by Tom Haase
The next thing Mary Jean heard was, "General Bergermeyer, this is General Forsman. Why do you want me to send that asset to your man?"
"General, that man is the president’s own operative, and he is trying to stop the detonation of an atomic weapon in Atlanta when the president lands. I need my request acted on now. Use me as the scapegoat if anything goes wrong, but I need it ASAP."
"Is that Matt Higgins you're requesting the assistance for?"
"Yes, it is."
General Forsman said, "I remember when he was my student and we shared that terrible day on 9/11. He's a special man. I’ll order what you asked for, ETA ten minutes. When it’s over I’d like to talk to him. Good luck." The phone went dead.
Mary Jean breathed for the first time in what seemed like forever. Now she dialed Matt.
"Your helicopter will be at the location requested. It should be there in less than ten minutes."
* * *
Matt shut the phone. "We’ve got to move. A chopper will pick us up about a half mile from here at the park we passed coming into this area. How are you feeling?"
"My head is still hurting like hell. I want a chance to return the favor to that goon," Bridget said, rubbing her hand over the back of her head.
Matt helped her to the door. "You know, we wouldn’t have a quick way into the airfield if the chopper wasn’t coming. The woman has a pass and the code to get in. Yuri must intend to have her get him into the airport." He stopped to open the door for Bridget. "How do you think the Russians are planning to get in?"
"Don't know. Hopefully, they won’t . . . or will get hung up . . .or security will respond if they try to break in," said Bridget.
"I think you’re hurt too bad to go on. You should stay here."
"No friggin’ way. Let’s go," said Bridget, moving to get into the car. "We have weapons in the trunk and we need to get them."
He opened the trunk. "Here’s yours," said Matt, "and I’ll take the rifle as well." He handed her a weapon.
They arrived at the park, where they heard the chopper blades whipping the air in the distance. Both glanced up to see the approaching helicopter.
"I see you called for a limo," Bridget jibed.
"Yes, but I forgot to wear my tux," he said with a smile and touched her shoulder. "I don’t want you to get hurt."
"I know, but we both took this job on and we’ll both finish it."
They walked in a crouch to the UH-60M Blackhawk Sikorsky helicopter to get on board. This chopper, Matt knew, delivered more power, had enhanced capabilities, with outstanding survivability in combat, and was the all-around best choice for a military utility helicopter. This bird, the latest and greatest, was on duty to support the president’s trip to Atlanta.
Matt showed the pilot his credentials, and they boarded the chopper. Once seated, Matt took a headset and talked to the pilot. "Get us to the control tower at Hartsfield International as fast as you can."
"I can’t go there, it’s restricted airspace, sir."
"Didn’t you get a directive from the national command center to follow my orders?"
"Yes, but that’s illegal with the president landing there soon."
"Mister, I’m giving you a direct order on behalf of the president to proceed directly to the control tower at Hartsfield by the most expeditious route. If you have a problem, you can get it from him, followed by a summons for your court martial for disobeying a direct command from the commander-in-chief. Am I clear?"
Matt took off the headset and dialed his cell. The pilot nodded his head, and the chopper then lifted off the ground. He heard the president answer his personal cell.
"Hello Matt. What's happened?" the president said with his Virginia intonation.
"Mr. President, I think you should not land at Atlanta. I’m sure that there will be an attempt to detonate an atomic device when you land. We know they got it into the country."
"We’re only a few minutes out. What proof do you have, Matt?"
"Sir, we don’t have much time. I've tracked them from Savannah to Atlanta. The trail ended at the home of an FAA flight controller. I believe the Russian kidnapped or murdered her to get access to the control tower. They know you’re landing shortly." Matt was gasping for breath and tried to speak over the noise of the helicopter's rotors. He continued, "The man has the weapon with him. Bridget and I are on the way to the airport to intercept him."
Matt waited. The president remained quiet. He must be on hold, he thought, as the President didn’t come back for a couple of minutes. Then he heard, "Matt, I can’t turn the plane around just yet, and I'm relying on you. If there’s an atomic weapon in Atlanta you must find it before we land." The phone call ended with the president hanging up.
"He won’t turn the plane around," he said to Bridget. "What the hell is going on?"
Bridget grabbed his shoulder and talked into his ear to reduce the noise interference inside the helicopter. "There must be more to this than we think. We’ve got to get to that control tower and get that weapon."
Matt sat back and hoped the pilot could get them there in time to prevent a catastrophe.
48
Atlanta, GA — 2 PM
The cell on the driver’s belt chimed on their way to the Atlanta airport. Ravshan looked at it. "This has to be for you, Colonel. It has the director’s phone number that you called on the ID." He handed the phone over.
Andrei took it and heard, "Is this Colonel Ivanov?"
"Yes," he answered to the female voice of the director’s secretary. Then he heard the voice of the director.
"Colonel, what’s the situation? The president wants an update before he makes a decision on what to tell the American president, if he has to tell him."
"We are in close pursuit of Yuri Borisov. We know where he’s going and we believe his goal is to set the weapon off when the president lands in Atlanta, in about a half hour. We‘re attempting to intercept him in a few minutes." Anton didn’t want to say anything else for fear the director might try to orchestrate his plan to take credit and maintain deniability if it failed.
