by Arno Joubert
Alexa managed to follow Yumi's trail, it headed straight through the forest, not deviating left or right. After four miles, the forest opened up and they came to a clearing. She motioned to Neil that he should stop, then she dropped on all fours and crawled forward. The moonlight shone on a rickety old wooden fence. It meandered in a haphazard way around a dilapidated double-story farmhouse, the shingles on the roof lifting and the paint peeling. It was dark inside.
She heard someone approach and ducked. She lifted her head and peered over the grass. Rowley stood smoking, arguing with Collingwood about Yumi. Collingwood threw his hands in the air, disappearing around a corner.
She saw Rowley examine the ground, a flashlight waving to-and-fro and Rowley started walking towards them, his eyes on the ground.
He spoke into a two-way radio and thirty seconds later two more men joined him. He waved his flashlight around the yard, they ducked as he pointed it straight to where Alexa and Neil were hiding. The men nodded in agreement and split up, one of them heading straight toward Alexa and Neil.
Alexa pulled her Glock from her holster, but Neil touched her leg. "Wait, let me," he said crawling forward. "That'll make too much noise."
She nodded gratefully. Her entire body was throbbing, she felt like she had a fever. She knew the feeling, septicemia had set in on her wounds, and her body was fighting the inflammation by sending blood to the infected areas. Her body was literally poisoning itself. She gritted her teeth. Physical pain she could endure. She had to finish this job.
The man jogged closer, following Yumi's tracks and crouched at the pole fence. He vaulted over the fence and Neil jumped up, smashing a palm into his nose, following up with a double punch to the temple. The man fell down with a thump, and Neil finished him off by jerking his head to the side. Alexa heard his neck break.
She fished her cell phone from her jacket pocket. "General, we have managed to track them down."
"Coordinates."
Alexa took the GPS from Neil and read Laiveaux the coordinates.
"Okay, hang tight, I'm sending backup." Laiveaux hesitated. "Alexa, we think we know what his targets are going to be."
"Yes?"
"He's planning on blowing up all the nuclear power stations around the world."
Alexa swallowed. Shit, this was bad.
"Okay, wait there, we're on our way," Laiveaux said again.
She disconnected the call.
"What are our orders?” Neil asked.
"He wants us to wait."
Sonti scanned the computer screens in the operation's room. The girl's escape had thrown a spanner in the works; he would have to move forward faster than he had anticipated.
He hated not keeping his promises.
He pressed a button on the console and spoke into a microphone. "Okay, I'm locking the place down. Get your men inside."
"What about the girl?" Rowley asked.
"She doesn't matter anymore."
"Copy that."
Sonti checked his watch, his finger hovering above a red button on the console. All the years of preparation had come down to this moment.
He blinked, took a deep breath and pushed the button.
He heard the satisfying slam around the premises as the barriers slid into place. Large red numerals appeared on his screen, counting down from ten minutes.
He leaned back and lit a cigarette. It had begun.
Koeberg Nuclear Power Station
Western Cape, South Africa.
T minus 0 seconds
Johnny Fortuin looked up as the rumbling projectile whistled through the morning sky, trailing a plume of white smoke behind it. He followed its trajectory through the air, his hand cupped over his eyes. His heart skipped a beat as he saw it heading toward the plant. "Oh shit, get out," he shouted, waving his arms and started running, glancing over his shoulder.
A second later, he heard the explosion as it slammed into silo three of the generation plant. And then he saw another rocket heading their way.
He grabbed his two way radio from his belt. "Eksteen, get the people out of here, the station is being bombed or something."
The radio hissed in his hand, no response.
He glanced back as the rocket exploded into silo one. It imploded slowly, like he was watching it in slow motion, before it swayed a bit and rumbled down on its base in a massive cloud of dust.
He stopped in his tracks and crushed his hands to his ears as another rocket hit the Admin block. He kneeled, holding his arms over his head as he was showered with pieces of rock and mortar and glass. He jumped over the debris and ran into the smoking building. People were stumbling around aimlessly, in shock.
"Monique," he shouted. She sat behind his upturned desk, her blackened face covered in scrapes and scratches, coughing and choking. He helped his secretary up and dragged her out of the building.
Another rocket exploded into a car in the parking lot a hundred yards to his left, the vehicle lifting off the ground and flipping onto its roof. He ducked, pulling Monique down with him.
She clutched at his arm. "Wait, I have to go to the crèche, Lucy's still there."
He had forgotten about her girl. He didn't have children of his own, but he knew what her daughter meant to her. He supported her by her arm as they made their way to the back of Admin block A. He almost gagged as he smelled the stench of burning human flesh.
Monique shrieked as her hand went to her mouth. They stepped over the crumbling walls. Nothing was left of the place except a large, charred hole in the ground and lots of small bodies tossed around where the playpen used to be. Mrs. Naudè's lifeless body lay slumped over her desk.
Johnny Fortuin looked up at the heavens. Why would anyone do something like this? Monique sank to the ground next to him, sobbing hysterically. He grabbed his secretary's arm. "Come on Monique, we have to go," he said, pulling the woman to her feet.
