Shortly after Columbia's computer link went static, NORAD's radar determined that she was still in the sky and operational. It took NASA experts only moments thereafter to determine that Russian vessels off the coast were jamming the uplink, and that Buron was jamming the downlink. Unless the President was willing to give the order for the Coast Guard to disable the vessels, there was no way to re- establish communications. The President chose not to exercise this option, as it would not stop Buron from jamming the downlink.
At 17:12 EST, the blue phone in the White House Situation room rang. "Mr. President," announced CINC-NORAD, "We have detected a high altitude nuclear detonation over the Atlantic."
"Columbia's disposition?" inquired the President.
"Uncertain, Sir. The shuttles and bogies are so close, our instruments can't isolate who survived or who was responsible."
"We had suspected the bogie to be an orbital nuclear weapon from the start," offered the National Security Adviser.
The President surveyed his staff. The next move could mean the difference between success or failure, life or death. He turned his attention to the silent, omnipresent military officer seated in the corner. Across the man's lap was the black brief case that contained the launch and recall codes necessary for nuclear war. To open it, was to open Pandora's Box, but the President knew what step had to be taken.
"Major, advise the E-4 to prepare for take-off. I believe it's time to carry-out the Executive Evacuation Plan."

Colonel Cartwright's cockpit was showered by shrads of glass from the explosion of the navigation system's video screen. An electrical fire flashed across the control panel, but quickly burned off all the available oxygen in the small compartment. Cartwright could feel his flight suit losing pressure, but felt that the integrity of the airframe itself had not been violated.
He contained the damage as fast as possible and switched on the ground radio. "Columbia, this is Cartwright... Do you read?"
Hawkins stood stunned, as the lights began to come back on in the cabin. "Cartwright, this is Hawkins... How did you get up here?"
"Long story. What's your damage?"
"Miller and Ellis are bringing systems back on-line now. We seem to have pulled through."
"Roger. I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a little problem here. See you at Edwards. Cartwright Out."
Hawkins signed off and switched to intercom. "Spencer, Dillion. Are you two okay?"
"Yes, sir," stated Spencer from the airlock. "We're a little dazed, but okay."
"Then get back out there, tie that thing down, and let's get this bird on the ground."
"Hawkins! You can't honestly believe I'm going to leave the Russians up here to die," interrupted Miller.
"That was what I had planned... Our orders were to secure the bogie and bring it down immediately. I'll admit you were right to execute the electrical shut-down, but that only proves that you can follow orders. Let's do what we were sent here to do, and go home."
"But what about the Buron?"
"That's the Russians' problem: let them solve it however they want."

For three minutes, the President fought back the tension that was trying to escape him. He knew he had to keep his cool: his hardest and most important decisions were yet to come. A Secret Service agent entered the room and advised the staff that the helicopter was ready to fly them to Andrews and the safety of the E-4. The President reluctantly rose from his seat and started toward the door.
"General Hanson on the phone, Sir," announced the communications sergeant.
"Yes, General."
"Mr. President, Columbia has established one way voice link with Mission Control." Statements of excitement were exchanged around the room. Some slapped each other on the back and shook hands in celebration, others simply hung their heads in relief. The President, realizing they were not out of danger, ordered the room to silence.
"Her commander reports Buron engaged them with a beam weapon destroying one auxiliary power unit. Colonel Cartwright fired a single missile, disabling the Russian ship. The shuttle was able to snag the bogie, and both she and the X-15 are on their way down."
"And the Russians?" asked the President.
"The ship appears to be dead, Sir." As if struck by lightning, the President's staff realized that the victory in space was neither clear nor decisive.
"Sir," started the Air Force Chief of Staff, "Shall I order us to DEFCON 1?"
Everyone stared in reverent silence at the President, and he in turn watched the actions of the communications sergeant. The man was hurriedly scratching the text of an incoming message: a message the President could have quoted without ever seeing. When the man was finished he saw the President's eyes upon him. "Read it," the Commander in Chief ordered.
"Message from the Kremlin: 'Use of a nuclear device in space is an intolerable offense. The destruction of the Russian vessel Buron is a clear signal of the American government's intention to destroy the peaceful people of Russia.' End of transmission."
"I never thought there would actually be a declaration of nuclear war," said the President, solemnly. The blue phone rang for the last time, interrupting the President's concentration.
"Sir," called CINC-NORAD over the speaker, "We have positive contact on multiple inbound bombers."
"Thank you, General. I want you to change our Defense Condition to DEFCON 3."
"Sir?" question CINC-NORAD.
"Recall our bombers," directed the President to the Air Force Chief of Staff. "We still have one chance to pull this off. Call a press conference for fifteen minutes. Get Hanson back on the phone. Sergeant: Send the following message to the Russians..."

