by M. Z. Kelly
“I’m in the middle of nowhere, so I’m as safe as anyone.” I realized I was tearing up as I added, “You need to go now. I’ll call you when I’m able.”
Natalie turned the phone back in her direction. “We love you, Kate. We’ll take good care of Bernie.”
I reciprocated what she’d said, breaking down as the call ended. I then called my mother and my brother, but the calls went to voicemail. I told them about the cave in Griffith Park and to meet Natalie and Mo there, if possible.
As I put my phone away, I saw that Jack Logan had come outside and was walking over to me, lighting a cigarette.
“Don’t you know those can kill you?” I said, brushing the tears off my cheeks.
He chuckled and blew smoke into the icy afternoon sky. “I’ll keep that in mind, along with a lot of other stuff.”
“Anything happening in there?” I asked, referencing the ready room.
“Just a bunch of A-holes trying to cover their asses and trying to keep what’s left of them at the same time.”
I shook my head in dismay, remembering that Jack Logan was an expert on Nathan Caine. “Tell me the truth. Do you think Caine is bluffing?”
Logan took another drag off his cigarette and shook his head. “Not a chance. If he has the means, he’s going to launch that missile.”
SEVENTY-SIX
Footsteps!
Lindsay sat up on her mattress, hearing movement in the hallway. She looked at the closed door to her room.
“Who’s there?” she called out.
The footsteps continued, then she heard the door creak open. It took a moment, then Cora appeared, closing the door behind her. She turned toward Lindsay but didn’t move.
“Is everything okay?” Lindsay asked.
Cora’s eyes were downcast, and she shook her head.
“Come here.” Lindsay held out a manacled hand.
Cora came over and took a seat on the mattress next to her.
“Tell me what’s the matter,” Lindsay said.
It took the young woman a long time to respond. “There’s something on TV. They said he has a...a missile with bombs.”
“Are you talking about Caine?”
A breath and a nod. “He’s going to hurt people.”
Lindsay’s pulse raced. “You’ve got to help me stop him. Will you do that, Cora?”
“I brought a key. I think it might unlock those.” She pointed to the handcuffs and handed it over.
Lindsay was working on her manacles when she heard Astrid’s strident voice.
“Where are you, Cora?”
Cora stood. “I’ve got to go.”
Lindsay reached out, using her freed hand to grasp Cora’s. “This is our secret. You can’t tell Astrid or anyone that you helped me.”
Cora nodded, then she was gone.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
After delivering his message to the world, Nathan Caine slumped back in his chair. Even with his implanted pacemaker, his heart felt like it was hammering against his ribcage. He took some time to reflect on what he had said. Even without the nuclear bombs he would soon detonate, the desired effect had been achieved. The cities would be in a state of panic, and no one could be sure if their city had been targeted.
The terrorist looked at the clock on the wall. Two hours and eighteen minutes. A sudden, powerful jolt, not unlike an electric current, shot down his spine. Caine’s body convulsed and shuddered. He began gasping for air, his heart beating wildly, as his eyes momentarily rolled back in his head.
When it was over, Caine felt the dampness in his groin and the warmth that still moved down his body, pulsing out to his extremities, possessing him. The orgasm had been intense and beautiful.
Just like the first time he had killed someone.
SEVENTY-EIGHT
“Suppose Caine does find a way to launch the missile. Is there any way the bombs can be disabled?” I asked Stan Waters, when Logan and I got back to the ready room.
“You would think so, but it’s complicated. According to Drake, after launch, the warheads, or MIRVs, separate from the main rocket. Each warhead then follows an independent path toward its intended target. The chances of stopping them are...” He sighed. “Let’s just say it’s extremely problematic.”
“What did our new president have to say about the situation?” Logan asked.
“In his words, he’s ‘keeping all his options open.’”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means the country has gone to DEFCON 2 because other countries are aware of what’s happening. We’re one step away from all-out war.”
“I heard DC is in a state of panic, with people trying to get out of the city.”
“There’s riots everywhere. No one knows which cities he’s targeted, so the panic is widespread.”
“What about the military shooting the missile down after launch?” I asked.
Waters nodded. “That’s one of President Tatum’s options, but it has to be done right before the warheads separate from the booster.”
“I think I’ve got something,” Efren Zepeda said, calling over to us.
We went over to his workstation, where we were joined by Lieutenant Colonel Drake.
“This is a schematic of the K-09 facility,” Zepeda said, working his keyboard and bringing up an overlay of the launch site. “I’ve been over every inch of it a dozen times. There’s a narrow shaft that was used to run cables into the silo years ago. It has a concrete covering. That opening leads to a ladder adjacent to the elevator. It leads directly down into the silo.”
“I’m going in,” Logan said, checking his weapon. “Have the chopper set me down at the facility and tell me where to go.”
“It’s not going to happen,” Zepeda said. “The opening is just under sixteen inches wide, jammed with cables. It runs a dozen feet before it opens to the auxiliary ladder. There’s no way you would fit inside.”
“Let me go,” I said. “I’m slender and...” I took a breath, pushing down a claustrophobic feeling about being inside the tunnel. “...I’m sure I can make it.”
