Day of Doom

by David Baldacci

  “Why?” asked Amy. “We already know what it says about the latitude and longitude.”

  “Do we?” said Dan. “Do we really? I’m not so sure. I think we missed something. Something potentially big. And we know Isabel was really interested in the compass. She wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble for nothing. There has to be something important about it.”

  Jake said, “We know that. It told her the coordinates for the Cascades.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” said Dan mysteriously.

  Amy looked at Jake. “I guess it won’t hurt to take a few minutes to look at this. And it might help us figure out where they might be taking Atticus.”

  Sinead added, “And you running around the train holding a gun will just get you arrested, Jake. That certainly won’t help Atticus.”

  Jake looked down at the gun in his hand, engaged the safety, and then stuck it in his waistband and covered it with his shirt. “Okay, but let’s hurry.”

  They went inside the compartment and Jake fired up his laptop.

  Amy said, “If the train starts back up again, we all need to make a decision whether to stay on or get off.”

  “How can we make that decision?” asked Sinead. “If we get off and Isabel didn’t, we’re stuck inside a mountain.”

  Jake said bitterly, “Yeah, but if we don’t get off and Isabel does with Atticus, we’ll never see him again. So we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place inside a mountain. No stupid pun intended.”

  Dan said, “Which makes it all the more important to get more information. We can’t stop Isabel or Vesper One, and get Atticus and the hostages back, without knowing more.”

  Jake was clicking keys on his laptop. “Okay, I’m connected to the web. Now what?”

  “Let me have your phone. The picture you took of the back of the compass is better than the shot I took.”

  Jake dug into his pocket and tossed Dan his phone.

  Dan quickly brought the photo up on the screen. He enlarged it and studied the markings on the back they had gone over before.

  Sinead said, “Anything?”

  Dan shook his head. “I still can’t quite make it out.” He shot Amy a glance. “Wait a minute. Those night-vision goggles you took. They can magnify things.”

  “Yeah, when it’s dark. But it’s not dark, in case you hadn’t noticed,” said Sinead.

  Amy said, “But we can make it dark. Quick, turn out all the lights in here. Jake, close your laptop.”

  They turned off all the lights, drew the door and window curtains closed, and Jake quickly pushed down the cover of his laptop, shutting off the screen light.

  Dan put on the goggles and fired them up. He leaned down close to the photo.

  “Okay, I’m seeing something. Too bad the res on the picture isn’t better.”

  “That’s the best a cell-phone camera can do,” barked Jake. “And if you don’t come up with something in, like, five seconds, I’m going to go look for Att with or without you.”

  Dan adjusted the magnification on the goggles. “Oh, wow, that’s better. Okay, let me see.”

  Sinead, who had not been with them in DC and did not know what any of this represented, hissed, “Why is this important? We’re wasting time.”

  “No, we’re not wasting time,” Dan shot back. “I think we’re about to make a huge breakthrough.”

  He adjusted the magnification on the goggles again, revving them up to full power. He leaned as close as he could to the phone screen.

  “Okay, we looked at these before and came up with the latitude and longitude coordinates for the Cascade Mountain Range.”

  “Right,” said Amy. “Latitude forty-seven degrees north and longitude one hundred and twenty-one degrees west.”

  “Hey, wait just a minute,” exclaimed Dan. “ Someone has messed with these numbers. I can see it clearly with the goggles. I don’t think that seven is really a seven. A line was scratched out. I think it’s really a zero. And the one twenty-one number has been changed, too. The two and the second one have been altered. I think they were originally a zero and a six. And even from the photo it looks recently done.” He squinted. “Maybe someone used, like, a stain or dark paint to cover up part of the six and zero.”

  “Recently done?” exclaimed Jake. “How is that possible? That compass is over two hundred years old. It’s probably been in that museum for decades.”

  Amy snapped her fingers. “Remember the woman back at the museum?”