As the X-15 deadsticked into the atmosphere at Mach 7, the cockpit heated to an unbearable temperature. Cartwright's flight suit provided little protection and it required every ounce of his concentration to hold the correct attitude. If his nose dropped so much as a single degree, the aircraft would accelerate, overheat, and disintegrate. He knew there was no hope of reaching California, so he chose to follow Captain Lawrence's advice and ditch in the Western Pacific.
The forces acting on the X-15 changed so rapidly as it passed through the layers of the atmosphere that as soon as Cartwright was sure he had the plane under control, it would begin to buck once again and he would have to change the trim settings. His eyes began to blur and he could feel his mind slipping away. Still too high and fast to eject, he summoned the last of his will power to fight the heat.
Through dimming eyes, he saw the mach meter cross the six mark. He accelerated his breathing to help cool his body, and the craft slowed to five. The heat was still impossibly hot, but he knew he had to continue to bleed off the speed until he was subsonic.
He began to wag the X-15's tail by alternately tapping the rudder peddles in a move called 'jinking.' It was a dangerous thing to do at Mach 4, but if he didn't act quick, he wouldn't remain conscious to see Mach 3. Without the navigation computer, he had no idea where he was. Unable to force himself to talk, he switched the radio to Naval Search And Rescue's frequency and keyed the mike.
Slowly, his airspeed crossed Mach 2. From his altitude of twenty thousand feet, he caught a glimpse of something to his left. He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating, but at his present altitude and speed, it could only be one thing. He dipped the aircraft's left wing in a shallow turn, and rolled out on target. The shimmering sea of blue was interrupted by a single speck of gray...
Cartwright pulled hard on the stick, the aircraft shot into a climb, and the airspeed broke Mach 1. He released the stick and felt desperately for the ejection seat's ripcord. When he found it, there was no time to react: the blast threw him, the seat, and the canopy clear of the aircraft. The chair automatically unbuckled his harness and pushed him free of its vacuum as it tumbled. He was totally oblivious of the world around him for several moments, as his brain spun dizzily with his falling body.
Without the oxygen that was supplied from the X-15's life support system, Cartwright was beginning to suffocate. He instinctively reached for the helmet and broke the seal around the neck. The speed of the rushing air ripped the helmet from his head. Before he could recover from the sudden blast of cool air striking his face at nearly two hundred miles an hour, his parachute's automatic deployment device engaged. The shock of the chute opening was more than his embattled body could stand, and he passed out.
He didn't see the X-15 make it's final landing without him.

Breaking all rules and procedures, albeit on General Hanson's orders, the crew of Columbia was allowed to leave the shuttle immediately after landing at Edwards. Captain Morrison and Lawrence had carried a portable TV to the landing site in their jeep and asked the crew to gather round. "The General thought you needed to see this as soon as possible," explained Morrison as he tuned it to the local network channel.
Regular programming had been interrupted and the White House Press Secretary was just stepping to the lectern. "I have a short statement to read regarding today's launch of the space shuttle Columbia."
"At 1:32 PM Eastern Standard Time the space shuttle Columbia was launched from Cape Canaveral at the request of the President. The President had been contacted by his Russian counterpart in regard to an accident aboard the Russian shuttle Buron that had rendered the ship unable to enter the Earth's atmosphere. Due to the explosion of an auxiliary power unit, Columbia was unable to assist the Russian crew before making a successful emergency landing minutes ago at Edwards Air Force Base."
"However, in one of the greatest displays of international cooperation and brotherhood in the exploration of space, the shuttle Atlantis was launched at 2:42 PM, EST, and is at this moment carrying out the rescue of the Russian crew. The government of the United States is proud to be able to assist the Russian people, and will render complete assistance in repairing the Buron in orbit."
The Press Secretary left the screen without answering any questions, and Morrison turned off the TV. "Gentlemen-- and lady--" offered Morrison, noticing Captain Mia and wondering where she had been all his life, "This is your cover story. We will coach you on what to say to the press. Nothing other than what has been stated happened."

