Plot counterplot, p.35
Plot/Counterplot, page 35
“You three go out the window. Take the cord and disappear beneath the water. I’ll distract.”
“Dylan,”Mikala said, “that doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does. It’s part of the plan, promise. Tolga can use my scuba gear. I’ll keep this guy busy until you’re clear.”
“Then give us the Key.”
Dylan shook his head. “That’s not how the plan works.”
The pounding at the door intensified.
“Go,” Dylan commanded.
“How will you get out?”
“I’ve got my own ride. Go.”
“But—”
“I’m in command of this op, remember? Get the hell out of here!”
The three reluctantly complied. Dylan passed through the acrylic divider just in time to see the outer door kicked open.
A burly MP stood on the other side.
He was holding a gun. Pointed at Dylan.
He spoke with an eerie, authoritative quiet. “Hands in the air. If you move, I will be forced to shoot.”
Dylan’s lips parted, but he couldn’t think of anything useful to say. He knew if he advanced with the taser, the guard would fire. “Look, this isn’t what it seems—”
“Quiet.”
“Just let me explain.”
“You’ll have your chance. After I’ve called for reinforcements.” He reached for his shoulder walkie-talkie.
If the MP called for help, it was game over for Team Taggart. “Don’t do that. You don’t need—”
“Stay where you are.” He thrust the weapon forward. “I will shoot.”
Dylan gritted his teeth together.
The MP pushed the Talk button. “Command, this is Sergeant Walker. We have an intruder, possibly—”
The instant his eyes diverted to the walkie-talkie, Dylan rushed him. He executed a horizontal flying dive and landed with a somersault. The MP pulled the trigger but Dylan was below the line of fire. He pushed up on his feet and knocked the gun away. The bullet ricocheted off the vault door.
The MP had the advantage of height, but Dylan had leverage. He wrapped himself around the man’s knees and knocked him to the ground. Another bullet flew into the ceiling.
The other sentries would have to be deaf not to hear.
Dylan would soon have company.
The MP rebounded with impressive quickness. He tossed Dylan three feet off the ground. Dylan wasn’t surprised. He didn’t suppose the Navy chose MPs who couldn’t handle themselves.
The MP thrust his fist toward Dylan’s chin. Dylan dodged, then threw a punch of his own. The MP caught it with his left hand and twisted his fist almost 180 degrees. It hurt.
Dylan flailed at the guard’s rib cage with his free arm. The MP swatted it away.
Dylan had to do something fast. If this turned into an Iron Man competition, he wasn’t going to win. He managed to grab the man’s neck and squeezed. A little pressure on the carotid artery never did anyone any good.
The MP knocked Dylan’s hand away. That hurt too, but it gave Dylan enough time to get out the taser and apply it to the back of the guard’s neck. He stiffened, then burst into violent spasms. A few seconds later, he was unconscious.
Dylan knew where he had to go. He would probably have the entire skeleton security crew breathing down his neck any moment.
“Xavier, it’s time for Plan J.”
“Understood.”
“I’ll be at the rendezvous point in one minute.”
“If late, I cannot help you.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Dylan raced down the corridor and started up the stairs.
Chapter 77
Once Dylan was in the uppermost part of the building, he locked the door and sealed it with a coolant spray that froze on contact and made the lock impossible to turn. He knew that wouldn’t hold the MPs forever.
Dylan ran to the wall-length window, but almost immediately heard heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.
“Open the door or we will fire!”
But since he was cornered, Dylan knew they wouldn’t, at least not until they had permission from their commanding officer, and that would take...oh, thirty seconds or so. Plenty of time.
He flipped the latch and pushed upward on the window. It wasn’t hermetically sealed, but it wasn’t easy to budge, either.
“We’ve been authorized to shoot if you don’t open up in ten seconds.”
Dylan didn’t have time to struggle with the window. He tossed a chair through it. Tiny pebbles of safety glass flew everywhere.
More pounding on the door. “You are on military property and we will take immediate action to secure...”
“Where are you, Xavier?” Dylan murmured. He’d lost radio communication, probably because Xavier was aloft. “Damn it. Where are you?”
Overhead he heard the slow approach of helicopter blades.
As soon as the copter entered PACOM airspace, it would be detected on radar. That’s why they didn’t come in that way. That’s also why Xavier couldn’t afford to linger. Every second he was a potential target.
“Thank God,” Dylan murmured. “I’m ready when you are.”
Outside the door, he heard assault rifles being armed. “Gentlemen, fire!”
A barrage of bullets ripped through the door.
“I’m out of here.” He walked to the far side of the tiny room, took a deep breath, and ran.
He hit the window and jumped into the cold night air.
A bullet whizzed by his head, so close he could feel the burn.
He was in midair. With nothing to protect him.
He overshot the mark and the rope ladder slapped his face. He grabbed for it, but his arms went around it, not through it. He fell.
He twisted in midair, trying to grab a piece of rope before it was too late. He managed to thrust an arm through one of the last rungs, stopping his descent with a jolt.
He heard a voice shouting from above. “You like being bulls-eye? Climb up!”
