The Book of Truths

Chapter 14

“Yucca Flats.” Neeley’s voice was tinny, being relayed from the top of Raven Rock in Pennsylvania through various scramblers and frequency hoppers to the Nightstalkers seated in the rear of the Snake, which was still parked on the ramp at Area 51.

“That’s close,” Eagle said, without having to check a map. “Inside the same restricted space we’re in.” He looked to the southwest and pointed in the dark. “That way.” There was just darkness hanging over the desert.

“That’s the dead zone,” Mac said. “The test area.”

Nada was peering at the display of his iPad, Googling the location, the team looking over his shoulder.

Neeley continued with what she’d learned from Brennan. “They’ve got at least forty warheads, ranging from over sixty years old to current technology hidden in what he called Icecap, whatever the hell that is.”

“Are they deployable by any means?” Mac asked. “Or just stored there?”

“That’s the bad news,” Neeley said. “He said there are three rail line spurs running right through this Icecap building. They’ve got three nuclear-tipped ICBMs loaded on three separate railcars as well as one in the building itself. The plan is if they are needed, they head out along the three spurs and launch at certain intervals. They stripped technology that had been used for Star Wars experiments for this setup.”

“Targets?” Nada asked.

“He didn’t know,” Neeley said. “There’s more.”

Ms. Jones’s voice cut in from the Ranch. “We must assume Area 51 is targeted at the very least since Pinnacle was started as a safeguard against Rifts.”

“Not much flight time from there to here,” Eagle observed. “Three minutes.”

Nada stood. “Then we better get going.”

“You just let him go!” It was more exclamation point than question mark as Moms learned about the military attaché breaking out to the PEOC with the nuclear football. And that the Keep had stood aside. They were in the pantry as the chief of staff and the Secret Service gathered everyone in the Entrance Hall at Moms’s order.

The Keep sighed. “It wasn’t my place to stop him. I thought the Secret Service would be able to, but I was unaware that General Riggs had taken over the PEOC and sent a breach team.”

“Frak,” Moms said. “He’s got the launch codes.”

“He won’t launch,” the Keep said.

Moms closed her eyes, a headache thrumming in her brain. She wondered if she’d missed something, if somehow she’d made contact with an infected person and this was the onset of Cherry Tree.

“What’s going on in there?” the Keep asked, nodding toward the noise coming from the Entrance Hall.

“We’re going to do a group hug,” Moms said, leading the Keep out of the Pantry. “Everyone except you and me and the six agents we’re sure aren’t infected.”

“Intriguing,” was the Keep’s only comment to that course of action.

They were intercepted by Chief of Staff McBride. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. “I say we invite the president-elect here,” he said. “Get her in, have her shake hands with the president, then put both of them in front of the cameras!” It was obvious he thought this was a most brilliant insight. “Then we’ll see through all the bullshit she put out in the debates. I’d put my man against her telling the truth any day.”

Moms halted a safe distance from him. “An intriguing idea.”

One of the uninfected agents hovered behind him. He gave a thumbs-up. Moms and the Keep edged around the crowd. A fight briefly broke out between two staffers, but everyone around them ignored it. Several people were crying. One man was thumping his head, not overly hard, but repeatedly, against the wall.

“I never got that James Bond spy kit I asked for from Santa,” a Secret Service agent was telling a secretary tearfully and she was patting him on the back, consoling him.

Several people stood isolated, making sure they weren’t in contact with those who were obviously infected. Others seemed uncertain if they were infected or not.

Moms climbed up a few steps on the main staircase, the senior uninfected Secret Service agent next to her.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” She had to call out a couple of times to get everyone’s attention. “I have good news!” And bad, she thought, but didn’t say. That assured her she wasn’t infected.

Everyone stared at her expectantly. “What you’ve been infected with, a truth bug, wears out four hours after contact. It has no bad side effects.” A collective sigh of relief rose in the hall. “However,” Moms continued, “we have to get this under control. There is no antidote. And we’re in a circular pattern here, where even if you make it four hours, you’ve likely been reinfected. And on and on. So…” She paused and took a deep breath. “You’re all going to do a group hug at the same time. So everyone’s current infection starts at exactly the same time and will wear off at roughly the same time. We’re going to burn this infection out in the next four hours. Once the hug is over, everyone infected is getting locked in the East Room.”

