by Rick Jones
“He’s outside,” Chance told her, “standing sentinel. But he’s not answering his mike.”
“I’m on it,” said Stephen, exiting the main chamber with his weapon held high and at the ready position.
Nay looked around, rapidly surveying their surroundings. “Chance, is there a panel around here? Something that could act as the sending station for the Semtex riggings?"
“Not in this room,” he answered, continuing to work the drone station feverishly. “Try the north-side tunnel. And Nay?" I love you. Words he deemed as inappropriate--out of place--came to the forefront of his mind. He pushed them aside. Why do I want to say that now?
“Yeah?”
Stay focused. “I need more time.”
“I’ll try."
When she left, Dante followed, leaving behind a wounded Liam, who left blood spots in his wake like a macabre breadcrumb trail as he walked to the podium and stood beside Chance.
He noted the dead Arab on the floor before addressing the ex-Delta Force operator. “You got this?”
Chance ignored him as he allowed his fingers to dance over the controls, totally absorbed by what he was doing.
Liam checked the monitors. On one screen was the bird's-eye-view video feed from the MQ-10 in flight as it dipped and rose over treetops. On the monitor beside it was a still-frame photo of the Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Plant near Lusby, Maryland.
And then Liam’s mind clicked. The Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Plant was the drone’s destination.
Liam was starting to feel the wooziness of his wound.
“Can you stop it, Chance? Before it gets to Calvert?”
Chance shrugged. “I don’t know. Let’s just hope that Nay finds that box.”
“If not?”
Chance wanted to say, Then Calvert Cliffs goes up like a fireball unlike any other and that part of Maryland will be a no-man’s land for a thousand years to come.
But he remained silent, knowing that neither of them needed any distractions right now.
#
When Aasif Shazad reached the main chamber, he saw Naji lying in a pool of his own blood. Dead, or nearly so. Nearby, a clearly uninjured man stood helming the podium, trying his best to commandeer the Reaper in mid-flight, with a second man--this one with a serious shoulder wound-- standing beside him.
These people were quick and efficient, he thought, dispatching his team with such little effort. But his unit had served well, as they now stood on the threshold to greatness and Paradise ever after.
Shazad was pleased.
But unlike his fellow jihadists, he would not be martyred. It was no longer necessary for him to engage with these treacherous infidels. The Reaper would carry out his work. The best thing for him to do was to live another day so that he could plan and execute additional holy missions, to serve yet another glorious day under the banner of Allah, peace be with him.
He slunk back into the shadows and retreated into the dark recesses. Knowing that time was winding down and that there was nothing anyone could do to stop the drone, he slipped away from the bunker and deeper into the woods.
. . . 06:43 . . .
. . . 06:42 . . .
. . . 06:41 . . .
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Lut was no stranger to the weight room. At least from what Tanner could tell by the man’s thick neck and broad shoulders as he rushed him, hollering with unbridled rage. The big man’s knife remained sheathed while his assault rifle was festooned across his chest. Tanner figured that he wanted to get up close and personal--to rip him apart with his bare hands--which the apish combatant looked quite capable of doing.
Tanner swung his own rifle around. Lut kicked it away, reached down and grabbed Tanner by the throat with both hands. He raised him off the ground effortlessly until Tanner found himself kicking for the purchase of land.
Lut was quick and sprightly, far too fast for someone his size. Yet he was. And Tanner would have to find a way to deal with it. Fast.
With incredible power behind his grip, Lut was slowly squeezing the life from Tanner, whose complexion transitioned from tanned to red to mauve as his blood flow was constricted.
From his earthly position, Lut stared up at the OUTCAST leader and gave a carnivorous grin.
With pinpoints of light sparking across his steadily shrinking field of vision, Tanner focused his thoughts as best he could. He looked down at the immense man with a certain gravity to his stare. Slowly, Lut’s smile diminished as their eyes met, a deliberate wilting at the corner of his lips. The man he held high had two different-colored eyes--one so pale blue that it appeared almost white. The other, however, was as black as pitch and seemingly without pupil. Lut stared into the dark eye, deep inside the orb, fathoming an uncontained volatility within this man, something brutal and without mercy.
Unhurriedly, this man with the dark eye spread his arms out in mock crucifixion, then brought them in quickly, clapping his hands hard over his aggressor's ears and rupturing his drums.
Lut released Tanner and staggered back into the brush, crying out. Blood trickled out through the fingers that were clamped over his ears.
Tanner didn’t hesitate. He closed the gap between them and served Lut with a flurry of punches to the solar plexus—dizzying combinations—that sent the man off balance and to his back.
Lut stared up at Tanner, who stood over him with the look of a man who held the life of another in his hands. But that raven eye of his seemed to be warring with the one that was almost without color, the dark orb pulsating in the lattice of red stitching that now surrounded it. In the end, the mercy won over as Tanner raised his balled fist and brought the heel side down against the fallen man’s face, slamming him into unconsciousness.
