Zero Hour

FORTY-EIGHT

Dirk Pitt’s message to Jim Culver stirred up a hornet’s nest of activity. Within ten minutes, a briefing was under way in the White House Situation Room. Culver was there, along with the President, Vice President Sandecker, and several ranking members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. A cadre of advisers and aides backed them up, while Pitt and Yaeger watched the proceedings on a flat screen, patched in via a secure video link.

A brief set of remarks gave way to the prime question: With time almost up, could anything be done to stop Thero?

To that end, the only voice of importance was a rear admiral whose operational title was COMSUBLANT, an acronym that meant he was the Commander of U.S. Submarine Forces in the Atlantic.

Even though Heard Island was a long way from the Atlantic, the admiral was also in charge of the submarines currently assigned to the Persian Gulf and the Indian Ocean. These were the closest vessels to what was now considered the target zone: Heard Island.

“… the Tomahawk missiles these ships carry have an extended range capability,” he said in answer to a question from the President, “putting both the Albany and the New Mexico within range of Heard Island, but just barely.”

“So what’s the problem?” Culver asked.

“The time frame. The Tomahawk is a subsonic weapon.”

“Meaning?”

The admiral sighed. “Time from launch until impact is over three hours. According to the timetable you’ve given us, we have less than ninety minutes until this man acts.”

The room went silent. All of them knew what that meant.

“How could this happen?” Culver asked aggressively. “We ordered vessels to begin moving into position two days ago.”

“The navy reacted as soon as we were directed to,” the admiral said. “But Heard Island is one of the most remote spots on the face of the Earth, and we don’t spend a great deal of time patrolling the bottom of the world. The USS Albany was the closest operational vessel at the time and it was over four thousand miles away.”

An aide rushed into the room and handed Culver a note.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Culver said. “Our early warning network has picked up a neutrino wave in the southern hemisphere. We don’t have a location, but I’m pretty sure we can guess where it’s coming from.”

“So Thero isn’t going to give us ninety minutes,” the President said. “Talk about jumping the gun.”

VP Sandecker spoke next. “We’d better inform the Australian prime minister. Tell him doomsday is coming early.”

Pitt watched the proceedings stoically until the buzz of his intercom interrupted. It was Ms. Conry from communications.

“I have an incoming radio call for you, Dirk.”

Pitt pressed the talk button. “Now is not a good time.”

“It’s Kurt Austin,” she replied. “He’s calling on a shortwave band. The signal is very weak.”

“Put him through,” Pitt said without hesitation.

A distorted squeal of static and shortwave frequency interference came through the line seconds later.

“Kurt?” Pitt asked. “Can you hear me?”

More static, and then finally Kurt’s voice.

“Barely,” he said. “We’re on Heard Island. We found Thero’s base of operations. It’s underground. Near the front of the Winston Glacier.”

“We know,” Pitt said. “Hiram managed to figure out your signal and Paul and Gamay bluffed the MV Rama into surrendering. What’s your situation?”

The sound wavered again, punctuated by bursts of interference. “We’ve managed to start a small uprising and we’ve taken over half the station, but Thero and his men have walled themselves off on a higher level. We can’t get to them.”

“The NSA sensor grid is picking up neutrino emissions,” Pitt said. “We believe Thero is charging his weapon now. Can you confirm that?”

“Not exactly, but it would explain the lighting issues we’ve been having,” Kurt said. “You’re going to have to hit this place hard to knock it out. We’re at least a hundred feet below the surface.”

“We can’t get any ordinance on-site in time,” Pitt said. “You’re going to have to stop it from there.”

The silence and distortion returned.

“Kurt? Do you read me?”

“Loud and clear,” Kurt said. “I’ll see what we can do.”

The static ended abruptly as Kurt cut the line.

Silence pervaded the radio room on Heard Island.

“No help coming,” Kurt said. “It’s up to us.”

“So what’s the plan?” Joe asked.

Kurt looked at Gregorovich. “Any idea what happened to that box of fireworks you brought from Moscow?”

“Thero’s people took it with Hayley.”

“Then we’d better get to that control room,” Kurt said.

The lights dimmed, and a slight shudder went through the room as the first energy wave from Thero’s weapon surged through the cavern. Kurt glanced up as dust drifted down on them from above.

“Is that what I think it is?” Joe said.

Kurt nodded. “According to Dirk, the show’s starting early.” He turned to the prisoners. “Is there any other way up to the top level?”

Masinga spoke first. “When we began to dig the mine, there was a vertical shaft. It was sealed off as soon as we began tunneling sideways into the kimberlite. You might be able to circumvent Thero’s defenses if you use it.”

“Can you find it?”

Masinga nodded. “I think so.”

“Let’s go.”

Two minutes later, they were down the tunnel, prying a metal plate from a section of the wall. Once they’d pulled it aside, Kurt stuck his head in.

He looked up. A sixty-foot climb to the top. “Could use that rocket-propelled harpoon of yours right now, Joe.”

“Better go search the lost and found, then,” Joe said.

“No time. We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

Kurt glanced down. The shaft dropped another hundred feet or so. Kurt could swear he smelled the ocean. He turned to Devlin. “I think I know where you’ll find that ship of yours.”

Devlin nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Gather up the prisoners. Get them down there.”

Devlin nodded. Masinga did the same. “Once we’ve taken it over, we’ll wait for you.”

“Don’t bother,” Kurt insisted. “Just head for the sea.”

Devlin stared at Kurt for a moment, offered him a salute, and then he and Masinga went back to round up the other prisoners.

“You should really go with them,” Kurt said to Joe.

“Sorry,” Joe said. “Our last cruise made me seasick. Bad navigation. Poor accommodations. And don’t get me started on the food. It was just awful. They should really put a health inspector aboard that vessel.”

Kurt laughed. He should have known better than to try benching his friend at this point in the proceedings. He turned to Gregorovich. “Ready for one last gambit?”

“Ready to end this game,” Gregorovich said. “Once and for all.”