Dark Winter

by Anthony J. Tata

  “We’re wasting time, Gorham,” Mahegan said.

  “I’ve got all the time in the world, Jake,” Gorham replied. “What’s the rush?”

  “You tell me. You’re the one who has created this war for whatever purposes.”

  “I’m the CEO of Manaslu, Incorporated. I’m one of the wealthiest men in the world. Why in the hell would I want a war? Lose my fortune? Already the market has taken twenty-five percent of my market cap. Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know, but you’ve ordered five hundred nukes to strike the United States,” Mahegan said. As soon as he said it, the look in Gorham’s eyes that told him he’d gotten the number wrong. Either high or low, but Mahegan was guessing he’d been low.

  “Interesting.” Gorham rubbed the faint whiskers dotting his chin. “I’m here in my home and you’re accusing me of an international conspiracy. I’ve been running my business, worried to death about what has become of the world.”

  “How did your man Stasovich get all beat up?” Mahegan asked. “Some kind of home security issue? The big bad asses of Idaho Falls storm the fence lines of your compound? Stasovich dispatch them one by one? Or did Cassie Bagwell slice and dice him and then escape to foil your attempt to destroy Israel?”

  Another hint of recognition. Gorham was playing it cool, for sure, but facial tics at the mention of Cassie were the tell in his lie.

  “Yes, well, it seems Captain Bagwell is in a bit of trouble,” Gorham said. “It’s good that your man Patch Owens successfully returned to the aircraft carrier . . . provided that ship doesn’t unfortunately sink in the ocean.”

  The night air was still save the buzz of dozens of drones clicking around the courtyard like mechanical beetles. Mahegan wondered, why Gorham would position himself close to a certain nuclear target and then collude with Russia to attack the United States? Draganova had called him the beast with red cheeks. Mahegan understood the concept. Gorham wanted fame. He wanted to be a savior. He wanted to be loved and idolized. He had a thought.

  “If I can get the media involved here, can you shut down the attack? By my count we have less than twenty minutes until launch,” Mahegan said.

  Gorham was silent for a while. He studied the stars that beamed brilliantly in the sky above the curtain of artificial light in the courtyard. Eyes back on Mahegan, Gorham said, “I have relationships all over the world. If there’s something I can do to help the country, then of course I’ll help. I’m a proud American. I’ll do my duty.”

  “For example, you’d walk through the biometric chamber and unlock the Russian system so that your team of hackers could stop the nuclear launch?”

  “My team of hackers? I have industry IT professionals, Mr. Mahegan. We are but a simple business fighting every day for market share.”

  “And I’m your average soldier just eating three squares a day,” Mahegan replied. “So we both can just try our best.”

  Gorham laughed. “I like your style, Mahegan. If Stasovich doesn’t make it, I’ve got an opening.”

  “I serve the people, not myself,” Mahegan said.

  “Well, you’d be serving me, and by extension, the people. We have billions of users who rely daily on our retail operations for everything from medical supplies to fitness gear; our social media platform for critical communications about natural disasters, safety, and important family events; our search functions help people learn more rapidly. We are an impressive governing entity across many domains,” Gorham said.

  Mahegan listened carefully. He heard Gorham’s tinny voice rattling off the fine attributes of his company, but his hidden message was something deeper. Governing entity.

  Either way, he wanted to be in charge, wanted the fame, wanted the adoration. This was a win-win for him. The United States avoids destruction because he’s able to pull off a last minute diplomatic save; he’s the hero. The United States is destroyed, impacting a core piece of his business, but his global diversification would buoy him until he used his positional advantage to be the lead governing entity.

  That had to be what the Iran meeting was all about, Mahegan figured. Face-to-face. Old school deals done right.

  It all clicked into place. He thought about the ability to control the weapons, the remote access Trojans, the manipulation of offensive and defensive systems. Idaho National Labs would be one of the most protected hard sites in the United States’ inventory. Gorham could have easily switched on the Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD) around Idaho Falls. Let the rest of the United States suffer nuclear defeat while his facility remained to command and control the country. Manaslu would be the first choice, the only choice for survivors to communicate and coordinate.