“Nice move.” It was Dante. “I thought you could use a hand when you didn’t return Chance’s calls.” He then walked over to Tanner and handed him the weapon that had been kicked free from Lut’s foot. “You might want to hang onto this,” he added, smiling.
But Tanner did not reciprocate with a smile of his own. Instead, he grabbed the weapon and looked beyond Dante's shoulder. Alvarez turned to see what he was looking at.
On the runway, the remaining Reaper was picking up speed. And then it launched, heading east.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Chance?”
Recognizing Tanner’s voice over his ear bud, he answered. “Tanner.”
“The final drone’s on the move.”
“I’m controlling it,” he replied, manipulating the joystick and watching the monitor. “Tanner, we’ve got a huge problem. You need to contact John Casey right now. I tried contacting you before, but you were down.”
“Got a little tangled up there for a moment,” he told him. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t control the first launch because the programming on the first Reaper is locked in. I can’t change it or command a new course. What I can do is control the second Reaper. I was able to take command before it was locked onto its mission course.”
“So you’re remote controlling the second drone?”
“Yes. I’m going to use it to track down the first drone. If I can get close enough, then I can target-acquire a Hellfire and take it out. Hellfires move seven times faster than a drone. The first Reaper is on a straight course between two points with no one controlling it. Because no one is controlling it, it can’t outmaneuver an incoming missile. It is simply programmed to go from point A to point B. Nothing more.”
“So why do I need to contact Casey?”
Chance hesitated, but only for a split second. “He needs to be informed of its proposed target,” he finally said.
“And where would that be?”
“It’s heading for Calvert Cliffs Power Plant near Lusby. Casey needs the president to call off the air sortie and use those jets to intercept the drone. In case I miss.”
“Lusby’s fifty miles away. The drone must be more than a quarter of the distance. By the time Carmichael gets the message and rero
utes the Phantoms, they won’t have enough time to intercept. But maybe they have other units nearby.”
“We can only hope.”
“Can you do this, Chance? Can you catch up?”
He nodded, even though Tanner couldn’t see him. “I can close to a distance that will enable me to lock on a Hellfire. But the distance between the two drones will still be great. In the end, Tanner, it’ll be a fifty-fifty possibility of taking it down, at best.”
“I’ll contact Casey immediately. And Chance.”
“Yeah.”
“Do your best.”
Chance continued to stare at the monitor.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Raven Rock
“Calvert Cliffs!” The president uttered the words as if they were the height of profanity.
John Casey, sitting between Jenifer Rimaldi and Simon Davis, said, “Yes, sir. The Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Plant."
“I know what it is, damn it!"
Casey's face reddened a bit but he maintained his composure. "It appears to be the target of the fourth launched drone, Mr. President.”
"So contact them immediately and have them shut down the cores and reactors.”
Davis waved a hand. He was already on the phone.
“What about Tanner Wilson?” asked President Carmichael.
Casey responded. “His group has taken the bunker. However, Shazad himself is still at large, and the whole place has been rigged with enough plastic explosives to blow it out of existence. As we speak, Mr. President, a timer is counting down.”
“Options?”
Casey nodded. “Slim. But the Phantom jets have been ordered by the Joint Chiefs to readjust their course and are on their way to intercept. We also have some SR-71Blackbirds coming in from the north. But the real problem, Mr. President, is that the jets may be too far away to close the distance in time. The fighters committing to the sortie have renegotiated their westerly position to the northeast. But it’s not looking as if they’ll be able to connect in time.”
President Carmichael fell back into his seat, looking terribly lost.
“But something else is brewing,” said Casey. “Tanner and his team launched the second drone and are in full control of it. This one is right on the heels of the first and they fully believe they can get close enough to take the first drone down with one of Shazad's own Hellfires.”
The president glared at his FBI Director. "They're our Hellfires, remember?" Nevertheless, the news seemed to perk Carmichael up a bit. What Casey offered him was hope.
He steamrolled over Casey's apology. “What are the chances of this happening?” he asked. The president's job demanded he deal in reality rather than hope.
“Significantly greater than being intercepted by the fighter jets, who really have no chance at all.”
Carmichael then leaned forward and clasped his hands together in an attitude of prayer.
“But there’s one more thing you need to know,” Casey went on. “The time that Tanner Wilson's team has is extremely limited unless they can disable the explosives that are set to demolish the compound, including the control station for the second drone with which they intend to take out the one heading for Calvert.”
The president raised his hands palms up and shrugged. “How much time are we talking about?”
Casey looked at his watch, then back to the president with grave features. “I’m afraid, Mr. President, that they have less than six minutes.”
Once again, hope vanished from Carmichael’s soul like wispy commas of mist.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The Bunker
In the north tunnel, Nay and Shah came upon a single room that was once the nerve center of the bunker. Inside the room was a generator—long since dead—that provided power to the shelter back in the seventies.
Against the far wall and steeped in shadows, a panel door stood about five feet off the floor.
Nay examined the area carefully for triggers and traps. Finding none, she proceeded to open the access panel.
“Careful,” Shah warned.