  “Dr. Nancy Gwinn?” said Jake. “The curator who showed Isabel the compass?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So that’s why you’re interested in it,” said Sinead. “Because Isabel was.”

  “Right,” said Amy. “Anyway, Gwinn said that there was almost a disaster.”

  Dan cried out, “She said Isabel dropped the compass and it bounced under a display cabinet.”

  Jake took up the story. “And Isabel got under the cabinet to get it. She would have been out of sight of Gwinn at that point.”

  Amy added, “And she could have used a knife or even her grotesquely long fingernails to cut into the back of the compass box, altering the numbers, then brushed off the wood shavings, and handed it back. And she might have had some stain with her that she applied to change some of the numbers. It would have only taken a few seconds. The markings were so slight to begin with Gwinn probably never even noticed the change. She was probably just happy the glass on the compass hadn’t broken.”

  Sinead said, “But what is so important about the numbers?”

  Dan said, “They showed that the perfect location for the Doomsday device was the Cascade Mountains. But if you take away the alterations that Isabel did, the longitude becomes one hundred and six degrees west.”

  Amy said, “And the latitude would be forty degrees north, right?”

  “Right,” said Dan. He took off the goggles and they turned the compartment lights back on.

  All eyes turned to Jake, who had opened up his laptop once more.

  Amy said, “So, where are those coordinates?”

  “Give me one sec,” replied Jake, his fingers flying over the keys.

  He stopped typing and stared at the screen, a confused look on his face.

  “What is it, Jake?” exclaimed Amy. “Where are those coordinates?”

  He looked up. “It’s the Rocky Mountains. And I used a geo-locator tagged to our position.” He paused. “That spot is exactly where we are right now.”

  They all stared at one another.

  “Here?” asked Amy. “Right where we are? How is that possible?”

  Dan said, “But what about subduction zones? Wasn’t that the whole point?”

  Jake looked at his laptop. “That’s right. That doesn’t make sense. The subduction zones make the power of the Doomsday device immeasurably greater.”

  “Then there has to be something that we’re missing,” said Amy.

  The PA system came on. A voice said, “Thank you for your patience. We will be moving very soon.”

  “Well, we don’t have much time to figure it out,” warned Sinead.

  She sat down next to Jake and started hitting keys on the laptop.

  “What are you doing?” asked Jake.

  “Trying to make sense of the inexplicable,” she shot back. “If subduction zones are important, then we need to understand what this area has that the Cascade Mountains don’t.”

  Her fingers flew over the keys, bringing up screen after screen.

  As Amy watched her she was reminded that Sinead was unbelievably intelligent and her computer skills were second to none.

  But can I trust her? wondered Amy. Her answer was automatic.

  No, I can’t.

  Sinead stopped clicking keys and looked up.

  “I think I’ve got it.”

  Jake studied the screen and Amy and Dan drew closer.

  Sinead said, “Apparently, there’s a geological quirk in the composition of the bedrock underneath the Rocky M
ountains. These mountains sit over a vast subduction zone. From what I’ve been able to find out in the last few minutes, that zone makes the Cascades look paltry by comparison. And because the Rockies are approximately in the middle of the country, any disruption of that zone could be potentially devastating to the entire country, not just the western part. One zone runs out due west and the other runs out due east.”

  Amy studied the images on the laptop’s screen. “They look like underground rivers,” she said.

  “That’s pretty much what they are,” said Sinead, and Jake nodded in agreement. “You start the power source at one end and the ramifications are felt at the other. Like a tsunami building and then crashing in a far-off place.”

  Amy said, “So this spot really is the perfect place for the Doomsday device?”

  Dan added, “It sounds like it’s subduction zone heaven.”

  “That’s exactly right,” said Sinead.

  Jake said, “And that was why Isabel altered the compass numbers on the back of the Lewis and Clark box. Just in case we found out and were trying to locate that heading?”

  “And it almost worked,” said Sinead. She looked at Dan. “If Dan hadn’t insisted on taking another look at it with those goggles, we’d be clueless.”