Obnoxious as ever, but his point was well taken. He forced his arms, even the aching one, into action. He climbed while bullets whizzed around him.
He scrambled through the open hatch, pulled the rope after him, and slid the door shut.
He was not alone.
Xavier sat at the front piloting, but the copter held twelve other men, six on each side, most of whom he recognized. They were the toughest men in the organization and armed for combat. Marco and Kalifa were among them. They had enough weapons to arm a battalion. Guns, assault rifles, grenades, even a high-powered bazooka.
Mr. X sat opposite the pilot. Dylan almost felt sorry for Xavier. She had to be the worst backseat driver imaginable.
“Bruise your pretty face, writer-boy?” Marco asked.
“Just doing my job,” Dylan replied. He found his seat and strapped himself in.
“You were detected,” Xavier shouted. “We lost element of surprise.”
But they’d always known that was a possibility. The plan was to get the Key to the particle accelerator before the Navy could reinforce it with more troops. “You have the EMP gun?”
“Mounted on base of copter. Firing...now.” Xavier threw a switch and a ten- gigawatt electromagnetic pulse surged downward from the rotors and blanketed the PACOM facility. The UH-60 was a larger, laser-sighted version of the tool commonly used by law enforcement agencies when battling computer crime, or to stop car chases before they became dangerous. The dish mounted to the copter’s chassis emitted a highly concentrated EMP. It would fry everything electronic below, including phones, hard drives, and land, sea, and air engines—thus making the Navy’s reaction time increase exponentially.
“They may guess where headed,” Xavier said. “They may try to track us on radar, though copter stealth-equipped. But there is little they can do. We be there in twelve minutes. Before they increase security. Weapon will be ours.”
Yes, Dylan thought, and there will be no power on earth that can prevent you from bringing your plans into full and final reality.
Except me.
Chapter 78
1:30 a.m.
2 hours, 20 minutes left
Seamus stared at a wide array of computer monitors, hoping to find something of use.
Leilani whispered. “This is making me dizzy.”
It was having the same effect on him, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “Take some Dramamine.”
“I can tough it out. I had a light breakfast.”
Dr. Jerrie’s conversation with Eustace had accomplished its purpose. Seamus had been promoted from rogue agent on a wild goose chase to premier savior of the Western world, at least at the NCTC. He didn’t miss the irony. After all, this neutrino project had been instigated by the US military. But the Navy brass were stonewalling, stalling, hedging, withholding information. Seamus wasn’t sure if that was because they wanted to maintain secreCy or because there was some cause for embarrassment, something that needed covering up. He and Leilani travelled to the Big Island to find out.
“The mad scientist told you so much about the accelerator, including all means of entrance and egress. Couldn’t you have gotten him to say where it was before he offed himself?”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize that info wasn’t in the file.”
With his newfound authority, Seamus had managed to find an officer who could patch him into the live satellite feed from the National Reconnaissance Office. They were studying aerial views of the Big Island. Slowly and painstakingly, they’d zeroed in on the larger volcanoes on the top third of the island. Even if the accelerator were underground, it would be impossible to hide all traces of anything so monumental.
Particle accelerators, Seamus learned, had existed since the early twentieth century. In their simplest form, you could find particle accelerators in any cathode ray television set. On the opposite end of the size scale, the Large Hadron Collider beneath the Franco-Swiss border was twenty-seven kilometers in circumference and accelerated protons to energies of 1.2 trillion electron volts apiece. Some scientists speculated that the Hadron project may have reached the peak for compensating for synchrotron radiation losses. They suggested that the next generation of accelerators would be liniacs—longer but not curved accelerators, which would be easier to construct.
Seamus longed for simpler days—bribing desert barbarians and smoking megalomaniacs out of caves.
“Zoom in closer,” Leilani said.
He squinted, trying to sharpen the fuzzy image. Was she seeing something he didn’t?
When the image resolved, he was amazed by the clarity. The technician told him these satellites had the ability to target a particular automobile and read the license plate. That didn’t augur well for personal privaCy, but it was a big assist for intelligence work.
“Something’s going on down there,” Leilani said. “Around Kohala.”
Seamus saw what attracted her attention, but he couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Kohala was in the midst of a large patch of undeveloped territory. There were few access roads. But not everything surrounding the volcano was natural. He could detect a glint of metal. “Can you get in any tighter?”
The satellite technician took a deep breath. “I can try.”
His efforts were impressive. It appeared to be a wind farm, energy collectors powered by giant turbines. Seamus knew Hawaii was at the forefront of alternative energy exploration—seawater, biomass, geothermal, solar panels, and tidal power.
Seamus spotted semitrailer trucks. A concrete mixer. And movement. People. He caught a glint off those moving heads, too, which meant either hardhats or helmets. Either way, it was informative.
“Something’s going on at that volcano,” Seamus murmured.
“You mean, beneath it.” She pointed to a tiny dot on the screen. “That’s the center of activity. I’m betting it’s an elevator shaft. Going down.”
“That must be where they built the collider. That’s where the physics anomaly is located.” She turned to the technician. “Can you get in any closer?”
