Five minutes later he had it, and called the agents over to look. The location had been mentioned in a coded message about the JNCC between the Bulgarian President, Dragamir Radin, and his chief of secret intelligence back in Sofia, over a year ago. Once Cole’s computer had decoded it, the relevant part of the message read ‘You were right about El’gygytgyn.’ In and of itself this meant nothing of course, but Cole now had a location to work from.
Cole cross-referenced this name, and variations, with the information stored in various databases around the world, and found it was mentioned many times over the past few years. He found the coordinates and checked satellite images, flight paths, and any other information the computer was able to give him, until a complete picture began to emerge.
Lake El’gygytgyn was a frozen lake formed over three million years ago in what was now Siberia, sixty-two miles north of the Arctic circle. Back in 2008 it hit the news when a team of geologists started drilling into it, hoping to extract core samples that would help explain the planet’s geological history. It appeared that this was a put-up job however, and the team really consisted of Russian military personnel, who set about creating a completely secure nuclear command bunker underneath the quarter-mile deep layer of ice that covered the eight-mile lake.
Vehicles and weapons were all secured under the ice, so not only would they not appear on normal satellite images, but would also avoid thermal identification as well.
‘That’s it,’ Cole said, and Moses and Arnold, having seen the chain of evidence, saw no reason to disagree.
Cole looked down at his watch. It was ten at night in the Carribean, but that meant it was already three in the morning in London. ‘The only problem is, how the hell is anyone going to get there in time?’
15
There was still a team of geologists based at Lake El’gygytgyn, and they actually sent back usable data to their sponsors back home, all to help the charade. None of them ever knew what was really beneath the ice.
Vasilev Danko remembered what a huge undertaking it had been to create this hidden command centre. As if tunnelling through such a massive layer of ice was not hard enough, the area’s climatic conditions had made the operation hellish in the extreme.
Danko had been in the FSB back then, in charge of security for the base; it was he who had ensured the project’s incredible secrecy, with only very few people – only those at the very top – knowing about it. When he became President of the Russian Federation and the first talks had started with the other European leaders about the creation of ERA, he had immediately thought of this special base, and how it would make an excellent command centre for the new power.
He had been to the lake during the bunker’s construction, and remembered how amazed he had been that people were able to actually work in such conditions. Even the heavy plant machinery needed to be kept warm against the extreme cold, and heated jackets had to be placed around the most vulnerable moving parts to ensure that they didn’t freeze solid.
It had taken three years of hard work to excavate sufficient space within the ice chamber for the construction of the command base. In addition to the main control centre, which was an incredible example of advanced military technology, there was also an extensive civilian living quarters, troop barracks, an armoury, kitchens and dining rooms, aircraft hangers and vehicle garages, a gymnasium and even a small underground park. It was, quite literally, a small city underneath the ice, where the ERA leadership could stay in safety until the time came to re-emerge into a world that would presumably be a very different place.
Danko had mixed feeling about the changes that were to take place. The actions of ERA within the next few hours were going to result in the deaths of tens, if not hundreds, of millions of people, the vast majority of whom would be completely innocent.
The entire reason for planning and building such a structure as the JNCC was, of course, for exactly such an event. Now that it was becoming a reality, however, Danko was a little less proud of his contribution to ERA, and felt a pang of guilt at facilitating such an act of mass murder.
But it wasn’t really ERA’s fault, was it? It was the Americans who were the aggressors, and ERA was only defending its own citizens to the best of its ability, as per its remit. Russia herself had for years voiced her concerns over the American missile defence shield, labelling it as an example of US aggression which would lead to a precious unbalancing of the previously stable nuclear equation. The fact that his country had now been proved right was cold comfort indeed.
Thanks heavens that Gregory and the United Kingdom had kept in tight with the Americans, Danko thought. It was a brilliant piece of foresight and pre-planning, which had probably saved Europe from annihilation. The demands made by Gregory on behalf of Britain were ridiculous of course, but the sheer gravity of the situation had resulted in these demands being universally approved.
Danko didn’t like the fact that they had suspended all communications with the outside world, however. They could only send orders, yet not receive any feedback from their military or intelligence sources. Danko thought this was an unwise move, but Gregory had been adamant about it.
The British Prime Minister had argued that ERA had already decided upon its course of action, and that any further input from an outside source might very well weaken their resolve. If free-flow communication was available, the US would try each and every way possible to convince them that they would not attack – until they did.
Gregory argued – successfully – that if even one person was swayed by further American deception, it might fatally delay their own missile launch. A decision had been reached, and it was agreed that it had to be enforced, with no backing-down. Danko would have liked to keep up-to-date with events outside the bunker, but accepted the reality of the situation as it was.
Thinking once again like a politician instead of a humanitarian, Danko started to consider the future. America would be shattered – Russia’s own dream for so many years – and the new pseudo-superpowers of China and India would be cowed by ERA’s show of strength. This would lead the way for European domination of the globe, led by the new Confederation that would soon follow.