“There’s another problem,” Zepeda said. “If you’re inside the tunnel when the missile launches, there’s a good chance you’ll be incinerated by the blast.”
I looked at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got an hour until the launch window closes. Get me inside.”
SEVENTY-NINE
Lindsay used the key Cora had given her to open the second manacle. She slid the handcuffs off, taking a moment to massage her wrist. She sat in silence, listening for signs of movement from the house. Hearing nothing, she moved over to the door and peered into the hallway.
“I’ll be on duty tonight,” she heard Astrid telling Cora. “There’s something happening, and I need my rest. Wake me up if there’s any problem.” She cut her eyes to the hallway, and Lindsay shrank back from the doorway. Astrid looked back at Cora. “I want ten-minute bed checks on our prisoner. No exceptions.”
Lindsay waited until Astrid had gone into one of the bedrooms. When the house was quiet, she moved down the hallway, taking care to not make a sound.
When Cora saw her, she whispered. “Astrid’s sleeping. You can’t...”
“Shh,” Lindsay said quietly. “Do you know if she has a gun?”
Cora cut her eyes toward the kitchen, then lowered her gaze. “I can’t say.”
“Don’t say a word,” Lindsay whispered before moving into the kitchen.
It took her less than five minutes to find the weapon in one of the cupboards. It was an older model Glock, something Kate had once showed her how to use.
She put the weapon in her waistband, then moved back over to Cora. “I’m going to leave...”
“No,” Cora said, raising her voice. “Astrid will kill me.”
Lindsay took her by the arm, and they moved into the living room. “You’re coming with me.”
“Don’t move or you’re dead.”
Lindsay heard the hateful voice
of Astrid from the hallway. She turned slowly toward the senior Guide, moving her hands out to her sides.
“Drop the gun,” Astrid demanded, at the same time shooting death stares at Cora. “Do it slowly.”
Lindsay nodded, using two fingers to remove the weapon and letting it fall to the floor.
Astrid came over and picked it up. She then turned her anger on Cora. “You did this. You were going to let her go.”
“It’s wrong,” Cora said, keeping her eyes downcast. “She doesn’t mean any harm.”
Astrid’s hand came down, slapping her assistant hard. “We’ll see about that.”
Lindsay had moved quickly when Astrid hit Cora. She’d reached behind her, finding the fireplace poker and swinging it up. Astrid’s gun discharged, but missed its mark, as the poker made contact with her head. It sent the big woman reeling. She fell back, unconscious.
Lindsay went over and got Astrid’s gun. She then said to Cora. “You okay?”
Cora nodded. “I think so.”
Lindsay took her hand. “Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Cora said. “Mr. Caine. He has an office where he keeps his papers. Maybe it would help stop him.”
“Show me.”
Cora led her down the hallway to a bedroom, where Lindsay found a desk with papers strewn about. She took a moment to look through things, before her eyes held on something that caught her interest. She picked up the paperwork and said to Cora. “A phone. Do you have a phone?”
She shook her head. “No, but Astrid does.”
They went back into the living room, where Astrid still lay unconscious. Lindsay worked quickly, looking through the woman’s pockets before she found the phone.
She dialed the number from memory, praying that her sister would answer in time.
EIGHTY
Efren Zepeda continued to study his computer monitor as he pointed out the shaft leading into the silo. “There’s an access panel right here. It has four bolts that will need to be removed.” He looked at me. “The tunnel is almost straight down before it turns and leads to the interior access ladder.”
“I’m sure I can make it,” I said, turning to Stan Waters, hoping he would approve.
Waters nodded at me, then looked back at Zepeda. “What happens when she gets inside?”
“The silo’s main access hatch is made of solid titanium. It’s bulletproof and virtually impenetrable, but the hatch can be opened from the inside in the case of a medical emergency.” He pointed to the interior section of the hatch. “Enter the code 9713, and the hatch will pop open.”
“We’ll have our assault teams standing by on the outside,” Waters said to me. “They’ll join you and breach the control room, taking Caine down.”
I checked my weapon, pushed down my anxiety, and said, “Let’s go.”
I was in the helicopter, ten minutes from the Green Dragon, when my phone rang. I almost shouted for joy when I heard my sister’s voice on the line. I soon realized there was no time for celebration. She had something important to tell me.
“I’m in Nathan Caine’s office in the house where I’ve been held prisoner,” Lindsay said. “I found some paperwork showing that, three years ago, he had a pacemaker implanted. It’s called a CERT 9000. I read something recently about pacemakers. The article said they can be hacked and disabled. It might be a way to take him down.”
“Let me do some follow-up, and I’ll get back to you. In the meantime, get out of the house and find someplace safe. I’ll be in touch.”
We were two minutes from landing when I got Grant Addison on the phone. “I don’t have time to explain,” I said, “but I need your help. There’s a terrorist we’re after that has an implanted CERT 9000 pacemaker. I’ve heard it’s possible to hack the device and disable it. Do you know anything about that?”
