Scarecrow Returns

DRAGON ISLAND,” the CIA man said, “was indeed one of the crazy outliers of the Cold War.

“Let’s not be delicate about it. What the Soviets did there was seriously fucked up. It was cutting-edge science, with no boundaries, ethical or other-wise—at Dragon, Russia’s best physicists were allowed to work with the most exotic and dangerous substances known to man, including those Venus samples you mentioned, all to create new forms of death. Dragon Island was the crown jewel of the Soviet Army’s Special Weapons Directorate. Its scientists not only pushed the envelope, occasionally they broke through it. Dragon was their Area 51, Los Alamos and Plum Island all rolled into one.

“But when the USSR collapsed in 1991, Dragon Island’s program was terminated. Only thing was, the stuff they built there was so exotic, destroying it raised more questions than answers. And so the Russkies have just been sending skeleton crews there ever since, just keeping the lights on, so to speak, making sure stable solids don’t become unstable liquids and that compounds meant to be stored at absolute zero stay at absolute zero. Put simply, Dragon Island still is a house of horrors.”

He turned to the President. “And it is my unfortunate duty to report to you, sir, that the Russians did in fact build a Tesla Device and it is kept at Dragon.

“They called it the ‘Atmospheric Weapon’ and it is a two-stage device: the first stage is the combustible gas which is belched up into the atmosphere via a pair of massive vents on Dragon; the second stage is the explosive catalyst that ignites the gas. This catalyst is basically a quasi-nuclear explosive composed of a spherical inner core of corrupted uranium-238—so-called ‘blood uranium’ or ‘red uranium,’ because of its deep maroon color. Red uranium is not as potent or as radioactive as yellowcake, but its corrupted atomic structure makes it react with TEB far more intensely than a regular thermonuclear blast would; indeed, a regular nuke wouldn’t set off such a gas cloud.

“A red-uranium sphere is small, roughly the size of a golf ball. You encase one in a standard beryllium bridge-wire implosive detonator—the kind you find inside a regular nuclear weapon—and then fire the whole unit by missile into the gas cloud. The subsequent blast is hot enough to light the gas and set off the incineration—a rolling chain-reaction of white-hot acid-fire follows, sweeping around the northern hemisphere, igniting the atmosphere itself. It’s like lighting gasoline with a match, only this creates a firestorm of global proportions.”

The President shook his head in disbelief. “Who builds something like this? If it destroys the northern hemisphere, it destroys them, too.”

“In fact, sir, that’s exactly why it was built,” DIA Deputy Director Gordon said. “A device like this is called a ‘scorched earth’ weapon: it’s the weapon you use when you’ve lost a war. When the Germans saw that they’d lost World War II, they retreated, burning farms as they went, scorching the earth. The idea was that if they were going to lose the war, then the victors would not gain anything by winning it.

“The Soviet atmospheric weapon is similar: in the event of the United States disabling or destroying their stockpile of ICBMs in some kind of hostile exchange, the Soviets, facing certain defeat, would set off the atmospheric weapon, leaving nothing behind but scorched earth for the victors.”

“Only this weapon doesn’t just scorch their country, it wipes out the entire upper half of the Earth,” the President said.

“That’s correct, sir,” Gordon said. “Mr. President. If someone has taken Dragon Island and initiated its Tesla Device, then, yes, we have a problem, but it appears we’ve caught it in time. Whoever is at Dragon Island would need to have spewed the combustible aerosol into the atmosphere for weeks for the weapon to be in any way effective.”

Relief fell over the Situation Room.

The NRO man, Bowling, however, swallowed deeply.

“Then you don’t want to see this.” He hit a key on his laptop that projected a new image onto the screen. “This image was taken four weeks ago:

“And this one, two weeks ago:

“And this last image was taken forty-five minutes ago, after we caught Mr. Ivanov’s distress signal:”

“Holy shit . . .” someone breathed.

“Jesus Christ . . .”

The murky cloud had swept around the entire northern hemisphere in an ugly elongated spiral, blanketing every major landmass in the top half of the world. It looked like an oil slick that had stained the planet, only this was in the atmosphere. The image of the befouled Earth loomed in front of the shocked faces of the Crisis Response Team.

“Whoever took Dragon Island has been belching out combustible gas for nearly six weeks,” Bowling said. “They sent it up into the jet stream and the jet stream did the rest. The entire northern hemisphere is now covered by this gas cloud.”

At that moment, a young assistant ran into the room and handed a transcript to the DIA deputy director, Gordon.

The deputy director read it, then looked up sharply. “Mr. President. This is from our Russian MASINT station. It just intercepted an emergency transmission from the head of the Russian Special Weapons Directorate in Sarov to the Russian President in Moscow. It reads:

“SIR,

DRAGON ISLAND TAKEN BY AN UNKNOWN FORCE.

SATELLITE ANALYSIS HAS REVEALED THAT ATMOSPHERIC GAS DISPERSION FROM DRAGON HAS BEEN ACTIVATED FOR SOME TIME, PERHAPS AS LONG AS 41 DAYS.

REMOTE ANALYSIS HAS CONFIRMED THAT SIX URANIUM SPHERES AT DRAGON ARE BEING PRIMED FOR IMMINENT USE. PRIMING TAKES APPROXIMATELY TWELVE HOURS AND IT APPEARS THAT PRIMING BEGAN SEVEN HOURS AGO.

WE HAVE FIVE HOURS TO STOP THIS UNKNOWN FORCE INITIATING THE ATMOSPHERIC WEAPON.”

Gordon put down the transcript.

Silence gripped the room.

The President looked at a wall clock. It was now 5 P.M., or 6 A.M. at Dragon. “Are you telling me that in five hours an unknown force is going to set off some kind of superweapon that will ignite the atmosphere of the northern hemisphere?”

“That’s correct, sir,” Gordon said. “We have five hours to save the world.”

The President stood up. “Get the Russian President on the phone right now—”

The door to the Situation Room was flung open.

A young Air Force major charged in. “Mr. President! The Russians just launched an ICBM from Omsk in Siberia! It’s bearing down on a target in the Arctic Ocean, a remote island base. They’re firing a nuclear missile at one of their own islands!”