Craig Kreident #2 Fallout (35 page)

But instead, the secretary brought the handgun down, wiping rain away from her face.
 
“Good old Mike.
 
He said he was willing to die for the cause,” she said with a glacial smile.
 
“Freedom doesn’t come cheap.”

“But he promised he wouldn’t disarm the bomb,” Paige said, wanting to claw the woman’s eyes out.
 
“You were supposed to run away together.”

“That was the original plan,” Sally said, “but the result is the same, and now he can’t ever finger me by getting caught.
 
I got rid of Jorgenson for the same reason.
 
Now I leave a clean field behind me.
 
Besides, Mike wouldn’t have been worth a damn as a hostage — and you certainly are.”
 
She gestured to the second land rover.
 
“If the military or anybody gives us trouble, I can use you as a bargaining chip.
 
Get in, and we’ll high-tail it out of here.
 
Put enough distance between us and ground zero.”

“Why should I bother?” Paige said, crossing her arms over her chest.
 
She had no other way of resisting.
 
“You’ll kill me as soon as you get clear.”

Sally shrugged.
 
“Depends on how it all turns out.
 
Would you rather die now or in an hour or two?
 
Your choice.”

Wiping her hands on her jeans, Paige left Uncle Mike’s vehicle and shuffled toward the other land rover.
 
She glanced once more at the gaunt man’s body, but saw nothing there.
 
The Mike Waterloo she had known and loved had died long ago.

Surprisingly strong, Sally Montry lifted Mike’s body and hoisted him into the front seat of the first land rover, then she closed and locked all the doors as a final precaution to keep the warhead inaccessible before she hurried over to where Paige stood at the passenger side door.

“Don’t make me waste time in pointless threats.
 
You know I’ll shoot you, and you know I don’t have much patience.
 
Get in!”

Behind them, in the back compartment of the other vehicle, the nuclear device continued its countdown.

“Every second brings us closer to the big mushroom cloud,” Sally said, “and we’re both going to have to haul ass to get beyond the lethal radius in time.
 
As it is, the rain will make overland travel more difficult.”

Seething, yet totally helpless, Paige climbed reluctantly inside the land rover.
 
She couldn’t think of a way to fight back.
 
Yet.

That was when they heard the helicopter approaching.

CHAPTER 44

Friday, October 24

7:26 A.M.

En Route to Area 51

Groom Lake Auxiliary Station

In the rear of the military helicopter, Craig sat on a long webbed seat next to LtCol Terrell and General Ursov.
 
The chopper was no-nonsense craft larger than the DOE craft they’d flown in earlier, but not as large as the monstrous MH-53 behemoths that had joined the desperate search.
 

A two-man security detail stood at the open side door, scanning the brown desert with infra-red binoculars as the helicopters swept across the sky.
 
The storm blurred all details, erasing the path of ground vehicles, knocking the aircraft about.
 
But they continued at high speed toward their destination.

Toward Dreamland.

Grasping a braided red nylon rope that ran from the front to the back of the cockpit ceiling, Terrell leaned next to Craig.
 
He extended a hand out of the fuselage, shouting over the constant thrumming that washed into the helicopter.
 

“If Waterloo really has an IFF, he can neutralize our standard electronic detectors, but we’ve also requested some high-altitude reconnaissance from the Air Force.
 
They’re scrambling a TR-1 and a SR-71 sortie, whichever can get here first.
  
They’ve promised a JSTARS as well.”

“How long is that going to take?” Craig asked.

“Could be as much as a few hours.”

“That will be too late,” Ursov said gruffly.

Terrell snapped a glance over at the Russian defensively.
 
“With the end of the Cold War we don’t keep those aircraft on alert anymore.”

“What about the ground search?” asked Craig, putting down his own binoculars.
 
“Have you coordinated with the NEST team?”

“Been there, done that,” said Terrell.
 
His dark arm rippled with muscles as he grasped the nylon safety rope.
 
“They’re sweeping up from the south with your FBI task force, and we’re coming down from the north.
 
We should squeeze the terrorists in the middle.”

“Hopefully, we’ll have enough time.
 
We might not be able to wait for a full-scale military assault,” Craig said.
 
“Luckily, I don’t think Waterloo knows we’re coming.”

“He will as soon as he hears the helicopters,” Terrell said.
 
He ducked and stepped across the interior to the cockpit, where he spoke to the helmeted pilot, who pulled a folded map from a leg pocket in his green flightsuit.
 
Terrell shook out the map as he made his way back to Craig and Ursov.

Terrell smoothed the plastic map on the webbed seat, then glanced uneasily at the Russian general before he pointed out the Groom Lake base perimeter.
 
Unidentified buildings were marked around the dry lakebed near another airstrip.
 
“We’ll concentrate the air search in this area.”

Craig studied the brown and green shading that marked the contours of the Nellis Air Force Range surrounding the separate, internal area of Groom Lake Auxiliary Station.
 
It reminded him of the crude sketch he had found in Waterloo’s home only a few hours before.

Given the size of the desert, he couldn’t conceive of searching the whole base visually.
 
No wonder the military relied on technological means to secure so many square miles — but Mike Waterloo had shown how easy it was to circumvent even the best security, given inside assistance, a few gadgets, and reliable information.

“Eagle’s Claw has spent too much time planning this operation to play hide and seek in the desert.
 
I’m sure I know where he’s going,” Craig said.
 
“And I’m half sure he’s got a hostage.”
 
His chest tightened as he thought of Paige, betrayed by her Uncle Mike, dragged along so she couldn’t sound the alarm.