Millions of Americans would soon die and, whilst regrettable, it was now unavoidable. The next question to ask was how could Russia usurp Britain and take control of this new European superpower?
As Danko headed down one of the underground corridors towards the main conference room, he was already beginning to make his plans.
16
The Marine chopper took Cole and the two CIA agents back across the Caribbean to Florida, this time to Eglin Air Force Base.
Moses and Arnold had contacted Abrams directly at Offutt with the information on the location of the JNCC, and the President had immediately approved Cole’s off-the-cuff plan.
The B-780 Super Wing was the US government’s physical incarnation of the ‘project Aurora’ myth, a stealth plane with the capability to achieve hypersonic flight in excess of Mach 6. The existence of such an aircraft had been consistently denied by the US military, but when Cole requested its usage, Abrams didn’t even bother lying. It was clear Cole knew of its existence from classified documents, which revealed it to be an incredibly advanced long-range bomber which was completely undetectable by even the most finely-tuned radar currently in existence.
Abrams immediately arranged for one of the craft to be fuelled and flown directly from its secret base at Groom Lake in the Nevada desert to the Eglin airfield. From there, Cole would board the plane carrying the physical evidence in a temperature-controlled storage unit, in a variety of electronic formats. There was the recording of Hansard’s confession, of course, along with full details of the rest of Moses and Arnold’s investigation.
The distance from Eglin to Lake El’gygytgyn was over five thousand miles. In a conventional aircraft that might take up to eight hours; in a fast fighter jet, it would still take three, not including the necessary re-fuelling interval
s. As he stood in the hanger, dressed in a dark blue flight suit, Cole looked at his watch. It was five o’clock in the morning, not nearly enough time to get there by conventional means.
President Abrams had told Cole what the government’s stance was in no uncertain terms – if the ERA strike was scheduled for ten o’clock GMT, the US strike would be launched two hours before that, and Abrams had had to fight for that; some of his advisers had argued for launching immediately. But Abrams was willing to give Cole’s plan a go at the very least. Cole therefore had until eight o’clock to deliver the evidence and get ERA to re-establish contact with the US.
If Abrams had not heard from ERA by that time, then he would be forced to initiate a nuclear attack on the European missile silos.
In addition to the time factor, Cole also knew that any traditional aircraft would be picked up on radar within seconds of entering what would now be extremely restricted European airspace.
The Super Wing, or Aurora as it was more popularly known, was capable of hypersonic flying speeds in excess of Mach 6. It could make the trip from Eglin in not much more than an hour, which might just give Cole the time he needed. In addition, it could do so completely undetected.
‘Good luck,’ Moses said to Cole in the air-conditioned hanger. Cole took Moses’ offered hand, shaking it firmly.
The CIA men had grown to respect Cole over the past few hours, both for his professionalism and his apparent passion for righting his wrongs. What was more, the men now trusted him, and knew Cole would keep his word in trying to get the information to the ERA leadership, although they still weren’t quite sure how he intended to do it once he was there. Surely they wouldn’t let him just waltz in? Still, they figured, if anybody could do it, it would be this man.
Arnold shook his hand next, and then Cole was moving outside to the aeroplane, even as the American agents were ushered back away from the hanger entrance.
The Aurora aircraft was unlike anything Cole had ever seen as it waited for him on the cleared runway. Secrecy surrounding the plane meant that all Eglin aircrew had been replaced with specialists from Groom Lake, much to the chagrin of the base commander; Cole was honoured to be amongst only a handful of men and women in the world who had seen it.
It was not entirely unlike a schoolboy’s paper aeroplane – it was low, wide and very flat, in a very characteristic triangular shape with the wings turned up at each end. It was painted a dull gunmetal grey, but was captivating in its eerily alien quality.
A runner came over and escorted him to the side of the aircraft. The crew of two was already undergoing their pre-flight checks in the narrow, pointed cockpit at the front, and Cole was invited to climb a small ramp into the side entry door. A man waited for him there, helping him aboard, and then the ramp was removed and the door swung shut with a heavy clunk, the man securing it from the inside.
‘Welcome aboard sir,’ said the man, without offering a name.
‘Thanks,’ said Cole. ‘Have you got what I asked for?’
‘Sure have,’ the man replied. ‘You must be one crazy son of a bitch.’
17
Alexei Severin had taken over command of base security upon Danko’s arrival. The base was still on Russian soil, and Danko had demanded that Severin be given the job.
As it was, the demand was unanimously voted in favour of, due to the high regard in which the Russian security man was held after the incident in Stockholm. The team he took charge of was multinational, each ERA member sending its own people there after the treaty had been signed.