  Dan said, “Well, I was just being my typically brilliant self.” He added, “But if you’re trying to get on my good side by pointing out my obvious genius, it won’t work. You’ve done too many bad things.”

  Sinead glanced away, her features dark.

  Jake rose and slipped his laptop in his bag.

  “Okay, we have to get off here. That’s why the train stopped. Isabel is getting off. And she has Att with her.”

  It was merely a speck in the sky. But it soon came into sharper focus.

  The lightweight experimental aircraft was flying at barely two thousand feet off the ground. Its speed was approximately 120 knots. It looked like a helicopter, only with wings.

  The single pilot looked through the egg-shaped glass covering him.

  Damien Vesper smiled as the terrain flew beneath him and the skies overhead crackled with unusual power. Though the winds were buffeting the aircraft and coming at odd angles, and lightning cracked upward, and the sky still looked purple, Damien piloted his aircraft with a practiced hand. He was not scared by the daunting elements; he was enjoying the show!

  This was the time he had spent his whole life preparing for.

  The Doomsday device was in place and partially active. He looked down at the small box that rested at his feet. Inside there was the last piece of the puzzle. It was the Madrigal ring that was actually a gear. Once he placed that on his device and cranked it to full power, the world would understand what it truly meant to fear.

  His phone buzzed. He pressed a button and put on headphones.

  Sandy Bancroft’s recording spilled into his ears.

  He listened to the Wyoming idiots plotting against him. He was not surprised. They were utterly lacking in what it took to be true leaders. They had served their purposes. Now they were expendable. He would deal with them shortly.

  A while later he landed his aircraft in a field where a black SUV was waiting to pick him up. Up ahead of him soared the mighty Rockies.

  From here it would all begin. His master plan had finally come to fruition. His ancestors would be so proud. But of all the Vespers that had come before, he was the only one who had actually succeeded.

  The box stowed safely in his bag, Damien climbed into the SUV and was immediately driven off.

  One more piece. Archimedes’ precious gear.

  And then it all could truly begin.

  And end.

  Spectacularly.

  Cheyenne had driven the truck into a vast chamber that had been carved into the mountain. A large overhead door had opened and closed automatically as the truck approached.

  Cheyenne, Sandy, and Casper climbed out of the truck cab and headed for the rear of the truck.

  “Let’s hurry up,” Sandy ordered Casper and Cheyenne.

  Cheyenne glared at him. “Who died and made you boss?”

  “In case you forgot, Cheyenne, in the Vesper pecking order, I rank above you.” Sandy gazed at Casper. “And you’re not even in that pecking order.”

  “Yeah, well, pecking orders can change!” snapped Casper.

  “Maybe in your fantasy world,” replied Sandy. “Your problem is you’re not content to just be a follower. But your abilities are perfectly suited to such a status.”

  Cheyenne said, “Hey, Casper, I think he just insulted you.”

  Casper balled up a large fist and said to Sandy, “You’re a fancy-pants weather guy, right? Predict stuff?”

  “I prefer ‘world-class meteorologist,’ but let’s not quibble over titles. Yes, I predict things.”

  Casper popped him in the face. “So how come you didn’t see that coming?”

  Sandy held his bloody nose while Cheyenne laughed.

  “Open the truck door,” yelled Sandy between his fingers. “Now!”

  “Sure thing, boss,” snorted Casper.

  He unlocked the padlock and pushed up the truck door.

  “AAAAGGGHHH!”

  The hostages, led by Hamilton, Evan, Reagan, and Fiske, leaped out, still chained together, and fell on top of Sandy, Cheyenne, and Casper.

  When Casper stood and started swinging, Reagan leveled him with a wicked spin kick.

  “Sweet,” exclaimed Reagan as Casper crashed to the floor. “Been wanting to try out that move, doofus.”

  Cheyenne jumped to her feet and caught Evan with a jab and an uppercut. He went down, but Hamilton slammed into Cheyenne and sent her flying against the wall. She hit it and slid down, unconscious. Hamilton towered over her and flexed his biceps.

