Fallout

CHAPTER 40

Sitting in the front seat of the rental car, General Ursov fumed as Craig raced toward the Nevada Test Site. Daylight tried to seep through the stormclouds, but the rain pattered more heavily on the windshield as he drove. The wipers waved back and forth, keeping his view clear.

“How long have you known Ambassador Nevsky was murdered?” Ursov said, blustering. “You deliberately withheld this information from me and my government!”

“Yes, and I apologize. It was unfair to keep that from you.” Craig adjusted his sunglasses, then fumbled in his coat for the cellular phone and laid it on the dash. Goldfarb might be calling him at any minute. “With tomorrow’s summit meeting, we were trying to avoid an international incident — but it was just as important to hide that knowledge from the militia members, so as not to tip our hand in the investigation. If you had known the ambassador was murdered, you would have canceled the remaining disarmament activities, thrown the summit into an uproar, embarrassed both of our presidents.…”

“True,” Ursov said with a dry smile. He spoke in measured tones, as if carefully considering the implications of his question. “So if Nevsky’s killers have stolen a nuclear weapon, why are you taking me back to the Test Site now?”

“Because that’s where I think things are going to happen.”

“You are aware that you are transporting an official of the Russian government to a destination against his will?”

“Personally, I would rather have left you in the Rio parking lot, General — but you insisted,” Craig said without changing his expression and without taking his eyes from the road. He knew Ursov was mostly blowing smoke. The speedometer had passed 95, but he sped onward.

Ursov surprised him by letting his gruff demeanor slip into a smile, then even a little laugh. “It’s been worth the trouble, Agent Kreident. You have already told me more in twenty minutes than I’ve been able to learn in the past three days.” He looked at his thick fingers. “I warn you, though — do not try to leave me behind or ‘ditch me,’ as you say in colloquial English. Even though Nevsky was a drunken ass, I want to help apprehend the criminals responsible.”

Craig drew in his breath. He would deal with that when the time came. “Just make yourself useful, General.”

The cellular phone rang. Ursov looked startled, as if he didn’t know what to do. He handed it to Craig, who used one hand to steer while he spoke. “This is Kreident.”

“Ben Goldfarb here. I finally got someone at DOE to authorize our FBI chopper to come in for you. The pilot’s on his way and should be at the DAF helicopter pad within the next ten minutes. The weather’s getting rough to fly in, but he can make it. Do you need any help up there?”

Craig took the Mercury exit from the highway, racing toward the line of guard kiosks. “We could use some backup at Groom Lake once we cross the boundary. We’re on our way.”

“We? Who’s ‘we?’“

Craig looked over at the alarmed Russian general. “Let’s just say I’ve got all the help I need.”

At the DAF parking lot, Craig managed to identify one of the trucks parked there as Paige’s. He had never been so glad, and then so concerned, to see a pine-scented air freshener before. After checking quickly, he discovered she wasn’t inside the secure facility — but now at least he knew she had come to the DAF sometime the night before. She had to be with her “Uncle Mike.”

Militia member, Mike Waterloo.

Craig dreaded Waterloo had taken her as a hostage — if he hadn’t already killed her, adding another casualty of the Eagle’s Claw bloodbath.

Up in the sky, they heard an approaching helicopter, its chattering engine cutting through the muffled thunder. Craig and Ursov sprinted for the rental car to take them off to the helicopter pad.