  “Which do you prefer?” Mahegan asked.

  “What do you mean?” Gorham looked at his ManaWatch. Shook his wrist. Nervous. Time was nigh. He had to make a decision.

  “Do you want to be known as the savior of the free world, America? Or do you want to be the beacon in the night in a nuclear holocaust?”

  After a long moment, eyes locked, Gorham smiled thinly. “Man, you really should come to work for me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. Not everyone loves you or even admires you. Some people think you’re a huge asshole.”

  Gorham’s smile remained frozen on his face as if he’d received instant Botox injections and nothing was moving.

  Draganova had been right. It was all about his ego, his likeability, his fame. Did he have it in him to cause nuclear war? He had certainly created large scale conventional havoc. There was a huge degree of difference, though, between that and the nuclear radiation that would persist for years. Some estimated one year, others up to ten years. Judging by the look on Gorham’s face, 500 missiles was low and 2000 was the more likely scenario. A lot of radiation. Most of the country.

  “Looks like you’ve been doing some research, Mahegan,” Gorham said.

  “I just know your type. Never enough. Never satisfied. Always climbing the next peak, so to speak.”

  His vague reference to Manaslu Peak was not lost on Gorham. “Did you know that some consider Manaslu the most difficult climb in the Himalayas?”

  “I don’t care. What I know is we have a few minutes to figure out your path to being a hero. You’re all about the ends. I’m all about the means. I don’t really care if you come out of this a hero. I just don’t want a thousand nukes raining down on the United States.”

  “Are you worried that we are in the impact zone being so close to the national lab?” Gorham asked.

  “No. The way I figure it, you’ve cleared the THAAD missiles around the lab to shoot down anything coming this way. But you need to understand that those things are a fifty-fifty shot. Might hit, might not. Plus, lots of missiles in the sky. How do we know the THAAD will hit the right one? Worst case, the Russians have the Tsar bomb with a burst radius of over thirty-five miles. No one is really sure because the tests all showed everything within thirty-five miles leveled. My odometer clocked fifty-two miles. Maybe safe, maybe not. Is that a risk you’re willing to take? The nukes will be in the air shortly. Two thousand of them. At least one, maybe more, for Idaho Falls. Did you miscalculate? Is Manaslu machine learning so perfect that it will deduce immediately how many missiles are in the air and ensure the THAAD defenses protect you? Or is there a margin for error?”

  “Enough, Mahegan. I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but we can’t afford to waste any more time.”

  “I was just painting the picture for you. Let’s go to your biometric chamber. I’ve got two of the best hackers standing by.” Worry began to creep up Mahegan’s neck. He had killed some of the clock, but he needed to show Gorham that the only real option was to unblock the Russian system and have O’Malley and Draganova hack to shut down the launch.”

  Mahegan leaned down and grabbed his radio and earpiece. “Going to need this.” He left the pistol on the ground but did scoop up his knife, pressing it against his forearm like a magic tri
ck.

  “I’m watching,” Gorham said, leveling the pistol.

  “Just going to need to communicate.”

  Mahegan led the way into the compound and Gorham ushered him from behind with a series of lefts, rights, straight aheads, and pushed the elevator buttons. He was doing everything that Mahegan needed done, leading him to the biometric chamber. Mahegan had always believed the Croatan maxim If victory is easy, you have not met the enemy. Was Gorham the ultimate enemy? Was there someone pulling his strings?

  Soon they were deep in the compound where Mahegan saw the entire command center. In the middle was an elevated circular structure with computers and monitors. Bullpen cubes in either direction fanned out as far as the eye could see. Long tubular fluorescent lights hung from tiny chains fixed into the concrete ceiling. Rows of generators were lined against the wall with exhaust outlets poking into the concrete walls. A large circular portal was behind him—what he figured was south—and he saw what he had hoped to see. If he and O’Malley were right about the straight line construction that had taken place two years ago, that opening would be the terminus, the connection to Manaslu headquarters. It was Mahegan’s only chance if Gorham was overconfident about his status.

  To his left, next to the command post, was a thirty meter walkway and biometric chamber.

