Chapters (74)
- Title Page
- Prologue
- JULY 1961
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- JULY 1962
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Preview: A Loyal Traitor
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
Despite years of work, Dixon and his team had failed to find a way to send data-heavy radio signals through the atmospheric barrier. This was why the Corona satellites relied on dropping capsules full of photographic film from the tips of their thick, cigar-shaped bodies, and why Alan Shepard had been blasted into near-orbit aboard Freedom 7 with a communications system that was essentially a jumped-up walkie-talkie.
‘We have the nation’s best scientific minds on this, Patrick. There’s not much more help I can get you.’
‘The president’s welcome to come down to Langley and lend a hand if he wants.’
‘Let’s not go down that road,’ Murphy said.
Part of Murphy’s job was keeping the president informed about strategic developments from the Corona programme; another part was stopping him from getting too personally involved.
Dixon looked down at the mess of papers on his desk. Each one was a pipe dream or dead end.
‘Why do I feel like I’ve got a sword dangling over my head?’ he asked.
‘Because you do,’ Murphy said. ‘But if it’s any consolation it’s over both our heads. A few photos in a metal tube every couple of weeks isn’t enough. He wants his parade down the Mall. And slightly more relevant to us, he wants to know what’s going on in Russia.’
‘Can’t he send up the U-2s again?’ Dixon asked.
‘Not an option.’
A year ago, Gary Powers’ U-2 spy plane had been shot down deep inside Russian territory by a rogue S75-Dvina missile. The incident hadn’t just embarrassed America and handed Russia a major political victory. It had also effectively ended the CIA’s aerial reconnaissance operations, and led directly to its interest in Corona.
The holy American trinity of government, military, and private industry had been experimenting with orbital reconnaissance since 1957. Under the codename Discoverer, Washington paid the RAND Corporation to build satellites, the Itek Corporation to design next-generation triple-lensed panoramic cameras, and Eastman Kodak to develop a new film stock that delivered three times the resolution of the best aerial photography film used in World War Two. The Air Force originally managed the Discoverer programme, but in May 1958 control was moved to the Advanced Research and Projects Agency, then when NASA was founded a few months later it was shifted again.
Progress was slow. Between January 1959 and May 1960, Discoverer attempted twelve satellite launches, and every single one was a failure. Two rockets never left the launchpad, five exploded before they reached orbit, and the five that did all malfunctioned. But as the shockwaves of the U-2 incident rippled around Washington throughout the summer of 1960, the CIA science and technology division was already taking over leadership of Discoverer and turning it into Corona.