HARRIS (Detonation)

by Eldon Kellogg

  "Agent Amanda Langford, how did you wind up in the back of my vehicle?" Anthony asked.

  "Escort duty. These men are nuclear weapon EOD specialists. We have to get them to the device ASAP. They know how to disarm it," Amanda said, as she grabbed him by the front of his web gear.

  He remembered the last time she had grabbed him like that.

  "You should have let me kill him," Anthony said, recalling the day when they had been together in Vola's Dockside Bar & Grill in Old Towne Alexandria.

  Anthony had been standing over the wounded Chinese Special Forces Operator who had murdered his pregnant wife. He still remembered the Aiguo's defiant words as he pointed his .45 between the man's eyes.

  "Maybe, but the SWAT team would have killed you. I didn't want that to happen," Amanda said.

  "A lot of people have died because of him. A whole lot more might die tonight," Anthony said.

  "That's why I have to get these two to the device . . . like right now!" Amanda said.

  LTC Thompson looked up at the Stryker that had stopped beside him and said, "Staff Sergeant, unload one Fire Team. I need room in the back, and I'm taking your vehicle."

  The Apaches

  0410 hours EST

  Captain Allison Wills had taken longer than expected to topple her assigned target, Security Tower No. 4. Once that was completed, she turned her aircraft toward Tower No. 3. She had seen Longbow 3 spin out of control after it was struck by a surface-to-air missile. Her instinct had been to turn and run. The pilot, Malcomb DuBose, had been a close friend. He was a real estate developer. She, and her husband Paul, had bought their home in Cary from him. Her two young sons had evacuated with her husband, as mom "left for work".

  She thought about her husband and children as she turned her Apache AH-64D toward Tower No. 3 and closed in.

  At 300 yards, she began firing short bursts from her chain gun. She only had 150 rounds left. She could see the silhouette of a man standing outside the tower by the railing. He was raising a weapon to his shoulder. She knew it was a Stinger. She pushed the throttle forward and charged the tower while keeping the chain gun's target reticule locked on the tower. The Stinger had a minimum range of 660 feet, and she intended to stay much closer than that.

  At 200 yards, the missile fired. The man began to dance in her sights before coming apart. She could see arms and legs scattered in different directions as the explosive rounds shredded the armored tower. The rocket flew past her, detonating far behind, as she flew through the debris and fire of the destroyed tower.

  Fuel Handling Building

  Refuel Floor

  North End

  0415 hours EST

  Heng had been fighting with the crane controls for over 30 minutes. Without Jian's guidance, he was struggling. Despite Heng's best efforts, Jian had bled out. An artery in his upper arm had been severed. It was too high on the inside of the arm for a tourniquet to work.

  Heng had experimented with the controls, but the best he had managed was to move the load away from the open hatch. Now it hung a foot off the refuel floor, and he couldn't figure out how to raise the load any higher. All the spent fuel pools on the floor were surrounded with handrails over three feet tall.

  "Four feet . . . all I need is four feet up. Then I have to figure out how to move to the middle of the building," Heng said, as he continued to try one control after another.

  "Stupid Americans! Why can't it just have a joy stick? All I want is UP/Down and Left/Right . . . something simple," Heng said, as he threw his hands up in frustration.

  . . . .

  Tommy and Chris had crept down the west side of the refuel floor. They stepped off the walkway beside the first spent fuel pool and onto the huge concrete floor area between the two main spent fuel pools. The area was 50 yards long and the width of the building.

  "Stand up and don't move," Tommy said, as they reached the middle of the building.

  The 50-Ton Crane was 70 yards away. Tommy stood behind Chris and rested his M16A2 on Chris's shoulder. He slid forward until the magazine rested against Chris's back.

  "Hold your breath and close your eyes. Do not move!" Tommy said, into Chris's right ear.

  "Oh, shit!" Chris said, as he held his breath.

  . . . .

  Heng stood up from the operator's chair and began cursing in frustration. He turned and rested his hands on the cab's safety rail. He raised his head and saw two men less than 100 yards away, standing in the middle of the floor.