Grant’s voice was strained, making me think he understood I was talking about Caine. “Let me make a call and get back to you.”
“I’m out of time.”
“Two minutes. Give me two minutes, and I’ll call you back.”
The chopper set down about fifty yards from the launch facility. I was making my way over to the concrete casing when my phone chimed.
“Tell me something good,” I said to Grant.
“The pacemaker is remotely hackable by sending a series of short shocks to the implanted defibrillator via radio waves. It will cause the patient’s heartbeat to accelerate, resulting in a fatal arrhythmia. I can send the information to your phone.”
I moved toward the hatch covering the access tunnel. “There’s one problem. Our suspect is underground, beneath miles of concrete.”
“It’s Caine, isn’t it?”
“Yes. He’s inside the missile silo.”
“If you can get inside the silo, within a few feet of him, you can send out the coded signal. It’s the best I can do.”
“Send it to my phone now. I’m going inside.”
“On the way. Good luck and be careful.”
It took me a couple minutes, using the power tool I’d been given, to unlock the access cover. I slid it off and peered into the darkness. The shaft was even narrower than I’d anticipated, with cables snaking down opposite walls.
I checked the time on my phone and realized I had less than fifteen minutes until Caine made good on his threat to launch the missile. I took a deep breath, and, using a penlight, began working my way down inside the opening. I was less than halfway inside the tunnel when panic overwhelmed me. My heart began racing, and I had trouble breathing. Terror overwhelmed me.
I started to back out of the shaft but took a deep breath and forced myself to regroup. I checked my watch, seeing that I now had less than ten minutes until Caine’s deadline.
I moved ahead, inching my way down into the shaft, continuing to fight a sensation similar to drowning. I gulped in a breath and moved farther inside, feeling a sense of relief when I saw a circle of light ahead of me. I realized I was less than three feet from where the shaft emptied into the silo.
It took me another five minutes to squeeze my way forward and grab hold of the steel ladder that led deeper into the tunnel. When I had my bearings, I checked my phone, seeing the code that Grant had sent me. I followed his instructions, clicking on the code and watching as I got the message that it had been sent. I heard nothing and wondered if it had worked.
I moved up the access ladder, where I found the main access panel to the control center. I punched in the code Zepeda had given me and watched as the hatch released.
The Special Forces team leader greeted me with a small platoon of troops behind him. “Any sign of Caine?”
I was about to answer when an alarm began sounding from somewhere deep in the silo. As we moved over to the access ladder, a thought surfaced.
We were moving down into the bowels of hell.
EIGHTY-ONE
Caine held his gun up to Captain Allen’s temple. “I need you to enter the hot codes, taking the President out of the firing sequence.”
The replacement launch crew had already been disposed of by Caine. The on-duty launch crew consisted of lieutenants Robert Dolan and Jessica Fenton. They were tied up in a corner of the launch center, watching him and Allen. Once the hot codes were enabled, only one of them would be necessary to remove a firing key and insert it into the system.
Allen moved over to the launch panel. It was a maze of dials and computers that monitored the missile’s readiness. He looked at Caine. “The virus is already in the system.” He glanced at Dolan and Fenton. “All you have to do is convince one of them to turn a launch key at the same time you do.”
The terrorist shook his head. “Do you think I’m a fool? The virus has enabled the bypass, but without the codes Randolph gave me the missile won’t launch.”
The captain shook his head and sighed. “I can’t do this. I’m not going to enter the codes.”
Caine’s finger tensed on the trigger of his weapon. “You’d rather sacrifice yourself and kill
your only daughter?”
Allen didn’t respond, his head slumping forward.
The terrorist removed his phone and dialed a number. “The girl,” he said into his phone. “What’s her condition?” He waited a beat, then said, “I want her to die, but make it slow. Maximize her suffering.”
“Stop!” Allen pleaded, raising his voice. “I’ll enter the codes.”
“Hold,” Caine said into his phone. He covered the mouthpiece and said to Allen, “I’m waiting.”
Captain Allen walked over to one of the computers, made some keystrokes, then said, “Ready.”
“Make sure it’s entered exactly as I give it to you,” Caine said, then repeated the sequence of code names and numbers given to him by James Randolph before he died.
Captain Allen nodded, worked his keyboard, then stepped away from the console as an alarm began blaring through the Launch Control Center. “It’s done.”
Caine put his phone away without another word.
“What about my daughter?” Allen asked.
“You don’t need to worry about her.”
“Why is that?”
“I had her killed before we entered the silo.” He moved his gun back up to Allen’s head. “Now it’s your turn.” He fired a single shot, blasting Captain Allen’s brains across the room.
EIGHTY-TWO
We heard a gunshot as we moved down the access ladder. I checked the time on my phone. “Two minutes to launch.”
One of the Special Forces soldiers had been in touch with the ready room and told us what was happening. “The hot codes to launch the missile are active. Caine has complete control now.”
I held onto a rung of the ladder, using my phone to activate the code Grant had sent me, explaining my actions. “I have a friend who’s a software expert. Caine has an implanted pacemaker. If we can hack into the pacemaker, we can override it and use it to our advantage.”