HARRIS (Detonation)

by Eldon Kellogg

  His wife began to sob as Jonathan dropped to his knees.

  "Please, whatever you want to know, I'll tell you. Please don't hurt them," Jonathan said.

  "Good! We have an understanding. Your wife and your children will be escorted into your bedroom while we start our conversation. Bǎohù tā bìng ràng tā zuò zài yǐzi shàng (Secure him and sit him in a chair)," Aiguo said, while Chonglin lifted the wife by the arm, and pointed toward an open bedroom door.

  "Get up," Aiguo said, while stepping forward and pointing his weapon at Jonathan's head.

  Jonathan stood up and placed his arms behind his back.

  As he felt the tye wrap being secured around his wrists, he thought, "Holy crap! Was that Chinese? What the hell is going on?"

  Aiguo sat in the far chair as Jonathan was dropped into the chair opposite him. Bingwen stood behind Jonathan with his left hand resting at the nape of the security guard's neck.

  "Sergeant Jonathan Paul Davies, age 32, formerly of the 3rd US Infantry Division. You are an Iraq veteran with a Silver Star for gallantry. Your father was a Vietnam veteran. But then he came home and drank himself to death. Perhaps it was guilt for the atrocities committed by him and other US forces. Your grandfather was also a veteran of the 3rd Infantry Division during the Korean War. We call it the War to Resist US Aggression. Your family has a history of invading other countries and murdering the civilians there," Aiguo said.

  "Fuck you! We all served honorably," Jonathan said, then choked back other words as Aiguo raised his pistol and pointed it at Jonathan's head.

  "Sergeant Davies, is your wife right handed or left handed? Answer the question, please," Aiguo asked.

  "Right handed . . ." Jonathan said, as tears began to well up in his eyes.

  "Please, don't hurt her. Please! I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean it," he pleaded.

  "Chonglin, break the pinkie finger on her left hand," Aiguo said, pistol still leveled at Jonathan's forehead.

  Jonathan heard a thud, then his girls screamed as their mother pleaded with her captor. Then she screamed in agony.

  "That was a lesson, Sergeant Davies. I am a kind man. I will treat you and your family well . . . as long as you cooperate. If you resist me, or don't provide the information that I request of you, then your family will suffer. This is the last time I will ask this question. Do we have an understanding?" Aiguo said.

  Jonathan could hear his children and wife crying in the bedroom.

  "I'll do whatever you want. I'll keep my mouth shut. Just don't hurt them again," Jonathan said, his voice shaking with rage and fear.

  "Excellent! I know all about you and your family history. I have selected you to assist me in a project that I have. This project will go on for some time. This means that you will continue to go to work, and then come home. Your family will be under my . . . protection, during this entire time. If you tell anyone about our arrangement, your family will die," Aiguo said, lowering the pistol and returning it to his holster.

  "What do you want to know?" Jonathan asked, knowing that he was in a trap with no way out.

  "Many things, Sergeant Davies, many things. So let's get started," Aiguo said.

  CHAPTER 23

  Central Intelligence Agency

  Mission Center for Weapons and Counterproliferation

  Office of Director Janet Davidson

  Manassas, Virginia, USA

  July 21, 2017

  1000 hours EST

  "Yes, Director, I understand your frustration. I'm feeling the same thing. When I was a little girl, my parents used to hide small chocolate Easter eggs inside the house. They would give me an empty basket, and I would have to find all the eggs. There were always 33 eggs because that's how old Jesus was when he was crucified. There were years when I would find an egg months later. It was extremely frustrating," Amanda said, as she paced in front of Janet's desk.

  Janet sighed while shaking her head, and then said, "Agent Langford, it's not my frustration, it's the President's. It's been over eight weeks since you and Detective Morehead made that find at the Virginia gas station. Since then, we have nothing."

  "I know, I really thought that we had a verified breakthrough. We just needed to throw enough people at the problem and we'd find more . . . eggs," Amanda said.

