NSA Command Center
“How could I have been so stupid?” Branson yelled, but then began to walk away as he continued talking to himself. “But I don’t study this kind of thing. I barely pay any attention to it. It’s the stuff of doomsdayers,” he said as his arms flailed into the air. “That’s not real science. That’s for those guys that just want to get their names splashed across the news, scaring people half to death.”
“Branson?” Bill said. “Hey, you still with us? We’re over here.”
“Oh, sorry. I just have a hard time with thrill-seekers in the geology world.”
Cade erupted. “Spit it out! Branson, whatever you’re thinking, get it on the table.”
“It’s the caldera. I can’t believe I never thought about it before. But you guys were so busy getting me to think about California and the fault line. I never really considered anything else.”
“What caldera?” Bill said.
“Jellystone,” Branson said, hoping to elicit a laugh. “Uh, sorry. Yellowstone. The Yellowstone caldera.”
“Tell us about it,” Bill said. “And don’t assume we know our calderas from our references to The Flintstones.”
“Yes, sir. A caldera is a huge impression or crater left behind when an old volcano collapses. Come to think of it, I’m surprised you don’t know about it. If you guys spend as much time thinking up doomsday scenarios as I think you do, this one should be on your radar. Anyone following me? No? I’m talking about the Russian analyst that splashed himself across the news in March of 2015 by calling for a nuclear attack on the Yellowstone caldera itself. Most people thought he was nuts.”
“And is he nuts?” Knuckles said, probing Branson to go deeper.
“Look, we’ve always known there was an ancient volcano under Yellowstone. Like I said, been dormant for six hundred and forty thousand years. But we didn’t learn until 2013 that the magma chamber was so large. Enormous, in fact. But now that we know, the Yellowstone caldera is listed as one of the largest active continental volcanic fields in the world. When I said that Russian analyst was nuts, I meant that he was believed to be nuts because it was just so much political rhetoric. He’s apparently the kind of guy who thinks Russia should take out the US in one swift stroke. But the science is real. The scientific community agrees that a full-scale eruption of the caldera would devastate the United States.”
Bill looked over the tops of his glasses. “And how do you define ‘devastate’?”
“Let’s be clear here. We’re talking about an eruption that no one feels is eminent. In fact, I think they estimated the probability of eruption on any given day to be something like one chance out of 700,000. But if it were to erupt, it would be one thousand times more powerful than the Mount Saint Helens blast. It would blacken the skies over much of the country. So much ash would fall, it would cause a yearlong winter. The US Geological Survey predicts there would be molten ash ten feet thick for a thousand miles in any direction. Temperatures would drop, for God’s sake.” Branson was speaking fast enough to begin losing his breath. “Air travel would stop, people wouldn’t be able to drive their cars. And think about how heavy ten feet of ash would be. Roofs would collapse, bridges, buildings—” He drew in a deep breath.
“He’s right,” Knuckles said, interrupting Branson. “Remember that eruption in Iceland in 2010? It stopped all air travel.”
“Compared to this, that eruption would look like child’s play. There would be a worldwide food shortage.”
“Wait, wait,” Kyle said. “You said the ash and damage would extend in any direction. Yellowstone is out in Montana, right?”
“Wyoming.”
“So how would western areas in the US be affected by that? The jet stream blows everything east.”
Branson’s arms again flew into the air. “You’re not getting it! This thing would be so huge it would create its own wind. It would disrupt the entire jet stream. There would be two inches of ash in New York City.” His chest heaved. “Oh my God. I don’t feel so good. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Knuckles grabbed him around the waist and guided him into a chair.
“Here, sit down. Hey, Mr. Branson.”
Branson looked at him through bloodshot eyes. “Aren’t you, like, fifteen years old? That’s Doctor Branson to you.”
“Yes, sir. Listen, it’s going to be okay, okay?”
“That certainly makes me feel better,” Branson said as he tried to laugh.
Uncle Bill turned toward the video camera. “Kyle, Cade, I think we’ve got our new target.”
In the hospital room, Agent Murphy stepped forward. “Mr. Tarleton, I’ll get on the horn to my people. We’ll deploy hostage-rescue teams to Yellowstone Park and start combing the area.”
“We’ll send you coordinates of the caldera itself. Hey Branson, how big is the actual opening into the caldera?”
“It’s at least thirty-five miles across. But . . . hmm, let me think about this for a minute. I think there’s a steam vent there though. It’s pretty small, actually. It’s probably not twenty feet across.”
“And does the vent lead straight down? Like a mine shaft?” Bill said.
“Well sure. Where else would it lead?”
He was met with silence.
“Sorry. Yes, it would look something like a misshapen hole twisting straight down. But it’s bright yellow all around the edges. And greenish a little further down. That’s caused by all the sulfur that escapes. It would be very easy to spot the steam vent from the air.”
“Agent Murphy,” Bill yelled, “let’s get moving! We’ve got to locate Jarrah. We find Jarrah, we find Jana and the nuke. I’ll call the president. Cade, Kyle, I can’t tell you what to do. But if you can walk, Jana needs every eye she can get.”
In the hospital room, Kyle looked at Cade. “You up for this, man?”
“Shut up and tell me where my damn jeans are. I hate these stupid hospital gowns.”