She shook her head, crawling forward on all fours. "I can't." She lifted a tiny, lifeless body and clutched it to her chest.
Johnny looked around him. He didn't know what to do. People waddled around him like zombies, some missing limbs, all of them covered in blood. And Monique sat there, howling at the sky, her shoulders jerking up and down as she cried.
Interpol Headquarters,
Paris, France.
07:15 AM
T minus 5 minutes
Laiveaux leaned on the table, supporting his weight with his good arm. He cradled a red receiver on his shoulder, and he was directing the people in the boardroom with his other hand. "Get this stations evacuated right now. Send the nuclear containment squads ASAP, we need to minimize the fallout."
Dumas nodded, then hurried out of the room.
The President of South Africa answered the phone, sounding tired. "President Mofokeng, you need to get the emergency services to evacuate a five mile radius around all your nuclear power stations."
"Laiveaux?"
"There's no time to explain, Mr. President. Please get your emergency services to evacuate a five mile radius around all your nuclear power stations."
"What the hell, have you gone insane--"
Laiveaux slammed the phone down. He felt like Noah preaching to the deaf. The phone rang again. "Hello?"
"Laiveaux, what's all this nonsense about someone planning to target our nuclear facilities?"
"President Ross, we have information that a terrorism organization is going to attack your nuclear power facilities."
"When?"
Laiveaux glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Soon."
"How the hell do you expect me to react to that? I thought Interpol was supposed to give us fair warning of events such as these. How should I organize emergency services to--"
"Look, Mr President, you need to shut the fuck up and get moving. Your time is running out." He slammed the phone down.
Bruce dashed into the room. "It's started."
"What?"
"There was an explosion at Koeberg a couple of min
utes ago. Details are sketchy, but it looks like two mortars hit the nuclear reactor."
"But Sonti said--"
"Since when have you ever trusted the word of a terrorist, General?" Bruce asked.
They checked the satellite image against the wall. Tiny red pinpricks started to blink on and off, a blue shadow spreading outward slowly from every pinprick.
"What are we going to do?" Bruce asked.
Laiveaux punched a number into his phone. "Alexa, it's started."
"What?"
"They've hit Koeberg in South Africa. Two more a couple of seconds ago."
"Shit, what do we do?"
"Backup isn't going to arrive in time. You need to go in, now."
Alexa and Neil jogged around the building, looking for any openings. All the windows and doors were covered with concrete slabs. The farmhouse was locked down airtight. Neil crouched on the ground and called Alexa over. "Alex, check this out," he said, picking up shards of glass on the ground. "I think this is where Yumi got out."
"Shit," Alexa said, tapping her lower lip with her finger. She patted her jacket pockets and fished out her cell phone and dialed a number. "Colonel Frydman, this is Captain Guerra."
"Yes, Captain?" The man sounded frightened.
"We're at Sonti's place. He's locked it down with concrete slabs. How the hell do I get in?"
Yes, yes," the Colonel said. "His protection against the fallout." He went silent.
"Colonel?"
"Give me a minute."
Alexa sighed, slapping her palm against the concrete slab.
"Okay, these slabs are heavy, they'll probably be manipulated with a hydraulic lifting mechanism. You need to reverse the polarity on the lift," Frydman said out of breath.
"How?"
"Find the power source, it should lead to a keypad."
Alexa scanned the ground, looked up at the walls. "I don't see anything."
"Okay, there will definitely be a keypad inside the building somewhere close to the slab. These things need to function independently in case of system override."
Alexa slapped her thigh. "That's the point, Colonel. I need to be inside to reverse the polarity."
"Captain, listen to me. All Sonti wants is to avoid the nuclear fallout, correct?"
"Okay?"
"How thick are the slabs?"
She shrugged, thumping the concrete with her fist. "About fifteen centimeters, I guess."
"So break the damn thing!" Weinstein shouted.
Alexa looked around for tools. "Okay, I'll try, bye," she said and slipped the phone into her pocket.
"What are you looking for?" Neil asked.
"Something to break in, a sledgehammer or something."
"How about that?" Neil said pointing to a four-wheel drive truck parked in the driveway.
She sprinted to the truck and climbed inside. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found the keys, still in the ignition. "Okay, watch out," she shouted at Neil. She slammed the truck into reverse and drove to the side of the building, lining up the back of the truck with the window where Yumi had gotten out.
She gunned the truck and jerked back in her chair as the back slammed into the wall of concrete. She jumped out and checked the damage.
"More to the left, you've managed to crack it, but it’s too far to the right," Neil shouted.
She nodded and jumped back in. She drove all the way to the fence, then put the vehicle in reverse again. She flattened the gas pedal, but kept the clutch on the floor. The rev counter screamed into the red section and the car shuddered as the engine strained. She dropped the clutch and the car spun away, Alexa steering by checking in the mirror. A moment before impact, she braced in her seat and pushed her head back in the head rest. She hit the slab so hard that the loading bay of the truck crumbled all the way to the wheel arch, slashing the tires, pieces of smoking rubber flying loose and smacking against the back window and the mirrors.