  "It's also been three weeks since we received the file from the Chinese. We've unearthed more Chinese agents and safe houses, but no weapon, and none of the personnel inserted by General Kung," Janet said.

  "I know. A combined task force of CIA, Homeland and FBI personnel have made over two dozen raids in the Southeast and found nothing related to this case," Amanda said.

  "Amanda, the President is becoming desperate. Rumors of this whole thing are running wild in certain offices in Congress. There are hints on different networks that something dangerous is going on inside the country. Just like us, some reporters are starting to pick up all the pieces. This whole thing is set to explode, no pun intended. If we don't find something this week, the President told Clarisse that he's going public," Janet said, while standing up and walking to the window behind her desk.

  "Director, I hate to say this, but that might be for the best. We're stuck. For some reason, this list that the Chinese provided isn't panning out. Either they're holding back, or Kung had assets that they don't know about. At least if the President goes public, then we'll have 300 million additional sets of eyes helping us," Amanda said.

  "And riots, a stock market plunge, and calls for the President's head," Janet said.

  "I know, ever since the 'hanging chad' election back in 2000, both parties have been at each other's throats. They don't even pretend to cooperate anymore. They can't see how much it hurts the country," Amanda said.

  "True, but our mission hasn't changed. We still have a duty to protect the nation and the American people," Janet said, her back turned, still staring out the window.

  "Amanda . . . I feel it in my bones. They've had so long to plan. We've heard nothing from them, no threats, no demands . . . nothing. You have a nuclear background. What can they do with one weapon, and a small one at that? What would you do if you were in their position? In the Marines we called a situation like this a 'Force Multiplier'. How do you make something big out of something small?" Janet said, as she turned and stared at Amanda.

  "My background isn't in weapons. My degree is in nuclear power, civilian use of . . ." Amanda said, and then stopped, staring at nothing as her mind began to spin a horrifying scenario.

  "You said, 'force multiplier'. I'd blow up a nuke plant with a nuclear bomb. That would be a big increase in lethality. You'd add the plant's radioactive material to the fallout," Amanda said, as she raised her eyes and stared at Janet.

  "How many nuke plants are there in the Southeast?" Janet asked, as her heart began to pound in her chest.

  "Over 20 different sites, as I remember," Amanda said, while pulling her phone out of her satchel.

  "Some of the sites have one unit. Some have as many as three, but all of them are heavily guarded. They have been since 9/11," Amanda said, while keying in a search.

  "There are 31 units at 18 sites. That's south of Alexandria and east of the Mississippi. As I said, all of these locations are heavily guarded. The security of these places is tested periodically by US Special Forces. They do mock assaults to test the validity of the security at each site," Amanda said.

  "We're still just guessing. This is just another theory, but it makes sense. Blow up a nuclear power plant with a nuclear weapon. If it was me, I'd go after the biggest site . . . the one with the most units. Clarisse is coordinating all the various agencies in this hunt. I'll give her a call and see what she thinks," Janet said.

  Amanda's mind was already in overdrive. Different possibilities were flowing through her faster than she could evaluate each one. Then a face appeared, unbidden, Major Anthony Thompson's face. She had a strange feeling as she remembered him, then cast the feeling aside.

  "No, not now!
What's wrong with you? He's still mourning his wife. Focus!" she told herself, as she turned and headed back toward her office.

  "Amanda, flesh out your hunch. Look at every site as a potential target. If you need help, contact the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, the Pentagon, whatever you need," Janet said, as Amanda nodded, and left the Director's office.

