Munoz drove the van at high speed along the A20 motorway on the way to the Calais ferry to get to France. Cafferty sat by his side, trying the White House yet again. He needed to alert the president and deputy prime minister of the thermonuclear bomb under London.
Thunder rumbled in the angry morning sky, and rain battered the windshield. The screeching sound of the wiper blades went straight through him, though it was only a mild discomfort in the grand scheme of things. He stared straight ahead at raindrops dancing off the saturated road surface.
In a matter of hours, Cafferty potentially faced his long-awaited first and likely final dance with Albert Van Ness. As dramatic as the idea appeared in his mind—the two of them opposite each other, with only one of them surviving—the lives of millions depended on his success, including his wife.
The Foundation kidnapping Ellen had left his reasoning scrambled and his pulse rate at the speed of a drum roll, but he told himself she wasn’t his number one priority—stopping that bomb was.
Or am I kidding myself?
Van Ness has made this personal.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Munoz asked.
“Nothing good.”
“Ellen?” Munoz replied softly. “I get it, Tom, but remember we’re also facing a big mushroom cloud over London.”
Cafferty nodded in acknowledgment. Both scenarios to him spelled a nightmare. He appreciated Munoz’s empathy, though he understood deep down that millions took precedence over one. It was a hard pill to swallow, and he hoped it would not come to that.
The countdown timer on the nuclear bomb beneath Euston Station flashed through Cafferty’s mind. He glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard—they had a little under thirteen hours until midnight.
They had to get today right, against near impossible odds. If they didn’t . . . the crushing thought nearly consumed him.
It didn’t help that they had no clear plan on how to get to Van Ness. Bowcut had done reconnaissance on the Foundation’s building in Paris, but the place was essentially a fortress. But perhaps it would be as easy as walking in the front door. The business card left in the van was clearly an invitation for Cafferty to pay Van Ness a visit. He knew he was being baited, but what choice did he have?
This entire operation was a gamble, pure and simple. In fact, this whole endeavor had always been one. They were just four (three) people with limited resources against a shadowy, multinational entity that had the upper hand in nearly every category: numbers, technology, money, and intelligence about the creatures. It was more than just a gamble, then—it was a long shot. One in which almost every outcome for Cafferty and his team meant their deaths . . . and the deaths of millions of others in London tonight, and perhaps millions more across the globe in subsequent days.
Even knowing all that, though—or, perhaps, because they knew that—no one in this van would have considered any other course of action. Their lives compared with several million didn’t need much time for deliberation. They had placed their chips on the table, and the wheel was going to spin however it spun.
But that didn’t mean they were going to just let the house take their money.
“Are the lasers charging?” Cafferty asked Bowcut in the back.
“We’ll be ready, Tom.”
“Get me in the room and I’ll waterboard a Foundation bitch if I got to,” Munoz insisted, half kidding.
Cafferty couldn’t help but smile, knowing that despite Diego’s words and violent past, he’d never stoop to the level of torture. The Brownsville man had more class and integrity than anyone Tom had ever met. More, the engineer’s penchant for optimism made him an invaluable member of the team. Even now, as they sped toward an impossible—and potentially deadly—situation, the fact that Munoz could crack jokes meant that hope wasn’t completely lost.
I only wish that Ellen could hear them and draw the same hope from Munoz’s quips that I am.
Cafferty’s phone rang in his hand, pulling him from the dark path those thoughts were about to lead him down.
“It’s the White House,” he said, surprised.
“Wasn’t it just you trying to call them?” Bowcut asked.
Cafferty threw her an uncertain look, even as he put the phone on speaker and answered. “This is Cafferty.”
“Tom, this is President Brogan. I’m here with Jim Swain, the director of national intelligence.”
“Hello, Madam President. My team is listening in as well. I’ve tried to reach you.”
“Tom, we need you and your team to get to Paris immediately.”
Cafferty shot a confused look at Bowcut and Munoz. “Madam President—we’re on our way there now.”
“You are?”
“Yes, Van Ness kidnapped my wife. I’m going after her.”
“My God, I’m sorry.”
“Madam President, there’s . . . more,” Cafferty said, stumbling with his words. “Van Ness has planted a thermonuclear bomb underneath London.”
