Orders of Magnitude (The Genie and the Engineer Series Book 2)

by Glenn Michaels

  “A nuclear explosion?” Capie asked, concerned that even at that moment, she was being irradiated with huge amounts of nuclear particles.

  “No,” Banzai declared, shaking his head. “No gamma radiation here, other than the standard background levels. No, this was something different. As powerful as a nuclear blast, yes. But not nuclear. Hmm, thermobaric, maybe. A very large thermobaric FAE explosion might do this. Very large Fuel Air Explosion.”

  Capie’s head whipped around sharply. “Thermobaric, you said? I saw that term recently. Yes, the KAB-1500…oh, my God! That’s what they needed Kuzman for! The KAB-1500S is a thermobaric version of the bomb he helped design.” She glanced around at the area of destruction. “This could level a small city!”

  “This was not a KAB-1500S. A larger blast here than that one. Quite a bit larger. Perhaps three or four of them. Yes, it could be that,” agreed Banzai, as his image started to fade away. “It sure could.”

  “And just what does the Iranian government plan to do with such a device now that they’ve tested it?” whispered Capie in horror as she wiped beads of sweat from her forehead.

  TWELVE

  Basrah Airport Hotel

  Basrah Airport Hwy

  Basrah, Iraq

  July

  Wednesday 7:03 p.m. AST

  “Thermobaric, huh?” Paul’s image said in the Skype display hanging midair in the hotel room. “That sounds incredibly nasty.”

  “I agree,” Capie said, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

  She was lying on her left side, on the bed, propped up on one elbow, facing the display. Paul’s image was clearly being broadcast from the garage of the rental house, and it was also clearly morning in San Jose, the sun streaming through the east garage window visible behind him.

  “I have changed my mind about this whole situation, CB,” Paul said, waving a hand. Uncle Sam, the strategist hologram, appeared in the image with him. “The idea that the Iranian government has developed a super thermobaric weapon is very disturbing.”

  “It is possible,” Uncle Sam interjected in a guarded tone, “that they will simply add the weapon to their inventory, to be used only in the event of a serious war or even just in self-defense.”

  “Do you really believe that?” asked Capie, eyeing the super-intelligence dubiously.

  “No, I don’t,” Uncle Sam replied with a wry grin. “I said that it was possible, not that it was likely.”

  “So? What do we do about it?” Paul asked, one eyebrow cocked at the specter beside him.

  “I suggest that Capie do a little bit more investigating. We need to know how many bombs the Iranians constructed and where they are being stored.”

  “I don’t like how dangerous this is becoming,” Paul admitted apprehensively. “Capie, why don’t you wait there at the Basrah Airport Hotel and I will be there tomorrow evening, local time.”

  “No,” argued Capie. “It’s not necessary. And I don’t want to take you away from the Scottie project. By the way, Dom, you haven’t told me what sort of progress you are making.”

  “Don’t think that I am not noticing how you are trying to change the subject,” he said wagging a finger at her. “I am nearly finished building the sixteen qubit processor and will test it probably later this afternoon.”

  “That’s excellent news. I can’t take you away from that. Besides, it’s not as dangerous here as I feared. I’ve seen no sign of Oni or Errabêlu. And I don’t plan to go anywhere near Tehran.”

  “She’s right,” Uncle Sam pointed out. “She doesn’t have to go to Tehran to find out how many bombs they built. She needs to go to Shiraz instead. That’s where the electronics firm is located and obviously, that’s where they built the special detonator they needed for the thermobaric bomb.”

  “Special detonator?” Capie asked. “Why? What’s special about it?”

  “A thermobaric fuel air bomb requires a dual detonator system,” explained Uncle Sam. “The first detonator destroys the casing and disperses the explosive over a very large area. The second and stronger detonator detonates that explosive. The two detonators have to be very carefully designed and manufactured to meet the special requirements of the weapon.”

