Ham charged.
The muzzle flashed and the explosion of gunpowder was deafening within the small steel confines of the elevator. Blood spurted from Ham’s left shoulder, but that didn’t stop him.
Ham grabbed Alek and there was a second shot, muffled compared to the first. Ham grunted as the bullet tore into his thigh.
Dr. Lin screamed.
The air was filled with the stink of burned gunpowder.
Ham punched Alek so hard it took him off his feet. His gun clattered along the bare concrete floor of the corridor.
But Ham had two bullets in him. His next blow was wild, and Alek reacted with a double chop into Ham’s throat. Ham gasped and hit the floor.
Jonah and Amy lunged at Alek. Jonah ran, head down, smacking Alek in the gut. Amy swung her leg into the back of Alek’s knee, hoping to bring him down.
Alek pushed Jonah into the way of her attack and all she ended up doing was kicking him in the head. Jonah spun on the spot, unconscious.
Two down in as many seconds.
But there was no time to pause.
A backhand blow caught Amy on the forehead and she was knocked against the steel wall of the elevator. She clawed at it, trying to stay standing. Her head pulsed with pain.
Through blurry eyes she watched Alek pick up his pistol.
Do something, Cahill.
She took a wobbly step toward Alek, desperate to wrestle the pistol away. He merely glanced over his shoulder and kicked her legs out from under her.
She tried to get up but Alek pointed the pistol at her and shook his head. “On your knees.”
Slowly, with her hands raised, Amy did as she was told. She glanced at the others. Ham was bleeding badly, Jonah was unconscious. “My friends, they need help.”
“Hardly my concern. Time to die, Ms. Cahill.”
The hard muzzle of the pistol pressed against Amy’s head.
Her breath came in panicked half gasps—she struggled as though she’d forgotten how to breathe.
“Don’t move, Ms. Cahill,” said Alek Spasky.
Move? She could barely think. She didn’t trust her body to do anything.
“I’ve done this before,” continued Alek. “A few times, actually. You are afraid, delirious with terror. That is normal. Calm yourself. Accept your fate. Make your last seconds … sublime.”
“S-sublime?” He was talking nonsense.
“I have traveled the world, investigated every religion, every philosophy. They all teach the same thing. How to embrace this moment of your life. The last. Savor it, Ms. Cahill, the exquisiteness of life. The air tastes different, yes?”
Now that he said it, Amy realized he was right. Air had a taste. She’d never noticed it before. “How?”
“That’s because now you take nothing for granted.”
Amy forced her body under control. She had to do something. She tensed her arm. If she could spin around …
Alek huffed. “No. The trigger is very sensitive. It requires little pressure.”
Amy had one last shot. She slowly shifted her head. Alek responded by pushing the muzzle deeper. Amy tried not to sob. She needed every ounce of self-control. “Is this what Natalia would have wanted?”
Was that a sudden intake of breath? Or was she so desperate she’d imagined it?
Ever so slowly, she tried to turn her head. To see the others.
Jonah was unconscious, but she could hear a soft groan as he struggled to wake. Dr. Lin was curled up, terrified, but had wrapped her scarf around Ham’s leg wound and had her hands pressed on the bullet hole in his shoulder. Ham himself looked pale and barely conscious. He needed a hospital.
“How do you know about Natalia?”
“That you had a wife? Does it matter?”
“No, I suppose not. Now that she is dead.”
“Dead but not forgotten. And still loved. Why else the roses?” said Amy. “She’s been dead thirty years.”
“You know nothing about Natalia, nor me.”
“I know she was a hero. And that you loved her very much and maybe, just maybe, your life would have been very different if she’d not gone to Chernobyl.”
“I warned her not to go. She didn’t listen.”
“She saved thousands and thousands of lives, Alek.”
“And how did they reward her sacrifice?” She’d never heard Alek angry, but now that she had, Amy knew she had to tread very carefully. “A lead-lined coffin.”
“She was what all Ekats strive to be, Alek. Willing to do anything to make the world a better place. Is there a better legacy than that? Any truer member of the Cahill family?”
