“What did I used to . . .” Lord Vak began.
“You used to say it could cleave metal as if it were a loaf of bread.”
Lord Vak stared deep into his eyes. “Is it you, Jira? Is it really you?”
“Yes, Father,” Ra said, and he hugged him.
Lord Vak hugged him in return, and they wept in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER
17
After checking on Officer Garten to make sure he was comfortable and not crying too loudly—she brought him a sandwich and swore to him she was just teasing about the cannibal stuff, but she still couldn’t let him go—Ali flew to Washington, D.C. Landing on the south side of town, not far from the Pentagon, it did not take her long to locate 1618 Florence Street, apartment number 902.
It was after midnight, but Ali would have knocked on General Kabrosh’s door right then and there had she not heard a party going on inside. She was tired of major confrontations, and besides, she was physically exhausted. Best to rest and speak to him in the morning, she decided.
By chance, there was a five-star hotel across the street from the general’s place.
Ali did not try checking in. She flew around the top floor—where there were the most expensive suites—and found one unoccupied but with a window open. Picking up the phone inside, she was delighted to discover she could order room service by simply giving her room number. She asked for a small steak, well-done, a baked potato; plus, of course, chocolate cake, and a bottle of Coke.
While waiting for the food, she took a quick shower and called her father’s cell. She got no answer. That worried her—he never turned it off. She called Hector Wells’s home in Toule next. He answered on the first ring.
“I knew it would be you,” he said. “I was about to call you.”
“So you guys just decided to throw all caution to the wind and run off with Nira?” she asked. “Was that smart?”
“I did not run off with Nira, obviously. I was told to wait here until you called.”
“By Nira?”
“Yes.”
Ali scratched her head. “After I left, did she just sort of announce to the gang that she was taking over?”
“She didn’t have to. We could all tell she was.”
“Hector, she’s your daughter. And she’s only six years old.”
“Yeah. You’re thirteen years old and you’re flying from one world to the next and slaying dragons and God knows what else. If we have to listen to you, then we have to listen to Nira even more.”
“Why even more?”
Hector hesitated. “That girl . . . she’s got power. No offense, Ali, but when she said she thought we should do such and such, we couldn’t argue. And she told us to leave that hotel immediately, and she said I would be safe here. She said the last thing Lucy wants is to hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Ali said.
“I do count on that. I trust her, and not just because she’s my daughter. You didn’t have a chance to talk to her much. But she knows.”
“What does she know?”
“She just knows what’s going on, you can feel it.”
“Did she leave any instructions for me?”
“She said you would come for me at some point.”
“When? Why?”
“She didn’t say. Don’t you know?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Where are you calling from? You’re using an East Coast line.”
Ali had used the hotel phone. “I’m in Washington, D.C.”
“What are you doing there?”
“Trying to figure out how the world’s going to end. Where are the others now?”
“I have no idea. Did you try calling your dad?”
“Yes.”
“So did I. All I know is, they’re not at your home. Nira did say it was not safe to go there. Not yet anyway.”
Ali thought of Garten tied up in the basement. “Yeah. That’s not a safe place. If you had to guess, where do you think they went?”
“I really have no idea. But Nira had a confidence about her.”
“Cindy’s parents must be freaking out.”
“Yeah. The cops have called me about her.”
“What did you say?”
“I played dumb. Which is what I am at this moment. You still think this invasion is going to happen?”
“Unless something major is done to stop it.” Ali paused. “Nira’s probably right that Lucy or Sheri or whoever won’t harm you. Get a good night’s sleep and I’ll call you tomorrow. By then, I’ll know what I need you for.”
“You rest, too. You’re still a human being.”
Ali yawned. “I’m sure feeling that side of me right now.”
Her food came not long after. She just signed the bill as Sheri Smith and gave the guy a big tip and dug in. After she had finished saving the world, she would settle up the bill more honestly. In the meantime, she just hoped the kitchen didn’t realize the room was supposed to be empty. She didn’t want to give up her dinner. She was famished! She had not finished her sandwich at Nancy Pillar’s home. Plus she was convinced flying burned up more calories than any treadmill.
A pity. She had a feeling she would be doing a lot of flying come tomorrow.
Ten minutes after she finished eating, she laid down to sleep, and blacked out in seconds. She dreamed, though, about dragons and purple smoke.
Ali did not need more than five hours of rest to make a complete recovery. She was at General Kabrosh’s door at dawn. Before she stormed the place, she paused to listen, heard just one person, a male snoring in the far bedroom. She opened the door by turning the knob firmly. The inner lock mechanism cracked in her hand, but she did not hear any alarm go off.
But there must have been an alarm of some kind, for she heard Kabrosh stop snoring and swiftly sit up in bed. Ali heard a drawer open—no doubt he was reaching for a gun. That was fine with her. Stepping inside, she softly closed the door behind her, and walked into the kitchen and purposely broke a glass. She did not have long to wait. He came after her in a gray robe, holding a cocked semiautomatic. As he turned the corner that led into the kitchen, she surprised him from behind.
