"Well, he's real busy right now. We request that observers just watch for a while as things develop. We're still setting up and all the emergency positions aren't filled yet," Shelia said.
"I understand, but I need you to take me to whoever is in charge . . . now. If you can't, then I'll find him myself. I need information and I need it now," Amanda said, as they exited the escalator.
"Okay . . . since you insist, I'll take you to Emergency Operations Director Madison. He can update you on what we know at this time," Sheila said, somewhat put off by the tone in Amanda's voice.
"Thank you, that would be appreciated," Amanda said.
They walked into the Command Room. It was almost silent. The people who were talking were communicating in hushed tones, as they set up their stations and assumed the various emergency positions. The front of the huge room was all glass. It overlooked a larger room ten feet below . . . the room they called the Pit. It reminded Amanda of the old NASA Control Rooms, where dozens of people sat at their consoles monitoring data as rockets leapt into space. The wall on the far side of that room was one large video display, split into dozens of screens. They displayed national news, local news, weather, satellite views, CCTV of areas near the plant, live scenes of Harris and drone cameras. One man stood alone at the window observing the organized chaos below, in the Pit.
"That's EOD Brian Madison. He's in charge of everything," Sheila said, as she turned and walked away, glad to be rid of the pushy young woman.
Amanda worked her way through the various state agencies represented in the Command Room. She could tell by the layout, that the area was designed to funnel information in one direction, toward the Emergency Operations Director.
"Director Madison, I'm Agent Amanda Langford. I'm here from the CIA, and I need an update on the emergency," Amanda said, as she stepped up beside him, presented her ID, and began studying the various monitors on the far wall.
He turned his head, first looking at her, and then her ID, before saying, "We've had drills for just about everything you can imagine. Hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, riots . . . we've done it all. A General Emergency at Harris was, of course, high on the list. But a terrorist takeover of the plant, and a threat to blow up the plant with a nuclear bomb . . . that wasn't on the list of possible occurrences."
"I didn't know that particular piece of information had become common knowledge," Amanda said.
"After the President's speech the other night, it doesn't take a genius to read between the lines. Besides, the NRC representative from the plant was in here talking to me ten minutes ago. We've started countywide evacuations. Upwind evacuations are trickier. Luckily, the weather patterns are predicted to be stable for the next week or so. To further complicate things, I have a number of staff members who have decided to evacuate with their families rather than come here and fill their assigned positions. I can't say as I blame them, but that's slowing things down," Director Madison said, as he turned, and began studying the monitors again.
"At least the public is taking this seriously. This late at night, and the roads are starting to fill up. We haven't expanded our primary road system for 20 years. A lane here, a lane there, but nothing significant. The population, that's another matter. Wake County has over a million people now. When I was a child, there were only 150,000 people. That was before I-40 and I-95, but those were federal projects. Now I have to figure out how to get a million people out of the county in the middle of the night. Do you think that they're going to blow the plant up, Agent Langford? Would any sane human really do such a thing?" he asked.
Amanda hesitated before saying, "I think . . . that you need to get all these people out of the area as quickly as possible. But right now, I need to know what actions you've taken around the plant, and what you know about what's going on inside the fences."
"The Highway Patrol and the Wake County Sheriff's Department have the plant isolated. All the access roads are barricaded, large or small, even a few dirt roads. Drone footage shows no activity on the plant site. One drone that flew near the Turbine Building was shot down. That shocked a lot of people. After that, we've stayed away from the guard towers and out past the perimeter fence. We received a call a few minutes ago that the 82nd is sending troops up here from Ft. Bragg. They're supposed to be at the plant in a few hours. When they're in place, we'll back off the law enforcement personnel and turn over control of the area to the military. The President declared a national emergency an hour ago, and then went to the Supreme Court. They just ruled that under 18 Code US 831, the Posse Comitatus Act doesn't apply. It's Martial Law now. The Pentagon is in charge of this emergency. We're here to support them and protect the people. Agent Langford, I'll ask you one more time, and then I'll let it be. Do you think these terrorists are going to blow up the Harris plant?" Director Madison said.
"I think that you should do what you said. Protect the people. Because . . . I think they're going to need it. I just left my parents' house in Raleigh. They're headed for a cabin they have up in the mountains. I told them not to come back until the government says it's safe," she said.
"Director Madison, does the military have a representative in the building yet?" Amanda asked.
"Yes, he's with the NC National Guard. They're in the back left corner. Brigadier General Dave Moore is in charge," Director Madison recalled, while pointing toward the area.
Amanda walked away, trying to focus on her mission. But she was very afraid that her home, her family, and her state would never be the same after this night was over.
NC State EOC
North Carolina National Guard Area
2330 hours EST
"General Moore, my name is Amanda Langford. The EOD referred me to you," Amanda said, presented her ID, and reached out to shake his hand.
"Lady, I'm trying to coordinate the evacuation of a million people, set up road blocks, and escort a Stryker Battalion up from Ft. Bragg. I don't have time for another bureaucrat," General Moore said, with a comm link in one ear and a cell phone on the other. He ignored her outstretched hand.