“It’s the Cahill legacy that destroyed her. That filled her mind with ridiculous ambitions.”
“No. It’s the Cahill legacy that made her the woman you loved,” said Amy. “The ambition to do good is never ridiculous.”
Alek didn’t respond. Had she pushed him too far? Amy tensed. Would she feel it?
This wasn’t sublime—kneeling, waiting for death. It was sad, pathetic, and humiliating.
“Is this how you honor her?” said Amy. “Planning a second meltdown?”
“What do you mean?”
“The bomb. You intend to blow up this power station.”
The pistol barrel pushed farther against her head. “Is that what you believe? That I would go along with such … an atrocity?”
“But we know you’re planning a bombing.”
Alek laughed. “Oh, a small explosive device, yes. That will remove the top floor of the Hilton at the gala dinner. Just enough to wipe out the guests at the symposium.”
“The Ekat branch.”
“Yes. The Ekat branch.”
Amy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
They weren’t planning to cause a second meltdown. This entire ruse was to get the Ekats in one place and kill them with a simple bomb. She should feel relieved, the city was safe. But still, hundreds would die. She would die.
And yet, why here? Why hold a symposium here, in Shanghai, with an actual nuclear reactor right under everyone’s feet? “Nathaniel asked you to do this?”
“Of course.”
Why? Why bring everyone here? Why get Alek to plant a bomb, a mere bomb?
Unless …
“It’s a double cross, Alek,” said Amy. “He’s going to sabotage the reactor. That was always his plan. And he’ll use it to get rid of you.”
There was a pause. “Even Nathaniel wouldn’t do something so monstrous.” But Amy could hear the doubt in his voice. “Get up.”
Amy blinked. What had he just said?
“Get up, Amy Cahill,” said Alek. “Get up and turn around.”
She did, slowly and with her hands still raised.
He’d stepped back, just out of arm’s reach, and the pistol was still aimed squarely at her. Alek’s eyes were narrowed with suspicion, as if he was wondering if this was some ploy of Amy’s to extend her life by a brief minute or two.
“You should be proud of her, Alek. What she did in her short life is greater than what most will do if they lived to be a hundred. She’s achieved more than you, that’s for certain.”
Alek’s eyes hardened. “It’s foolish to taunt a man aiming a gun at your heart.”
“If you’re going to kill me, then I’d rather it was because I told you the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
“That Chernobyl was no accident. It was sabotage.” Amy raised her head and lowered her arms. Whatever happened next, she wasn’t going to face it cowering. “And carried out on the orders of Nathaniel Hartford.”
Alek’s eyes widened it shock. He stared, stunned all the way through, but then shook his head, shaking off the weakness Amy had just glimpsed. “A lie. A desperate and feeble lie. I expected better.”
“What do you think Nathaniel’s been doing all these years? Do you honestly think he was just waiting for Grace to die? Of course not! He’s been prodding her defenses! You look back, unblinkered,
and you’ll see all the trial runs, all the disasters and mishaps he threw at her, just to see if he could break her. But he couldn’t, not Grace. That doesn’t change the fact that he arranged Chernobyl.”
Amy wasn’t sure if she’d convinced Alek. He would guess she’d try anything to live, and maybe even use his wife’s memory against him. She pointed at her pocket. “It’s all on my cell. Ian sent me the old KGB documents regarding the ‘accident.’ Nathaniel’s fingerprints are all over it.”
“Take out your cell. Slowly.”
She did. Alek snatched it from her. He took a step back, out of range in case she tried to lunge for him. He scanned the documents, his eyes narrowing with cold rage as he read about the stolen radioactive materials, the hunt for the arms smugglers. Amy saw his jaw tighten.
“The photo is of Nathaniel. There is no mistake.” His shoulders sank. “What a fool I’ve been.”
Amy shifted her gaze to the pistol still pointed at her. What would Alek do now? She was afraid, now that he knew the truth. He’d take it out on her. This was the chance, the one small chance, to make Alek see what had been going on. To make him change his mind about what he planned to do. Amy needed to say something, something clever and powerful that would make the difference at this very moment. But then she realized this was no time to be clever. This was the time to be honest.