  “Ah,” responded Capie with a thoughtful look. “So that’s where Shiraz Electronics fits into this picture. Good. Then all I have to do in the morning is go to the city of Shiraz, tap into their electronics computer network and find out how many detonator systems they made.”

  “Humph,” Paul grunted in an unhappy tone. “That’s all, she says. You know as well as I do that it won’t be that simple.”

  “Relax,” Capie told him. “It’s not any harder than anything else I’ve already done. I’ll call you back tomorrow and let you know how it went, dear.”

  “Please don’t do anything dangerous,” Paul pleaded with her. “And if you find anything, call me no matter what time of the day or night it might be. Okay, CB?”

  With an understanding smile, she blew him a kiss and ended the call.

  • • • •

  The early morning rays of the sun found Capie in the Iranian city of Shiraz, sitting on a park bench in Hashemi Park, which was conveniently located across the street from the Shiraz Electronics Industries complex. The size of the huge facility and the number of multi-story metal and brick buildings involved impressed Capie a great deal. And she thought the high chain link fence topped with barbed wire and the armed guards visibly patrolling the grounds inside were quite intimidating as well.

  Fortunately she didn’t need to go inside the place. She was more than close enough for what she needed to do next. She glanced around, to ensure that none of the other people in the park were looking in her direction and then waved one hand, creating a large virtual tablet in her lap. Opening up a microportal, she linked the tablet to the computer network across the street. A system logon screen appeared before her and, with a touchscreen keyboard on the tablet, she launched into an effort to hack into the Shirazi system.

  It was more challenging than she thought it would be and she had to create a holographic super-intelligence, Alec Hardison (the hacker from the TV Series Leverage), to solicit the specter’s expert advice in order to get past the security firewalls.

  Once inside, she looked for any records on Project Amm, the project name given to her by General Ahmadi. She quickly discovered that there were such records but that they were classified secret and encrypted. She also noted that there weren’t really all that many records in the electronic database. Apparently, the company had made an effort to keep as many records as possible off the computers. However, by tracing the financial payments associated with the project, she did discover charges for three freight shipments: the first one to the Esfahan airbase, by truck, in early May. A second and larger one to Tehran, by way of rail, to the Doshan Tappeh Air Base. At the same time, a third shipment went to Shiraz International Airport, also by way of truck.

  The third shipment bothered her a great deal. Why the airport, she wondered? There was already a rail shipment to Tehran. If the third consignment was also going to Tehran, why split it up and send it two different ways?

  So where could the third shipment possibly be going? Nothing in the company’s database gave her the slightest clue.

  And it irked her. Obviously, she would need to go to the airport itself and do more snooping around.

  Paul had been right. It wasn’t straight forward after all.

  That third shipment. An international airport. Sure, there were connections there to other cities in Iran. So it was possible that the detonator or detonators in that shipment would stay in country. But her suspicions were otherwise.

  She went back to the company website and copied down all the shipping numbers that she could find. Hurriedly, she closed down her spells, got to her feet and walked further into the park. Then, behind yet another cloaking spell, she took to the air. Once clear of the trees, she headed southeast, toward the airport on the other side of the city.
The Oni following her was careful to trail far enough behind to remain unobserved.

  • • • •

  Since Shiraz International Airport was only fourteen miles away by air, southeast of the Shiraz Electronics facility, it didn’t take her long to reach the terminal building.

  And three hours after her arrival, in the mid-afternoon, here she was now, sitting on the edge of the roof of the control tower, fifty feet off the ground, elbows on knees and her face in her hands.

  Feeling very frustrated.

  The airport was large, the second largest in Iran, so she had discovered. And very busy too.

  She watched as yet another airliner, an Airbus A340-300 this time, ramped up its engines and rumbled the length of the tarmac, lifting gracefully into the air.

  “Tia, some advice here, please,” she muttered unhappily.

  The image of the Queen of the Fairies appeared, sitting on the edge of the roof beside Capie, mimicking her pose exactly.

  “Got a problem, I see,” Tia remarked conversationally.

