Wild Fire

by Nelson DeMille

  Madox went on, “Harry, I think that your physical presence in this room is a strong reminder that there are forces in the government that are too curious about who we are and what we’re doing. I think time has run out.” He looked at the other four men, who nodded, almost reluctantly.

  Madox said, “So, gentlemen, if you have no further objections, Mr. Muller stays with us so we can keep an eye on him.” He looked at Harry. “I want to make it perfectly clear to you that although you have been detained here, no harm will come to you. We just need to keep you here until Project Green begins. Perhaps two or three days. Understand?”

  Harry Muller understood that he might be dead in less than two or three days. But on another level, looking at these men, who in his world of police work were not the murdering type, he thought that Madox might be telling the truth. He couldn’t believe—or make himself believe—that guys like this would go ahead and kill him. He glanced at Landsdale, who seemed like the only one in the room who might actually be dangerous.

  “Mr. Muller? Do you understand?”

  Harry nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Good. Don’t let your imagination get the best of you. What you’re going to hear in the next hour or so is so far beyond your wildest imagination that you’ll forget about yourself anyway.”

  Harry looked at Madox, who still seemed cool and smart-mouthed, but Harry could also see that Madox was a little hyper and worried about something.

  Harry regarded the other four men, and he thought he’d never seen guys who were so powerful looking so worried. The older man, Dunn, the president’s adviser, was pale, and Harry noticed that Dunn’s hands were trembling. Hawkins, the general, and Wolffer, the defense guy, looked pretty grim. Only Landsdale appeared relaxed, but Harry could see he was putting it on.

  Whatever was going on here, Harry thought, it was real, and it was something that was scaring the shit out of these guys. Harry took some comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only one in the room who was scared shitless.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Bain Madox stood and said, “I call this emergency meeting of the Executive Board of the Custer Hill Club to order.”

  Still standing, he continued, “Gentlemen, as you know, because of the one-year anniversary of 9/11, the Office of Homeland Security has put the nation on Alert Level Orange. The purpose of this meeting is to decide if we should go ahead with Project Green, which will reduce the alert level to that color. Permanently.” Madox looked at Harry. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Might put you out of a job.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “Good. Now, if the Board will bear with me, I’d like to get Harry up and running on this. In fact, we can all benefit from some perspective before we make any decisions.” He looked at Harry and asked, “You’ve heard of Mutually Assured Destruction?”

  “I . . . yeah . . .”

  “During the Cold War, if the Soviets launched nuclear missiles against us, we would, without debate, launch our arsenal of nuclear weapons against them. Thousands of nuclear warheads would rain down on both countries, assuring mutual destruction. Remember that?”

  Harry nodded.

  Madox continued, “Paradoxically, the world was actually safer then. No hesitation on our part, and no political debates. This strategy had a beautiful simplicity to it. The radar images of thousands of nuclear missiles headed our way meant we were dead. The only moral question—if any—was, Do we kill tens of millions of them before we all die? You and I know the answer to that, but there were fuzzy-headed people in Washington who thought that revenge was not a justification for us destroying a big part of the planet—that no purpose would be served by obliterating the innocent men, women, and children whose government had just assured our obliteration. Well, the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction—MAD—removed any such questions by making our response automatic. We didn’t have to rely on a president who lost his nerve or had a moral crisis, or who was out playing golf or getting laid somewhere.”

  There were a few polite chuckles.

  Mr. Madox continued, “The primary reason that MAD worked was that it was unambiguous and symmetrical. Each side knew that a nuclear first strike by one would set off a counterstrike by the other of equal or overwhelming force, which would destroy the very civilization of both nations.” He added, “That would leave places like Africa, China, and South America to inherit what was left of the Earth. Pretty depressing, don’t you think?”

  Harry remembered how the world was before the collapse of the Soviet Union. Nuclear war was pretty scary, but he never really believed it was going to happen.

