The screen showed a canopy of trees with a small bloom of heat signatures. Grace could see nine blobs of red.
“The facility is close by. As of last check-in, they’re making excellent time, though they had a problem with a mudslide and are doing ingress on foot. My assets are working with Agents Drummond and Caine from the New York FBI Field Office. Their Covert Eyes team tracked the facility based on the purchase and subsequent shipment of an industrial-grade telescope, incredibly detailed. We are relying on this team to deactivate the nuclear sequence from the ground.”
Bradley couldn’t believe it. “Drummond and Caine? They’re there?” He shook his head. “Leave it to them to be involved in this. And thank all that’s holy they are—there are few people on this earth I believe more capable of stopping this than those two. Now, is there a reason we haven’t simply dropped a bomb on Dr. Patel’s facility? Wouldn’t that stop the countdown?”
Grace said, “Unfortunately, sir, we have no idea what sort of backups she has in place. A bomb could set it off. Patel has been plotting this for years, certainly before she stole the plutonium in 2015. You can bet they’ve taken every precaution, covered all the bases.”
He drew in a deep breath, then spit it out, “I believe our best course of action is to let our people on the ground attempt to stop the explosion.”
DOD spoke up. “But just in case, Mr. Grace, Drummond’s idea about eliminating the satellite carrying the nuke is sound. Should we determine the satellite does in fact carry a nuclear explosive, we can attempt to move the X-37B—the Orbital Test Vehicle—into place to intercept. Assuming, of course, it’s in the proper orbit, and can get there in time.”
The president rubbed his chin. “I’m no nuclear scientist, so explain to me how blowing up the satellite carrying the nuclear bomb won’t set it off?”
General Thomas Monroe, the chief of staff, said, “There’s an interior trigger that must be set off so that the two chambers of plutonium can collide and react with one another, resulting in a nuclear explosion. Fission. Avoid the fission, avoid the explosion. Understand, sir, it’s not as simple as lighting a stick of dynamite and tossing it at the bomb. This must be a precision strike.”
“Then let’s get an ICBM loaded and up there. The Orbital Test Vehicle can be a backup, assuming it’s capable of such a feat.”
“We’re at the outer limit of the ICBM’s range, sir. And all of this is assuming we can find the satellite among all the space junk floating around up there. We think we know where it is, but until we positively identify the satellite carrying the nuke, sir, we can’t take any offensive measures.”
“Well, Thomas, figure it out. We’re running out of time.”
“These are precise calculations, sir. The math is being run as we speak.” He coughed. “We aren’t one hundred percent sure we can get the numbers to work in time.”
Vice President Sloan sighed deeply. “And the space station? It would be compromised should an EMP go off in its orbit, yes?”
Henry Castelli, the head of NASA, said, “Yes. Though the ISS is hardened against a natural EMP event, solar flares and the like, we can’t chance it. Anything else in the area not already hardened will be compromised. As a result, ISS has been given instructions to deviate from course and they have laid in new navigation. They’ll be out of the way, farther north, as safe as we can make them, very soon. The thing is, this course correction is already being quietly reported in the community. Enthusiasts who watch would certainly have noticed the new course, and people love to talk. We don’t have more than an hour before it gets into the public domain. Once it starts trending on Twitter, all bets are off. We’d like to avoid a panic, if at all possible.”
Bradley looked to a countdown clock running in the top left corner. “Come up with an excuse—space junk in their way or something. That’ll give the armchair astronomers something to buy.”
“Sir, it’s not that. I’m concerned that if Dr. Patel realizes the space station has moved off course, it will give away our knowledge the bomb exists and is in play. And that could mean she might blow it early.”
Bradley slowly nodded. “Ah. Good point. We have a little more than one hour until the apex of the lunar eclipse in the area over Nepal. Is there a chance we’re wrong about this timing?”
“Anything’s possible, sir,” Castelli said. “It’s the unfortunate part of this, we don’t know for sure.”
“And your people, Carl? Their operation depends on them reaching this jungle-bound facility. Do they have the proper tools to stop this?”
