The gray-haired woman gave a brief nod, but Bobby saw no welcome there.
“Please sit down, gentlemen. I’m having some refreshments brought in, but we will await the arrival of Governor Schultz before we commence the briefing.”
“But Mrs. President,” Yuri began.
Buchanan put up her hand. “I’m sorry, Colonel, I’m sure you’re eager to make your report and, once that’s done, you will both be refreshed and given somewhere to recover from your efforts, but we have an agreement with the governor that we will share all data. I’m sure he will not be long.”
They sat, and a pot of coffee was brought in along with what Bobby considered to be the finest sandwiches he’d ever tasted. Buchanan asked them both some biographical questions as a laptop was brought in and placed beside Yuri.
Finally, the door swung open and a large man walked red-faced into the briefing room, followed by two black-suited security guards. He looked at Lundberg first, and Bobby thought he saw something pass between them, before he nodded to the president and then, while still making his way to a vacant chair, gestured at Yuri.
“So this is the astronaut, is it? Boy, you sure have been hard to find.”
Buchanan’s face tightened. “Are you saying you knew that Colonel Sharipov had landed?”
“Sure I did; I got news from Ragtown. And this here, I guess, is the deserter, Roberto Rodriguez.”
“He is not deserter!” Yuri snapped. “You are Schultz?”
The big man reddened further. “Pr…Governor Schultz to you.”
“I have heard you called other things,” Yuri said.
Buchanan jabbed a finger at Schultz. “Why didn’t you tell me that one of the ISS crew had landed?”
Schultz cast her a dismissive glance. “It’s a domestic matter. Happened in my jurisdiction. As soon as my people had laid hands on him, I’d have brought him to you, just like I agreed. Barclay,” he added, looking at a guard standing by the door, “take the deserter into custody.”
The man stepped forward, but Buchanan put her hand up. “Stop! I will hear the full account before any action is taken.”
“Do I have to remind you, Madam President, that you are here as my guest in my state capital?”
“And do I have to remind you, Governor, that I am President of the United States and my orders supersede yours? Now, Mr. Rodriguez, please explain yourself.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Bobby could see that Schultz was barely controlling his temper. “Madam President, I was part of a patrol sent by Ragtown to intercept the descent capsule and secure its occupants.”
“I was only survivor, Mrs. President, as I will tell you when I get chance.” After waiting so long to tell his story, Yuri was obviously impatient. “Bobby pulled me out and protected me when others tried to capture me. We have traveled across country to bring intelligence to you. Many times we have been in danger, but my friend never gave up. He has child and wife in Ragtown and could have gone there, but he stayed with me. He knows how important it is that I speak.”
“My information is that he killed the rest of his squad and stole a Humvee,” Schultz said.
Bobby jabbed a finger at the governor. “Why would I do that? My friends were betrayed by another member of the squad. I’d be some sort of idiot if I did all that and then gave myself up here, wouldn’t I?” Behind Schultz, his two bodyguards stirred, their hands moving toward weapons concealed beneath their jackets.
“Maybe you think the president will protect you,” Schultz said.
“And maybe she will,” Buchanan said as Agent Delmont moved to her shoulder protectively. “But, for now, you can remain where you are, Mr. Rodriguez. You are, forgive me, the sideshow. Colonel Sharipov is the main attraction.”
Yuri breathed out in relief. “I can use computer? I have images.”
At a nod from Buchanan, he pulled the laptop toward him and inserted the SD card.
“I hope that isn’t connected to the internet, Madam President,” Schultz said. “He is a Russian, after all.”
Yuri shot him a venomous glance but, before he could say anything, the first image appeared, projected onto the wall. “This is Antarctic Peninsula. Image is taken out of Cupola. It is foreshortened because ISS does not pass over Antarctica, so photo is taken at oblique angle. Notice lack of ice.”
He pointed at the image. It showed the tip of Chile, or the part of it still above water, extending like a finger from the top of the photo as if reaching for a similarly shaped landmass extending out of Antarctica.