  Madox seemed to be reading his mind and said, “But this never happened, and never would. Even the most insane Soviet dictator could not contemplate this scenario. Despite the rantings of left-wing pacifists and pinhead intellectuals, Mutually Assured Destruction actually assured that the world was safe from nuclear Armageddon. Right?”

  Harry thought, What the hell is this guy getting at?

  Bain Madox sat down, lit a cigarette, and asked Harry, “Have you ever heard of something called Wild Fire?”

  “No.”

  Madox looked at him closely, then explained, “A secret government protocol. Have you ever heard these words used in passing, or in any context?”

  “No.”

  “I wouldn’t think so. This secret protocol is known only at the highest levels of government. And by us. And now by you—if you pay attention.”

  Paul Dunn, the presidential adviser, interjected, “Bain, do we need to talk about this in front of Mr. Muller?”

  Bain Madox stared at Dunn and replied, “As I said, this is a good exercise for all of us. Very shortly, we’re going to make a decision that will change the world as we know it, and the history of the world for the next thousand years. The least we can do is explain ourselves to Mr. Muller, who represents the nation we say we are going to save. Not to mention explaining ourselves to ourselves at this critical juncture.”

  Landsdale, the CIA man, said to everyone, “You have to let Bain run it his way. You should know that by now.”

  Edward Wolffer added, “More important, this is a transformative moment in the history of the world, and I wouldn’t want Bain, or anyone, to ever think we didn’t give it the time that’s equal to its importance.”

  Madox turned to his old friend. “Thank you, Ed. No one may ever know what happened here today, but we know, and God knows. And if someday the world does know, then we need to justify ourselves to God and to man.”

  Landsdale commented dryly, “Let’s not tell God.”

  Madox ignored him and drew on his cigarette. “The first Islamic terrorist attacks began in the 1970s, as you recall.”

  Bain Madox began with the Munich Olympics Massacre, and then rattled off a list of thirty years of airplane hijackings, bombings, kidnappings, executions, and mass murder by Islamic jihadists.

  The men in the room remained silent, but a few nodded in remembrance of one or another terrorist attack.

  Harry Muller, too, recalled almost every attack that Madox mentioned, and what surprised him was how many there were over the last thirty years. He was surprised, too, that he had forgotten so many of them—even the big ones, like the car bomb attack on the Marine barracks in Lebanon that killed 241 Americans, or the bomb on board Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie that killed hundreds of people.

  Harry felt himself getting angrier as each attack was chronicled, and he thought that if a terrorist—or any Muslim—were brought into the room, the guy would be ripped apart by everyone there. Madox knew how to inflame the crowd.

  In fact, Madox looked around the table and said, “Every one of us here had a friend, or knew someone, who was killed in the World Trade Center or the Pentagon.” He addressed General Hawkins. “Your nephew, Captain Tim Hawkins, died in the Pentagon.” Next he spoke to Scott Landsdale. “You had two CIA colleagues who died in the World Trade Center. Correc
t?”

  Landsdale nodded.

  Madox turned to Harry. “And you? Did you lose anyone that day?”

  Harry replied, “My boss . . . Captain Stein and some other guys I knew died in the North Tower . . .”

  “My condolences,” said Madox, who then concluded his recitation of the atrocities, brutalities, and violence against America and the West. “This was all something new under the sun, and neither the world nor the United States knew how to react. Many people thought it would just go away. Obviously, it did not. It just got worse. In fact, the Western world wasn’t equipped to counter these terrorist attacks, and we seemed to lack the will to respond to these people who were murdering us. Even when the United States was attacked on its own soil—the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center—we did nothing.” He looked at Harry. “Correct?”