A smack on the side of the head and a blinding chop to his gun arm, and he was down. Picking up the pistol, helping him up off the floor, she tossed him in a chair in the living room and sat on a sofa across from him. As he emerged from his daze, she leveled the gun in his face.
“General Kabrosh, I presume?” she asked.
He was sixty and gray, but lithe and wiry. He worked out. His eyes were cold and dark, his skin grizzled from too much sun. He looked like a soldier, a hard man, but there was a discipline in him, courage as well. He did not panic when he saw the gun. Nor did he act surprised that she was thirteen years old. A bird must have whispered in his ear . . .
“Answer me. I know of your connection to Sheri Smith,” Ali said. “In fact, she told you I might stop by, didn’t she? But you did not really believe it. But I’m here, and she’s not, and you’ve got no one to protect you.”
He squinted at her. She might have hit him too hard. His voice came out gravely. “What do I need protection from?” he asked.
“Me.” She gestured to her scars with the tip of the gun. “The person who did this to me, he looks pretty next to me.”
Kabrosh drew in a ragged breath. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Just someone who worries that all the nuclear bombs in this country aren’t where they’re supposed to be.” Ali paused.
Kabrosh grew quickly alert. “Why?”
“You just bought two expensive homes. One in Switzerland, the other on an island in the Fijis. And you supposedly live on a soldier’s pay.”
“Who told you that lie?”
“Someone familiar with the money Sheri Smith gives you.”
“I don’t know any Sheri Smith.”
“You talk to her regularly.”
He snorted. “You can’t prove that.
”
“Because you use a secure line?” Ali paused. “Do you know a character in your partner’s bestselling computer game is named after you? Don’t you think that was rather sloppy of her? To point such a huge finger in your direction? I bet that annoyed you. But you couldn’t complain, could you? You wanted the money and she wanted to give it to you—in exchange for a bomb.”
He paled slightly, but kept his voice even. “You still haven’t told me who you are. FBI? CIA? Homeland Security?”
“Do I look old enough to belong to such organizations?”
“No. You don’t.” He sat up and nodded to the gun. “You don’t even look old enough to know how to fire one of those. I bet you never have. I’m right, right?”
Ali aimed at his knee. “Want me to blow off your kneecap to show you what a great shot I am?”
“Fire that gun and every cop in the area will be here in a minute.” He stood. “I suggest you take your conspiracy theories and get out of my house before I call the police and . . .”
Ali was on him in an instant. He did not see her coming. Leaping over the space that separated them, she grabbed him from behind, broke his right arm in three places, and gagged him with her free hand. Then she pulled him lower, so that she could whisper in his ear.
“General Kabrosh, you’ve got to take me seriously. Your arm is hurting, I can feel your pain, honestly, but it’s a mere fraction of the agony you’ll suffer if you don’t answer my questions. Understand?”
He nodded weakly. Ali released him, let him fall back into the chair. Again, she took her place on the sofa. She pointed out the window at the hotel across the street. “Do you know they serve the best chocolate cake in the world over there?” she asked.
He coughed to clear his throat, shaking. He really was in pain.
“How can you be so strong?” he gasped.
“Like Sheri, I’m special. In all your dealings with her, you must have noticed a few unusual things around her.” Ali paused. “Please don’t tell me you don’t know her. Not again.”
Kabrosh nodded weakly. “I noticed she was unique.”
“Did she explain to you why she wanted the bomb?”
He did not answer. Merely stared down at his broken arm. The kinks in it were grotesque; it was already turning purple. She could tell he wanted to reply to her question but was afraid—of her and Sheri. Yet she felt not a shred of pity for him. A man who would sell the agony of millions for money? Such a person did not deserve to live.
“She did not say,” he finally admitted.
Ali sensed truth in his words. “Was it a powerful bomb?”
“Yes.”
“Was it a single bomb?”
“Yes.”
“How much did she give you for it?”
“Five hundred million dollars.”
“In cash?”
He nodded. “Cash, diamonds, negotiable bonds.”
“What was the specific designation of the bomb you sold her?”
“It was a very old bomb. One we retired in 1957, named MK-41. Back then, it could only be delivered by a B-36 jet plane or larger.”
“Why would she want such an old bomb?”
“It was the most powerful bomb the U.S. ever constructed. It gave off a potential blast of twenty-five megatons.”
“That’s the equivalent of twenty-five million tons of dynamite?”
“Yes. It was never actually tested. But there’s no reason to think it won’t work. In the fifties, we tested bombs with yields close to fifteen megatons.”
“Did Sheri worry—because of its age—that it wouldn’t work?”
“Part of our deal was that I would have the detonator replaced with a modern mechanism. It’s the plastic explosives in the detonator portion that degrade with age. The nuclear components can sit for decades and not be affected.”
“So you primed her bomb with a brand new detonator and sold it to her. Didn’t you worry what she was going to do with it?”