Presenting her ID again, Amanda bent over, pulled the cell phone from his ear, and said, "General Moore, I work for the CIA, and I need some damn information. I can get you replaced in 30 minutes with one phone call, but neither of us has time for that. Take some time now, and answer my questions. Then I promise I'll get out of your way."
"Central Intelligence Agency, huh? So what do you want?" General Moore said, while studying Amanda's ID.
"What's the military plan for Harris?" Amanda asked.
"Lady, I don't think you have the clearance for . . ." General Moore began.
"Thirty minutes, maybe less, and your career's over. What's the plan?" Amanda said, while pulling up a chair and sitting beside the frazzled officer.
"The 82nd is sending a Stryker Battalion from the 2nd Brigade Combat Team up to Harris. That's almost 1000 men and over 70 armored vehicles. They're taking over perimeter security. What happens after that is beyond my pay grade," General Moore said.
The unit sounded familiar to Amanda, so she asked, "Who's the battalion commanding officer?"
"Umm, I've got it here somewhere," General Moore said, while looking through a stack of printouts.
"Lieutenant Colonel Anthony Thompson and they're supposed to be up there and in position by 0300. After that, the civilian law enforcement will pull back," General Moore said.
"Then what happens?" Amanda asked.
"What do you think? All hell breaks loose and they start kicking somebody's ass," General Moore said.
CHAPTER 50
Harris Nuclear Plant
5421 Shearon Harris Rd
New Hill, North Carolina
August 2, 2017
2330 hours EST
Radwaste Control Room
"Listen, Cornell, I know you're the only one with combat experience, but you're 62 years old. I know you've got bad feet, bad knees, and a bad back. Stay here and protect Kay. Tommy and I'l
l go check things out on 286'," Chris said, as the three of them discussed their next move.
"He's right. Kay's asleep on Steve's old cot. I'm amazed that she could sleep after getting shot. Now is the time to go, before she wakes up," Tommy said.
"And when she does wake up, she's going to be pissed . . . at me for letting you two go without us. Hell, I'm more scared of her than the Chinese dudes," Cornell said.
"Come on, Cornell. Like you said, you're a combat veteran. She's just a woman," Chris said.
"Yeah right . . . just a woman. She's sleeping with that weapon cradled in her arms," Cornell said.
"Come on, Tommy, let's get moving," Chris said, while reaching for his rifle.
"Shit! Remember what I told you two. Keep low, keep your finger off of the trigger until you need it, and watch your backs. You've got no business going up against these men. They took out the guards, and most of them were combat veterans. These guys are deadly. Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Cornell asked.
"Hell no, I want to go home to my wife and kids. But that's not going to happen while these guys still have the plant. Cornell, there isn't anyone else. We don't have a choice. We have to try," Tommy said, as he shook Cornell's hand.
"You take care of Kay . . . and good luck when she wakes up. You're right, she's gonna be pissed," Chris said, as he picked up his weapon, and headed for the stairs leading out of the room.
Fuel Handling Building 286'
2330 hours EST
"Listen to me, Chonglin. Quit arguing with me. I know what I'm doing. When I lift the hatch, I'll set it down over toward the stairs. You unhook the cables. Then, I'll lower the cables, and we'll attach them to the bomb," Jian said, from 30 feet above, while sitting in the control cab, suspended below the overhead crane, at the north end of the building.
"I showed you how. Slip the shackle inside the cable. Then insert the shackle pin and tighten it. Slip each shackle onto the hook, and spread them out evenly," Jian said.
"I've got it. Just shut up and let me work," Chonglin said, as he inserted the first pin and tightened it.
Jian leaned back in the crane operator's seat and thought about what they were doing.
"This isn't sanctioned by the Chinese government. They are our true commanders, not the Lieutenant. He is a fine officer and leader, but he is just a Lieutenant. General Kung may have been wrong. What if we are wrong in following his orders?" Jian thought, as Chonglin began yelling in his earpiece.
"It's ready! Lift the damn hatch!" Chonglin yelled, as he stepped back from the big red hatch that separated the refuel floor from the railcar bay.
"I'll lift enough to put tension on the rigging and free the hatch. Then I'll stop. Make sure the load is level and nothing is twisted," Jian said.
The hatch was heavy steel plate. It was stenciled with its weight: 3150 lbs., but the crane was rated at over 50 tons. It had taken Jian hours to figure out how to return power to the crane, and then more time to figure out the controls.
Jian tapped the up lever and felt the crane respond. The main cable began to move ever so slightly.
"How does it look?" Jian asked.
"All four cables are straight and tight. Lift the damn thing," Chonglin said.
The red hatch squealed as it broke free and began to rise into the air. Jian stopped the lift when the cable readout indicated that he had raised the load almost two feet.
"That's high enough. Swing it over to the side," Chonglin said.
Jian paused, studying the controls.
"Trolly over? Is that the whole crane or just the body that hangs down between the girders?" he asked himself, while studying the labels on the controls
"Hurry! What are you . . ." Chonglin began, then paused, having heard something other than the noise of the crane.
"I thought I heard something," Chonglin said, over the comm link.