  “Yeah . . . but that changed things—”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Harry said, “Well, 9/11 changed everything. We’re more on top of—”

  “You know, Harry, you and your ATTF friends, and the whole FBI, CIA, Defense Intelligence, British MI5 and MI6, Interpol, and the rest of the useless European intelligence services could spend the rest of their fucking lives chasing Islamic terrorists, and it wouldn’t make much difference.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “I know. Last year, it was the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Next year, it will be the White House and the Capitol Building.” Madox paused, blew smoke rings, then said, “And one year, it will be an entire American city. A nuclear bomb. Do you doubt that?”

  Harry didn’t reply.

  “Harry?”

  “No. I don’t doubt that.”

  “Good. Neither does anyone at this table. That’s why we’re here.” He asked Harry, “How would you prevent that from happening?”

  “Well . . . actually, I sometimes work on the NEST team—the Nuclear Emergency Support Team. You know about that?”

  Bain Madox smiled. “Harry, you’re sitting here with the deputy secretary of defense, a top national security adviser to the president of the United States, a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the CIA liaison to the White House. If there’s anything we don’t know, I’d be very surprised.”

  “Then why do you keep asking me questions?”

  Madox seemed a little annoyed. “Let me tell you about NEST—known as the volunteer fire department of the nuclear age. Very quaint, and about as effective. A thousand or so volunteers from the fields of science, government, and law enforcement who sometimes disguise themselves as tourists and businesspeople. They walk or drive around American cities and other sensitive targets, such as dams, nuclear reactors, and so forth, carrying their gamma-ray and neutron detectors hidden inside briefcases, golf bags, beer coolers, and whatever. Correct?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you ever find an atomic bomb?”

  “Not yet.”

  “And you never will. There could be an explosive nuclear device or a dirty bomb sitting in an apartment on Park Avenue with the timer going, and the chances of NEST or Harry Muller discovering that bomb is near zero. Correct?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes you get lucky.”

  “That’s not very reassuring, Harry.” Madox said, “The question is, How does the American government prevent a weapon of mass destruction—specifically, a nuclear device, planted by terrorists—from obliterating an American city?” He looked at Harry and said, “I want you to draw a lesson from the Cold War strategy of Mutually Assured Destruction, and tell me how we can keep terrorists from planting and exploding a nuclear bomb in an American city. This is not a rhetorical question. Answer me, please.”

  Harry replied, “Okay, I guess like with the Russians—if they knew we were going to nuke them, then they wouldn’t nuke us.”

  Madox replied, “True, but the nature of the enemy has changed. The global terrorist network is not like the old Soviet Union. The Soviets were an empire with a government, cities, hard targets, and soft targets. All laid out in a strike plan drawn up by the Pentagon and known to the Soviets. Islamic terrorism, on the other hand, is very amorphous. If an Islamic terrorist organization detonates a nuke in New York or Washington, who do we retaliate against?” He stared at Harry. “Who?”

  Harry thought a moment. “Baghdad.”

  “Why Baghdad? How would we know if Saddam Hussein had anything to do with a nuclear attack on America?”

  Harry replied, “What difference does it make? One Arab city is as good as the next. They’ll all get the message.”

  “Indeed, they would. But here’s a better plan. During the Reagan administration, the American government devised and put into place this secret protocol named Wild Fire. What Wild Fire is, is the nuclear obliteration of the entire Islamic world by means of American nuclear missiles, in response to a nuclear terrorist attack on America. How does that sound to you?”

  Harry didn’t respond.

  “You can speak freely. You’re among friends. Wouldn’t you, deep in your heart, like to see Sandland turned into a sea of molten glass?”

  Harry looked around the table, then replied, “Yes.”

  Bain Madox nodded. “So, there you have it. Harry Muller, who is an average American in most respects, would like to see Islam eradicated in a nuclear holocaust.”