"I’ll inform our president of your actions and expect to hear from you in a few minutes on the successful conclusion of your mission. You understand what failure means." The director disconnected.
Anton put down the phone and stared out the window. The bastard remained in Moscow, making sure his ass stayed covered if this operation went south and that Anton would be the scapegoat. Politicians were all the same—slimy, two-tongued lying bastards. If they ever did what they ordered military men to do there would be no wars, no nuclear confrontations and possibly no terrorists trying to placate political masters by their actions. Then again, maybe not, since human nature still would not change.
He turned his head back to the front of the car he said. "We’ve got to get to the entrance of the control tower. We passed signs for the airport on the way in. How long to get there from here?"
"Best guess would be ten minutes," Ravshan said. Igor sat in the back and said nothing.
They pulled off the interstate onto the airport road and followed the sign to the cargo area. The control tower appeared in the distance, but Hartsfield International Airport covered 4,700 acres and employed 53,000 of all types needed to operate an airport of this size.
As they drove around the outer road, they passed cargo airlines loading docks, a Georgia Power truck with two men in yellow jackets laying out cable beside the road, and four yellow DHL trucks. They eventually drove by the gate that displayed an "FAA employees only" entrance sign. It led into a three-story parking garage with elevators to the top, and after passing the garage, they could see a one-hundred-foot walkway to the entrance of the tower door. The gate to enter the garage had a security box to allow access to the workers. Anton assumed the tower would have one also.
"If we try to crash through there, the alarm will sound, and they’ll be on us with many weapons before we can get to him, if he’s here," said Igor.
&nbs
p; "We know that, and we don’t plan to get killed here," Ravshan said. He looked into the backseat, and starred at Igor in the rearview mirror.
"Turn around and go back the way we came," Anton ordered. Ravshan accomplished the maneuver and proceeded past the FAA entrance for a quarter of a mile.
"I want you to pull up behind the Georgia Power truck. We will capture it and take those two workers as prisoners. I’ll force them into the back of the van, and we’ll take their yellow jackets. Igor, you drive the van back to the FAA entrance. Ravshan and I will get in the back, secure the men, and take their garments. No killing. We don’t want a trail of blood to follow us." Anton drew his weapon as the car pulled up behind the van.
Anton and Ravshan got out and approached the men. Less than five feet away Anton showed the gun and said, "Don’t move. We will not harm you if you do as you’re told. Get into the back of the van." He pointed with his weapon, and Ravshan stood beside him in a manner that hid the weapon from any passing car. They were lucky. No vehicles passed as they forced the two men into the van.
Inside, they took off the worker’s yellow safety jackets, tied the two up with wire they found in the truck, shoved rags into their mouths, and secured more wire around their necks and heads. They couldn’t move, run, or make a noise with the bonds in place.
Igor got into the driver seat and turned the van toward the FAA gate. A red car was entering the FAA area, and the gate closed behind it. The car disappeared into the garage as they stopped the van next to the security box.
"Now we get out and pretend we are working on the security box. Take some of their wire and tools and place them on the ground near it."
In less than a minute, they appeared to be fixing the security system at the gate. Anton continued, "Someone will come by to go in, and I want Igor walking up and down on the road about fifty meters from here. As soon as the car arrives, you come up on the side away from the security box, where the person will be inserting the card to get in. Ravshan and I will take them from the open window side, but just in case, I want you to be ready to point a gun at the driver from the passenger side. Any questions?" Neither indicated they had any. He and Ravshan put on the yellow vests of the power workers as he finished talking.
"We force them to drive in and park. We put them in the trunk after tying them up with wire from the truck, then we head for the tower with their security pass to gain access."
They both nodded and Igor started to walk off as a car approached and slowed to turn in. "Get ready," Anton commanded. He checked at his watch, which displayed 2:00 p.m. He realized this would be close.
The car rolled to a stop by the security box, Anton and Ravshan pretended to work on. The driver rolled down her window and looked at the two. She shook her head and said, "Hey, you boys is at the wrong place. We have our own security people to handle this box."
Anton produced the gun and pointed it straight into a young black woman's face.
49
Atlanta, GA — Earlier At 11:44 AM
Yuri reached behind his back and under his shirt to where he hid his pistol as he approached the car in Marilyn's garage. He stayed his hand as he saw she hadn’t opened the case, "I was looking for you," he said in a loud voice.
She seemed startled and raised herself from the bent-over position in the trunk of the car. "Sorry, I came out here to find my sunglasses before I go to work. I thought I might’ve left them in the trunk when we unpacked the car. By the way, Yuri, what’s in the case? You didn’t take it in, so it must not be clothes."
Yuri moved his hand from behind his back and reached out to touch her cheek. As he did so, he used his other hand to fondle her.
"Come on. We just got out of bed, and I have to get ready to go to work. What are you going to do?"
"I need to get to downtown Atlanta to meet my contact. We have been communicating on the Internet. Why don’t we get ready, and I’ll take you to lunch on the way to your job, and then I’ll get a taxi to my meeting?"