The job was not expected to be taxing, however, as the very location of the base was unknown to all but the people who were now already there. Severin didn’t have all the details of the past week’s events, but from what he had heard from Danko, it appeared that they were headed for nuclear conflict, with ERA deciding to launch a pre-emptive strike against the USA. He didn’t want to think too long and hard about it, but his gut reaction was that nothing good could come of it.
British intelligence seemed to have been able to negate both the American defence and offence though, and this gave Severin pause for reflection – if the US military and government could have been infiltrated and penetrated so thoroughly, then it was not unthinkable for the same to have happened here.
Far from treating the position as an easy number, Severin had immediately set about sifting through the personnel files of every man and woman currently stationed at the JNCC. He had then put each and every one of them through a polygraph test, including the previous base commander whose position he had taken. He was not there to win friends after all; it was his job to make sure the base was secure.
After the base personnel were checked to his satisfaction, he then addressed physical security matters. Due to the geographical and climatic nature of the base, physical security beyond the advanced radar systems were not really given much import. Ignoring precedent, Severin had ordered roving patrols, both inside and – to the extreme disgust of all – outside the compound.
There was also the possibility that one of the heads of state or one of their aides or assistants – or the members of their immediate families that were secreted away in the civilian quarters – could somehow be a danger, and Severin therefore had to make sure that each one was comprehensively watched and monitored. You could never be sure after all, and complacency was the ultimate enemy of the security professional.
Although Severin could admit to being fairly sure that the base was secure, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure, and – as was his nature – he never could be.
Adam Gregory was content in his own work. Yes, he decided as he took his seat at the head of the huge conference table, I could get used to this.
The doubts that had plagued him for the preceding months – could he handle the guilt, would it all be worth it, would it even work? – crumbled away into insignificance as he felt the power he was now imbued with almost coursing through his veins. It was like a drug, and one that he wanted more of. It reminded him very much of when he had first been swept to power as Prime Minister on a wave of unprecedented public support.
He had felt like a rock star, a hero; but at the same time he had realized the limited extent of his powers, as a figurehead for a third-rate has-been nation. And over the years he had watched forlornly as even this limited power was slowly chipped away as public support ebbed and waned, until it seemed doubtful that he would win another election. But Hansard – his tutor and mentor ever since the man had first found him leading a debate in the chambers of Oxford University – had told him that this would happen, and that it would all be worth it in the end.
Gregory had been beginning to suspect that it might never happen, but Hansard had managed to steer his political career successfully right from the start, and had never given the future Prime Minister any reason to doubt him. And once again Hansard had been proved right – after all, here he was, sitting at the head of the combined nations of Europe and Russia, wasn’t he?
He was aware that Hansard had chosen him and used him for his own ends, harnessing Gregory’s latent ambition, but why object? Hansard’s lofty ambitions were for the future good of the nation; Gregory’s were purely self-motivated – he craved power, and knew that Hansard would provide him with it. He had therefore gone along with all of the old man’s plans, followed all his suggestions. And now he was here, a position of real power – but really only another stepping stone to his ultimate goal.
For Adam Gregory knew he would soon be made President of the Confederation of the United States of Europe and Russia, which would be the only remaining superpower in the world – a position of real power. And if a hundred million or more innocent people had to die to put him there, Gregory thought as he gazed at the gathered leaders sat around the table, all eyes focussed on him, then that was just too bad.
18
The man-with-no-name helped Cole change into the large, bulky suit. He checked the gauges and the monitors, and made sure that the
all-important evidence box was securely fastened to the suit, placed so as not to affect the aerodynamics of the equipment.
Although the Aurora was travelling at more than four thousand miles per hour, high above the cloud level near the edge of space, Cole curiously didn’t feel the sensation of speed. In the pressurized cabin, it was surprisingly serene and comfortable. Cole knew that this sensation wouldn’t last for long, however, and he would soon be anything but comfortable.
Both men turned as they saw the warning light flash on next to them. ‘It’s time,’ the man told Cole, picking up the heavy helmet and securing it in place onto the reinforced neck of Cole’s suit.
Good luck, you crazy bastard.
At the ERA meeting, there was really not that much to say about the expected events of the next few hours. The plan was in place, the British agents were all set to disable the American nuclear network, leaving them utterly defenceless, and ERA’s network of missiles was fuelled and ready to go. They just awaited the final command.
Intercontinental ballistic missiles would be launched from bases in both France and Russia, targeting known US missile installations and other military bases. In the meantime, the UK’s own submarine-based Trident missile system, the carrying subs of which had stationed themselves off both coasts of the US, would strike the main US cities of Washington, New York, Chicago, Detroit, Los Angeles and San Francisco, taking out the nation’s government and main financial centres. Further nuclear weapons from France and Russia would then be launched against a succession of smaller US cities in order to destroy the country’s industrial base.
The result would be a complete crippling of the United States. Even if the key government players had managed to survive in a bunker, they would re-emerge into a broken nation – physically, financially and industrially – and it would be just too big a job to fix.
Seven Day Hero Page 42