“Fuck you!” someone in a suit yelled. “Why should—” And an infected Secret Service agent punched the guy in the face with a bit too much satisfaction, spraying blood from a broken nose.

“Anyone who does not participate,” Moms said, “will be locked in the freezer.”

“That’s an order!”

Moms spun about. President Templeton stood at the top of the stairs, his wife on one side, his daughter on the other. “I’ve had enough of everyone whining and complaining.” He looked to the side at his wife, who didn’t meet his gaze. “We have a duty to this country and we need to get back on track.” He strode down the steps, family behind him, and went by Moms and the Keep without even looking at them. He went to the center of the crowd, stretched his hands out and said: “Let’s do this and get it over with.”

And thus the entire White House, minus Moms, the Keep, and six Secret Service agents, were infected or reinfected at exactly the same time. The agents then began herding everyone into the East Room, the president leading the way.

Once everyone was in there, the doors were locked.

The Keep tapped Moms on the shoulder and indicated she should follow. They went up and up, to the very roof of the White House. Because of the restricted airspace, no television helicopters were flitting about, but for the first time in several decades, there weren’t two Secret Service agents armed with surface-to-air missiles on duty here.

“I’m in contact with Hannah,” the Keep said.

“And?” Moms asked.

The Keep pointed to the northwest. “We’ve got help coming.”

A Black Hawk helicopter flared just above the top of the antennas on the roof. A thick Fast Rope tumbled out and a figure slid down, heavy rucksack tilting her almost sideways. The Fast Rope was disconnected, and just as quickly, the Black Hawk raced off into the night.

The Keep stepped between Moms and the newcomer. “Neeley, meet Moms.”

They were at eye level to each other and both were a bit startled to be looking at their own doppelgänger.

“Moms,” Neeley said, with a nod. “Heard of you.”

“I haven’t heard of you.”

Neeley smiled. “That’s good.” The smile was gone. “I hear we’ve got General Riggs in the PEOC with the football. That’s not good.”

“So far he hasn’t—” Moms began, but the Keep held up a hand for silence as she cocked her head to the side. Moms realized she had to have a transmitter/receiver surgically implanted behind her right ear.

The Keep delivered the bad news. “It’s not good. He’s prepared a target package and is getting ready to initiate a countdown using the authorization codes.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a watch and showed them a display: 05:50. “This is synched to the Department of Defense alert system. Someone is firing up the launch computer.”

“Can we get into the PEOC?” Moms asked.

“We can try.” The Keep was already moving, heading for the stairs.

In the PEOC, the red digital clock flashed, and then began its own countdown:

0:05:00

0:04:59

One of Riggs’s staff, a colonel, jumped up. “Sir! You can’t do this.”

Riggs regarded him coldly. “I always knew you were chicken shit. You talked a good line, but the truth outs you after all.”

And then Riggs shot him right through the heart.

Outside the sealed door to the PEOC, Neeley and Moms considered the steel. Neeley shrugged her backpack off, pulling out a shaped charge.

“That won’t work,” the Keep said. She glanced at the watch: 04:10.

“We’ve got to try.” Neeley put the charge on the door.

“Do you have a better idea?” Moms asked. “Is there any way to stop the codes from going out?”

The Keep thought for a second, then sighed. “No. The system was built to prevent anyone from stopping it once the president initiated using the codes.”

“But the president isn’t in there,” Moms said. “Can’t he do something? Issue a command?”

The Keep shook her head. “No.”

“I’m going to blow it,” Neeley said. “Let’s take cover.”

They ran back down the hall and around the corner.

Neeley hit the remote and there was the sharp crack of an explosion.

Inside the PEOC, the detonation sounded distant, an echoing thud.

Riggs laughed. “It’ll take them a year to get in here.”

Then he shot a second officer who was sneaking toward the red lever. The man tumbled to the floor. “Sergeant Major!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take that lever off and bring it to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Inside the Snake’s cargo bay, Nada was going through another checklist. One he hadn’t used in over twenty years.