“Sorry. This is the best I can manage here. I can save this data, however, and process it through a high-res filter. That will get you a better image. But the compilation will take hours.”
“Do it,” Seamus said.
“Are we really going to wait for that?” Leilani asked. The tone in her voice made it clear she did not want to wait for anything.
“No. But he’ll call me when he has something. It still might be useful.” Seamus returned his gaze to the image on the screens. Motor vehicles moved toward the volcano. Difficult to be certain, but he thought they were jeeps.
“How much do you know about volcanoes?” the technician asked.
Seamus shrugged. “I’m new to the islands.”
“I’m no geologist, but in Hawaii we get Volcano 101 in grade school. Here’s one thing I remember. The island volcanoes were created by hotspots—mantle plumes caused by tectonic plate boundaries converging on one another. But the disruption to the surface is not all above ground. These upheavals typically create huge caverns beneath the surface of the earth.”
“Huge enough to house a particle accelerator?”
“Definitely.”
“And if the cavern was the source of a unique anomaly, which allowed them to do something they could not do anywhere else on earth, it would be worth the trouble.” That settled it. Time to go. “As soon as you have a clearer picture, send the images to my cell.”
“Will do.”
Leilani followed him to the door. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”
“Leilani, I’ve told you how ruthless these people are. This is likely to be extremely hazardous.”
“So you might need help. Don’t waste your breath. I haven’t come this far to drop out now.”
He didn’t like the idea. But the truth was—she’d earned the right.
“Let’s get going,” Leilani said, urging him toward the door. “We don’t have a moment to spare. Not if we want to stop these people.” She paused. “Not if we want to save Dylan.”
Chapter 79
2:01 a.m.
1 hour, fifty-nine minutes left
Xavier opened the door of the helicopter the instant it landed, even before the blades stopped churning. His men poured out behind him, locked and loaded.
“Give me Key. Now.”
Dylan complied. “You need to be sprayed. Everyone does.”
Xavier grunted.
Dylan removed the spray bottle from its compartment on the copter. “Neutrino radiation will give you a suntan that doesn’t go away. Until it kills you.”
Frowning, Xavier allowed Dylan to spray him and his soldiers.
“Now. Follow me. But remember, Dylan.” Xavier glanced at his watch. “Less than two hours before nanites explode in brain. Do not try to escape.”
“I won’t.”
“After we finish mission, I turn nanites off. Not before.”
After we finish mission, Dylan thought, you’ll kill me. But he’d known that all along.
Dylan followed Xavier down a dirt road toward a seemingly auspicious square-cut building. It looked like a huge cinder block with a door. Xavier and his men carried AK-47 assault rifles, bayonets attached.
They rounded a corner on the walkway. Dylan could see the front doors of the building—and what looked like five guards stationed in front. They were watching, armed and ready.
“They heard the copter,” Dylan said.
“As we knew they would.” Xavier held Dylan back with the palm of his hand. They struggled for a moment—and Dylan quietly slid his hand into Xavier’s pocket. “You remain here. Safe. When I give you signal, come.” He waved his men forward. “Move out! Fire on sight!”
They raced onward, guns blazing. Dylan knew the Navy sentries would be insufficient to stop this army of blood-thirsty killers. Apparently, the pulse had worked. These men had received no notice from PACOM.
Dylan kept his distance from the gunfire. He wished there were some way he could prevent the bloodbath that was sure to follow. The best thing he could do was stay clear. So he could implement the next phase of the plan.
Bullets flew on both sides. Even from his distance, Dylan could see blood splattering. He heard the death cries, the lethal impacts, the thunderous sound of gunfire. This was perhaps the most horrific spectacle he had witnessed in his entire life—but only a shadow of what might occur if Xavier and Mr. X obtained control of the weapon.
* * *
After they scaled the fence, Seamus and Leilani observed the sandstone building he guessed was the top level of an elevator descending to a liniac particle accelerator.
How could he get in? Seamus wondered. There was no one he could call, no one he could beg for a pass. How could he ask for a pass into something he wasn’t supposed to know existed?
And while he pondered this imponderable, a large assault copter landed near the front entrance. At least a dozen of what appeared to be paramilitary troops poured out of the copter. Shortly after, guards streamed out of the building to meet them.
Seamus retrieved his binoculars and took a closer look. A major battle was being fought at the elevator. All hands were firing, but the military guards were outnumbered.
“Leilani, you need to go back.”
“Would you stop with that already?”
“I’m serious this time. You can’t come with me.”
“I’ve come this far. I’m not going to quit now. I don’t need to be protected—”
“Do you want Dylan back?”
“You know I do.”
“This is some kind of major-league assault and the military are not prepared for it. If I don’t make it out, someone has to report back to NCTC. That’s gonna be you.”
“You may need my help.”
“If I do, I’ll call your cell. Meanwhile, I want you to get back in that car and drive away. At least ten miles away. Somewhere safe.”
“But—”
“Leilani, just this once, listen to me. You’re the backup plan. I can’t operate effectively unless I know you’re safe.”