The crew of Columbia was given a chance to shower, change, and eat, before being escorted to the roof of the building to watch the landing of Atlantis. Every family at Edwards, hundreds from the town, and journalists from every major news service had come to witness the landing. It was the largest turn-out since the first shuttle launch over a decade earlier.
"Any news of Cartwright?" asked Hawkins, upon joining Morrison and Lawrence.
"We just received word from the Carrier Nimitz: they scooped him out of the Pacific two hours ago. He was pretty banged-up, but they expect him to live," explained Lawrence.
"It's a miracle he found the ship at all," added Morrison.
"How are you going to keep the carrier's crew quiet about the X-15?" asked Mia.
"Cartwright punched-out at twenty thousand feet. They were so concerned with rescuing him, they didn't bother to chase down his aircraft. They have no idea what he was flying, and we have no intentions of telling them," offered Morrison.
"You're not going to be able to keep this under wraps," said Miller, coldly. "The civilians at the Cape and Houston know what happened."
"Actually not, sir. We have you to thank for that," teased Lawrence. "Apparently, you brought the civilians in without telling them about the bogie. Hanson only released the information to his officers on a need-to-know basis. Since NORAD didn't provide Mission Control with the bogie's tracking data, they didn't know what the shuttles were after. Truthfully, less than a hundred people know the bogie exists."
"Lawrence, what will they do with the bogie?" asked Mia.
Lawrence and Morrison laughed as if at some secret joke. "Well, there is a top secret, climate controlled hanger, that just became available here at Edwards."
The conversation was broken by the sonic boom of Atlantis as she passed before the crowd and began an arcing turn toward the landing site. The chase planes nestled in beside the craft and guided her to a textbook perfect landing. Once stopped, the ground crew ensured the vehicle was safe, attached a towing tractor, and pulled the orbiter to the concrete apron.
As the boarding ladder was rolled into position, the band began to play. The door swung open, and Shuttle Commander Bradshaw stepped out of the ship to be greeted by the cheering crowd. Next out of the door was the commander of the Buron, who could not understand why the crowd was still cheering at his appearance.
Bradshaw grabbed the Russian officer's hand and held it high as a sign of solidarity. "Smile, you bastard: you'll get your official greeting later." The Russian forced a smile and waved to the crowd.

The President felt ridiculous in the paper clean-suit he had been asked to don before seeing the bogie. He was relieved to find there would be no cameras to record the image of him in the ill-fitting garment, elastic booties, and pointed hat with mask. He stepped from the dressing room, and was escorted down a hall to the sterile chamber that had been constructed inside Edward's Hanger Two.
The object was resting, nose-down, inside a specially constructed scaffold. Several holes had been cut in the sides of the device, exposing the inside for inspection. Dr. Chandler greeted the President and lead him to the object for closer examination.
"You are certain of your findings?" asked the President.
"Absolutely, sir."
"Any idea where it came from?"
"We have no way of determining where it came from, only that it did not come from this planet."
"I see. Have you been able to determine how it reached Earth?"
"No, sir."
"Do you know what it was meant to do?"
"I agree with Captain Mia's theory that the device is a survey satellite. Unfortunately, the blast from Colonel Cartwright's missile rendered the device inoperable. The technology is way ahead of our own, but with time, I am certain we will learn from it."
The President thanked Dr. Chandler for the tour and stepped from the chamber. Simply knowing the object was an alien probe gave the President goose-pimples, but something he had read in Captain Mia's initial report was worrying him even more. He removed the clean suit, and rejoined his staff in the hanger.
"Are they here?" he asked an aide.
"Yes sir," offered the man as he led the President to the two uniformed figures near the door.
Cartwright and Mia saluted, and the President introduced himself as if it were necessary. "Captain, you stated in your initial report that this was either an orbital laser or a spy satellite. Now you believe it to be a survey satellite?"
"Sir. The only difference between a spy satellite and a survey satellite is the resolution of the images. If this were an American satellite, I would estimate the resolution to be somewhere between incredible and phenomenal," Mia explained.
"And in a polar orbit, this would have photographed the Russians also?"
"That is correct, Sir."
"Giving the aliens in-depth photo reconnaissance of both U.S. and Russian defenses?"
"Yes sir," answered Mia uneasily.
"I see... Colonel: it was unfortunate you had such a rough flight."
"Another day at the office, Sir," offered Cartwright with a smile.
"Dr. Chandler says your weapon effectively crippled the bogie, as it did Buron. I see that as good news: it means our alien friends are not invincible. What news is there of the X-15?" asked the President.
"The deep sea recovery team has located what is left of the wreckage on the ocean floor. The last I heard, they were talking to Systems Command as to whether it was worth recovering."
The President nodded silently. "Colonel, I would like you and Captain Mia to work with Systems Command in developing a new orbital interceptor. I want us to be better prepared when this situation comes up again."
"Again, Sir?"
"Oh, yes," stated the President, as he exited the hanger. "It's just a matter of time..."