Memorial Day

Forty-One

"Paul," said Hanousek as the yard tractor rumbled past. She couldn't hear her boss's reply, so she waited a few seconds and said, "We're about to start."

"What's the status?" asked Reimer who was still holed up at the Department of Energy's facility in Germantown, Maryland.

Hanousek walked into the warehouse as the big cargo doors began closing behind her. "The container was just off-loaded and brought into a Customs warehouse." She continued walking through the cavernous space to where her team was setting up their equipment.

Clasps were being popped, cases opened, and equipment unloaded. Hanousek's team had been together almost two years. The many drills, false alarms, and random searches had made this activity routine. Never in those two years, though, had they been given such specific information. They all understood, without saying it, that this one was different. All of Washington had its eyes on them right now, and she could tell by watching her people set up that they were a little tense.

As she neared her team, one of the techs tossed her a headset to plug into her secure satellite phone. Hanousek caught it with one hand and looped the tiny device over her left ear. After she plugged it into the phone she adjusted the lip mike and clipped the sat phone to her belt.

"We're setting up the secure satcom right now and should have a preliminary reading for you in..." Hanousek checked on one of her techs who was donning a backpack that contained a sensitive gamma neutron detector, "about sixty seconds."

Her other five people were busy setting up laptops, unwinding cables, checking on secure com links, and powering up other vital equipment.

"Harry, are you ready to go?" she asked the tech wearing the backpack.

The man fumbled with an earpiece that protruded from the backpack. A moment later he had it in place and flashed her a thumbs-up sign.

Hanousek watched him begin walking the length of the metal box. "Here comes the moment of truth," she told Reimer as the tech slowly marched toward her. At the midway point the man looked over at her and raised a concerned eyebrow.

Hanousek stopped breathing for a second. The tech made it to the end of the forty-foot container and started back. At the midway point he stopped again and listened to his earpiece. After a few excruciating seconds he turned toward his boss.

"I have a gamma nine, a neutron five hit."

Hanousek waved him toward her and repeated the reading to Reimer back in Washington. The news was met with a groan from the former SEAL. She helped the tech take the backpack off and said, "You know what to do."

The man broke off in a near sprint toward the far end of the warehouse where one of the other techs had already placed the High Purity Germanium Detector (HPGD) so it could begin its background count at a safe distance from the container.

"Debbie," said Reimer over her earpiece, "What do you think about suiting up?"

"It's probably a good idea."

Hanousek strode over to one of the black travel cases and popped the two clasps. "All right, everyone, let's get our Anti C's on."

Normally there would have been a collective groan upon being told that they had to don their anticontaminant clothing, but not this morning. One by one the team members got into the suits; put on their gloves, boots, and helmets; and duct-taped the seams. By the time Hanousek was done, one of the techs came back with the HPGD in a black computer bag. He handed the device to her and she carefully placed it near the hotspot. Kneeling down she checked to make sure the Palm Pilot controlling the device was recording and relaying the information.

Nuclear scientists from Lawrence Livermore, Sandia, and Los Alamos national laboratories were at this very moment sitting down in front of secure terminals to analyze the gamma spectral data that the HPGD was collecting. The scientists made up what the DOE referred to as the "Home Team."

Hanousek got up and walked back to where her team was set up. Her protective suit was already hot and uncomfortable, but at the moment she was more interested in the information that was being relayed to the two laptop computers. It would take a full fifteen minutes for the HPGD to get a thorough read on what was inside the trailer.

As the minutes began to tick by, Hanousek stood behind the team's chief scientist and watched the data pour in. Halfway through the process, things were not looking good. The Home Team was a hell of a lot smarter than she was, but even Hanousek could tell, based on what she'd seen so far that they were in big trouble.

"Paul, are you there?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Affirmative. I don't understand it, but I'm listening to the Home Team discuss it."

"And?"

"I don't think I've ever heard thebrainiacs sound this excited."

Hanousek peered through the Plexiglas face mask on her helmet and read the data. "Based on what I'm seeing I think it might be a good idea if we got ready to X-ray this thing."

"I concur. Just keep it low-energy okay?"

"You don't need to tell me," Hanousek laughed nervously. "I'm standing next to the damn thing."

"Sorry." Reimer meant it. If he could change places with her, he'd do it in a second.

"Paul," said Hanousek, "you guys got anybody on their way down here to take care of this thing, or do you expect us to do it?"

"Green is taking off from Bragg as we speak." Reimer was referring to Delta Force's WMD disposal team.

Hanousek relaxed a bit at the news that she would not be expected to defuse and dispose of the bomb if it was active. "All right, I'm going to get ready to X-ray this bad boy."

"Hold on a second, Debbie."

Hanousek could hear Reimer talking to someone else. After about ten seconds he came back on the line. "Debbie, the brain trust is in agreement that we have special nuclear material."

Even though Hanousek knew it was heading in this direction, the news still gave her pause. The faces of her three children and husband flashed before her. A second later she regained her composure and asked, "Is there enough mass to create a yield?"

"Yes."

Hanousek's mouth went bone dry. "How big?"

"Twenty KT."

Twenty kilotons. "Holy shit." Hanousek thought of the explosive force. If this thing went off, the crater alone would be close to a half a mile in diameter.

"Holy shit is right. Listen, Debbie, I have to deliver the good news to the president. Get me an X-ray. I'll be back on the line shortly."

"Roger." Hanousek muted the headset and told the team to get the main portable X-ray machine ready. While everyone else went about their work, she was left standing there staring at the large red steel container. The thought occurred to her, not for the first time, but with new poignancy, that she was severely underpaid.