Eagle had them flying fast and low, skirting around Groom Mountain, over the dry bed of Papoose Lake, and then banking hard into the Nevada Test Range, also known as Yucca Flats.

The terrain changed from desert to disaster. It looked like the surface of the moon. “Doc,” Kirk asked, “how hot is it going to be?”

Doc had a meter out. “We’re clean at altitude, but that dirt down there is guaranteed to be hot. I’ll keep track.”

A black smudge was the only result of the shaped charge. Neeley cursed and began digging through her pack, searching for more explosives.

The Keep checked her watch: 03:12.

Moms patched through to Ms. Jones. “The Acmes come up with anything? Any way to countermand the authorization?”

“Negative,” Ms. Jones said. “They’re still working on it.”

“They need to work faster.”

Neeley slapped another charge on the wall next to the steel door. “Might be weaker there. Maybe we can hit a power line or something.”

The three ran back around the corner and Neeley fired once more.

“It’s directly ahead,” Eagle said. “A tower, probably one hundred and fifty feet high.”

“Open the ramp,” Nada ordered. He looped his arms through the straps on the package he’d drawn from the Vault. He tried to get to his feet, but it was too heavy. Mac and Kirk gave him a hand, and he staggered upright, every muscle in his body vibrating to remain that way with one hundred and fifty pounds on his back. The back ramp yawned open, revealing the pitted landscape fifty feet below.

Then Nada was promptly tumbled to the metal grating, hard, as Eagle jerked the Snake to the left.

“SAM!” he called out as a surface-to-air missile raced by the Snake, missing by scant feet. Eagle continued evasive maneuvers as the missile looped around and came back toward them, homing in on the Snake’s hot engines.

Eagle hit a button and a spread of flares were fired from the side of Snake.

Now it was a matter of odds. What heat source would the missile take?

There wasn’t time for Mac to even propose a wager as the missile took the bait and exploded 350 feet to the right of the Snake.

“Range?” Nada called out, getting to his knees.

“We’re a klick out and I’m going in fast,” Eagle said. “Who knows what other shit they’re going to throw at us.”

“Eagle, once you drop me, get the hell out of range with the rest of the team as fast as you can.”

A hole in the wall was some progress. Except the hole exposed more steel plating.

“Ms. Jones?” Moms’s voice had an edge to it as the Keep held up the watch: 01:15.

“Negative. We’ve got nothing.”

“The team?” Moms asked.

“They’re assaulting Pinnacle.”

Neeley was rummaging in her pack, at a loss on what else to do. “Not on my watch,” she was muttering. “Not on my watch.”

“Ladies.” The Keep’s voice was calm. She showed them the time. 00:59. “We’re inside a minute. The way the system works, once it gets inside a minute, there’s no turning it off. Even if we were in there.”

Inside the PEOC, everyone’s eyes were riveted on the digital clock.

Except for General Riggs. He was looking at the blinking red triangles on the map of the world. The nuclear arsenals of all the other powers — soon to be vaporized, leaving the United States the sole world power.

Riggs stood. “Destiny, gentlemen. We are making history.”

One of the officers pulled out his pistol and shot himself in the head.

Another opened a drawer and held up a bottle of champagne. “A toast!”

Eagle opened the compartment in the nose of the Snake and the 30mm chain gun extended. As he had feared, there was the muzzle flash of a radar-aimed antiaircraft gun letting loose on top of the tower.

As the first rounds hit the armor plating on the front of the Snake, Eagle let loose with his own gun. The depleted uranium rounds were right at home here in the Nevada Test Site. As his windshield splintered but held, Eagle kept his finger on the trigger and blew the gun off its platform.

“Ten seconds, Nada,” Eagle said.

“Wish me luck,” Nada told the rest of the team. Mac, Kirk, Roland, and Doc were holding him upright, near the edge of the ramp. Mac and Kirk each had one hand on Nada and the other on the steel static line cable that ran along the top of the cargo bay up into the tail. It was a good thing they did, as Eagle had to flare hard to stop the forward momentum of the Snake.

