Category Five (29 page)

Erin sat motionless.

Donovan swiveled in his seat and pulled a piece of paper from one of his zippered pockets. It was the sheet Steven had given him. He found the phone link for DIA operations and pounded out the numbers.

“This is Donovan Nash. I want to talk with Reynolds!” Donovan rubbed his eyes, thinking as he waited.

“Reynolds here.”

“I want you to listen carefully.” Donovan spoke in a hushed voice, but it was filled with anger. “I know about the bomb. If you drop that thing you'll kill five people—Dr. McKenna included.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Nash. You're barking up the wrong tree. I've already tried to stop it. The answer is no. When the eye reaches the 250 mile point…they're going to detonate it.”

Donovan's insides twisted at Reynolds' words. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“If I could stop it, I would.” Reynolds shifted his tack. “There's something else I need to tell you.”

“What NOW?” Donovan raised his voice out of frustration.

“We know now that Carl Simmons is dirty. He's the man we've been trying to find. The fact that he was caught trying to reprogram
Jonah
is proof of his guilt. But we need to know more.”

“After all the time you spent chasing after me?”

“Mr. Nash. I'm not through explaining this to you. The more information we could get from him before…well before they—”

“You know what?” Donovan interrupted, trying to keep his temper in check. “I'm through listening to you. My focus is on saving lives, not on interrogating your spy. If this is so urgent, use it to call off the bomb.”

“I can't reiterate how important his information might be to the safety—”

Donovan pressed the button to disconnect the call. He'd heard enough from Reynolds. In one swift motion he dialed the direct line to his office. With any luck, William had already spoken to the President.

“Yes?” William answered on the first ring.

“What have you got?” Donovan tried to stay hopeful as he waited for the reply.

“Write down this number,” William said quickly. “It's the direct line to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He's in the war room at the White House waiting for your call. It's the best the President could do. You'll have the full cooperation of the entire military to find a solution. But the bomb is going to be dropped on schedule. Nothing will change that.”

Donovan slumped as the words soaked in. “We're heading back to Dulles. If we can't figure out an alternative, I'm going to drop Erin and Frank off. Then Nicolas and I will fly back out and try to lead Michael through the storm. It's our last resort. Tell Peggy to have everyone ready for a quick turn.”

“I'll tell them.”

“See you in less than an hour.” Donovan disconnected the call and turned to Erin. “Go up front and tell Nicolas to get us to Dulles as fast as he can.”

Erin jumped up from her seat and ran forward. Donovan knew he could have used the intercom, but he needed a few moments alone to collect himself. He was running out of time and ideas. Lauren, Michael, and the others were poised to pay the ultimate price for his inability to find a solution. He tried to get a grip on his emotions and steel himself for the next call. He gathered all of his inner strength to fight off the images of his parents and Meredith—people in his life he hadn't been able to save. He felt the Gulfstream make a hard turn and the whine of the accelerating engines filled his ears. It was Nicolas heading them home. Donovan dialed the number William had given him.

“Colonel Adams,” came the reply as the phone was picked up.

“This is Donovan Nash.”

“One moment, sir.”

“Captain Nash. This is General Edward Porter. We've been briefed. This is a secure line so we can speak freely.”

“Thank you, General.” Donovan noticed that he was being addressed by his civilian rank as an aircraft commander.

“Now. What can we do for you?” Porter said sternly.

“How far from the blast does my airplane need to be to survive the explosion?”

“Hard to say, Captain. We've never detonated a device of this size. But to be on the safe side, I'd recommend at least seventy-five miles. I understand the aircraft has damage to the flight
controls. Do you think they can make it out of the eye in their present condition?”

“I don't know. But without any other options, it's our only chance.”

“I'm looking at a report we received from NOAA. Yesterday, one of their P-3s suffered structural damage in the hurricane.”