“What? Jesus . . .”
“It detonates at midnight tonight, Greenwich Mean Time. There’s no way to stop the bomb unless we get to Van Ness’ detonators, which we’re hoping he has in Paris. We’ll get there.”
“We must tell the deputy prime minister immediately. There could be more bombs.”
“More bombs?” Bowcut said.
“Van Ness has threatened to kill millions of Americans if we don’t cooperate. We thought he might be bluffing, but now . . .”
“We told you to take him seriously. We told you the Foundation wasn’t a group to mess with. God, we told—”
“I know, Tom,” the president said in a resigned voice, cutting off Cafferty’s tirade of mounting frustration, just as Bowcut was putting her hand on his arm to calm him down. He took a shuddering breath, listening as Brogan continued.
“You were right, and you can’t believe how terrible it feels to sit in this seat, knowing we might have prevented this. But,” she said, more resolute than before, “that doesn’t mean we’re done fighting. While we have special forces moving into Paris, they’ll arrive too late. I hate to put this on your shoulders, but you need to do whatever it takes to stop Albert Van Ness. We will support you however we can. If we don’t hear from you before midnight, we’ll be forced to take overwhelming action. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Madam President.”
“One other thing. President Reynolds is still alive. Van Ness is using him as a pawn to get what he wants. If you find out his location, you must let us know.”
Cafferty was caught off guard by this new information. He looked at Bowcut, who he was certain mirrored what must have been his own look of surprise. What was Van Ness’ end game? Was this all part of his plan?
“I understand, Madam President. That bomb under London can be detonated at any time. If the deputy prime minister evacuates London, there is a possibility that Van Ness might set the bomb off prematurely.”
“Understood. That might be a risk we have to take.”
“Madam President, is there any kind of intel or support you can give us? We’re flying a bit blind at the moment, and Van Ness is expecting us. I’d like to gain the upper hand in some way.”
“Tom, this is Jim Swain. We might have something that can help your team out.”
Cafferty and Bowcut locked eyes with each other, inquisitive. “We’re listening.”
“Now, this is highly classified. A reminder that it is top secret.”
Bowcut snorted.
“Did you say something?”
“With all due respect, sir,” Bowcut said, “with all the shit going down, you can shove your top secret up your ass.”
There was silence on the White House end for a moment. Then President Brogan said, “Jim, just tell them what we know. We’ll worry about national security after we’re sure we still have a nation left to secure.”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry. So, the thing is we’ve cracked the Foundation’s firewall and encryption to gain access to their computers.”
Incredulous, Diego chimed in. “How? I’ve been working on cracking that for over a year—their systems are literally impenetrable.”
“I’m sure you’re very good at what you do, Mr. Munoz, but we have access to some toys you wouldn’t believe. In this case, we used a quantum computer to crack the encryption.”
Swain was right—Diego couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But quantum computers are barely in their infancy—they’re more a myth than an actuality. Even if they did exist, there’s no way they could crack into anything in their current form,” Diego replied.
Munoz knew a lot about the subject. In theory, quantum computers could crunch numbers a hundred million times faster than a traditional computer, easily cracking the most advanced encryption available. The technology would literally change the world . . . in about a decade, which was how long it would take to build a working quantum computer.
To everyone’s surprise in the van, Swain chuckled.
“I’m glad some things are still classified. I assure you, though, that our quantum computer is not an infant. We will transmit to your team the details of how to gain access to the Foundation’s computers. Once inside, you’ll find details and schematics of their Paris headquarters that should help in your mission.”
“Thank you,” Cafferty said.
Bowcut looked up suddenly. “With your fancy computer, can you access their remote detonator? Turn it off?”
“Honestly? I doubt we’ll have the time. If there is such a device, it’s been kept separate, probably for this exact reason.”
“Damn.” She looked at Tom, shrugging. “Worth a shot.”
He nodded.
“One last thing, Tom.”
“Yes, Madam President.”
“Go save your wife. And make that asshole pay.”
He was processing all the new information when she said that, but in the back of his mind, those exact thoughts were ever present. He was going to save Ellen.
And Van Ness was going to pay.
With his life.