“It’s brown,” Buchanan said. “But, isn’t that to be expected considering what we believe about the cause of the flood?” She directed this question to Else Lundberg, who’d been sitting, glowering quietly, up until this point.
“Yes. The flood event was caused by a rapid phase change of the Antarctic ice sheet. It is logical that this would leave the former subsurface exposed.”
“Agreed,” Yuri said. “But observe sequence as ISS approaches.”
Bobby watched as the photos changed, moving closer to ISS’s lowest latitude before it began to climb again toward the tropics.
“You see? There,” Yuri said, pausing the playback and moving over to gesture at the wall.
“What is that?” Buchanan asked. “Some sort of base?”
“Da, built after the ice went. I will zoom in more.”
The picture became more and more grainy as it grew bigger, but the general shape was unmistakable. “It looks like an oil rig,” Bobby said.
Buchanan turned to Lundberg. “What do you think, Professor?”
“I am not an expert on oil rigs. At least, not on their construction. My entire career has been focused on the effects of the petrochemical industry on the environment.”
Behind her, the big man with the yellow mustache drifted closer, his hands restless.
“I reckon that’s the least of our problems,” Schultz said dismissively. “I say the more oil, the better. We gotta rebuild, after all.”
Yuri shrugged. “I guess it depends on who has got oil. If Yankees have oil, they are happy. If Chinese have oil, Yankees are not so happy, I think.”
Bobby couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticlimax. He’d crossed half the country, abandoning his partner and child and risking his life, to tell the president that the Chinese had built an oil rig on Antarctica? Sure, they’d be breaking a dozen international treaties, but those weren’t worth the paper they were written on in this new world. And, yes, this place looked massive—it spread for miles, and he could see a huge oil slick bleeding out from the peninsula. It was a complete refinery with groups of buildings each performing its own function, and ships off shore to transport it. But still, it seemed to him that the United States, or whatever it was becoming, had bigger fish to fry, most of them domestic.
“Well, I appreciate the report,” Buchanan said, and Bobby could see that she was equally disappointed. “We will, of course, provide you with accommodations and a chance to recover from your journey.”
Yuri put his hand up. “Mrs. President, I have not finished.”
“Oh, I think you have,” Schultz said, wagging a fat finger at Yuri. He began hauling himself upright. “You’ve wasted enough of my time today. I’m a busy man.”
“Oh, I know that,” Yuri said. “I have been to, what is place, Bobby?”
Bobby felt his insides turn to ice. Yuri was playing a dangerous game with both of their lives. He was about to toss a grenade into a fireworks factory. “Crown Hill Park.”
Instantly, Schultz froze, but before anyone else could speak, Yuri said, “I have something else to show you, Mrs. President.”
Yuri found the file he was looking for and double-clicked to open an Excel spreadsheet. It had several rows of figures and, alongside them, an autogenerated bar chart.
Out of the corner of his eye, Bobby saw Lundberg’s face tighten. Then she glanced at Schultz, who looked back at her with a puzzled expression.
“What are we
looking at, Colonel?” Buchanan asked.
“ISS has scientific array, taking many automatic measurements. Horizontal axis represents position along line of latitude from east to west. ISS orbits in approximately ninety minutes at fifty-five-degree slant. Takes around a day to cover Earth’s surface except for poles.”
Buchanan shifted impatiently. “Please cut to the chase. I see a bar graph with one massive peak.”
“Sorry, Mrs. President, but is important you understand. Peak is over Antarctic base and represents one hundred times increase on background.”
“And what is it measuring, Colonel?”
“Radiation, Mrs. President. I believe the Chinese are mining uranium. Much uranium.”
There was a moment of absolute silence as Buchanan gaped openmouthed at Yuri.
“That’s insane!” Schultz said, getting to his feet in such a performance that Bobby almost didn’t notice one of the governor’s two henchmen leaving. Agent Delmont, on the other hand, stood just behind Buchanan as she banged the table.
“Governor, please be quiet! I said, be quiet!”