  CHAPTER 24

  3400 Avent Ferry Road

  New Hill, North Carolina

  July 21, 2017

  1815 hours EST

  Security Sergeant Jonathan Davies put his 2010 Nissan Frontier truck in gear and backed away from the house. He could see the leader of the men who had taken over his life standing in the shadows under the carport. Jonathan had managed only two hours sleep, and knew that the lack of sleep would haunt him ten hours from now. But he didn't care about sleep. He didn't care about his job. He turned the truck around, and stopped at the end of his driveway. He stared at Shadow Ridge Baptist Church across the street. He had been raised as a Southern Baptist. One of the reasons he had bought this house was the church across the street. He found great comfort inside its wooden, white-painted walls. Every Sunday they would all get dressed up, walk down the driveway together, cross the street, and attend church. The congregation was small, only 80 members, but all were involved. The building had been built in 1870 and had always been a house of the Lord.

  "God, please help us. We are surrounded by evil, Lord," Jonathan prayed, knowing that the man was still standing in the shadows behind him, staring at his truck.

  Ephesians 6: 12-13 popped into Jonathan's mind.

  "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore, put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand," he whispered.

  As he turned left onto Avent Ferry Road, he felt his heart lighten a little, but the dilemma was still there.

  "What do I do now? My mind says go directly to the Shift Lieutenant and tell him what happened. A SWAT Team will appear around my house within hours. Those bastards will be killed or captured," Jonathan said, while stopping at the intersection, turning right and heading down New Hill-Holleman Road.

  "Maybe they won't hurt my family. They'll just use them as bargaining chips to get away. They'd have to be crazy to hurt them if they had a chance to get away," he said, while wiping away tears.

  "Oh dear God, help me . . . they are crazy. They're fanatics, like mujahedeen. This is all about the plant. They want to do something to Harris. If I turn them in, I'll never see my family again," he said, and began pounding the steering wheel in frustration.

  "I can't risk it. I'd go insane if I lost them all. This must be how Job felt as his life fell apart. I have to give them what they want. I'll play along until I get a chance. When the time comes, I will be ruthless and strike them down," Jonathan said, while his truck was crossing the bridge over Harris Lake.

  Small fishing boats were on either side. A man held up his beer as if in mocking tribute . . . to a traitor.

  His mind was torn by conflicting emotions. The soldier in him felt duty bound to protect the plant, the father, duty bound to protect his family. One of them had to lose.

  . . . .

  Aiguo watched Sergeant Davies drive away, confident that the "understanding" they had would keep him silent.

  "Now it's time to move the others," Aiguo said, while sending a text to Heng in South Carolina.

  'Move all to location 2, including item. Leave the present'.

  Harris Nuclear Plant

  1830 hours EST

  Jonathan turned left onto Shearon Harris Road, the access road that led to the plant. The cooling tower, over 500 feet tall, loomed above the trees on the right. A thick plume of steam billowed from the top. Turkey vultures were visible high in the sky, riding the heated air in looping spirals 1000 feet high.

  As he headed down the road toward the boxy, gray security shack, he felt his hands begin to shake. His photo ID security badge hung from his neck on a lanyard. A Thermoluminescent Dosimeter (TLD) was clipped to a plastic band above the ID. As he approached the guard shack, he lowered the driver side window and held out his ID badge.

  "Jonathan, you're running a little late tonight. You know how JB is about his turnover meeting," said Security Officer Omar Tines, standing outside the guard shack.

  "Yeah, I know. 'If you can't show up on time, don't bother to show up at all'," Jonathan said, as both men started laughing.

  Another guard appeared from the other side of the shack and began rolling a vehicle inspection mirror under Jonathan's truck.

  Jonathan popped the hood on his truck, knowing this was a standard part of incoming vehicle inspections. A third guard stayed inside the shack, part of the security protocol for this duty station. The two guards outside the shack were considered expendable. The 'shack' was built like a Brinks Truck, and anchored to a huge concrete pad. If a vehicle tried to ram the shack, the vehicle would take a worse beating. The windows were bullet resistant up to .50 cal. The walls would stop even that large caliber round. Firing ports were built into every side of the shack, allowing the third guard to duck down and safely return fire.