  “Man, that felt good,” he said. “What I live for. Winning and creaming people.”

  Casper got back up only to be leveled by a right cross and vicious uppercut thrown by Fiske Cahill.

  As Casper collapsed backward, unconscious, Fiske said, “Been wanting payback since that little thrashing you gave me in Switzerland, you punk.”

  Sandy got to his feet and ran, but Fiske, using his wrapped chain as a lasso, tossed it around Sandy’s neck and jerked him backward.

  “Haven’t finished with you yet, old boy,” said Fiske. “It’s been a while since I had the opportunity to pummel someone closer to my own age.”

  Sandy turned to him, gurgling, his eyes popping as he gripped the chain.

  “What’s that you say?” asked Fiske mockingly. “Oh, you want me to hit you very hard in the mouth? Delighted.”

  Fiske slammed his fist into Sandy’s face and the world-class (in his own mind) meteorologist slumped to the ground, knocked out cold.

  “We need a key!” called out Nellie, who had been flung all over the place while the others were fighting. She held her injured shoulder and was trying hard not to scream in pain.

  Hamilton dug into Cheyenne’s jacket pocket and held up the key to the shackles.

  “Got it.”

  “Someone’s coming,” warned Ted, who’d been listening intently for this very thing.

  “Quick,” said Fiske. “Out this way. We can unlock the chains later.”

  He looked down once more at Sandy and gave him an extra kick in the side.

  “That’s for Alistair, you evil little man!”

  They rushed through a doorway and entered a rock tunnel. To the left, they heard the sounds of people approaching. Still all chained together, they headed to the right with Hamilton in the lead. He was so tall and his strides so long that some of the shorter people fell to the floor.

  “Let’s get in sync,” said Reagan. “Or we’ll just be captured again. Come on, one-two, one-two, one-two. Left-right, left-right.”

  They left the tunnel, turned right, and kept going. Once they could no longer hear the sounds of people rushing down the tunnels, they stopped and Hamilton unlocked the chains with the key he’d taken fr
om Cheyenne.

  They all looked around while they caught their breath.

  “Where are we?” asked Nellie.

  The other nine hostages, suddenly free, but far from safe, looked at one another.

  “Feels like we’re inside a mountain,” noted Ian.

  His sister nodded. “It’s so cold and dark.”

  “But not completely dark,” observed Fiske. “There are low-level lights throughout these tunnels. That is not naturally occurring. There must be some source of power, possibly a generator.”

  “But who would have a generator inside a mountain?” asked Evan.

  Fiske looked at Phoenix. “Phoenix, you got away before. Where were we?”

  “In Washington State,” answered Phoenix. “Somewhere in the Cascade Mountains.”

  “So why move us from those mountains to wherever we are now, inside another mountain?” wondered Nellie.

  Ted said, “I think we’re somewhere in the Rockies.”

  They all looked at him.

  “How can you know that?” asked Hamilton skeptically.

  “I counted the seconds in the trip. And one of the wheels on the truck had an imperfection. I could feel and hear the resulting bump and squeak. I calculated the revolutions of the wheels and arrived at the approximate speed we were being driven. Multiplying that by the length of the trip equaled roughly thirteen hundred miles. That’s about the distance between Seattle and Denver, give or take. That is if we were heading east. But heading south in that direction would not really put us in a mountain range. And north would be in Canada with the same issue.”

  “But why hold us in the Cascades and then move us to the Rockies?” asked a bewildered Jonah. “It makes no sense.”

  “It obviously makes sense to someone.”

  “Someone like Vesper One,” said Nellie grimly.

  Fiske took charge. “All right. We have gained our freedom, but we’re still in great danger. They’ll know by now that we have escaped. They will be searching for us. They will know the layout of these tunnels better than we do. I think the best strategy is to split up. That way if we are captured, they won’t get us all, at least in one fell swoop.”