Jian looked up from the controls, and down the 300-foot length of the Fuel Handling Building floor.
"Two men just entered through a door at the south end. They both have weapons. They aren't dressed like guards," Jian said, as he released his controls and reached for his weapon.
Then he remembered that he had left it at the base of the ladder before climbing up to the crane cab.
"Chonglin, I left my weapon down below. You'll have to take them," Jian said.
He glanced down and to his right. Chonglin was already moving down a narrow walkway on the left.
"I can't see them yet. Where are they?" Chonglin asked, while kneeling and sighting through his 4X power scope.
"There are pools at the far end. They separated. One went to the east, the other to the west. You should have a straight shot down the east side," Jian said.
Chonglin settled into a kneeling position and studied his sight picture. The walkway on the east was crowded with electrical panels mounted on the wall. A figure had just entered the walkway at the other end.
"The wall is on one side. The railings run the length of the building to keep you from falling into the pools. Once he enters the walkway, he's trapped between the wall and the handrails," Chonglin said, over the comm link.
"Good, wait a bit, and then take him down. I'll keep an eye on the other one.
Fuel Handling Building 286'
2359 hours EST
Tommy and Chris had split up as they entered through the security door on the south end of the Fuel Handling Building. Tommy had started down the west side. Chris had crept over to the other side of the building and was beginning to make his way down the east side.
Tommy looked down the length of the building. He could see taught cables hanging from the 50-Ton Crane. He stood upright and could see the red hatch dangling a few feet off the floor.
He tapped the railing on his right twice with his rifle barrel. Chris stopped and glanced over at him. Tommy pointed at the far end of the building. Chris stood upright to look, ducking behind a protruding electrical box. The sound of a bullet ricocheting off metal echoed across the vast floor. Chris threw himself backwards and began crawling back the way he'd come. Tommy ducked behind a rolling tool box, raised his weapon, and began shooting at the control cab mounted under the 50-Ton crane, 200 yards away.
. . . .
August 3, 2017
0003 hours EST
"Shit, I should have just shot him in the leg. He ducked behind a panel," Chonglin said, as he rose and began rushing down the east side.
Jian ducked as bullets began pinging off the cab. He was spun around as one round struck him in the chest, and another in the right arm. He began cursing in Chinese as he slumped to the floor of the cab and lay on his back.
"Chonglin, I'm hit," Jian said, while grabbing his upper right arm. The other round had been stopped by his body armor.
Jian could hear at least one weapon firing in short bursts. More rounds were pinging off the cab.
"I'm still taking fire, Chonglin," Jian said, while reaching for a first aide pouch on his web gear.
. . . .
"Shit . . . shit . . . shit!" Chris said, as he turned at the end of the east walkway, and began running for the door they had entered through.
Tommy was standing beside the Refuel Bridge that was parked at the south end. He was firing three-round bursts at the cab on the 50-Ton Crane at the other end of the building. Bullets were pinging off the wall and the steel of the Refuel Bridge, as Chris ran up beside him and crouched behind the steel structure.
"I glanced back and saw a guy moving down the east side. He must be the one who shot at me," Chris said.
"Yeah, I know. Now he's shooting at both of us," Tommy said, as he ducked behind the Refuel Bridge to reload his weapon.
Tommy stuck his head up, and then back down, as several more rounds bounced around them.
"He's halfway down the east side. He'll be on us in less than a minute. I don't think I want to get in a shootout with this guy," Tommy said, as he and Chris huddled behind cover.
Chris nodded in agreement and
glanced at the exit. They both headed for the door without exchanging any more words.
. . . .
0010 hours EST
Jian was sitting in the cab's operator chair tightening the bandage on his right arm.
"Damn, we can't reach the Lieutenant from in here . . . the building is too thick. He needs to know that there is still armed resistance in the plant," Jian said.
"Chonglin, Chonglin, did you get them?" Jian asked, but received no answer.
Then he glanced down at his chest where the other bullet had hit. His comm set had been in a pocket on the outside of the vest. As he pulled on the line attached to the comm set, the wire came loose. The bullet had shattered the threaded connection.
"Maybe the transmitter still works," Jian said, as he removed the comm set and switched between modes.
"Chonglin, did you get them?" Jian asked, and released the transmit button.
"No, they ran back the way they came. I'm going hunting," Chonglin said.
Jian looked toward the other end of the building from his high vantage point, and saw Chonglin at the south end.
"No, the mission is priority. I'm hit in the right arm. I need you to reposition the cables so we can get the weapon up here," Jian said.
Chonglin said nothing. Jian could see him open the door at the far end and then close it. A dull thud told Jian that Chonglin had tossed a grenade into the room on the other side, and then closed the door.
"Chonglin . . . no!" Jian said, as he saw Chonglin open the door and rush into the room.
. . . .
The small room outside the south entrance to the 286' refuel floor was a vestibule, only 12 feet on a side, but it had three doors. One led into the Fuel Handling Building. Another to the stairwell that Tommy and Chris had used to access the floor. The third door exited onto the roof of the Common Area that connected the Waste Processing Building to the Fuel Handling Building.
HARRIS (Detonation) Page 20