“We cannot allow ourselves to get into a hostage situation,” Terrell said, “not with a live warhead at stake.
 
We must take extreme measures, if we feel the situation is warranted.
 
Millions of lives are at risk.”

Craig felt sick in his stomach.
 
“Just make damned sure it doesn’t come to that.”

He looked out of the open helicopter door.
 
Craggy mountains, bare of any trees contrasted with the dusty arroyos and dry lakebeds below.
 
A thousand places to hide.
 

But Waterloo hadn’t come up here to hide — but to destroy.
 
How much time did they really have left?

“That’s Dreamland down below, gentlemen,” Terrell said.
 
A two-mile-long runway had been scribed like a pale line across a white-salt lakebed.
 
Rocks the size of cars punctuated the ground.
 
Immense featureless buildings sat at the edge of the flat playa, surrounded by concentric fences.
 
Two large aircraft sat on a concrete pad at the end of one runway.
 
“By law, I should request that you keep your eyes closed during our search.”

General Ursov let out a disbelieving laugh, and the lieutenant colonel sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be taken seriously.
 
He grasped the red safety line as the helicopter approached the south side of the isolated complex.
 
He leaned forward to study as much of the complex as he could.
 

“Don’t get your hopes up, General,” Terrell said dryly.
 
“We keep all the really interesting stuff hidden inside the hangars.”

“Yes, I know,” Ursov said, straightening.
 
“And you only fly them at night.”

“Not necessarily all of them,” Terrell said with a faint smile.
 
“Even spy satellites have certain limitations.”

Craig steadied himself as the helicopter descended to begin a sweeping search of the isolated complex, far from the main base headquarters.

In the right-hand seat the copilot twisted around and gestured excitedly.
 
“I think we’ve spotted something, sir.
 
Camouflaged vehicles in the gully behind Delta Hangar.”

“
Delta
hangar?”
 
Terrell’s face drew tight.
 
“Oh, shit.”
 
He turned to Ursov.
 
“Sit down, sir.
 
And strap in.”

The Russian plopped down in the webbed seat next to Craig.
 
“Nothing interesting there, I am sure — correct, Special Agent Kreident?”

Still fastened in his safety harness, Craig leaned forward to squint down at the fenced-in complex below.
 
A narrow gully ran behind the largest buildings before it widened and opened up into a rocky alluvial fan across the desert floor.

If Waterloo had driven from the south, from NTS, he might have been able to approach the isolated complex by keeping out of sight in the gully, traveling at night, confounding the Groom Lake sensors with his stolen IFF.

The helicopter wheeled around, coming in from behind the forbidding security installation, then rapidly descended toward the ground like an eagle diving for prey.
 
Craig felt his stomach trying to claw its way up his throat.

Maybe Paige was down there.
 
Somewhere.

One of the enlisted security men pointed down at an angle.
 
“There, Colonel Terrell!”

Hidden in the long morning shadows of the broad gully he saw a pair of four-wheel-drive land rovers, camouflaged with mottled brown and gray so that they nearly vanished into the landscape.
 
Craig couldn’t see anyone moving around the vehicles.
 
He felt his heart start to yammer.
 
Was Paige down there
?

Terrell stepped back from the cockpit.
 
“Just where you said they would be, Mr. Kreident.
 
I think we have it under control at this point.”
 

The helicopter wheeled in the sky, keeping a good thousand feet above the ground.
 
No one stepped from the land rovers.

Terrell leaned toward the copilot.
 
“Get me a radio mike.”
 
He pulled on the curled black cord and brought the microphone up to his mouth.
 
“Security detail, this is command post.
 
We’ll need a NEST squad and EOD team in the gully about a quarter mile behind Delta Hangar.
 
All units sweep north back to the main complex.”
 
He clicked off the mike and said to the copilot, “Put me on Guard frequency.
 
Maybe someone down there is listening.
 
If not, we can always use the loudspeaker.”

The copilot punched in the new frequency.
 
The two enlisted men took up positions on either side of the open door.
 
Securing their helmets and strapping into the helicopter’s safety lines, they unlatched M-16 rifles from a weapons cache.
 
Craig and General Ursov watched the preparations, feeling extraneous.

The lean black officer brought the mike back up.
 
“Attention, land rovers below.
 
This is LtCol Terrell, Groom Lake Ops group commander.
 
You are trespassing on government property in a highly secure area.
 
Throw down any weapons you may have and exit your vehicle immediately.
 
Security teams are approaching.
 
Make no threatening moves.”

He waited a moment then spoke again.
 
“Attention, land rover.
 
Make no mistake — we have weapons trained on you and we are authorized to use deadly force.
 
Surrender immediately.”

But the two motionless land rovers responded only with silence.
 
Before long, the rain would make the gully unfit for travel even with the rugged vehicles.

“I guess we’ve got ourselves one of those difficult situations,” Craig said.
 
He hoped Paige was safe down there.

General Ursov peered over at Craig.
 
“They know they cannot get away,” he murmured.

“That won’t stop them from doing anything desperate,” Craig said, turning to Terrell.
 
“We can’t afford a long standoff here.
 
They might be trying to set off that nuke.
 
Does your security team have anything we can use in a hostage situation?”

Terrell thought for a moment, then said grimly, “Yes, I think we might have a very unusual surprise for them.”

CHAPTER 45

Friday, October 24

7:46 A.M.

Dreamland

The Dreamland facility changed, moved . . . opened.

With a loud shuddering noise in the eerie desert stillness, the great metal doors along the near side of Delta Hangar groaned apart.
 
Generators hummed, and heavy machinery activated with a clamor like an assembly line — but no human figures showed themselves.