“They do, sir. I don’t need to remind you, Drummond and Caine are formidable weapons, exactly what we need for shutting down the computers. Drummond’s hacking skills are top-notch. We don’t have anyone better. And Caine is capable of handling the physical side of things, should a fight ensue. Combine the two of them with my people, and we’re sending in a missile strike team, just warm-blooded instead of mechanical. And as you can see, they are very close.”
The red heat blooms were in fact close to the main gate.
The president said, “I can’t believe we don’t have any other options in place to handle this threat.”
Grace said, “We can only be so proactive, sir, when dealing with a nuke two hundred and fifty miles above the Earth on a rogue satellite we aren’t yet sure we’ve accurately traced.”
Bradley slammed his fist on the table. “We’re going to change this, trust me. We are never going to have this situation on my watch again, do you understand?”
“Happy to hear it, sir,” the chief of staff said. “Get Congress on board and we have a deal.”
Bradley said, “Good, all right. I know Drummond and Caine well, I would trust them with my life. But there’s no reason why we can’t have a backup, just in case. Callan?”
Sloan nodded.
Bradley said, “Then it’s settled.” He said to the chief of staff, “Move our missile defense batteries into place in case things go south and Russia or China decide to lob a nuke our way in retaliation. Get the ICBMs ready for a launch. Even if this is out of their range, I want to be prepared. We must be ready in case our other attempts to stop this fail. But I do not want things getting that far down the road, am I understood? You verify you’ve indeed found this rogue satellite, get the air force on the horn, talk to their Rapid Capabilities Office, and tell them to get the Orbital Test Vehicle on the move to intercept and destroy. And tell your people to tune up their calculators, find that satellite. That’s an order.”
General Clarke spoke from Strategic Command. “Yes, sir. It’s more like running a billion calculations per second through a supercomputer than punching in some numbers, but—we’re on it.”
Sloan watched the red dots moving on the screen. “Even if the team makes it inside the gates, they’re facing an armed force, and they’re in the northwest wall of a typhoon.”
Castelli, NASA, said, “A slight bit of good news.” He popped the storm satellite view on a small quarter of the screen. “Here’s the most recent view from space. The eye of the storm will be on them soon, and they’ll have about an hour of relative calm to get this thing stopped. I fear all we can do is wish them Godspeed.”
And at that moment, the screen showing the team’s progress toward the Aquarius Observatory bloomed bright white.
Bradley cried, “What’s that white? What just happened?”
Grace looked from the screen to his president, feeling the first bursts of panic in his chest. “An explosion of some kind, sir.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
T-MINUS 1 HOUR 10 MINUTES
Nearing the Aquarius Observatory
Sri Lanka
It was fully dark now, the storm eerie and keening above, making the treetops whip around. Debris rained down on them with every step, and the ground was slippery muck. It was wet and miserable.
Nicholas’s satellite phone showed they were nearing the road, which meant a clear shot to the gates, a blessed relief for their
screaming legs.
Nicholas said, “I think we need to split into two groups, come at the gate from two sides.”
Mills agreed and he, his five CIA agents, and Bernard split off.
Mike pulled up, leaned against a trunk, and shut off the flashlight to save the battery. They had to shout to be heard, even with their comms.
“The winds are getting stronger. I want to get inside the facility before the worst hits.”
“Agreed. Catch your breath, then off we go. By my estimation, we’re nearly to the road. Though the forest is giving us cover from the worst of the winds. I wish we’d thought to pack goggles. We’ll be maybe thirty yards away from Bernard and Vinny when we get to the gates.”
She pushed off the tree, turned the Maglite back on. This time Nicholas went first, hacking with the machete. They took three steps, and the forest in front of them exploded.
Nicholas was thrown backward into Mike, and they both hit the ground hard.
Mike was on her hands and knees a moment later, head up, gun in her hand. Nicholas wasn’t quite as quick. She cleared the zone ahead, stepped back to his side, searching for fresh blood or broken bones. His eyes were open, no pain she could see.