“I already know about that,” Donovan replied. “What if you dispatched one of your jets…a fighter. They're stressed for that kind of punishment. Could we use one or two F-15's to try to find a soft spot in the storm? At least big enough for them to escape the blast area?”

“That's a thought, Captain. General Erickson of the Air Force is with me. He just dialed Andrews Air Force base. We'll have an answer momentarily.”

Donovan was buoyed by the exchange. It was a long shot, but that's all they seemed to have left. “General, fuel on the Gulfstream might be an issue here. If we get them away from the blast area, they might still have to ditch. How close are your ships?”

“That's a problem, I'm afraid. All of our submerged and surface assets have been ordered away from the area. Our best bet would be to launch a helicopter to attempt a rescue. That is, of course, if we could get them a survivable distance from the blast.”

Donovan's body jerked as if he'd been shocked. In an instant he began to formulate the first fragments of a plan.

“General! Did you say submerged assets…as in submarine?” He tried to grasp each piece of the puzzle and place it in the proper sequence. His adrenaline began to pump furiously as each essential element fell into place.

“Yes. But the nearest one is hundreds of miles away.”

“Listen carefully, General.” Donovan saw Erin emerge from the cockpit. He covered the phone with his hand. “Erin! Change of plans. Have Nicolas head us toward Norfolk, Virginia! And tell Michael to stay put!”

“Captain?” General Porter queried.

“Sorry about that, General.” Donovan collected his thoughts, trying to get everything in order. “Okay, First. Forget about the F-15s. Here's what I want. And, needless to say—I'm going to need all of this in a hurry.”

I
can't believe they'd even consider such a thing!” Brent jumped to his feet. “I know, I had the same reaction when Calvin first told me.” Lauren wished he would calm down. “Brent. It's not over yet. They're working on a way to get us to safety.”

Carl shook his head in disbelief. “In case you haven't noticed, this airplane is full of holes. If we could fly out of here, why haven't we? We're trapped! All of us are going to be killed like so many expendable lab rats!”

“That's enough!” Lauren shouted, her own panic beginning to rise. She was thankful that Brent had used more than one tie wrap to secure Carl to the console. “The best people in the world are working on our problem.”

“How much time do we have?” Brent asked calmly.

Lauren looked at her watch. “Three hours and forty minutes or so. Depends on Helena. The minimum distance they'll let her get from land is 250 miles.”

“Oh Christ!” Carl shook his head as he looked vacantly up at the ceiling. “The hurricane was speeding up last time we looked.
And everything back here is dead! We won't even know it's time until we're vaporized!”

“That's not true,” Lauren countered.

“Carl, why don't you shut up,” Brent warned.

Carl sat motionless, his chest heaving. His eyes darted around the cabin, then he leveled a murderous gaze at Brent. “You don't get it, do you? Everyone's going to die!”

“But we're not dead yet,” Lauren said. “Now please calm down.”

“I don't mean just us,” Carl's voice dropped noticeably. “I mean everyone…my entire family. They're going to kill my wife and children like they killed Kenneth.”

“What?” Lauren spun and faced Carl.

“It's why I shut down
Jonah
. I had to conserve all the power so it would stay aloft until it was over land. They want the hardware.”

“Who are they?” Brent asked.

“I don't know. It was Kenneth who was first contacted. According to him, it was a simple case of corporate espionage. He said an aerospace company wanted to get a jump on their competitors. They were willing to pay handsomely for certain information. No one was suppose to die. I swear I'm not a traitor.”

“What about Donovan Nash. How is he involved?” Brent urged Carl to keep talking.

“He's not. We were going to let him be the focus of any internal investigation. He was already a suspect so it worked perfectly. Besides, Kenneth hated him for what he did to Lauren.”

“What!” Lauren was stung by his words.

“Kenneth leaked some documents to a reporter to try to get back at Nash for everything he'd done to you.”

“What did Kenneth think Donovan had done?” Lauren asked.

“He said he thought Donovan was Abigail's father. That he'd left you to fend for yourself. Kenneth was furious and wanted to get back at him.”