Roland was an anchor by himself without the benefit of the steel wire. He had both arms wrapped around Nada’s waist.

Without their grip, Nada would have fallen out with the package.

As it was, the steel cable tore into skin, and blood flowed freely from both Mac and Kirk, but they held fast.

The Snake came to a shivering halt, wings half vertical, Eagle doing a magical juggling act with the controls to keep the edge of the back ramp less than a foot from the walkway that surrounded the top of the Icecap test tower.

“Got it!” Nada yelled and the other three let go of him.

Nada landed with a solid thud, grunting in pain as ribs cracked when the package slammed him down on the metal walkway. “Go, go, go,” he yelled into his mike to Eagle.

Like that was going to work.

Roland was first, because in combat Roland was always first.

Mac and Kirk jumped in unison right behind him, Doc only a brief hesitation behind them. Doc did have four PhDs after all, and that did call for a momentary consideration about doing something stupid.

Still on his belly, ribs broken, the package pressing him down, Nada looked up and saw his four teammates at his side as the engine blast from the Snake washed over them as Eagle took the craft up to a tight hover in overwatch.

“Fuck me to tears,” Nada said, and for the first time in his life, he really meant it.

00:10

“We tried,” Moms said.

00:09

“We failed,” Neeley replied.

00:08

The Keep said nothing, her book held close to her chest.

00:07

00:06

“Trying counts,” Moms said.

00:05

Neeley slumped down, back against the wall.

00:04

“I’m tired of this shit,” Neeley said.

00:03

“Ain’t we all,” Moms said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

00:02

00:01

00:00

Kirk and Mac helped Nada to his feet as Roland pulled the package off his back. Nada accepted the help, readying his MP5 for action. He went to the edge of the platform and peered down into the tower. An ICBM preparing to launch rested on top.

Looking out, they could see three diesel locomotives moving flatcars with ICBMs on them away, about four hundred yards out and the wheels slowly grinding away.

“Time?” Nada asked over the net.

“Four minutes, forty seconds,” Eagle said.

Nada turned to the other three. “Here is as good as anywhere.”

They put the package down and Nada ripped aside the protective covering on the control pad. He had the Standing Operating Procedures for the SADM out, even though he still remembered exactly how to arm it two decades after his last practice run with one.

Moms slid her back down the wall and sat next to Neeley. “It’s easier when you have a team.”

Neeley nodded. “Yeah. Hannah is a friend, but she’s also my boss. Not that any of it matters now.”

“It always matters,” the Keep said. She still had the watch out.

“How long until the first nuke hits target?” Neeley asked.

The Keep shrugged. “It depends on what targeting protocol General Riggs used.”

Inside the PEOC, everyone was watching the large screen. The tracks of missiles launched, both land-based and from boomer submarines at sea, were marked in red arcs. Clumps of yellow indicated strategic bombers heading toward targets.

It was the world war no one had ever really expected to happen.

That reality, along with the effects of Cherry Tree, had squashed the champagne toast within seconds of it being suggested. The military men stared at the screen as if seeing one of the deepest rings of hell.

Except for Riggs. He was still standing and he reached out and grabbed the unopened bottle. He popped the top and tilted it back, taking a big swig.

Then he slammed it down on the conference table.

“Finally,” he muttered as his eyes tracked the weapons on the screen.

Nada had done everything exactly as laid out in the SOP. The W54 nuclear bomb was ready. All he had to do was push the button to arm it. He’d set the timer for the minimum: three minutes. Like that was going to happen.

“Three to one,” Mac said, standing behind Nada and putting a hand on his right shoulder.

“Which way?” Kirk asked. He put a hand on Nada’s left shoulder.

“Instant detonation,” Mac said.

Doc was a spectator, perhaps regretting his decision to leave the Snake.

Perhaps not. “I think I will go with the one.”

“Me too,” Roland said.

“Kirk?” Mac asked.

“One.”

“Well, shoot,” Mac said. “You guys are ganging up on me and someone has to cover the bettor. I’ll take the three then.”

“It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen,” Nada said, then he pushed the button to arm.