  The first two bullets struck him in the chest on his body armor. The third one entered just under his chin, severed his spine, and blew out the back of his skull. He fell back into the crane operator's chair, and twitched for almost a minute as his blood drained onto the deck plate floor, blending with Jian's.

  "Just like shooting a buck. Always best to shoot from a rest, keeps the rifle steady," Tommy said, while lowering the weapon, and patting Chris on the shoulder.

  "Damn, boy, you drilled him! I bet that's the bomb hanging from the crane. Let's go check it out," Chris said.

  They both began walking toward the north end of the floor, when a man rose from the stairwell on the east side. He braced his elbow against the rail and began shooting at them with a pistol.

  Both Tommy and Chris fell to the floor as bullets whizzed by their heads and skipped off the floor.

  "Get him! Shoot the bastard!" Chris yelled, as he pulled his weapon and began shooting on automatic.

  "Shoot at him! Don't spray and pray!" Tommy yelled, as he settled into a prone position and took careful aim.

  "Shit, the handrails are in the way," Tommy said, as he struggled into a kneeling position.

  . . . .

  Aiguo ran from the stairwell and toward the nuclear device. It was suspended from the crane, a foot off the floor. Blood was dripping from above, onto the concrete beside the device. He walked through large splatter marks as he stepped onto the oversized steel pallet. It began to sway as he slipped a chain out from under his shirt, and inserted a key into a padlock. He threw the lock away, as a bullet passed near his head. More rounds pinged off the device. Another clipped the sleeve on his shirt. He ducked behind the device, and flipped open the cover that protected the device's controls.

  "One of them can't shoot. The other is very precise," Aiguo said, as he slipped out of his body armor, stood, and lifted it in front of him.

  The armor was stiff enough that it provided a barrier between him and the shooters. It jumped as rounds struck the other side, but it was the cover he needed.

  "Five minutes! Once it's set, they're done. This country ceases to exist. I may die, but China will live. China will rule this planet. A statue of me will be erected in the Great Hall," Aiguo said, as he stood and entered a 16-digit activation code that allowed him to detonate the device manually.

  "It accepted the code. It's over," Aiguo said, as he placed the tip of his right index finger on the button labeled with the Chinese character for 'Enter', and pressed.

  He felt a subtle click, and then looked at the timer. It began counting down from 15 minutes. Aiguo began cursing. He had forgotten to reset the timer from the 15-minute default.

  "Five minutes! Five minutes, you idiot," he screamed, as the body armor shield was knocked over by the impact of two more bullets.

  He ducked behind the device and reloaded his pistol. Then he glanced at his watch . . . 0432.

  "It's all right. Everything will be all right. They can't do anything in 15 minutes. 0447 . . . that gives me time to get out of here. I can still live through this. I'll return to China. They'll realize their mistake. I can still be the hero, just like in the American movies," he said, then dashed for the stairwell while firing at the two men in the distance.

  . . . .

  Tommy fired at the man as he sprinted down the stairwell, but missed.

  "Come on, Chris, we've got to get that thing out of here," Tommy said, as he rose to his feet and began running north toward the suspended package.

/>   Chris followed on Tommy's right, keeping his weapon aimed at the stairwell that the man had used to escape.

  "Do you know how to operate that crane?' Chris asked, as they ran.

  "Yeah, I worked on the Spent Fuel Team for years. The 50-Ton Crane was used to move spent fuel casks from the railcar down below up to the Unloading Pool," Tommy said, as they reached the stairwell.

  Both men walked around the open stairwell with their weapons pointed down the stairs.

  "I think he split. Now what?" Chris asked.

  "You cover the stairs, and I'll take a look at this thing," Tommy said, while walking over to the pallet carrying the nuclear device.

  "Oh, shit! Dude, we're screwed. This thing has a timer, and he started it. We've got 14 minutes and 12 seconds before this thing goes off," Tommy said, while staring down at the timer.

  "Can you turn it off?" Chris asked.

  "All I see is a timer and a panel for entering some type of code. Everything is in Chinese," Tommy said.