  Capie sighed before answering. “I’m looking for one small shipment in a huge airport full of cargo and passengers. I’ve hacked into and checked the records of all the airline companies here. I can find no link to any of the shipping numbers that I saw at the electronics facility. It’s as if the blasted crate the detonator or detonators were packed in has vanished into thin air!” She scratched the side of her nose and sighed again. “No pun intended there.” She watched as a Fokker 100 made a landing approach, the squeal of the tires as it touched down audible even from her location. “It’s here. Or at least, it was here at one time. It’s just that there is so much cargo! I’d rather look for a needle in a haystack!”

  “I see.” Tia observed quietly. For several moments they sat together, not saying anything.

  “Tell me something,” Tia said. “Why did you check all of the airlines? What makes you think the Iranian government would ship explosive detonators on anything but a domestically owned airline?”

  Capie sat up slowly, her mouth dropping in astonishment. “Ah, oops…” and then her voice trailed off as she snapped alert, whipping her head back and forth, examining the airport in front of her as if seeing it for the first time.

  “That’s right,” Tia agreed with a nod. “I suggest concentrating on the largest domestic airline that handles freight first.”

  “Iran Air Cargo,” Capie said, the light beginning to dawn in her eyes. “A truck delivering a single crate from Shiraz—that would be somewhat unusual. Perhaps what would be called a ‘special shipment.’”

  “Right. A special shipment that arrived on…well, what day would that have been?”

  Capie closed her eyes and groaned. “I didn’t think of tackling it based on the date of arrival. That would maybe be the same day the truck left Shiraz? Maybe the day after that?”

  “Better include the day after that too, just to be safe,” Tia pointed out. “So, a special shipment that arrived and went out on Iran Air Cargo in a three day window.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” Capie declared, levitating off the ledge and flying off toward the terminal building. “Oh, and thanks!”

  Tia waved an indifferent hand as she faded away. “No sweat. Just my lot in life now.”

  • • • •

  “Got you nailed!” Capie announced smugly, as she scanned the shipping records in the holographic image floating in front of her.

  Lacking a better option for quick privacy, she had chosen a location between two buses in the parking lot across from the terminal building where she was more or less out of sight of any passersby. She counted on her invisibility spell to insure things stayed that way, in case anyone did by chance wander by and see her.

  But what she hadn’t counted on were Oni.

  At the end of the ‘alley’ formed by the buses, the appearance of a shadow caught the corner of her eye. Two Oni stepped into the opening there. She swung around quickly to find two more at the other end of the ‘alley.’ And, looking up, there were two on top of the buses as well.

  Surrounded.

  One of the Oni on the ground stepped forward, a white flag appearing magically in one of its—paws?

  “Wizard,” it growled menacingly. “Who are you? What is your name?”

  Capie flinched back, her heart suddenly in her stomach. She also found it hard to breathe. And, moreover, she didn’t trust that white flag. She knew what the Oni were capable of.

  “Your name!” the creature demanded more loudly. “What is your name?!”

  “None of your business,” she snapped, crouching against the side of one of the buses, desperately and nervously trying to remember the most powerful spell she could use to protect herself. Why was her mind a sudden blank?

  The Oni gestured at the talisman medallion she wore. “By its signature, you carry the talisman of Kenneth McDougall, Errabêlu of Canada. But you are not him. Your face does not match that of any known wizard. My master demands to know. Who are you? What is your name?”

  “Capie!” she snarled out the answer viciously. “I am Capie! Daughter of a famous Normal, killed—no, murdered in cold blood—by hideous disgusting Oni monsters, just like you!”

  The Oni took an instinctive step backward, disturbed by the woman’s hatred and venom. Clearly, it wasn’t prepared for her animosity.

  “Why are you here, in this country, in this place?’ it demanded again. “What do you seek?”

  But Capie suddenly remembered the spell for fusion, and mentally she reached out to the decorative water fountain several hundred feet away. With quick concentration, she cast the spell.

