Castle Bravo

by Karna Small Bodman

  “Exactly,” Samantha replied. “Obviously, we’ve got more testing to do, but I really think that missile defense is our best weapon against this sort of thing. We’ve now had, what, 30 or 40 successful tests against ballistic missile targets?”

  “Thirty-eight,” Hunt volunteered. “I guess you could make a case for not only stationing interceptors on our coasts like the ones at Vandenberg in Santa Barbara, but having some looking inward toward the possibility of something getting through to the heartland and being launched from there. Your whole Kansas scenario.”

  “Good thought,” Samantha said. “Now I have another idea. With the head of Poland coming over next week, let’s try to get some points into the president’s remarks about the importance of missile defense and how we’ve changed our position after the previous administration stiffed them on those promised interceptors. I know we’re trying to get things back on track.”

  “Another good point,” Ken said, making a note. “I know the issue is on the agenda, but maybe we can highlight it in some of the public remarks.” He turned to Hunt. “Put a memo together for my signature on that one.” Hunt nodded. “Now what else?”

  “Well, while I know that the Pentagon is working on all of our current MDA programs, I still think we need something new. Some new ways to intercept an attack that could take place high up in our atmosphere.”

  “I may have a two-word answer for that one,” Hunt said.

  “And what is that?” Ken asked, shifting his gaze from his note taking.

  “Cameron Talbot!” Hunt said.

  “You mean that brainy scientist who helped us in India and did some laser thing after that?” Samantha asked. Then she raised her eyebrows and looked straight at Hunt. “Oh yes. Didn’t I hear that you know her rather well?” In fact, she had heard that Hunt and this Cameron person were quite an item and had been for some time.

  Hunt shifted in his chair and held both hands up. “Guilty as charged. But here’s the thing. She works for Bandaq Technologies, one of our top defense contractors and yes, she’s always working on the edge, coming up with new gimmicks. She had that new laser and she’s perfecting some other ideas that all have to do with disabling enemy missiles. Well, you both know that.”

  Samantha nodded and Ken murmured, “Go on.”

  “Well, one thing we could do is to talk to the Bandaq people and let them know about our focus here and sign her on as a special White House consultant” Hunt suggested. “That way we stay in close touch, share intelligence. She’s got all the right clearances, and we keep track of where she is on her latest projects.”

  “I like it,” Ken said. “We’ve used her before. Sounds like a good time to get her on board again. I’ll coordinate with the SecDef and let you know.”

  Hunt nodded again. “Once you give me the word, I’ll talk to her and her people right away and keep you posted.”

  “As for the Hill, I’m afraid we’ve got a real challenge there,” Ken said. “But I take your point about hardening the grid as a first step.”

  “And added money for the missile defense budget?”

  “I’ll take it up with Legislative Affairs, but don’t hold your breath.”

  Hunt interjected, “Do you think there’s any leeway in the DHS budget? I mean that Department of Homeland Security does have a forty-billion-dollar budget.

  “And some 200,000 employees,” Samantha added.

  “I’ll have someone take a look at that,” Ken said, adding to his notes. “Meanwhile, we’ll all keep up with the intel and, Samantha …”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Let’s keep our little confab inside this room for now. I’ll have to run it by Benson, of course. And I hope he agrees to keep it quiet for now. The last thing we need is for Max Federman and the vice president to get all hot and bothered again.”

  Samantha almost let out a sigh of relief. Finally, she had an ally in Ken Cosgrove. Finally, there was someone who recognized the risks and was willing to pay attention. And as for Hunt, he would be a great addition to the team. Now, if she could just stop worrying about some type of attack and get the images of vigilantes marauding through the streets of our cities waving guns and searching for food and water out of her head, she’d be in better shape.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  SOUTH OF ATYRAU, KAZAKHSTAN

  “Pretty desolate country out here,” Tripp said as their company driver drove the Jeep Cherokee south along the Caspian shoreline.

