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Meanwhile, the countdown clock read 9:34, and as I watched while Madox spoke, it went to 9:00, then 8:59.
I was catching most of what Madox was saying, and when he began to recite the cities in the world of Islam that were going to be nuked if Wild Fire was ever triggered, I thought the guy was going to have an orgasm.
I mean, he was in total ecstasy, and I sort of hoped he would swoon or something.
When he got to the part of the Wild Fire plan about nuking the Aswan High Dam, he became animated, threw his arms into the air, and said, “Billions of gallons of water. The entire Lake Nasser and the Nile will sweep away Egypt and deposit sixty million bodies in the Mediterranean.”
Jeez. Bain. Tell me you’re not nuts.
As riveting as this was, I did notice two things: one, Madox had his Colt.45 stuck in the inside pocket of his blue blazer, and two, Luther was looking a little concerned, as though this were all new to him. In fact, he lit a cigarette, which you’re not supposed to do on-duty. Especially if it means leaving your rifle dangling by its sling over your shoulder while you screw around with your cigarettes and lighter.
Meanwhile, the room was getting smoky, and I was going to point out that secondhand smoke was not healthy for any of us, but then Bain would point out that neither Kate nor I should be thinking long-range.
The countdown clock read 7:28.
A phone rang somewhere in the room, and it was actually Madox’s cell phone, which he pulled out of his pocket. He said, “Madox,” then he listened and confirmed, “Project Green is go,” followed by, “Kaiser Wilhelm,” who must be in on this, or more likely that was a code word that meant everything was fine, and he-Madox-was not under duress.
Madox listened again, then responded, “Good.” He glanced at the countdown clock and said into his cell phone, “About five or six minutes, give or take, then the two minutes for the lock-in. Yes. That’s good. What are they having for di
I said, “Excuse me, Bain. I must not have been paying attention, but-”
“Oh, sorry. That was Paul Du
“Is the food that bad?”
Madox laughed and said, “You actually are fu
“Sixty million bodies floating down the Nile.”
“Right. The biggest single loss of life in the history of the world. Plus, don’t forget another hundred million or more of our Muslim friends incinerated in a hundred more nuclear explosions.”
I still wasn’t quite following this. I understood what Wild Fire was-which sounded a little extreme as a retaliation for a terrorist nuke going off in America-but who was I to judge? What I didn’t understand was how Madox, by nuking four Islamic cities, was going to trigger Wild Fire… then I got it. It wasn’t four Islamic cities. It was two American cities. The cities where the nukes were right now-LA and San Francisco. Holy shit. I looked at Kate, who I could see was white as a ghost.
Madox grabbed a remote clicker from his console and turned on the three flat screen televisions.
The first one brightened, and I could see a news studio, and a weather lady was pointing at a national weather map. Madox said, “Washington,” then he hit the Mute button as the sound came up.
The second screen showed another news studio and some guy was giving a sports roundup. Madox noted, “San Francisco,” then muted that TV as well.
The third screen showed two news anchors yakking it up with a daytime skyline behind them, and it took me a few seconds to recognize it as downtown Los Angeles. Madox listened for a few seconds, then looked at his watch. “Okay, it’s seven fifty-six here, so on the Left Coast, it’s four fifty-six P.M.” He looked at his countdown clock that read 4:48,:47,:46,:45-.
He said, “So, we have five or six minutes for the last letter-D-to reach the receivers. Then, two minutes for lock-in.” He paused. “GOD.”
I cleared my throat and said to him, “Are you…? I mean, are you…?”
“Spit it out, John.”
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?”
I didn’t reply, and neither did Kate.
He sat back in his swivel chair, crossed his legs, and lit yet another cigarette. “Project Green. That’s the name of my plan to trigger Wild Fire. Get it? Four suitcase nukes-two in LA, two in San Francisco.” He added, “They cost me ten million bucks, plus maintenance.”
Madox glanced back at the countdown clock. “They’ll all blow in less than six minutes.” He turned toward us and said, “Then, the Wild Fire retaliatory response kicks in, and we blow those Islamic sons of bitches off the face of the Earth for what they did to Los Angeles and San Francisco-” He stopped abruptly, as though something just dawned on him, then said, “I forgot. I’m blowing up San Francisco and Los Angeles.” He laughed.
Holy shit. I said to him, “Bain, for God’s sake, you can’t-”
“John, shut up. You sound like Harry now. And while you’re shutting your mouth, think about how beautiful this is. Project Green. Wild Fire. Why green? Because…” He looked at the flat screens. “See that ribbon ru
He rambled on a bit, and I looked at the news shows from LA and San Francisco, hoping I’d see some indication that some dangerous plot had been uncovered in those cities. But the anchors were starting to wrap it up. I hoped-prayed, actually-that both pilots and co-pilots in both cities had been found. But the chances of all four of those guys being found by now, along with the suitcase nukes, were not good.
I said to Madox, “Bain, the government will know it was you and not the terrorists who-”
“John, even if they did figure it out, it would be too late. Wild Fire is hardwired and on a hair trigger.”
“Bain, they’ll be here looking for you-”
“You know what? I don’t give a shit as long as I know that the world of Islam is lying in nuclear ruin. I don’t mind being a martyr for my country, my faith-”
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re going to murder millions of Americans, millions of i
“John, shut the fuck up.” He glanced quickly at Carl and Luther, then said to me, “The ends justify the means.”
“No, they do not-”
He raised his voice. “They do! This is a whole New World we’re talking about. Are you too stupid to understand-?”
“I have to pee.”
Madox looked at Kate. “What?”
“I have to pee. Please, I can’t hold it in. I don’t want to… to wet myself here-”
Madox seemed a