“She assured me it was going to be used against an Arab nation that’s hated inside the Pentagon, and everywhere else in the world for that matter. She also assured me that the blast would not be traced back to the U.S.”
“How could she make that last promise?”
“The age of the bomb helps. I doubt anyone would recognize what it was—after it detonated. Except an internal Pentagon expert.”
“But to deliver such a weapon . . . How much does it weigh?”
“Nine thousand pounds.”
Ali shook her head. “It all sounds so neat and clean. You get half a billion dollars, and this woman who just walks into your office gets to buy a bomb that I assume can level practically any city on Earth.”
“It could do that, yes.”
“May I ask you a question, General?”
He squirmed in pain. “Go ahead.”
“I’m sure you must have considered it.”
His arm was killing him. “Just ask your question!”
“What if she decides to blow the sucker off in downtown L.A.?”
“She won’t do that. She’s an American citizen and she loves this country. She’s also a devout Christian. She hates Islam. Her goal in life, she confided in me, was to wipe that heretic religion off the face of the Earth.”
“A devout Christian? Boy, I wonder what the Jesus I read about in the Bible would have to say about someone like her.”
“She won’t use it here.”
“It’s so heavy . . . How will she get it out of the country?”
He didn’t answer her question, just tried to readjust his aching arm.
“You’re not telling me everything you know,” Ali said.
“That’s not true.”
“Right. Sure. When and where did you give her the bomb?”
“Two days ago. Not far from Edwards Air Force base.”
Ali was surprised she’d only had the bomb such a short time.
“At that time, did she arrange to rent an Air Force bomber?”
“No.”
“Then how is she supposed to get these twenty-five megatons over to this evil Arab nation?”
“That was never my concern.”
“How convenient.” Ali paused. “Did she ever talk to you about the explosive force—how it radiates—if the bomb is detonated underground?”
Kabrosh swallowed thickly. “No.”
Ali sighed. “You’re lying.”
He looked up. “I’m not, I swear it.”
She leaned forward. “I can do a lot worse to your other arm. This is your last chance. Did Sheri Smith want detailed information about how the power of the bomb would radiate when placed deep inside a cave?”
He hesitated. “She wanted our secret data on all our underground nuclear tests for the last twenty years.”
“Were you able to get it for her?”
“I was able to get her some of it.”
“Did it satisfy her?”
“I don’t know. She kept asking for more. Look, I’ve answered . . .”
Ali interrupted. “Could a bomb of this power—carefully placed deep inside a potentially active volcano—help trigger an eruption?”
Kabrosh was a long time answering. “She asked me that.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That there was no way to know for sure.”
“General Kabrosh. What are you going to do after I leave here?”
“Probably go to the hospital and have my arm treated.”
“But at some point you’re going to call Sheri Smith, right?”
“I’ve no reason to call her. Our business is finished.”
“Ours isn’t. I need to know where that bomb is.”
“The last I saw it, the bomb was on a truck twenty miles outside of Edwards.”
“Two days ago?”
“Yes.”
“What direction was the truck headed?”
“North.” He added, “Not that that means anything.”
Ali sat a lon
g time in thought. The general looked worried.
“What are you thinking?” he asked finally.
“You’re a dangerous man to leave walking around.”
He got very anxious. “I’ve been cooperative. I’ve told you everything I know.”
“When she calls, or you call her, you’ll be cooperative all over again. You’ll tell her I was here, and everything you told me. That might cause her to alter her plan.”
“But you don’t know her plan!”
Ali played with the gun. “This might surprise you, but normally I’m not a cruel person. Unfortunately, lately, situations have demanded the worst of me.” She paused. “You sold a bomb knowing it would be used to kill millions of people. You did it for money. That was your only motivation.”
Kabrosh stared at her with pleading eyes. “I have a wife. I have twin daughters. They’re good people. I took the money for their sakes. My daughters have children and . . .”
Ali had raised her hand. “Quiet.”
He fell to his knees, pleading. “I swear, I won’t tell Sheri Smith I even met . . .”
“Shut up! I’m thinking!” He fell silent. Ali added, “Are any of your family or friends going to come by in the next two days?”
“No.” He was speaking the truth.
“Do you have rope and duct tape in this apartment?”
He looked uneasy. “Yes.”
“Okay. I’m going to tie you up—very tight—and return later, when I get the chance. Then, depending on the status of the world at that time, I’m either going to kill you or let you go. But whatever happens, the money you took from Sheri Smith, you’re to give it to the poor in Africa. You’re to sell both your new homes and not keep a penny for yourself. Deal?”
“But I have to go to the hospital. The bones of my arm have to be set.”
“No. I want you to live with the pain, and reflect on the pain your evil deeds would have caused millions of people if I hadn’t shown up this morning.” Ali paused. “Deal?”
He sounded beaten. “Deal.”
Ali stood and tucked the gun in her belt. “If you attempt to escape while I’m tying you up, I’ll break every bone in your neck. Two days ago I did that to a school buddy of mine, and that was a guy I used to have a crush on.”
General Kabrosh proved very cooperative as she tied him up.
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