The Edge of Armageddon

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

Six minutes.

Drake rushed into the Tropical Zone, shouting until his throat hurt, desperate to get a fix on the bomb. The low cry that answered did not come from Hayden, but he followed it as best he could. Veins pounded all along his forehead. Tension curled his hands into fists. As the entire team entered the building, faced with winding wooden walkways and a tree-lined habitat, they spread out to take advantage of their numbers.

“Fuck!” Kinimaka cried, stress almost destroying him now. “Hayden!”

Another muffled cry. Drake spread his arms in utter frustration, unable to pinpoint the exact location. Seconds ticked by. A brightly colored parrot bombarded them, making Alicia take a step back. Drake couldn’t help but check his watch again.

Five minutes.

The White House would now be exuding such a flood of anxiety it would wash right up Capitol Hill. The approaching NEST team, the bomb squad, the cops and agents and firefighters who were aware, would be either sprinting until their legs gave out or falling to their knees, searching the skies and praying for their lives. If any world leaders had been briefed they too would be on their feet, watching the clock, and preparing a few sentences.

The world held sway.

Drake shuddered in relief on hearing a shout from Mai, then took more seconds finding its source. The team met as one, but what they found confounded all their expectations. Yorgi was standing back alongside Lauren; Beau and Kenzie tried to work it out from afar, and the rest of the team either fell to their knees or crawled alongside the mass.

Drake stared. The first thing he saw was the body of a naked woman, wrapped around with duct tape and blue wire, laying spread-eagled about two meters off the ground. Still baffled he saw that below the soles of her feet stuck another pair of feet, these belonging to a man judging by the hairy legs that were attached to them.

Hayden is the bomb, Ramses had told him.

But… what the hell…

Below the naked man he now saw boots that he recognized. Hayden, it seemed, lay at the bottom of this pile.

Then where the hell is the nuke?

Alicia raised her head from her position next to the unknown female. “Listen up. Zoe says the bomb is strapped underneath Hayden, at the bottom of this peculiarity. It is armed, has a pretty robust motion sensor and is protected by a backpack. The wires wrapped all around their bodies are attached to the bloody trigger.” She shook her head. “I can’t see a way through. This is the time for bright ideas, guys.”

Drake stared at the bodies, the endless trail of wires, all the same blue color. His first reaction was to agree.

“Does it have a collapsing circuit?” Kinimaka asked.

“My best guess is ‘no’,” Dahl said. “That would be too risky, since the people attached to it might shift. The collapsing circuit — an anti-handling device — would detect Hayden’s movement, assume someone would be touching the bomb, and boom.”

“Don’t say that.” Alicia cringed.

Drake fell to his knees close to where he assumed Hayden’s head was. “By the same principal then, the motion detector would be fairly loose. Again, to allow some movement from the captives.”

“Yes.”

His head hurt from tension overload. “We have the deactivation codes,” he said.

“Which could still be fake. And worse, we have to input them on the pad attached to the trigger underneath Hayden.”

“You guys had better hurry,” Kenzie said softly. “We have three minutes left.”

Drake rubbed his scalp furiously. This was no time to entertain doubts. He shared a look with Dahl.

What next, my friend? Have we finally come to the end of the line?

Julian Marsh spoke up. “I saw them arm it,” he said. “I can disarm it. This was never supposed to happen. Money was the only objective… not this millions die, end of the world crap.”

“Webb knew,” Lauren said. “Your boss. He knew all along.”

Marsh only coughed. “Just get me out of here.”

Drake didn’t move. To expose the bomb they would have to turn the human pile. They didn’t have time to snip off all the tape. But there was a faster way to disarm a bomb, always had been. They didn’t show it on TV because it hardly made for edge-of-the-seat viewing.

You didn’t cut the wire. You just pulled them all out.

But that was as risky as cutting the wrong wire. He knelt down so that his eyes were at the same level as Marsh’s.

“Julian. Do you want to die?”

“No!”

“I see no other way,” he breathed. “Guys, let’s move them around.”

Directing the team, he slowly, slowly, turned the body pile until Hayden’s stomach came off the floor and the backpack was revealed. Groans escaped from Zoe and Marsh and even Hayden as they all rolled on to their sides, and Kinimaka urged all of them to remain still. Despite Zoe’s claims no one knew how sensitive the motion detector actually was, although it seemed clear if it had lasted this long it wasn’t set on anything near a hair-trigger. Indeed, it had to have been programmed to be all but impervious to ensure Drake would arrive before it exploded.

It was necessary to unloop the wires from Marsh’s body and pick them from Zoe’s extremities, a dirty job but one the team barely noticed. The ones wrapped around Hayden’s frame came away easily, as they were hampered by her clothing. Now, under direction, and still held with duct tape, Marsh brought his hands up so that they passed around Hayden’s right side and hovered over the backpack. The Pythian flexed his fingers.

“Pins and needles.”

Mai placed her hands on the backpack, over the nuclear bomb. With deft fingers she undid the buckles and pulled the top flap away. Then, utilizing great and dexterous strength, she held the sides of the backpack and slid the bomb with its metal casing right out.

A black casing surrounded it. Mai threw the pack away and rotated the bomb very slowly, sweating now as the seconds ticked down. Hayden’s eyes were bright as she stared at the bomb, and Kinimaka was already kneeling at her side, clutching a hand.

The countdown panel came into view, attached by four screws to the outside of the bomb. Blue wires snaked under it and into the heart of utter disaster. Marsh stared at the wires, four of them, tangled and wrapped together.

“Take the panel off. I need to see which one is which.”

Drake bit his tongue as he eyed his watch.

Seconds left now.

Fifty nine, fifty eight…

Smyth fell to his knees beside them, the soldier already with his utility blade out. Taking everyone’s life into his hands he took the responsibility of removing the screws. One scrape, one stubborn thread, one lack of concentration and they would either lose time or cause a terrifying detonation. Drake closed his eyes for a moment as the man worked. Behind him, Dahl breathed heavily and even Kenzie fidgeted.

As Smyth worked on the last screw, Alicia suddenly screamed. The entire group jolted, hearts in their mouths.

Drake whirled around. “What is it?”

“A snake! I saw a snake! Big yellow bastard it was.”

Smyth growled angrily as he held up the plate and carefully removed the countdown panel with its flashing red clock face. “Which wire?”

They were down to thirty seven seconds.

Marsh crawled closer, eyes searching through the interwoven tangle of blue wires, seeking the point where he remembered seeing Gator arm the device.

“I don’t see it! I don’t fucking see it!”

“That’s it,” Drake threw him aside. “I’m pulling all the wires!”

“No,” Dahl landed heavily at his side. “If you do that this bomb will explode.”

“Then what do we do, Torsten? What do we do?”

Twenty nine… twenty eight… twenty seven…