On impulse, Lauren leaned in and whispered. “I hope you realize what you've done. You've killed three people already, and who knows how many more people are going to suffer.”

Carl turned away and lowered his chin to his chest. “Please protect my family.” Tears rolled from his red eyes.

“That might be problematic,” Brent replied. “But the only way we'd even try would be in return for your complete cooperation—if we survive.”

Carl nodded, weakly.

Brent turned to Lauren. “Is there any way we can talk with DIA headquarters?

Lauren looked around them. “With all of the damage to the airplane, I'm not sure it would be wise to power up any of the systems.”

Brent lowered his head and exhaled in agreement. “I just thought we could pull some data from the computers, maybe even re-task
Jonah
. The least we could do is let Reynolds know about the threat to Carl's family. It might help us catch the people we're looking for.”

“As far as I'm concerned, Carl isn't very far up my list of priorities,” Lauren was furious. “He's responsible for nearly killing me in Bermuda! For that matter, he may well kill us all.”

“I understand,” Brent replied. “But this is important.”

In the rear of the plane, Lauren thought she saw some movement. She snapped her head around and was flooded with relief. It was Randy, trying to raise himself up off the floor.

“Oh my God. Randy, you're awake.” Lauren hurried to help. Brent was right behind her.

“Take it easy.” Lauren crouched next to him. “Go slow.”

“What happened?” Randy's voice was thick and groggy.

“You took a nasty little spill.” Lauren reached out for him as he tried to get to his feet. Together they stood, Randy swaying slightly and reaching out for the bulkhead.

“Is Michael all right?” Randy slurred his words slightly. His eyes blinked hard as he tried to focus.

“Help me get him to that seat.” Lauren moved aside and let Brent reach in. Together, they carefully guided Randy to the nearest vacant science station. They eased him down, careful to not let his injured back hit anything. A mask of sweat and pain glistened on Randy's face.

“Oh, man,” Randy gasped, “my shoulder is killing me.”

“You were bleeding. It was a puncture wound; I think something from the explosion got you.” Lauren stood with her hand on his shoulder, not sure he was quite ready to sit unassisted.

Randy winced as he moved. “I think I need to put my head down.”

Lauren pulled a blanket off the floor and wrapped it around him. “You rest. Michael is fine for now.” She gave Brent a look of concern. “Can you stay with him? I'm going back to the cockpit. Let me know if anything changes. I'll do the same.”

Lauren turned to make her way up front to the cockpit. After the emotional turmoil she'd just experienced, the flight deck seemed like an oasis of calm in their own miniature storm.

“How'd it go?” Michael turned as she sat down in the copilot's seat.

“About as well as could be expected.” Lauren brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Randy's awake. He's not in great shape, but at least he's alive.”

“Is he good enough to come back up here and help me?”

Lauren shook her head. “Not right now.”

“I do want to apologize for my behavior earlier—back at the hangar,” Michael began. He lowered his eyes as he spoke. “I was out of line. Donovan is my best friend, but I shouldn't have said the things I did…I'm sorry.”

Lauren was both shocked and touched. The last thing she'd expected was a heartfelt apology.

“I'm old enough to know every story has two sides. I'm afraid I lost my perspective back there.”

“Thank you, Michael.”

“He was glad to see you the other day.” Michael shifted in his seat. “He was caught a little off guard, but he was happy.”

“If you say so,” Lauren said before she could stop her response. She silently berated herself. Here was an opportunity to get into Donovan's mind and she'd come off as being disinterested.

“I'm serious,” Michael reiterated. “I don't know if it changes anything, but he's never stopped thinking about you.”

“He saved my life in Bermuda. Of all the people in the world to come to my rescue…” Lauren let her words trail off quietly.

Michael smiled, “You should have seen him blow out of the plane when he heard it was you that was missing. He was a man possessed.”

Lauren processed what Michael had said. Had Donovan really charged to her rescue?