  "Then what do we do? We gotta get out of here," Chris said.

  "No, we have to get this thing out of the building, and as far away from the plant as possible before it goes off," Tommy said, as he ran over to a yellow gang box on the western wall.

  "We don't have enough time. You'll have to climb up to the cab and then move it. As I remember, that thing is as slow as shit," Chris said, while running over to the device and staring at the timer.

  "They didn't know about this," Tommy said, as he lifted a large rectangular instrument from the box.

  "Remote control, baby! The mechanics got tired of dressing out and climbing up to the cab to operate the crane. So they bought a remote control," Tommy said, as he turned the remote on, and began lifting the device higher off the floor.

  "You know how to operate that thing?" Chris asked.

  "No Qual Card, but yeah, I can operate this crane. One of the mechanics owed me a favor and showed me how to use it. He also told me that if I ever moved the crane, he'd break my arms," Tommy said, while grinning at Chris.

  "Okay, we still have to get rid of that thing," Chris said, then stared at the stairwell.

  "That's right, buddy, you have to go down to the Railcar Bay, make sure our pal isn't down there, and see if there's a vehicle. They used to keep a forklift down there," Tommy said, as he moved the load over the hatch opening.

  "Can't that thing go down any faster?" Chris asked, as he walked over to the stairwell and began looking down.

  Fuel Handling Building Roof

  0420 hours EST

  Kate regained consciousness as her head banged against one of the handrails that ran the length of the roof. She felt a sharp tug and opened her eyes. Lightning, thunder, and the sound of gunfire told her that it wasn't a bad dream. Another tug, and she looked forward. Her chute was extended out past the west side of the Fuel Handling Building. It billowed in the fierce winds, and was trying to drag her off the roof of the ten-story tall building.

  "Shit, the mission," she said, as she struggled to get out of her harness.

  "What's wrong with my legs? I can't feel them. Why won't they move?" Kate shouted, as her senses began to awaken.

  The rain still poured from the sky. She was soaked and beginning to shiver from cold or shock. She wasn't sure which. Her head ached and her vision was blurry. The chute was pulled so taut by the wind that she couldn't get out of it. She pulled a knife and began cutting the nylon cords away, then fell back to the roof as the chute flew away in the wind. Her head and right shoulder had been wedged against the upright section of the railing; otherwise, she would have been dragged off the roof.

  Kat stared up into the sky and thought, "Where is everybody? Why can't I move my legs?"

  She pulled herself up against the vertical rail and stared down at her legs. They wouldn't move. She noticed that she was at the far end of the roof, 30 feet from the north end.

  "Damn, I broke my back in the landing," she told herself, hoping that she was wrong.

  "The last thing I remember is the helicopter crashing below me. The teams . . ." she said, and looked to her left, down the 300 foot length of the roof.

  She saw numerous piles of men, equipment . . . and parts of men. A few chutes still blew up into the sky like kites, pinned to the ground by corpses. The southern end of the roof was still engulfed in flames, despite the wind and the downpour. Bent rotor blades reached up into the sky, pleading with a greater power to live again. She saw one man rise, backlit against the swirling flames, and walk toward her.

  SSG Clay limped up and knelt beside her. His hands were covered with blood that the rain was rapidly washing away.

  "That was a righteous fuck up. That damn chopper just about did us all. Can you move?" SSG Clay said.

  "I can't move my legs. I'm numb from the waist down. I must have hit something. By the way, you owe me a $1000 bucks," Kate said, and tried to smile, but couldn't.

  "I don't carry that much on me, but I'm good for it," SGG Clay replied.

  "So now what?" she asked.

  "So we continue with the mission. I'll rig a harness out of rope and lower you off the end of the building. Then I'll follow you down, and we disarm the bomb," SSG Clay said, while he began examining Kate for other injuries.

  "My bag broke loose. I'll need all my equipment," Kate said, while looking around the roof.

  "There, at the end of the roof. It slid over there," Kate said, and felt herself begin to lose consciousness.