  An explosion the equivalent of ten pounds of TNT went off, the blast hurling a geyser of water skyward more than a hundred feet high. The shockwave from the blast caught all of the Oni by surprise, and they flinched backward from the raining cloud of concrete debris.

  Only two seconds went by before the most alert of the group swung back towards the woman.

  But she was already gone.

  “Track her!” shouted the Oni with the white flag.

  A gemstone was produced in the hands of another Oni and it scanned the area where Capie had stood.

  “This way!” it announced, opening a portal wide and jumping straight in.

  The other five darted through after it.

  • • • •

  “Where are you calling from now, dear?” the image of Paul said in the Skype window.

  “Dubai,” his wife answered. “United Arab Emirates. From the Atlantis, The Palm Hotel. We should try this place for a romantic weekend sometime, Dom,” she added, running one finger slowly over the luxurious fabric of the armchair she was sitting in while glancing around at the hotel room’s other furnishings. “Or maybe a whole week. Very nice place. We could make up for all the kisses and hugs I’ve missed lately.”

  Paul smiled wistfully. “A nice idea. I’ve missed you too, CB. But, to stay on topic, I did a bit of research on thermobaric weapons. According to Wikipedia, the explosive material typically used is either ethylene oxide or propylene oxide. Both of those fuels are widely available on a commercial basis practically anywhere in the world. Iran itself is a major producer of ethylene oxide. My guess is that’s what they used for their test in the desert.”

  “Oh, I see,” Capie slowly said. “If they wanted to use a bomb somewhere, they don’t need to make the bomb in Iran and ship it out. That might be hard to do, if it’s really big and heavy. They can build the bomb almost anywhere, using local materials, including the fuel for the bomb. The only special component is the detonators, which are much smaller and lighter than the bomb itself and more easily shipped.”

  “Exactly,” Paul admitted. “Although the detonators are explosives all by themselves. You certainly couldn’t ship them by UPS!”

  But Capie was looking very green around the gills. “What you just told me, about the fuels? I just put that together with what I learned in Shiraz.”

  Paul bl
inked in return, looking suddenly apprehensive. “Which is what? How did it go in Shiraz?”

  Capie leaned earnestly forward. “They made several detonators. Most of them are still in Iran. But at least one and probably more were shipped out of the country, just after the test out in the desert.”

  What she wasn’t saying and had no plans to tell him was the story of her run-in with the Oni at the airport. Her husband wouldn’t take that very well. In truth, she herself was still shaking a bit from that encounter. The only reason she had escaped was that the fusion spell had startled them. Next time, that spell probably wouldn’t work so well, at least, not as a distraction. She would need to think up a better solution before she had another such confrontation with them.

  And she had been lucky too, in avoiding their pursuit. Using the power of McDougall’s full talisman, she had managed to screw with the energy of her portal from Shiraz, sending any pursuit off in a different direction. She wondered what the Oni’s reaction had been when they had portaled into the tomb of Ramses the Great in the Valley of the Kings in Egypt. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall for that event!

  Her husband looked down and shook his head. “So they are planning to use the detonators and build a bomb somewhere. But where? Here in the States?”

  “No,” was her answer. “I traced the detonator shipment to a specific airline and a specific flight. It went by cargo service by Iran Air. First leg of the journey was to Caracas, Venezuela.”

  “Venezuela?” Paul asked, a puzzled frown on his face. “Why there?”

  “From there, it was transferred to a Gol Linhas Aereas Inteligentes flight, non-stop to Guarulhos International Airport, Sao Paulo, Brazil.”

  Paul put hand to chin, deep in thought. “Sao Paulo, Brazil…” And then he dropped his hand, his face blanching white, his eyes opening wide in unrestrained and total surprise.

  “That’s right,” Capie said, confirming his sudden obvious guess. “Sao Paulo. Only two hundred miles from Rio de Janeiro and that was only a few weeks ago, so plenty of time before the start of the International Summer Olympics to build a bomb.”