  “Well, they wouldn’t be drilling close to the city,” Jake commented. “I have to say that Atyrau was better than I expected. Renaissance Hotel was pretty good. I wonder what kind of set-up they’ll have when we get to the fields?”

  The driver answered, “Pretty basic. Our guys have put up some Quonset Huts, that sort of thing. And we’ve got a few trailers. Some are good size—double-wides. And since we plan to be there for a while, we’ve got most of the good stuff in place. Extra bunks, food supply, machine shop, trucks, fuel depot, the usual.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jake said. “But I doubt if you’re used to roughing it on most of your travels for the company, right, Tripp?”

  “I have to admit they usually put me up in places like the Four Seasons. But this will be an adventure. Remember, I served in the Navy. You should see some of the places I’ve had to sleep.” With the mere mention of the word sleep, Tripp conjured up the image of Samantha and the last night he had spent with her. He could just see her now right after taking her usual warm bath, wrapped in that big white towel of hers, with her hair damp along the edges. She usually pinned it up, but she had such a mass of silky hair, a few tendrils always slipped out. Her skin was always glowing and her smile was… well, the only word he could think of at the moment was enticing. She sure was that. Enticing, exciting, whatever. He had walked over and picked her up, towel and all, and carried her to the bed. He was already undressed and he couldn’t wait to rip the towel off and plunder that body of hers. But he never did that. He forced himself to take his time. He knew she liked to savor the moment, so he took her in his arms, kissed her while he wound his fingers in that mass of hair, pulled her close to him and stroked her neck and back. She had responded by pressing her breasts to his chest, and it was all he could do not to take her right then and there.

  “Uh, Tripp, you okay over there?” Jake asked. “You look a million miles away.”

  “Tripp jerked his head up. “I guess you could say that. I was thinking about Samantha. You’ve got quite a girl there, you know.”

  “Best woman on the planet. Next to her mother, of course,” Jake said.

  “I remember the first time I met her, well, not the first time. The first time was back at Princeton, but we weren’t involved back then.” Jake nodded knowingly as Tripp went on. “I mean, after my first meeting with her in the White House, I came back to my office and told our lobbyist that I had met this gorgeous woman with high cheek bones. And he just laughed and asked me if I had ever known a woman with low cheek bones.”

  Jake chuckled. “Still sending her those emails?”

  “Oh yeah. I wonder if I’ll be able to get through from the field, though.”

  “Sure you can,” the driver said, pointing straight ahead. “See, there’s a cell tower up on that ridge. They’ve installed them all over the place. We’re in touch with headquarters all the time. Have to be.”

  After several hours, they finally pulled into a complex of huts, trailers, storage facilities and garages. “Can’t wait to get out with the crews,” Jake remarked, checking out his surroundings.

  “I hear they’re really anxious to meet you too, Mr. Reid,” the driver said. “I expect they’ll want you out there first thing in the morning. We’ll have a truck convoy heading out at around six. Like to get going before the sun gets too high around here.”

  “No problem,” Jake said. “I’ll be ready.” He turned to Tripp. “You know I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for taking me along on this trip. We�
�ve had a great time so far, and if I can help these guys for a few days out here, it’ll top it all off. Makes me feel young again, kind of like one of the wild-catters.”

  They unloaded their gear and Tripp said, “Looks like an office over there. I’ll go see if I can set up my computer.”

  Jake called out, “You send another email to Samantha and tell her we’re doing great out here. Having the time of my life!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ATYRAU, KAZAKHSTAN

  “They’re going to do test. Nuclear test!” Nurlan said, wide-eyed. “I knew they were doing things with nuclear energy at plant but when I signed on, I didn’t know they already had weapons.” He stared down at his plate of food at the small table in their kitchen. “I’ve got to do something.”