  “We have sixteen minutes before launch. I’m sure you’ve figured out that I’m the universal biometric key,” Gorham said. “But first let’s turn on some entertainment.” He used a remote to switch on large television screens that showed a satellite image of the drop zone in Yazd, Iran.

  The satellite zoomed and captured the raging fight that was taking place. Rangers were leaping off helicopters. Iranian jets were rocketing low and bombing the infantry on the ground. American AH-64 gunships attempted to maneuver against the advancing Iranian infantry while steering clear of the enemy jets. Cassie was in the mix somewhere, Mahegan knew.

  “Looks like quite the predicament, Jake. You’re not the only one who reads dossiers.” Gorham smirked and rubbed his chin. “Now what were you offering? Because I’m willing to trade. I can shut down those jets. I can stop that infantry. I can save your girlfriend.”

  “Not trading. We have fifteen minutes now. You have two options. Nuke America or save America.”

  “And you have two options. Save Cassie or let her die.”

  “Cassie is a better soldier than I ever hoped to be. She’ll be just fine.”

  There was no play for Gorham. No trade that made sense. If he could shut down the Iranian attack, what was he getting in return?

  “I see your mind spinning. You’re wondering what my upsell is here. I’m a hero either way. Either world hero or an American hero.”

  “Sure, stop the attacks if you can,” Mahegan challenged.

  “Oh I can. But why should I? You killed Shayne. Shouldn’t I go tit for tat?”

  “The Iranians killed Shayne. Stop the attack.”

  “Got your attention, Mahegan?”

  He did have his attention and Mahegan figured out why when he heard the elevator door open. Mahegan turned around.

  Stasovich stepped forward looking like a zombie. Eyes bugged out. Deep purple bruises around his neck.

  “Still think I’m the biometric key?” Gorham asked, diverting his attention. “I’m happy to walk in here.” He was pointing at the chamber.

  A hologram popped up to his right. Images of wispy figures firing weapons and dodging rocket propelled grenades as they sought cover behind rocks. He saw Cassie on one knee, her mouth forming the word Medic! Her hand was atop a soldier’s chest, pressing down to stop the bleeding. Tracers whipped in every direction as if she were in the middle of a beehive.

  “Walk? Stop the Iranians? I’m so confused, Jake. What shall I do?”

  Two thousand nukes. Countdown probably started. O’Malley on standby. Cassie in the firefight of her life. Her short blond hair matted to her head. Blue eyes searching for her next target. Rifle at her shoulder, firing until she dropped a magazine and reloaded. Was one life for millions any different from Cassie’s life for millions?

  It was. He loved her. The life he wanted was with Cassie Bagwell, but she was half a world away.

  “Walk,” Mahegan said, gritting his teeth.

  He whirled as he snatched his knife from his cargo pocket and flipped it into Stasovich’s bruised neck. The monster kept walking toward him, but slowed with each stepped. Blood oozed around the knife blade and down his neck. Mahegan ran toward Stasovich, grabbed the knife handle, twisting it as he retrieved the blade. He turned around.

  Gorham had gotten nervous. He was in the chamber, but nothing was coming up with green check marks. It was all red Xs. Zeros. Nothing. Freaking out, Gorham ran his hands through his hair.

  Mahegan wondered. Had he always planned on being the savior? Like the kid who started a fire at his girlfriend’s house so he could later save it and be loved by the family?

  Seeing Gorham’s failure as the biometric key, Mahegan ran into the chamber and dragged the sobbing entrepreneur away, preventing any further damage. Dragging him to the computer terminal, Mahegan held the knife to Gorham’s throat and said, “Stop the Iranians.”

  Gorham stared at him. “You’re right. It’s only fifty-fifty on the THAAD. And there are probably five nukes alone headed here. Was hiding in plain sight. You know, Gorham lives here so how could he plan a nuclear attack on the country? That was the plan, but, still, we should be okay down here. But I always planned to pull us back from the brink. Be the hero Belina wanted me to be.”

  Belina Draganova. His partner? His shrink? Or, perhaps, more likely, a Russian spy working for Khilkov.

  “Stop the Iranians,” Mahegan emphasized.