She opened the door slowly. Inside they saw a foot-long container with several vials of amber fluid attached to it, the vials acting as simple levels. Should the container be disturbed and the fluids within the vials shift, then the timer would engage and trigger an immediate pulse, which would in turn detonate the Semtex units.
She shook her head out of a combination of frustration and grudging admiration. Shazad had planned so well.
She lowered her lip mike. “Tanner.”
“Go.”
“I found the master unit. Very well protected.”
“Can you disable it?”
“If given the time . . . maybe.”
“Nay, I need you to be at your best. We need you to give us more time.”
She sighed. Nothing like turning up the heat. “How much time are we talking about here?”
There was a pause, then: “Six minutes.”
“Which really means that I have four, since I need two minutes to clear out.”
“Exactly.”
She turned back to the guarded mechanism.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Lusby, Maryland
Sirens went off in unison at the Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Plant, located on the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay near Lusby, Maryland. The cores, rods and reactors were in the process of being shut down. Technicians moved quickly in an orderly fashion, racing from one control station to the next, throwing switches and powering down anything that could endanger the facility.
Approaching from the west, a Reaper bore down on them.
#
Chance was not alone in the room.
Tanner and Dante had entered the main chamber after dealing with Lut. Liam, however, had taken to the floor, the man growing dizzy from his wound. This caught the attention of Tanner, who evaluated Liam's wounded shoulder and noted the ugly rawness underneath. His face was also losing its color, now verging on a disturbing mauve-gray.
Tanner issued Dante a quick order. “Get him out of here and back to the vehicles. If we need to bug out quickly, he’d never make it.”
Dante aided Liam to his feet. He then hooked an arm around Liam and ushered him toward the exit, leaving Chance and Tanner alone by the podium.
. . . 05:27 . . .
. . . 05:26 . . .
. . . 05:25 . . .
“How’re you doing?” Tanner asked Chance.
"We'll know in a couple minutes." Chance continued to eagle-eye the display and manage the controls. “I’m on course, but it’s not in view yet.”
Tanner looked at his watch. You’re cutting it close, my friend.
But Chance wasn’t through. “Even then, it’ll only be a speck in the sky.”
Tanner closed his eyes in frustration as all hope began to dwindle. Then he lowered his lip mike.
“Nay.”
“Yeah, Tanner.”
“Sitrep?” Situation report.
“This could take me up to four, maybe five more minutes.”
“Nay, you have four minutes. Not a second longer.” Then: “Steve?”
“Right here, boss.”
“You’re the timekeeper,” he told him. “Four minutes from now, if the bomb isn’t disabled, you get Nay and yourself out of there. You copy?”
“Four minutes. I copy.”
"Nay?”
“I copy."
“Four minutes. Out.”
He turned back to Chance who appeared as calm as calm could be. But Tanner sensed that he was masking his true emotions. He had to be. He was a man, not a stone.
“Are you all right?” he asked him.
“Fine,” he said. “Just . . . fine.” Chance continued to manipulate the controls.
#
The second Reaper traveled at top speed as it neared its quarry through patches of scudding clouds. Unlike its predecessor that skimmed the treetop contours, trading a longer flight time for the added stealth
of terrain masking, the second MQ-10 remained at a constant altitude, enabling it to hurtle along at a much faster rate than the first drone.
But as fast as it moved, the first drone was still not in sight.
#
Nay was finding it difficult to disable the countdown mechanism. The fluids within the vials teased back and forth, threatening to trigger the killing pulse by shifting inside the glass tubes. What she needed was time, an unattainable luxury right now.
Shah kept one keen eye on Nay and one on the doorway. “How’s it going?” he asked her.
“It’s not. I need to detach these vials before I can get at the unit--four of them. But they’re so delicate and I don’t want to rush the job. I can do it, but I need time.”
As delicate as the vials were, she was able to remove the first one, leaving three to go.
Shah studied his watch.
. . . 04:14 . . .
. . . 04:13 . . .
. . . 04:12 . . .
“You have two minutes and twelve seconds,” he informed her.
She shook her head in dismay. It’s not enough time!
#
For the first time in his life Tanner Wilson was a chronic clock watcher. His arm was bent at the elbow, the readout of his watch less than a foot from his face as he eyeballed the stopwatch function on his G-Shock, which he had earlier synchronized to the Semtex timing mechanism.
“How’s it going, Chance?”
“Not in view yet.”
. . . 03:45 . . .
. . . 03:44 . . .
. . . 03:43 . . .
Even if it was in view, thought Tanner, they would never have an opportunity to make things right. Calvert Cliffs was about to go up.
“Chance . . .” Tanner let the word hang, the tone behind it enough to express that it was time to abort the mission.
But Chance refused. “I’ve still got time,” he told him. Then more to himself.
“I’ve still got time.”
. . . 03:32 . . .
. . . 03:31 . . .
. . . 03:30 . . .
#
Raven Rock
President Carmichael and his team of career politicians sat with baited breath until the next round of reports came in. The news was anything but good. As speculated, the fighter jets were either too far away or had been reassigned too late to intercept the drone.