  “What can you do?” Pete asked, sampling the lamb shish kabob that Nurlan brought home. At least it wasn’t horse meat this time. They ate a lot of that here but Pete couldn’t get used to it. He didn’t mind the flat noodles that came with the lamb though. They called it “Plot,” and it had a bunch of rice, carrots and onions all mixed together. It was kind of sticky but that was okay. It tasted pretty good.

  “I have idea,” Nurlan said reaching for his glass of green tea. “They put me on computers, and I’m best computer guy they have.”

  “That figures,” Pete said. “But still, what can you do about a test? Do you think you can stop it somehow? If you did, they’d just reschedule it or something, right?”

  Nurlan paused for a moment, chewing on the lamb. “I have idea. They already set up missile site down south. But we have controls from here. Complicated you say. But I’m in control room. I’m on computer and maybe I can keep it from going off on ground.”

  “How would you do that?

  “Not sure. I try to, what is it you say all time? I try screw it up. Somehow.”

  Pete shook his head. “You better be careful. What if you’re caught? What would they do to you?”

  Nurlan looked up at the ceiling, stared at the cracked plaster and finally replied, “I won’t get caught. I cover things. They not know computers like I do. That why I am put there. They been showing me all systems, how they work, how missile is set off, what is count down, all things. I been thinking this ever since I start work. I not tell you until I know. Now I know. So want you know too. But you can’t tell anybody. All big secret.”

  “Who is in charge of all of this? Is it the government? Is it the president? Are they involved in this test? I figure they have to be but this could cause all sorts of trouble with other countries, couldn’t it?”

  “Don’t know about trouble. But I hear talking about how president wants test. So we do test. We do it tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? I’m glad it’s a long way away from here,” Pete said, taking another sip of the tea. He would rather have had a Coke, but he decided he had to go with the flow here.

  “I come home tomorrow and if plan works, we celebrate.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE WHITE HOUSE

  “Who does she think she is? Saul on the road to Damascus getting revelations?” Max Federman muttered to the chief of staff. He had settled his paunchy frame into a chair in Mike Benson’s expansive office across the West Wing from the NSC advisor’s enclave. Mike’s was just a few steps away from the Oval Office, the ultimate sign of power and access. Through the windows, protected from spying microwaves by special glass, grey storm clouds were gathering over the North Lawn. Members of the White House press corps were scrambling to do their constant stand-ups before the storm hit. Mike leaned back in his leather chair, steeped his fingers and felt like the dark scene outside really mirrored his mood right now.

  “I know. The lady certainly can be persistent. Cosgrove told me that she’s still working this EMP threat because she’s been studying military intelligence.”

  “Military intelligence? Isn’t that sort of an oxy-moron?”

  “Sometimes,” Mike admitted. “Kind of like Civil War. Anyway, Cosgrove says they’re working quietly.”

  “Quietly? How can you raise an issue that she says could involve terrorists, rogue states, wild weapons and all the rest and say that it’ll be done quietly?”

  “For now, what they’re doing is bringing Dr. Cameron Talbot on board as a consultant and studying the defense budget along with the numbers at DHS looking for money to protect some of our infrastructure.”

  “Looks to me like she’s getting protection money to shore up her own position here. Good God, Mike. Can’t we shut the woman up?”

  Just then a loud clap of thunder echoed through the corridors. Mike glanced out the window as wind driven rain drops began to pelt the glass. “At least we’re not under attack here yet. As for shutting her up, I did speak to her about raising the issue at the senior staff meeting. At least she hasn’t done any more of that.”

  “Well, that’s damning with faint praise,” Max said. “Seems like you tell her ‘No’ and she goes running to Cosgrove. Either she didn’t get your message or English is her second language.”

  “Trouble is,” Mike said, “she’s damned effective in her job. Besides, the president likes her.”

  “So we can’t fire her?”

  “I’ll keep watching her performance. You can be sure of that. And by the way, speaking of performance, how are the Veep’s numbers right now?”

