67

Kurt’s phone went off with the special ring. He rolled over in his bed and checked the time: two in the morning. Which meant it wasn’t good news.

He shook the sleep out of his head and answered, saying, “Colonel Hale.”

The duty officer for the Taskforce said, “Sir, we have an issue. Knuckles was successful, and he’s conducted an interrogation. It’s not good.”

“What is it?”

“I really think you need to speak to him directly.”

“Be there in ten. Tell him to stand by.”

He threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, racing out of his high-rise next to the Clarendon Metro stop. He could have driven, but it would be just as quick to run the two blocks to Taskforce headquarters.

He entered through the underground parking garage, breathing more heavily than he wanted and thinking he needed to get back to the gym. He badged in to the elevator and exited on the third floor, seeing George Wolffe.

He said, “How on earth did you beat me here?”

George laughed and said, “I was still here fighting the bureaucracy, doing the stuff you don’t have to worry about. Knuckles called jackpot, so I decided to wait and see what happened.”

They walked down the hall to the command center, Kurt saying, “And what’s he got?”

“Your call was good to go. He’s got a Moroccan who planted a bomb on a boat from Algeciras. It’s headed into Los Angeles as we speak.”

They entered the command center and Kurt said, “Bring it up on the main screen.”

The communications man said, “He’s inbound right now on the rendition bird, so it may be choppy.”

Kurt nodded, waiting. Eventually, the screen cleared, and Kurt saw Carly Ramirez. He said, “Carly, what’s up? What do you have?”

“Sir, the guy has planted a bomb on a container ship headed to Los Angeles. He’s working with the same cell. Jalal al-Khattabi—the guy we were chasing in Fez—helped him break security. It’s the same crew, and it’s planted on a boat called the Al Salam II.

“Where’s the boat now?”

“The Taskforce is working that now, but that’s not the biggest problem. The bomb has a cylinder of cobalt 60 inside. That’s a radioactive material used for cancer treatment and food irradiation. It’s deadly, and if it’s exploded out, it will render the port inoperative.”

Kurt held up a finger and turned away from the screen, saying, “Get me a CBRN guy, right now.”

Two minutes later, George picked up the phone and said, “I got our CBRN officer on the line. Go easy. He thinks he’s been awakened because it’s the end of the world.”

Kurt said, “It might be. Put him on speaker.”

George punched a button, then nodded. Kurt said, “Hey, I don’t have a lot of time here. You’re the expert on chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear events?”

He heard a nervous voice. “Yes, sir. I’m branched chemical in the Army. I have a degree—”

“Sorry. I don’t give a shit. What I want to know is what the damage would be with a dirty bomb on a boat.”

Now on firmer ground, the man said, “Well, that would depend on a ton of different variables. Wind speed, size of the explosive charge, how much radioactive material was involved, and blocking forces such as woods or mountains. If it were a bomb like Oklahoma City, it could do serious damage, spreading radiation over a vast distance. I’d have to know more than just ‘dirty bomb.’”

“Say there was a bomb inside a CONEX on a boat, and it was laced with cobalt 60.”

Kurt heard nothing, and waited. Eventually, the man said, “Cobalt 60 is pretty dangerous. We used to prepare for the ‘doomsday bomb’ back in the Cold War, when the old USSR talked about lacing their bombs with it. In a worldwide thermonuclear war, its half-life would render the entire earth uninhabitable. Hydrogen and neutron bombs were devastating, but they were designed to kill quickly, allowing the reclamation of the terrain. Their effects could be overcome. The fallout from a cobalt bomb would literally destroy the earth.”

Kurt said, “I’m not talking about global thermonuclear war. What could happen with the scenario I’m giving?”

“If the cobalt was seeded into the explosives, it would depend on how big the explosive charge was. It’s directly proportional to how far the explosive power could project the cobalt.”

“Say half a CONEX. Say they had something the size of a Volkswagen Bug. What’s the damage?”

“The explosion would be minimal. Not enough to even worry about as far as loss of life is concerned, but the spread of the cobalt would render everything in at least a quarter-mile radius as deadly. Of course, I say that assuming there aren’t any weather vulnerabilities.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The cobalt will be thrown out from the explosion, so anything near that site would be deadly, but from then, it would depend on the atmosphere. If the cloud of radiation were spread by favorable winds, it could render an entire city uninhabitable.”

“That bad?”

“Yes. Cobalt 60 was known as the doomsday bomb for a reason. It’s that bad.”

Taking that in, remaining calm, Kurt said, “Thank you.”

George hung up the phone, and Kurt turned back to the screen. “Carly, you know for a fact he’s telling the truth? The guy isn’t just making shit up?”

“Sir, if he is, he’s doing it with a healthy knowledge of cobalt 60. If it’s fake, he’s studied how to make it real. I think he’s telling the truth.”

Knuckles appeared from the back of the aircraft, crowding into the screen. He said, “You get the word, sir? This is no shit.”

Kurt said, “I did, and I need your assessment. Is he telling the truth, or is he just playing you to get us to overreact?”

Knuckles looked at Carly, confused that Kurt was repeating the question. He said, “He’s telling the truth. Carly’s pretty good at interrogation, and she bled him dry. It’s real, and it’s on the way.”