Nicholas sucked in a big breath. “I’m okay, give me a second.” He put a finger in his ear and cracked open his mouth. “I can’t hear you.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“Your mouth is moving.”
“I’m cursing Nevaeh Patel to hell and back. What happened?”
“I don’t know. Let’s go—carefully.”
She hauled him to his knees, then to his feet. He swayed for a moment, then got his footing and nodded.
Twenty yards farther and the trees thinned. They saw a smoking crater. It looked like a war zone, bodies scattered around, the stench of death thick in the air. There were three people on their knees or staggering to their feet and four on the ground.
They saw Mills on his side, unmoving. One of his CIA agents was beside him, covered in blood, now quickly being washed away. Bernard was on his knees, giving CPR to another agent. Mike knelt with him while Nicholas checked the other three, one of whom was unconscious.
Bernard’s face was grim, blood-streaked from a cut on his head. He’d lost his helmet, was sheltering the agent with his body. He shouted, “Hit an IED. Mills was on point. It exploded right in front of him, he took the brunt of the blast. They are supposed to be on the roads, not in the forest.”
Mike pressed her palm against the man’s chest. After a moment, she felt his heart stutter against her hand. “He’s alive.” She closed her eyes a moment.
Bernard helped the man sit up. “I don’t know how stable he is, and we can’t get help for anyone. Is Mills—?”
Nicholas was standing next to her now. “Mills is alive, but he’s in bad shape. The lucky bugger’s unconscious, and that’s a very good thing. He has a piece of shrapnel in his thigh. I’m afraid it could be wedged against the artery. If we try to remove it without the proper medical tools, he could bleed to death. We’ve got a tourniquet in place and stabilized the wound so we can get him to shelter. Bernard, we have to move, and move now. Are you okay?”
Bernard nodded, but stayed kneeling in the mud. “We have two dead and two more wounded. There is no way we can carry this many people. We will build a quick shelter and stay here while you two continue into the facility.”
“You’re going to be stuck out in the storm.”
“We have the proper gear. The forest is cutting the wind.”
A massive gust blew through, and Mike stumbled. Not two feet away, a tree creaked and uprooted, and fell heavily, scattering mud and leaves everywhere.
Mike said, “Absolutely not. The storm is getting worse. You have to come with us. We can’t leave you here. Just to the gates, to shelter.”
One of Mills’s men, Honeycut, stumbled toward them. “She’s right, we have to go, the worst of the storm is about on us. We can carry the wounded.”
Honeycut pulled Bernard to his feet and set him toward the road. “We estimate we’re less than half a klick from the gates. Can you manage Tomkins here? We’ll take Mills.”
Nicholas handed Mike his gear, holding back his weapon, ducked down and lifted Tomkins in a fireman’s carry. Once Nicholas had his feet and was braced against the wind, he nodded.
Honeycut looked at Mike. “You have to lead us. Watch for anything white—on the road, in the bushes. That’s what this one looked like, a piece of dirty white cloth, like a flag, planted. We think it was marked for removal and someone missed it.”
“Copy that.”
The going was slow. Mike was careful where she stepped. Mud squelched underfoot, her clothes were sodden, rain dripping in her eyes. She was royally pissed and worried, no, scared to death was more like it. Ten minutes later, the path, miraculously, was clear.
She shouted over the wind, “We’re at the road,” and soon they were all with her. Mills wasn’t looking good, his head slumped on his teammate’s shoulder. They’d covered his leg with a tarp and she couldn’t see any additional bleeding but couldn’t imagine the jostling of being carried through the woods was doing the leg any good.
Tomkins, the man Nicholas carried, had come to and was insisting on trying to walk.
“Sorry, mate, you’ll slow us down. Only a few more minutes and we’ll be at the gatehouse.”
Mike counted, they were down to three capable souls. Counting herself and Nicholas, that made five in all—against Patel’s army. Granted, the teams were armed to the hilt, chest rigs full of gear and ammo, but this wasn’t good.