  The shack was a trip wire. Cameras were mounted inside and outside and were linked to Command Central, nicknamed "Overwatch". Under attack, the third guard would activate the vehicle barrier at the top of the hill a quarter mile past the guard shack. If the shack was somehow taken out, the vehicle barrier could be activated from Overwatch. The access road leading to the plant led past two concrete barriers. The ground on either side had been sculpted to prevent any vehicle from getting around the barriers. The slope was too steep for even a four-wheel drive vehicle. Even a tracked vehicle would have difficulty getting over the rise. The barrier was a steel wall that would rise from the ground between the two barriers. A tank could get past the barriers, but that was it. This system, the shack and the vehicle barrier, were only two of the many layers of protection that had been built into the overall Security Plan of the Harris Nuclear Plant. Jonathan knew every detail, every schedule, the crisscrossing fields of fire, the armored fallback positions, the cameras, the dozens of security doors within the plant that could be remotely locked. He knew the strengths and weaknesses of the Security Plan. It was this knowledge that his attackers wanted. He knew that eventually he would have to give it to them to protect his family.

  The front hood of his truck slamming down woke Jonathan from his stupor.

  "Get your focus, Jonathan, or JB will be reaming your ass during the turnover briefing," Omar said, while waving Jonathan through the entrance.

  Jonathan smiled while raising his window, then drove up the hill past the two concrete barriers. The switchyard appeared on the left, the huge cooling tower on his right. Parking lots stretched from the cooling tower all the way to the Security Building, over two hundred yards, then around to the left past the Administration Building. The lot there was even bigger. There were over 3000 parking spaces, but during a refueling outage that was never enough. There had been an outage in April. There wouldn't be another scheduled outage for 15 months. Things had settled back down to normal, routine online operations. All the outage contractors were gone, and the parking lots were nearly empty.

  Jonathan kept driving down the access road as far as possible. No one wanted to park near the cooling tower. The huge basin at its base gave off a mist that would ruin the finish of a vehicle if left on for too long. During an outage, the parking lot would be jammed with vehicles from day shift. Surrounding fields would be opened up and roped off for the oncoming night shift personnel. Some of the spots were over a quarter mile away. Today, Jonathan got a great spot, only 30 yards from the Security Building entrance.

  After parking his truck and turning off the engine, Jonathan paused, staring at the entrance to the Se
curity Building.

  "Get your shit together or they'll know something's wrong. You'll wind up in the Lieutenant's office. He'll send you for a 'For Cause' piss test and have you evaluated by a shrink. They'll pull your security access and you'll no longer be useful. Your family will be dead," Jonathan told himself.

  He took a deep breath, exhaled, opened the door of his truck, and went to work.

  CHAPTER 25

  447 Weldon Lane

  Sanford, North Carolina

  July 25, 2017

  2315 hours EST

  Lingli sat in the swing on the front porch of the small, wooden farm house. The heat of the day had finally abated. She longed for sleep, but it eluded her. Eighteen hours of non-stop work had left her exhausted. The new medical clinic was almost ready, though she wasn't sure why she had bothered.

  They had spent the previous day moving everything from South Carolina. This property was the last remaining safe house that Jian had purchased many years ago. Men were scattered in every room. Being soldiers, they were able to sleep anywhere. They also filled the house with their snores.

  She glanced over at the barn. The lights on the second floor were still on. While Aiguo and two others were away, Jian was still planning. As information was provided by the captive security guard, Jian was modifying the assault plan. She rose from the swing, yawned, and started walking toward the barn.

  The moon had not yet risen. Only a few clouds danced across the starlit sky. Out here, so far from any sizeable city, the stars were bright. Jian had all the exterior lights extinguished. Shan Li, one of the new team members, sat in a tree stand on the edge of the woods a hundred yards down the road. His silenced rifle would remove any unwanted visitors that disobeyed the 'Do Not Trespass' sign that they had installed at the entrance.