"Will you tell me what it’s about at lunch?"
"I promise. Let’s get moving."
She gave him a kiss and broke the embrace as she headed for the door into the house. Yuri glanced at the case and noticed that the latches remained closed. She hadn’t seen inside. He shut the trunk and tagged along after her.
Yuri paced back and forth while he waited for her to finish her makeup. He sat down and retrieved his laptop, sending an email to Fatimah on his location and his intention to be at the airport at 1400 hours local. The weapon would detonate at 1440 hours.
Marilyn walked out of the bedroom, and they headed for the red Lexus at 11:45.
"Why don’t we stop and get a light lunch at my Italian place not far from here?" Marilyn asked.
"Sounds good to me. I’m getting hungry. What time do you plan to get to your work?"
"About two or a few minutes after. I’m going to meet my friend, Honey Jo, before we go on duty to have a girl talk. Of course, I won’t mention you." She giggled.
At the restaurant, Marilyn ordered for both of them and then sat back in the booth and asked, "What are you doing in Atlanta, and what’s with the case?"
Yuri used the time to deliver the plausible explanation he’d devised earlier. "I have a meeting with the deputy director of Georgia Power to discuss a refinement to the nuclear generators they use to produce electricity."
"Wow! You really know about nuclear reactors? I thought you were kidding before."
“Well, yes. I worked in that field in Russia. During my time with the department there, I developed a system to increase the output of the nuclear generators by between four point two and four point nine percent.” Yuri smiled as he finished this point.
"Doesn’t sound like much. A few percentage points," Marilyn said.
"Believe me, it’s a quantum leap forward. An increase of one half of one percent could save the company millions of dollars and give them a greater profit margin."
"What’s that got to do with the suitcase?"
"In the case, I have a small mechanical model needed to produce the results I told you about."
"Why, once you show them the model, they’ll know how to build it, won’t they?" asked Marilyn. She moved aside to allow the waitress to put the food in front of them.
"Not really. The model could be copied, but without the mathematical formulas and the coefficients, they would not be able to make it work."
"So, that’s your game. You’ll sell the information to make it operate?"
"Something like that," Yuri responded. He took out a cigarette and lit it. She had said she didn't mind.
"Will you make a lot of money?"
"If they buy it, I’ll become a millionaire." He realized that she could be influenced by that prospect, so he would not mention his secret millions.
"When do you meet with these guys?"
"At three this afternoon."
"I’ll tell you what. We’ll go to where I work. You take my car and go to the meeting. Then you can pick me up after ten and let me know if you’re a millionaire."
"That would be super. Thank you. I’ll do that." Yuri could almost see the wheels rotating in her head as to how to land a millionaire, but he’d just removed the last obstacle to getting into the FAA control area to place the bomb.
On leaving the restaurant, Marilyn drove the car to the airport. It took thirty-five minutes, and she arrived a minute before two at the security gate to the FAA area. She rolled down the window and inserted her badge into the slot, and the gate opened. She went under the overhang entrance to the three-story parking garage and pulled into a space near the elevator.
"I can take the elevator up and you can take the car."
"Does that badge get you into everything around here?"
"Not everything, but it gets me into all the FAA facilities." She reached over and gave him a kiss. "Good luck with your meeting, and I’ll be at the gate for you to pick me up at five minutes after eleven. Okay?"
"
Sure," he said. They both got out of the car and met at the rear bumper. Another kiss, and as Marilyn started to go, Yuri pulled the weapon and hesitated a second. No, don’t kill her, he thought. She might be useful in his getaway after he set the bomb, since he planned to get as far away as possible in thirty minutes. That was the time he’d planned to set on the atomic device. He took a step after her and slammed the barrel of the pistol into the back of her head. She went down. He rushed to the driver’s side of the car, as the keys were in the ignition, found the button to open the trunk, pressed it, picked her up, and put her in it. After retrieving the case, he relieved her of the FAA ID badge, slammed the trunk lid closed, and headed for the elevator.
Yuri checked for surveillance cameras and didn’t see any. They must not consider this an area that requires oversight, he thought, but he observed a camera on the gatepost where she’d slid her badge to gain entrance to the garage. Reassured, he walked to the elevator, pushed the button and waited. He knew what he must do. Get to the tower. Get inside and up to a high floor. There he would set the timer for thirty minutes.
The president’s plane would be on the ground and he would be on I-75 going south. Thirty minutes would allow him ample time to get out of the danger area, and he would continue on to Florida. Then he thought better of taking the elevator and decided to take the steps. Someone might get into the elevator with him and not know him as an FAA employee. He walked a few feet to the right, pushed open the door to the stairwell, and started up the three flights of stairs, unaware of the Georgia Power truck that pulled up to the security gate.
50
Hartsfield International Airport, Atlanta — 2:02 PM
Igor opened the passenger-side door and jumped in, pointing his weapon at the black woman. He could see the fear in her eyes. Anton and Ravshan got into the backseat. Anton heard Ravshan’s cell phone beep with an incoming email, and he glanced over to see him look at it, then quickly put the phone away.