Schultz turned his fleshy face in her direction and paused, as if considering what she was saying. The momentary silence was broken by the distant sounds of gunfire.
And in that instant, Schultz’s remaining bodyguard appeared behind Agent Delmont and, in one movement, pressed his M9 against her head while simultaneously removing her sidearm from its holster.
“What the h—” Buchanan spat, jumping to her feet.
Bobby went to move, but the bodyguard turned his weapon on him while gripping Delmont around the throat.
Schultz nodded to Lundberg, who, in turn, gestured to the man with the yellow mustache. “Helmut, take the president into custody, please.”
From outside came the sounds of gunfire.
Jager moved to where Buchanan sat and took her arm. She struggled for a moment, but instantly realized it was futile. “Is this a coup, Schultz?”
“It is a transfer of power, Mrs. Buchanan. This country needs true, effective leadership, and powerful allies.”
“But my staff!”
“They are all in custody or dead. Now all that remains is to tidy things up here.” He drew a revolver from within his capacious jacket and blew the laptop off the table, sending Yuri, who’d sat with his mouth open for the few seconds the coup had taken, scrambling for cover.
“I had hoped to delay this for a few more days,” Schultz said, “but the appearance of our friend here forced my hand. You see, leaders are decisive, Mrs. Buchanan. Now, Mr. Jager, kill them. Beginning with her.”
The man with the yellow mustache drew his weapon. “My orders were to secure the president. No mention was made of executions.”
Schultz turned to his bodyguard, who was holding Agent Delmont, his weapon to her ribs. “Then you do it, Barclay. Begin with her.”
The bodyguard nodded, pushed Delmont to the floor and aimed his weapon at her.
“No! That is not what was agreed. Professor Lundberg!” Jager shouted.
“It is not for us to interfere in politics, Helmut. It is a nasty business, but I believe Chester knows best. What has been revealed here must not go beyond this room. I’m afraid that necessitates bloodshed.”
“Then you knew about the uranium mining?” Jager said, shock obvious on his face.
Lundberg nodded solemnly. “Nuclear energy is clean. It was to be our salvation.”
“How is it our salvation if nuclear power is in the hands of our enemies?”
Schultz wagged a fat finger at Helmut. “Enemies? Don’t mean much now the world’s all gone to hell.”
“And nuclear can be used for more than only power,” Yuri said, coming to stand alongside Bobby. “Some of those structures in picture could be launch platforms.”
“Enough!” Schultz roared. “Time to end this!”
“Helmut, carry out my orders,” Lundberg said. “You know who will pay if you disobey me. She suffered before, when the Minotaur went down. But I will not be merciful this time.”
For a moment, Helmut locked eyes with her. Then he nodded, shrugged and, pulling the president around so she staggered to the side, put two rounds in the head of the bodyguard who had hold of Lexa Delmont.
Lundberg let out a shriek of fright and Yuri gasped as Schultz brought his revolver clumsily around to point at the president. Bobby leaped at the big man, grasping for the hand that held the weapon.
Schultz cursed and then shot once, twice, until Yuri fell onto him and he finally let go of the weapon.
Bobby looked across as Helmut moved to stand above him, his gun pointing directly at the governor’s head.
“No!” Bobby said.
“He has killed my security team,” Helmut said as fists banged on the door.
“We need a hostage! We’ve got to get the president out of here!”
Helmut looked down at Schultz’s quivering jowls, then swung around to point his weapon at Lundberg who sat, frozen to the spot.
Buchanan stepped in front of her. “No!”
“She knows why she must die,” he spat.
“If you kill me, you will never know where she is. You’ll never see her again.”
“At least she will be alive.”
“I wouldn’t have done anything to her! I only said that to make you obey me. Please! Please don’t kill me!”
Bobby could see the rage in the big man’s face, and knew that he was only barely keeping himself under control.
“Helmut, this is bigger than any of us,” Buchanan said. “Professor Lundberg deserves to die. I know that well enough. But she is also one of the few true experts in her field left alive.”
“There is Rath.”