  Gorham shrugged. “Since this is the only thing keeping me alive for now, I think I’ll wait. Besides, I need you to protect me from Khilkov.”

  Before, Gorham’s status as supposed biometric key had been his saving grace. Now, Mahegan stood over him with a knife ready to kill him. Instead, he struck Gorham on the head hard enough to make him unconscious. He lifted Gorham’s mass onto his shoulders and carried him toward the portal.

  A clock on the wall chimed. Ten minutes. The nuclear launch countdown had begun. Cassie’s fight in Yazd raged on the hologram. The only way to save her was to save the world. He was half a world away and the only thing he could do was his very best to stop the nuclear war.

  Mahegan turned and lumbered toward the oval opening he had seen. He and O’Malley had studied the construction permit. While it had been cloaked in code words, it was clear enough that a tunnel had been built. Fifty miles of straight line tunnel. No deviation. Like the high speed railroads in Europe and Japan. Perfectly straight lines led to perfectly high speed rail. But still, fifty miles.

  He stepped into a transport vehicle, carrying Gorham on his back. He had read about Elon Musk’s idea of a hyperloop. It was advertised as traveling at 760 miles an hour. Twelve miles a second. By his count, he had to go about fifty miles. The system sat on magnets and was vacuum sealed like the old time bank check deposit tubes. The invention was intended to move cargo faster for quicker delivery. Enhanced speeds would equal greater sales volumes.

  Mahegan’s radio connected with the ManaWeb and he was communicating with O’Malley. “Sean, this is Jake. Copy?”

  “Roger. Standing by.”

  “Gorham isn’t the key. I’m in the hyperloop. Find the chamber and make sure Ranger is there. And I need you to hack into the Iranian conventional capability. Cassie’s in the shit.”

  “Been listening in. Breaching their portal now. Draganova stepped out with Ranger before you warned. I didn’t want to leave the terminal, but will now. Meanwhile, look at your phone. I’m sending you a video.”

  Mahegan removed his phone from his pocket and entered the code to open the screen. He opened the browser and watched the video O’Malley sent. Gorham was kissing Draganova. They were naked in a hotel bedroom. The curtains from the bal
cony fluttered inward. Draganova pushed him onto the bed, went down on him, then mounted him, riding him until she let out a plaintive cry.

  “Draganova and Gorham are lovers?” Mahegan asked. He looked at Gorham’s inert form on the floor of the transit vehicle.

  “Roger. Explains everything except why she was in the restaurant,” O’Malley said.

  “Because she needed us. She knew you were in Manaslu. What better way to keep tabs on us than to join the team.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “It does now. She killed the CFO. I found her body behind Gorham’s compound. They’re either in this together or she has her own agenda. Find her, Sean. We’ve got less than eleven minutes. I’ll be there in four.”

  “So it’s a hyperloop?”

  “I’m banking on it going as fast as advertised.” Mahegan punched the button above the control panel inside the cockpit of the vessel.

  It was built like a metro car, except the nose looked like the space shuttle. The sleek design was for enhanced aerodynamics at 1,000 mph. The doors shut. Something whirred beneath the vehicle, and Mahegan was suddenly moving beyond Mach 1, which was 767 mph. The speedometer showed 1,100 mph with the needle pegged into the right side of the speedometer. Lights in the tunnel whipped by. He felt like he was in outer space, zipping past stars at light speed. What he understood about the system was limited. He knew that it operated on magnets and a vaccum push and pull system. The rear end was sealed off while the gaining end was open and pulling air using high powered fans. The magnets eliminated friction, which made all things possible for the hyperloop.

  After nearly four minutes, he had traveled almost fifty miles. The vessel glided to a stop, Mahegan barely feeling the momentum shift. O’Malley opened the door as Mahegan exited, leaving Gorham on the floor of the vessel. He stepped onto a small ledge and balanced his way to the main platform.

  “We’ve got to go,” Mahegan said. “Where’s Ranger?” He was counting in his head. Less than nine minutes until two thousand nukes. Four minutes back to the chamber. The door to the stairwell opened. A shrill yelp followed the squeaking hinges.