"Whoah!" Neil shouted.
She rammed it into first and pulled forward.
"That sure as hell did it," Neil said, inspecting the damage that the large four-wheeler had caused. The truck had slammed through the concrete block and a part of the wall.
Alexa peered inside. "It looks like a basement cellar or something," Alexa said, lowering herself down.
Neil jumped down beside her. There were rows of shelves containing supplies that could last a small army a couple of years. Four large generators stood side by side, and more than a hundred twenty-liter jerry cans were stacked neatly beside them. Neil whistled softly. "Looks like they're ready to bunker down for a couple of months."
Alexa stood in front of a wall, hands on her hips. "What do you think this is for?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
Neil whistled softly. "What the hell?"
The wall was filled with photos of Alexa, some cut out of yearbooks, schools that Alexa had attended as a kid. Newspaper clippings of investigations in which Alexa had been involved were also stuck against the wall. Black-and-white photos of Alexa and Neil, walking hand-in-hand, Alexa in a chair, sleeping beside Laiveaux's hospital bed.
Neil snorted. "Someone has a crush on you."
Alexa nodded. "Let's go fond out why." She pulled her Glock from her shoulder holster and scrambled up the stairs. Alexa fiddled with the door handle and stood to the side. "It's locked."
Neil nodded and slammed his foot into the door, below the handle. It burst open. Alexa peered around the corner before entering the passageway. It reminded her a lot of the complex on Knifepoint Island. The floors and walls were painted a shiny but bland grey, like the stuff they used on the floors in airplane hangars or large car workshops.
She led the way and turned to her right. The passageway ended in a locked door. She stood back again and Neil booted the door off its hinges. She flicked a light switch.
They saw a large room filled with wooden crates, stacked neatly on top of one another.
Alexa removed the top off a crate and scratched some foam bubbles to the side. "Holy shit," she said as she tried to pick up one of the gold bars. She couldn't. "Check the others," she told Neil.
He ripped open another crate and heaved a bar out. "They're all the same."
Laiveaux cursed as another red blip appeared on the screen. "How do you think he's activating the missiles?" he asked Bruce.
Bruce brushed his fingers through his hair, drummed the table with his fingers. "Cell phones, would be my guess. All the latest surface to surface missile carriers are equipped to be remotely discharged."
Laiveaux nodded as he punched a number into his phone. "I need to speak to the Minister of Energy, this is General Alain Laiveaux from Interpol."
He waited a moment before his call was patched through. "Lilianne, Laiveaux here."
"General, I wish I could speak, but I'm dealing--"
"Lilliane, we've managed to track down the terrorist group to a secure location in Les Vesinet."
She went quiet, then said, "Go ahead, Alain."
"They're discharging the missiles remotely using cellular technology."
"What do you want me to do, Alain?"
"I need the power grid to the entire city switched off. I need to disable those cellular towers."
"All right, Alain. Give me two minutes. But some of those towers still have backup generators, you know."
"Leave that to me," he said and disconnected the call.
He punched another number into his phone. It was answered after three rings. "General Lazard, General Laiveaux, Interpol. I have a code one situation."
The man grunted. "Yes, I heard that you had your hands full."
"General, I need you to locate and eliminate all cellular towers in a twenty mile radius of Les Vesinet--"
"Alain, there could be loss of lives, Les Vesinet is a densely populated area."
Laiveaux closed his eyes. "We're looking at a hundred million casualties if the terrorists manage to detonate all of their missiles."
Th
e man was silent.
"What would your collateral be?" Laiveaux asked.
"A couple of thousand, I guess," Lazard answered.
"Do it," Laiveaux ordered.
"Affirmative, General. It'll be you ass, this conversation is being recorded."
"Just do it," Laiveaux said again and disconnected the call.
He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He ignored Bruce and started praying for the souls of those who had lost their lives and for those who would in the near future. And then he prayed for the salvation of his own soul.
Allan Sonti cursed as the lights dimmed, but the backup generators kicked in. "You're going to have to do more than that to stop me, Laiveaux," he mumbled.
He flipped through all the CCTV cameras to make sure that they were operational and swore again. Captain Guerra had managed to enter the facility, and she was snooping through his bullion stocks. He spoke into the microphone. "James, Captain Guerra and the Sergeant are inside."
"Where?"
"In the treasury."
"Okay, let's deal with these bastards once and for all."
Sonti nodded. "Get Rowley to help."
"Okay."
"And James..."
"Yes?"
"Don't screw this up."
James said nothing.
Sonti jumped up from his chair. Did he need to do everything himself?
Alexa spun around when she heard the door open.
"I see you've managed to infiltrate our little lair," James Rue said with a chuckle. He was holding Nicole Rue by her waist, pointing a gun to her head. "Drop your weapons or I shoot her."
"We all have skeletons in our closets," Alexa said, raising her Glock to James Rue's chest.
Neil frowned, placing his gun on the floor. "You'll shoot your own wife?"
President Nicole Rue tried to pull James' hand from her waist. "Please...,please, do as he says, these people are crazy," she begged, black mascara marks trailing down her cheeks.