Buchanan nodded, glancing across at Lexa as she stood with her back against the door. “Yes, but we have Lundberg here. Her mind is too precious to put a bullet in. Now, please help Agent Delmont keep us safe for now. You, Mr. Rodriguez, please take the weapon from the unfortunate Barclay and cover our hostages.”
“And what will you do?” Bobby asked.
“Think of a way out of this mess.”
Chapter 19
Booker
They were driving toward a golden dawn rising along CA-18 when the radio squawked into life.
“10-17, 10-17, sheriff’s office. All squads, please respond. Officer down.”
“Bollocks,” Patrick said from the back seat. “They’ve found him.”
“You didn’t hurt the sergeant, did you?” Jodi asked, having woken up from a doze.
Patrick shook his head. “’Course not. He was very cooperative.”
“What do we do?” Ellie asked.
“We either find another car, or we stick with this one and hope we can get out of range before we’re spotted,” Joel said.
“I wouldn’t mind getting out of here,” Patrick said. “I feel like I’ve been arrested.” He tapped on the scratched plexiglass that separated the front seats from the back.
“I say we stick to the plan,” Joel said. “These days, if folk see a police car coming, they look the other way. It’s only if we bump into another squad car that we’d be in trouble.”
“They don’t have helicopters, then?”
“Sure, but they need a fix first. As long as we keep below the radar, we should be okay.”
“All squads. Situation resolved. All squads be on the lookout for Squad 5: supervisor’s vehicle. Contains suspects considered armed and dangerous. When sighted, 21 your 20 via cell. This channel is likely compromised. Acknowledge.”
They listened to a roll call of active cars.
“Maybe we struck lucky. Only a few on duty. There’ll be plenty more in ten minutes, but they’ll be starting from scratch and we’ll be long gone by the time they catch up with us,” Joel said, before putting his foot down again.
Jodi knocked on the plexiglass. “Don’t these cars have trackers? Like GPS?”
Joel shrugged. “Not that I’ve ever heard of, and I don’t
think they’d be putting out an A.P.B. if they knew where we were. Relax, Jode. It’ll be okay.”
Ellie looked through the window as they neared a city, passing car showrooms, rental places and repair shops. She couldn’t help thinking that someone was trying to give them a hint. But there was no point attempting to persuade the others—and Joel in particular—he was, at least in part, living his dream. “Did you ever play a cop?”
“Sure. One of my earliest jobs was on NYPD Blue. I was generally a detective, though, not a beat cop.”
Ellie smiled to herself as she heard Patrick lean forward. “I was on The Bill,” he said. “Regular part as a constable. I was the love interest for a few episodes.”
“And now you’re a real-life criminal,” Ellie said, turning to him. “I’m much more interested in how you…did all this.”
Patrick leaned back in his seat and looked out of the window. “It was a bloke called Earl’s doing, really. He was there when I woke up, and he told me you’d gone without me.”
“We didn’t have a choice, we had to…”
He raised his hand. “No, you didn’t. You should have waited. That’s what partners do. But, anyway, I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to do anything immediately, so I planned a route and got all the information I could before setting off. Earl said he wanted to come with me, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“He was at the house when I got back from the hotel,” Joel said.
Patrick leaned forward again, and Ellie couldn’t help thinking the two of them were competing for attention. “He was in a right state. Couldn’t get any sense out of him to start with.”
“How did you get past Edwards?” Ellie asked.
“Oh, it wasn’t so hard. You see, love, there’s two ways you can go about things—there’s the subtle, sneaky way that involves driving along miles of dirt roads to skirt around the obstacle, and there’s acting like if you shout loud enough, the world will rearrange itself around you.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “You chose the second, I suppose? Only kidding. Point taken. I’m glad you came for us.”
Patrick relaxed and slumped into place again. She regarded him for a few moments. Good grief, he must be exhausted. When presented with the perfect opportunity to spin a long yarn with him as the hero, he stripped it to the bare bones.
Lost: Deluge Book 5: (A Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Story) Page 17