  “Campaign is looking pretty good, so far. Not quite time for the balloon drop though. There are a ton of events and rallies on his schedule, and we’re always looking for ways to appeal to the various groups. You know, the women’s groups, the Hispanic groups, the ethnic groups, the black groups. You got a group, he wants to do your convention.”

  “As for ethnic groups, we’re making sure he’s involved in all the meetings and photo ops with the president of Poland on his State visit next week,” Mike said.

  “Yes. Glad we could get that wired with the Scheduling Office.”

  “What about the Hispanics? What happened to that Rose Garden event the other day? I heard there was some confusion with your media people.”

  Max shifted in his chair and shrugged. “Yeah, well, we kind of dropped the ball on that one. There was this kid, Juan Santos, local kid, who won a Science Fair over in Maryland. He had some sort of model airplane that does the loop-de-loops or something like that. So we figure it could be a great photo op to invite him in, have him fly the plane, have the president and the Veep give him another award and be in all the pictures. Then we’d distribute them to our Hispanic data base of newspapers, internet sites, the whole bit.”

  “So what happened? I was on the Hill that day and missed that one,” Mike said.

  Max hesitated and took a deep breath. “Well, after bringing in the kid, inviting in every Hispanic and Mexican photographer in town and doing the whole stunt, we got press releases and photos all ready to send out and guess what?”

  “What?”

  “We find out that the damn kid is a Filipino.”

  Mike burst out laughing. “Can’t win ’em all, Max. Just keep at it. We need Jay to win in November and be in Oval next January. Too much riding on this one to mess up.”

  “I know, boss. I know.”

  “Okay, keep me posted. And meanwhile, I’ll be keeping a close eye on our lady Samantha. It’s just that you know she’s never been the kick-the-can-down-the-road type. She always wants to fix it. Now!”

  “Yeah, well if you can’t get her to pivot on this one, we may have to find some other miss-step we can use to fire her ass.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  SOUTH OF ATYRAU, KAZAKHSTAN

  At 6:30 a.m., Jake and Tripp were tromping through an oil field, led by the GeoGlobal on-site supervisor. Even at that early hour the air was warm. Just a precursor to the scorching heat that would move into the area during the summer months. They walked past several storage tanks and Jake saw that the tall, cylindrical one was a gunbarrell tank used to separate oil from salt water. There was a frenzy of activ
ity as crews worked on installing an oil rig pulling unit very similar to the ones Jake had used in West Texas. It was about double the height of a tall telephone pole.

  “Come on over and help us check out one of our pump jack well heads,” the supervisor said to Jake. “We’ve been having some trouble with this one, and it’s the same type we’re planning to use on our next set of wells. May need to trouble shoot these suckers, though. Tell me what you think. Then later I’d like to get your take on our plans for the new field. Sure is great to have you out here with us.”

  Jake beamed at the praise and set to work with the crews for the next several hours while Tripp watched the action, chatted with the supervisor, and thought about sending another email to Samantha. He checked his watch and decided it could wait a while. With the time difference, she probably wouldn’t even have a chance to read it for several hours. He had tried to give her a flavor of the trip so far, the places they had seen, the tenor of the negotiations, and especially Jake’s excitement at being out here as a top-flight consultant. She had answered his emails, but never said anything about her work. He knew she couldn’t send much over the internet. It would be like posting your agenda on Facebook for the whole world to see. She had told him she was invited to a bunch of social stuff, dinners and the usual D.C. events. He didn’t care much for the embassy circuit, but he did try to hit some of the receptions on the Hill, if only to keep up his contacts with members of the energy and resource committees. He was thinking about Samantha a lot these days. It was always this way when he was away from her. Even though he felt good about the deal they had struck back in Almaty, he was anxious to wrap up this field trip and get on the plane to Frankfurt.

  He leaned into the Jeep to check out one of their maps when suddenly he felt the ground begin to shake. “What the hell?” he shouted to Jake and the crew. “You guys have earthquakes over here?”