With luck, Bernard’s nephew would join them, making an even six. Two teams. The element of surprise was their best hope, but the IED exploding had to have drawn attention. Maybe they’d mistaken it for a blown transformer?
They set off again, moving quickly now, trotting up the road, gear as silent as they could make it. Mike’s mantra—We have to succeed, we have to succeed. She felt her heart leap when they turned the last curve and saw the gatehouse. It looked deserted.
She called out, “Bernard?”
When he came up beside her, she said, “Do you have a signal to give your nephew?”
“I’m supposed to call him, but the phones are no longer working, the cellular signals cut off by the wind. I will have to approach myself. No, do not worry, I will do so under the pretext of checking on him.”
“I’ll cover you. Be careful. Oh, yes, tell me what he looks like.”
Bernard pointed at his strangely colored hair. “He looks like me, Agent Caine. You won’t have any trouble recognizing him.” And he set off toward the gatehouse at a trot.
Nicholas gently set Tomkins on the ground and joined her, weapon out. They edged closer, took tactical stances, and waited.
Mike said, “If there’s a gunshot—”
“Stop worrying. Bernard seems confident.”
A moment later, Bernard crept back to their position. “He is there, and ready to let us in. But he will need his two compatriots paid, he’s promised them money to help.”
Nicholas said, “Fine, whatever they want. I have money in my belt.”
“A thousand American dollars each.”
Nicholas rolled his eyes but took off his belt, where he’d stashed several one-hundred-dollar bills. “I only have fifteen hundred dollars American. It will have to do.”
Bernard nodded, took the cash, and trotted back to the gatehouse. Within moments, they heard a grinding noise and stepped out of the bushes to see the great gates to the facility breaking apart like a wax seal cracking in two.
Mike saw that in the center of each gate was half the astrological symbol for Aquarius. When the gates were closed, the insignia would complete the sign—two highly stylized lines that looked like mountains, or waves of water, carved into a round gold seal ten feet across. When she looked closer, she could see all twelve astrological signs carved into the edges of the central disk.
Nicholas said,
“Well, we know we’re in the right place at least.”
Mike said, “The cameras just started to swivel. Look there.”
Nicholas looked up. CCTV cameras were pointing in their direction.
“Let’s hope it’s from the gatehouse and not the main facility. We don’t want Patel and Byrne to know we’re here. If we don’t have surprise on our side, we’re sunk.”
Bernard was waving to them, and they moved forward. He said quietly, “The cameras to the main facility have been temporarily blocked out. If you can get in quickly, they will close the gates, then perhaps no one will know we’re here.”
They slipped through the crack in the gates.
Nicholas said, “Looks like they have it set to seem like the gates may have blown open with the winds, but it can’t work for long. No way they aren’t going to notice a group of people coming in.”
Mills moaned with each step his guys took, a good sign, Mike thought. They’d leave him behind in the shelter of the gatehouse. She wasn’t sure what she thought of Mills—Vinny—but he was as ready to leap into pits of hell as they were, and she had to admire that. In the gatehouse stood two men, both looked scared. She watched Bernard hand over the cash. That lightened their mood. A younger version of Bernard came forward to hug his uncle.
They heard the gates clang back shut, and the hum of electricity sounded like bees in her ears.
Nicholas said, “We’re in.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
T-MINUS 60 MINUTES
Aquarius Observatory
Sri Lanka
It was nearly time to prepare herself.
Nevaeh left the command center and walked the long concrete halls to her private quarters. She brushed her hair and changed into a long, flowing white gown that looked like a Roman toga, fitting, she thought, to meet the gods. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked older, not as she had when she’d first met the Numen years before. And they hadn’t aged, of course. They were immortal. Wasn’t she now immortal also? Would she begin to look younger with the Heaven Stone in her possession? It was hers, only hers. And surely this magic stone would realize she was worthy, that she’d done only what had to be done. Surely it would applaud her goal and the Numen’s goals and judge them magnificent.
The Last Second Page 28