  "Oh, no, can't have you falling out on me," SSG Clay said, while reaching into a med-kit pouch on his waist.

  "This injector has a little pain killer, and a whole lot of stimulant. It's a special cocktail provided by Uncle Sam, just for us," SSG Clay said, as he removed the cap and injected the drug into Kate's neck.

  "Oh, shit! What's in that? I want a prescription," Kate said, as she became fully alert.

  "You don't want to know, but it's worth a fortune on the black market," SSG Clay said, as he finished his inspection of Kate's injuries.

  "Lady . . . your back is broken at the 3rd or 4th lumbar vertebrae. I can feel the displacement. So it's a bad break. You're paralyzed from the waist down. Nothing else seems to be broken, no internal injuries that I can find. The good news, you're just fine up here," SSG Clay said, while tapping the side of her helmet.

  Kate closed her eyes, and began breathing deeply, trying to control the sense of panic that was threatening to overwhelm her.

  "You still willing to go through with this? I shouldn't move you with that injury," SSG Clay said.

  Kate nodded, trying to focus on the mission, and not on being paralyzed.

  "I'll set everything up for the rappel. Then I'll come back to get you," SSG Clay said, as he turned, and began running toward the north end of the roof.

  As he looked down off the end of the building, a man dressed as a security guard ran by below, and jumped into a brown truck parked a few yards past the building.

  "Truck . . . bomb . . . security guard," all flashed as rapid thoughts in SSG Clay's mind as he raised his weapon, and leaned his elbow on the upper handrail.

  The first two rounds took out the left rear tire. As the truck swerved to the left, two more rounds took out the front left. A man leapt from the passenger side and began running for the fence line. SSG Clay dropped him with one shot. The man lay on his face, and didn't move.

  Railcar Bay

  0435 hours EST

  Chris stood in the Railcar Bay below the open hatch. Tommy was looking down from above, as Chris signaled him to keep lowering the nuclear weapon. One more foot, and it would be resting on the concrete floor. Chris had already positioned the forklift. He had a plan, but he was desperately racking his mind for another one.

  "Oh, this sucks, this really sucks. I don't want to do this. I really, really don't want to do this," Chris said, as the load landed, and he began removing the lifting cables.

  "Crap! 0437 . . . ten minutes. That's all we've got, ten minutes," Chr
is said, as he threw the cables to the side, and climbed into the cab of the forklift.

  Next, everything seemed to happen at once. Tommy came running into the Railcar Bay. An older woman with long red hair, dressed like a soldier, dropped out of the sky, landing right in the open doorway leading from the building. Five seconds later, another soldier landed right beside her. Then, a US Army Stryker roared up right beside them and parked, blocking the exit. The soldier on top had a .50 cal M2 machine gun aimed directly at Chris's chest. Soldiers and civilians began swarming out of the back of the vehicle and everyone began talking at once.

  Chris glanced down at the timer, and began shouting over and over, "9 minutes and 30 seconds . . . 29 . . . 28 . . . 27. Get out of the damn way!"

  "Sir, get out of that forklift right now, or I will shoot you," SSG Clay said, as he pointed his weapon at Chris and began walking toward him.

  "Asshole, do we look like Chinese terrorists? We've been fighting them all night. Where the hell have you been?" Tommy said, as he jumped down into the Railcar Bay from an elevated walkway, which he immediately regretted.

  "9 minutes and 20 seconds . . . and then we're all dust. So if you want to shoot, then go right ahead," Chris said.

  "Hold on, Staff Sergeant. Let these men look at the weapon," Anthony said.

  Nathan and Alan were both kneeling beside Kate. The conversation was heated.

  "We can still do this. I disarmed the device in Alexandria in less than five minutes," Kate said.

  "I read your report. That device wasn't set up like the ones we dealt with on the West Coast. It didn't have the internal tampering net. The electronics were simpler, more straight forward. They hid the weapon inside a diesel generator. That was the protection, the camouflage. This is like one of the West Coast devices. It will have the same internal anti-tampering protections. There is no way to disarm this device in less than an hour. We've got 9 minutes," Nathan said.