An analyst ran into the room and said, “Who asked for the itinerary of the Al Salam cargo ship?”

George said, “Here. Give it to me.”

He looked at it, then said, “This stopped in Panama two days ago. Where’s the end result?”

“Sir, apparently the ship’s captain decided the new locks were unsafe. He transloaded his shipment by rail to several smaller feeder ships.”

Kurt turned to the analyst, saying, “How many different ships? Who’s got the cargo now?”

“Sir, there’s no way to tell. The rail line drops it at the Balboa port, and it’s like a standby thing. It wasn’t planned, because the original ship was supposed to travel all the way through, so now those containers have been loaded wherever there’s room.”

“Jesus Christ, are you kidding me? We can’t track the shipment?”

“We could with the actual container. It’s sealed and has a manifest, but without knowing which one it is, it could be on any number of ships.”

Kurt looked back at the screen and said, “Ask him what container it’s in. Ask him to identify the container by company or however that works.”

Knuckles flicked his head at Carly, and she disappeared from the screen, going back to the seat where the terrorist was chained.

Kurt said, “Get me Alexander Palmer on the phone.”

George went to the back of the room, picking up a secure line. He began dialing, saying, “You know this is going to take a while.”

“Meaning?”

“Get Hannister. Fuck working through the minions.”

“I’m not there yet. Give Palmer a warning order, and let’s keep working the problem.”

Carly came back on the screen, saying, “He doesn’t know the specific CONEX. He can name the shipper, but he says the firm shipped forty containers. He could identify the original one, but he wrecked it to introduce the cobalt, forcing them to manually transload from the bad container to a new one. He doesn’t know the seal number on the new container. All he can really give us is the ship.”

“Are you sure?”

Truculent, Carly said, “Yes, sir. I’m sure. This isn’t my first rodeo. He did say the bomb is triggered by cell phone.”

“Meaning there’s someone that has to call it?”

“Yes.”

“Does he have the number?”

“No. Only Jalal had that, the guy we missed in Fez.”

George Wolffe said, “That’s not a lot of help. If they can track the package, they can call from anywhere in the world.”

Kurt nodded, saying, “It’s some help. It gives us a way to prevent it.”

George said, “How? Are you going to shut down the cell network of Los Angeles and the California coast for the next month? You know that ain’t happening.”

Kurt absorbed the enormity of what they were facing. He said, “Okay, okay. We’re in crisis mode. Knuckles, get him back here to DC. Usual spot at Dulles.”

“On the way. What’s Pike doing?”

“He’s here, begging to go to Norfolk, but I’m running up against the charter on this. I can’t allow the Taskforce to operate on US soil. Anyway, I think that’s a waste of time now. We finally got some clarity on the bank account, and it was tied to a credit card used at a water-sports shop at Virginia Beach. The FBI investigated and it checked out. The place exists, and has been there for years. It even has an outlet with MWR on Fort Lee. It wasn’t terrorist related. We have one more purchase, but it’s in Richmond, Virginia, hell and gone from Norfolk. Pike’s sure he’s on to something, but I’m thinking Norfolk was the miss, and it’s LA.”

Knuckles said, “If we’re not doing anything anyway, can we head down there?”

Kurt said, “Why?”

“You know, take a few days off at Virginia Beach. Not as Taskforce. Just to take some leave before summer’s totally gone.”

Kurt smiled, knowing what he was asking. He said, “Who do you want to take? Does the entire team want a vacation? It’ll be hard to sell that.”

“How about just me and Carly, and Pike and Jennifer? Could you sell that?”

Kurt nodded, saying, “Yeah. That’s plausible. Just don’t get in any trouble. If you happen to stumble across anything, you back off immediately and feed it to me. Understood?”

“Roger that, sir. See you in a couple of hours.”

George shouted from across the room, “I’ve got Palmer on the line.”

Kurt picked it up, saying, “Sir, I have the attack, and it’s not Norfolk. I need to speak to the president.”

He heard, “What do you have?”

“It’s Los Angeles, and it’s on the way. I don’t have time for a discussion. I need to talk to the president. He’s got to interdict maritime traffic into Long Beach and Los Angeles.”

He heard nothing for a moment, then, “Holy shit, man, you’re talking about shutting down two of the largest ports in the United States. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m not saying shut them down. We have a pinpoint we can use. The bomb is radiological, which means we only need to slow down the traffic, getting the Coast Guard to check each and every boat from Panama with radiological detection devices outside the port zone.”

“Okay, I’ll take that forward. I need to talk to the secretary of commerce and transportation about the impact, and I’ll need your analysis of how sure you are this will occur. We also need to approach this with an eye for the election before we do something rash—”

Kurt cut him off, saying, “Get me in touch with the president, right fucking now.”

He heard nothing for a moment, then, “Colonel Hale, you do not dictate the response of the United States. There are people to consult. Ramifications you can’t even begin to understand.”

“With all due respect, that’s horseshit. Get me the president, or I’ll hang your ass with the deaths.”

After a moment, he heard, “Stand by. I’ll see what I can do. He’s on a flight to North Carolina.”

Kurt hung up the phone, seeing George do the same on the extension. George said, “That went well, I think. Maybe I should start looking into a welding school.”