Final Strike--A Sean Falcone Novel
Page 44
The Mormon Church, so often ridiculed as one of Christianity’s illegitimate children, turned savior to the masses of the new homeless in several of the Western states that had been hit hardest. Mormon warehouses, filled with food, medicines, and survival materials were shared generously with hundreds of thousands of the dispossessed.
Falcone had hoped that the Mormons’ act of immense charity might make religious bigotry a little less intense … at least for a decent interval. But that was the great mystery about religion, about what could never be known on this side of existence. Whether we were all just some accident, a cosmic joke, or an important part of a Creator’s plan?
What could be more ironic—or planned—than for Robert Hamilton to have jetted off to Jerusalem and be annihilated there when one of Janus’ fragments slammed into the Jehoshaphat Valley, caroming into the Old City, taking down the Western Wall and the Temple Mount? The center of all three of the great religions, in one violent second, had been enveloped in a fireball that turned centuries of history into charcoaled dust.
Was it just the roulette wheel of chance that wreaked such destruction? Or the vengeful hammer of God?
Was Hamilton seeking safety in Jerusalem or spiritual redemption and reward? Did it really matter?
More important to Falcone was Rachel’s fate. Was she there when Janus hit? He hadn’t heard from her, but that wasn’t unusual. She would drop out of sight for years at a time, and suddenly surface in a moment of crisis—as if she were his guardian angel.
Until he met Rachel, Falcone was convinced he’d never love again. He had lost so much over the years. His wife and son. His years in prison. His faith … And maybe now even the woman he wanted to be with at this moment more than anyone else in the world. He could not imagine her dead. She was too alive, too vital, too …
Falcone emptied his glass as he fought back the emptiness welling up inside.
So much had changed in a year’s time. Too much remained the same. A new president had been elected; a new spirit of optimism had infused the nation. Yet on Capitol Hill, the same forces of entropy and gridlock had started to set in and bring the wheels of government to a grinding halt.
Politicians had once again made promises they knew they couldn’t and wouldn’t keep. Confidence in government had spiked in the aftermath of having escaped the threat of extinction. But with each passing day, that confidence began to ebb as people the world over retreated to old habits. Ethnic hatreds surfaced here and abroad, along with territorial quests for the Earth’s water and wealth. Space continued to be scoped out and explored by military powers with the hope of achieving a strategic high ground so valuable in battle.
Perhaps it was folly to think that peace on earth and goodwill toward man would—or could—ever last. Once the danger had passed, there was a slow but steady retreat to separate tribes that distinguished between those who shared physical similarities, a common heritage, culture, and religious affiliation. They staked out separate territories, gathered in communal clusters around the fireplace of commerce and entertainment. There they tuned in to the media that conformed to views that hardened into unshakable convictions and values.
The embers in the Middle East, puffed on by those inflated with anger or fear, burst once again into a hotbed of religious and ethnic rivalry. The Israelis were quick to dig out from under the rubble of what was left of the Old City, and were busily engaged in constructing a new Temple, a new Western Wall from the existing rock pile. Many awaited the emergence of God or the Prophet Muhammad following the destruction of the Temple Mount. They were disappointed.
But belief in a creative force beyond mankind’s ability to comprehend has a power of its own, one that no amount of rational analysis or argument can suppress.
Falcone had long ago given up trying to make any sense of the human condition that was filled with so many noble moments and dark contradictions. Perhaps, he thought, his was the hell of the agnostic, unmoored from religious conviction and left to wander sightless in the desert of perpetual doubt. But how could anyone explain the genius and folly of mankind, its greed and generosity? Its capacity to create and destroy?
Mozart could tickle the hearts of children and enchant those who once commanded Europe’s genocidal death camps. The desire to cure could easily be bent to an eagerness to kill.…
While glancing up at the gleaming Capitol Dome, Falcone’s thoughts shifted to the last conversation he’d had with President Oxley on the terrace outside the Oval Office. It was just before Oxley packed his bags and headed for life as a private citizen.
“These are great cigars, Sean,” Oxley had said, careful not to inhale too deeply. “Been a long time since I dared to smoke one. You know the press!”
“Yeah, and legal, too,” Falcone said, a smile spreading across his face. “Mr. President…”
“You really can call me Blake now.”
“No. That’s a title you can’t shake. It’ll always be Mr. President—even for me.”
“So? You had a question?” Oxley asked.
“I always wondered how you were always able to stay so cool when all hell was breaking loose last year. I mean, you held it all together.”
“Sean,” Oxley said, taking another drag on the cigar, “I remember reading once that you had studied the classics when you were in college. True?”
“True. A hundred years ago. Maybe longer.”
“Remember the story about Pandora’s Box?”
“Vaguely. Don’t think it was a box, but a jar. But as I said, it was a long time ago.”
“Pandora opened the jar and all the evils in the world that were trapped inside flew out.…” Oxley paused for another puff and sent a perfect smoke ring wafting into a clear sky. “I know you have good reasons to think the way you do, but you dwell too much on all those evils.”
“So every day’s a bright new penny?”
“No. I share a lot of your sentiments about mankind. But you’re way too dark.”
Falcone remained silent, tacitly acknowledging Oxley’s bleak assessment.
“Do you remember when Pandora put the lid back on the jar, there was one thing left inside?”
“No. I…”
“That’s your problem, my friend. It was Hope, Sean. Hope. You need to open the jar and let it out.”
Reliving that moment caused Falcone to break into a smile. He looked up at the sky, smooth as dark velvet, a few stars set against it like brilliant diamonds. Maybe one day he would look into that jar.