“Help me, Alek.”
He lowered his pistol. He looked weary. “Go, little Cahill. Go and die another day.”
Amy’s mind was racing almost as fast as her heartbeat. “But he’ll only send others, once he knows you’ve failed. And he won’t trust you, either, will he?”
“What do you mean?”
“We need to make him stop chasing me,” said Amy, a plan coming together. An awful one.
“Can you contact Nathaniel?”
“He was expecting me to call him when this business was completed.” Alek drew out his own cell. “You want to speak to him?”
Amy met Alek’s gaze. “I want him to see me die.”
Alek didn’t reply, not immediately. He observed her, and Amy guessed he was calculating the likelihood of her scheme actually working.
Then he smiled, his blue eyes cold as ice. “This had better work, for your sake.”
Amy ruffled up her hair. She had to make this look good. She switched off a few of the lights; the gloom would help disguise any … theatrical failings. It’s not like she faked her death regularly.
Alek looked at her. “Good. But you’re missing something.”
“What?”
His backhand blow swept her off her feet. Amy lay there, head ringing with pain, her body trembling with shock.
“A sense of fear,” said Alek. “You are now pumping adrenaline, your eyes are dilated with the primal survival urge, fight or flight.” He turned to the screen as it flickered to life. “Nathaniel? I have someone for you. I’ve captured Amy Cahill.”
Amy got to her feet but the ground seemed to bend. She blinked, trying to clear the tears. Her cheekbone burned and she felt the birth of a bruise just under her eye. Alek didn’t fool around.
“Yes, she’s right here.” Alek shoved the cell at her. “There is someone wanting to speak with you.”
Amy took the cell.
The screen flickered and buzzed. She wiped the tears from her eyes. The image came into view. She gasped.
“Dan?”
This wasn’t the plan! He looked unharmed, and Amy almost cheered. He stared, confused, into the screen. The reception down here was breaking up the image. “Dan!”
He frowned, struggling with the sound. Then his eyes widened. A look of pure horror spread across his face. Amy wanted to tell him everything was fine, that this was just a trick, that she was on her way, but she couldn’t breathe a word, not with Nathaniel mere feet away from Dan.
She glanced up at Alek. He put his hand over the screen.
“If you make him believe, then Nathaniel will believe.”
“But he’s my brother. I can’t have him think I’m dead! It will destroy him!” She could hear him shouting her name. He sounded so afraid.
“You have so little faith in Dan? You must go through with it. If Nathaniel suspects, even for a moment, that this is some ruse, then he will lock himself up so tightly, rearrange his plans, and we’ll never stop him. This is our only chance to finish Nathaniel Hartford once and for all. It will give us the chance we need to reach Nathaniel with his defenses down.”
“But I can’t lie to Dan—”
“You have to.” He slowly lifted his hand away.
He was right. It was tearing her heart in two to see the pain and hopelessness on Dan’s face, but she didn’t have any choice. She had to convince him she was about to die. She shook the cell. “Dan! Dan! Can you hear me?”
He stared back at her, ashen-faced. “Amy! I’m here!”
“I—I don’t have much time, Dan. You have to listen … ”
* * *
Alek switched off the cell and helped Amy off the floor. “He was convinced. Well done.”
Amy’s veins pulsed with horror. “My brother thinks I’m dead.”
“Yes, he does. I hope that does not make him do anything foolish.”
She hadn’t thought of that. What would she do if she’d just seen Dan, apparently, die? Amy bit her lip. “Do you know where he is?”
The lights faltered. For a second they went out, plunging the corridor into utter darkness. Then the emergency lights flickered, spilling their red, hellish glow over the five of them.
Then the alarms sounded.
Dr. Lin stared at the lights, her face pale. “No, no, no!”
Alek gripped the doctor’s arm. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a level-four alarm!” she screamed. “We need to run!”
Jonah blinked into consciousness. He gazed about him, then saw Ham. “Bro!” He knelt beside him. “He’s bleeding! We’ve got to do something!”
