step ahead of her male counterparts at all times. Even though she was light-years ahead of them intellectually, had experience none of them would ever have after her stint on the International Space Station—not to mention the multiple degrees and extensive schooling under her belt—she still had to work twice as hard to maintain her position as head of Galactus.