  Harry Muller was happy to go along with Madox’s bullshit—and it was just that. Bullshit. Right-wing loony fantasy talk that probably gave these guys hard-ons. He couldn’t see any connection between what Madox was saying and what Madox was able to do. It reminded him of his days in the NYPD Intelligence Division, when he’d interrogate left-wing radicals who talked about world revolution and the rising of the masses, whatever the hell that was. His boss used to call it pinko wet dreams. He looked around the table again. On the other hand, these guys didn’t seem like they were jerking themselves off, or jerking him off. In fact, they looked serious about something, and they were important guys.

  Madox broke into Harry’s thoughts and said to him, “How do we get the United States government to put a quick end to terrorism, and to this clear and imminent nuclear threat to the American homeland? Well, I’ll tell you. The government has to launch Wild Fire. Right?”

  Harry didn’t answer, and Bain Madox informed him, “There are about seventy suitcase-size nuclear weapons missing from the inventory of the old Soviet Union. Did you know that?”

  Harry replied, “Sixty-seven.”

  “Thank you. Did you ever wonder if any of those suitcase nukes has gotten into the hands of Islamic terrorists?”

  “We think they have.”

  “Well, you’re right. They have. I’ll tell you something you don’t know—something that fewer than twenty people in the world know—one of those suitcase nukes was discovered last year in Washington, D.C. Not by a NEST team having a lucky day, but by the FBI acting on a tip.”

  Harry didn’t respond, but thought about that, and a cold chill ran down his spine.

  Madox continued, “I’m sure there are a few more suitcase nukes that have been smuggled into the country, probably through our non-existent border with Mexico.” He smiled at Harry. “There’s probably one sitting in an apartment across the street from your office.”

  “No, I don’t think so. We’ve swept the area.”

  “Well, I’m just making a point. Don’t take me literally. The question is, Why hasn’t a missing Soviet nuclear suitcase bomb been detonated in an American city? Do you think Islamic terrorists would have any moral or ethical qualms about obliterating an American city and killing a million innocent men, women, and children?”

  “No.”

  “Me, neither. And neither does anyone else after 9/11. But I’ll tell you why it probably hasn’t happened and won’t happen. Because for Wild Fire to be a reliable deterrent, as Mutually Assured Destruction was, it cannot be kept a complete secret. In fact, since the Wild Fire plan was implemented, the heads of all Islamic governments have been notified
by succeeding administrations in Washington that an attack on an American city with a weapon of mass destruction would automatically ensure an American nuclear retaliation against fifty to one hundred cities and other targets in the Islamic world.”

  Harry said, “Good.”

  Bain Madox continued, “As these gentlemen here can attest to, Harry, Wild Fire is seen by the American government as a very strong incentive for these countries to control the terrorists in their midst, to induce these countries to share information with American intelligence agencies, and to do whatever they need to do to keep themselves from being vaporized. In fact, the tip about the nuke in Washington came from the Libyan government. So, it seems to be working.”

  “Great.”

  Madox added, “Something like NEST is a pathetic defensive response to nuclear terror. Wild Fire is a pro-active response. It is a gun to the heads of Islamic countries—a gun that will go off if they fail to keep their terrorist friends from going nuclear. Undoubtedly most, if not all, terrorist organizations have been warned of this by the Islamic governments that harbor, aid, and have contact with them. Whether the terrorists believe this or not is another question. So far, they seem to believe it, which is probably why we haven’t been attacked by weapons of mass destruction. What do you think, Harry?”

  “Makes sense to me.”

  “Me, too. The Islamic governments have also been informed that Wild Fire is hardwired—that is, no sitting American president can alter or cancel this retaliation against Islam. This keeps our enemies from trying to analyze each president to see if he—or she—has any balls. The president is pretty much out of the equation after a nuke goes off in America. Just like during the Cold War.” He turned to Paul Dunn and asked, “Correct?”

  Dunn replied, “Correct.”

  Madox looked at Harry. “You seem lost in thought. What are you thinking about?”

  “Well . . . I’m sure somebody in the government thought about this, but wouldn’t fifty or a hundred nukes in the Mideast kind of fuck up the oil thing?”