Maybe he’d even find Rachel there.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
During the time I served as Bill Clinton’s secretary of defense, I was consumed with mastering the intricacies of the multiplicity of threats to our national security. Those threats ranged from nuclear and biological to chemical and conventional. Obviously, those that were existential in nature required a higher level of attention.
At the time, the emergence of cyber technology was in its early stages of evolution. The threat posed by a possible failure to properly program the vast number of computer systems in DoD’s networks in anticipation of entering the twenty-first century (known as Y2K) also served to heighten my awareness of the vulnerability of those systems to state-sponsored, criminal, and rogue-initiated cyber attacks.
The thought that logic bombs traveling at the speed of light could paralyze or destroy major elements in our critical infrastructure, and send us back into something close to a state of nature, was sobering. It certainly caused me to reflect upon just how vulnerable we are to man-made threats, and how fragile are the defensive mechanisms we have in place.
It was not until I departed the Pentagon that I was able to devote time to ponder threats that were less immediate but no less existential.
When I learned that the United States and several other governments—as well as private space buccaneers—were planning to mine asteroids for their mineral and water wealth, I began to focus on both the bright and dark side of technology.
&n
bsp; When Tor/Forge CEO, Tom Doherty, and his uber editorial chief asked me to explore the issues beyond the scope of conventional threat analyses, I suggested the possibility of a killer asteroid colliding with Earth. Both expressed support for the concept as a novel.
In Collision, I explored how technology, which holds such unlimited possibilities for the betterment of mankind, can be bent into a destructive force by greed and arrogance.
In Final Strike, I wanted to sound the alarm and amplify the noise level to alert readers to a danger that may not be immediate, but is, in fact, real. I wanted to disclose just how vulnerable and unprepared we are to deal with Nature’s wrath—particularly when we disturb the Universe by accident or intent.
I want to thank Tom Doherty and Bob Gleason for providing me with the platform to express this warning (wrapped in a “rendition operation,” some of which I drew from my experience at the Pentagon) and to show how technology can help save us from catastrophe as well as take us there.
In helping me sort through volumes of scientific information, NASA studies, and the world of the metaphysical, I am indebted to my friend Tom Allen. Tom spent many hours with me over coffee, muffins, and apple pie, discussing the coexistence of science, religion, and the cosmos. More than thirty years ago, Tom edited The Double Man, the bestselling novel that I coauthored with former senator Gary Hart. He has remained an invaluable resource and friend serving as a wise sounding board for my ideas, plots, and scenarios.
While in college, I majored in Latin and Greek Literature. Math remained more mysterious to me than Egyptian hieroglyphics and so in this novel, as I have on other occasions, I turned to Henry Murry, a brilliant graduate from Georgetown University and colleague in The Cohen Group for assistance in confirming the calculations contained in assessing the velocity of Janus and that of the Russian and American interceptor missiles. But any mathematical errors contained in plotting the arrival of Final Strike are mine alone.
The go-to person in my office has been Charli Sowers, who unfailingly identifies cracks in plotlines and structure and sends me scurrying back to my computer. I am humbled and grateful for her friendship and scrutiny!
In addition, I had the benefit of Elayne Becker and her eagle-eyed team that spotted errors, large and small, in the manuscript. William Strunk, Jr. and E. B. White must make room for a new generation of superb editors!
I also was enriched in my research by the following books:
Pale Blue Dot by Carl Sagan, Ballantine Books (1997);
Near-Earth Objects: Finding Them Before They Find Us by Donald K. Yeomans, Princeton University Press (2013);
Space Chronicles by Neil deGrasse Tyson, W. W. Norton & Co. (2013);
The Asteroid Threat by William E. Burrows, Prometheus Books (2014);
One Second After by William R. Forstchen, A Tom Doherty Associates Book (2009);
Lights Out by Ted Koppel, Crown Publishers (2015);
Rendezvous with Rama by Arthur C. Clarke, Bantam Books (1990);
Lucifer’s Hammer by Larry Niven and Jerryc Pournelle, Ballantine Books (1977);
End of Days by Robert Gleason, A Forge Book, Published by Tom Doherty Associates (2011)
End-Time Visions: The Doomsday Obsession by Richard Abanes, Four Walls Eight Windows (1998);
How Many Future Generations? Armageddon Theology and American Politics by Jim Costello (a discussion paper, People for the American Way, 1985).
Finally, my enduring gratitude to my wife, author and playwright, Janet Langhart Cohen. As disclosed in previous novels, Janet is the inspiration for the character Rachel, the mysterious Israeli assassin who has captured Sean Falcone’s lonely heart. Janet allowed me to slip into my “man cave” for incalculable hours/days to complete this story. Her patience and tolerance for my absence has been otherworldly.
FORGE BOOKS BY WILLIAM S. COHEN
Dragon Fire
Blink of an Eye
Collision
Final Strike
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
WILLIAM S. COHEN served under President Bill Clinton from 1997 to 2001 as the twentieth U.S. secretary of defense. Born in 1940 in Bangor, Maine, Cohen was a member of the U.S. Senate and Congress for twenty-four years. He has written for The Washington Post, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal and is the author of Collision and the New York Times bestselling Dragon Fire. Cohen lives with his wife in the Washington, D.C., area. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Part Two
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Part Three
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Part Four
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Forge Books by William S. Cohen
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work
of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
FINAL STRIKE
Copyright © 2018 by William S. Cohen
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Paul Youll
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Forge® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-0-7653-8163-7 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-8296-6 (ebook)
eISBN 9781466882966
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First Edition: February 2018