Ham smiled weakly. “I’m all right. Just need to get up. Get moving.” He glanced at his bloody leg. “It’s only a little hole.”
Dr. Lin was struggling in Alek’s grasp, trying to flee.
“How far could you run?” said Amy. “A mile? Two? Not far enough to escape.”
Alek looked at her coldly. “I underestimated you, Amy Cahill. And I trusted Nathaniel. Two mistakes I won’t make again. Though I fear we are too late.”
Amy was up on her feet. “There has to be a chance.”
Dr. Lin shook her head. “We need to run!”
“We need to stop this!” Amy shouted. “You have to help us!”
Dr. Lin blinked. “How?”
Alek Spasky gestured at the elevator. “The control room. Take us there. Once we know what the problem is, perhaps we can fix it.” He waved his pistol at the elevator door. “Quickly, Dr. Lin.”
Jonah looked up. “What about Ham?”
Dr. Lin pointed at an elevator along the corridor. “There is a medical facility on the top floor. If they’ve gone already, you’ll find bandages.”
Jonah nodded and, together with Amy, lifted the big Tomas to his feet.
Thousands of thoughts rushed through her mind, and thousands of emotions—raw, overwhelming, and terrifying—flooded her heart. There was so much she wanted to say. “Jonah, I don’t know how this is going to turn out … ” she started, trying not to choke on what the words meant. “I don’t know how to say good-bye.… ”
Jonah gripped her hand. He squeezed it so tightly she thought she felt her bones crack. “So don’t.”
Amy stepped into the service elevator, joining Alek and Dr. Lin.
To try to stop a nuclear meltdown.
The Black Forest, Germany
Nathaniel’s secret was here, Nellie knew it. The secret Grace had discovered that forced her to order his death.
Through the steel door the first things they found were the cages. They ranged from boxes about a foot cubed, to containers large enough for something the size of a
bull. Each one had a clipboard hanging from it: some bare, others with yellowed paper and circled-up black-and-white photographs.
Nellie picked one up. It was a laboratory report on a beagle. Stamped across each page in red was a single word.
The next was a report on a three-year-old chimpanzee.
An Alsatian puppy.
Some of the cages were large, human-size. Nellie approached one of them and saw the report was on a family of bears. Of the three, two had “failed.” Nellie couldn’t stand to look anymore. “Animal testing. But what was being tested?”
Sammy had one of the clipboards and was giving it a critical analysis. “We’re looking at a dark time in warfare, Nellie. The arms race was on in a big way. Remember, this is the era of the Cuban missile crisis and nukes lining up along the border between East and West; we’re right at the battlefront. It wasn’t just nukes they were worried about, but chemical and biological warfare. This looks like a test laboratory for … all sorts of unpleasant stuff.”
“Nathaniel’s doing?”
Sammy waved the clipboard. “His signature’s on every one of these. Looks like he was boss.”
“Boss of what?”
Sammy looked around. “We forget, but back in the day, people thought nuclear energy was the answer to everything. Cheap electricity, threatening your enemies, ending wars. And medicine. Radiation’s used to treat a number of diseases. All that knowledge came out of this era. Maybe Nathaniel went … further.”
“How?”
“Radiation treatment can cure, it can kill. It alters the DNA of the subject. It causes—”
“Mutations,” said Nellie. She’d read enough comics to know the basics. “You think that was what Nathaniel was trying to do here? Create mutants?”
Sammy’s eyes widened. “Give me that report again. The one on the chimp.” Sammy searched through the pages. “Listen to this. ‘The subject began to display signs of enhanced mental aptitude, completing the puzzles thirty-five percent more quickly than prior to the treatment. Its physical strength had risen by thirty-seven percent, and its agility and hand-eye coordination improved by twenty-nine percent. Tomorrow we shall increase the period in the radiation dose by another forty percent to see if these attributes can be further enhanced.’ ” He flipped over the page. “Ah. They increased the dose, but the animal couldn’t take it. The experiment ‘failed.’ ”
Mission Atomic Page 9
