Memorial Day

Rapp put the engines in neutral and ignored the man. "Sam, grab those lines and tie us up."

Three men came ru

"Listen here, you jackass. In all my years as a sailor I have never seen a bigger bonehead move." The man came right up to the edge of the boat. "Just who in the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm a federal agent," replied Rapp, as he pointed at the dead bodies laying on the aft sundeck. "I killed those two right there, there's a third one down in the cabin, and unless you want to be number four I'd advise you to get your ass off this dock and out of my face right now!"

Dumbfounded, the man just stood staring at the two bodies.

"Now!" Rapp yelled. The man turned and walked as quickly away from the dock as his ski

One of Reimer's guys was wearing a backpack. He walked down the boat ramp and right into the water. By the time he reached the swim platform the water was almost up to his crotch.

"They had to put the doors back on. They'll be here in less than two minutes."

Rapp nodded. "Go up there and tell those people to get the hell out of here."

The tech stood sideways in front of the cooler for several seconds and then yelled back to the other two men, "Gamma eleven, neutron six."

Rapp watched with great interest. "What in the hell does that mean?"

"It means it's hot." The SRT tech walked quickly back up the ramp, his pants soaked.

Rapp looked up at the still-gathering crowd. Sam was trying to push them back. Several people were pointing and asking questions, while others were looking at the CIA helicopter that was now circling overhead looking for a place to land.

Rapp pulled out his pistol and fired two shots into the water. The loud reports got everyone's attention. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him. "I want this parking lot cleared right now Goddammit! This is an emergency!"

Everyone finally got the hint and began scrambling for their vehicles. Rapp grabbed his phone and dialed Reimer's number. "Paul, it's Mitch. I have an idea. Why don't we load the device on a helicopter and get it the hell out of here?"

"That's not how we do it, Mitch."

"Why?"

"We have to conduct diagnostics first. Ideally we don't want to move it at all, especially by air."

"Why?"

"An aerial burst increases the range and destruction of the blast. Just sit tight and let my people work. The Blue Team should be there in five minutes, and we'll have the device defused in no time."

Rapp glanced down at the bomb. "Excuse me for not sharing your confidence, but when al-Yamani said that only Zubair could defuse this baby, I think he meant it."

"Mitch, these bomb techs from SEAL Team Six are the best. They'll be able to figure out the fire set."

"And what if they can't?" asked a clearly skeptical Rapp.

"It's never happened before, Mitch."

"Is that in practice or reality?"

"Both."

"Bullshit. You're telling me these guys have defused live nukes before?"

"No...not live nukes, but they deal with working exercise devices all the time. The principle is the same."

"I hope to hell you're right."

Ninety-Two

The Blue Team arrived aboard two gray U.S. Navy Seahawk helicopters. The large birds set down in the parking lot and a half dozen men piled out of each helicopter. At least six of them were dressed from head to toe in black combat gear and heavily armed. These men immediately fa

Rapp was still at the helm of theScandinavian Princess. He watched the SEALs unload their equipment and consult with the members of the DOE Search Response Team. He checked his watch. It was 12:08. Rapp had gotten over the jitters that this thing was going to blow any second. He was sure that al-Yamani wanted to get it as close as possible to the heart of the capital, and also to kill the president and the rest of the leaders who were to be present at the dedication of the new WWII memorial. That event was to begin at 1:00, so if Rapp was forced to bet, he'd say they probably had another fifty-two minutes until the bomb was set to go off.

In his mind, though, those were crucial minutes that could be used to get the bomb further away from the city. Rapp looked at the four helicopters in the parking lot, and decided to call Reimer back. "Paul, listen to me. I'm guessing the weapon is set to go off at one o'clock. I still think we should put it on a helicopter and get it as far away from the city as possible."

"Mitch, I already told you, we need to do the diagnostics first."

"Can't they do that in the air?"

"What if the terrorists placed an altimeter in the fire set and the second this thing gets a hundred feet off the ground it blows?"

Rapp hadn't thought of that. "All right, but what's the plan if the SEALs can't defuse it?"

"We're working on that right now."

Rapp watched the two men in the sealed suits walk down the boat ramp carrying a piece of equipment. "What do you mean, you're working on it?"

"Our first choice would be to take it out to sea."

"That's assuming you'll have enough time. It's at least a hundred miles to the Eastern Shore."

"And the beaches are packed right now, and the wind is blowing to the west, and that's just for starters, Mitch. We game this stuff all the time. The environmental impact, the economic impact, we've looked at it from every angle."

"If taking it out to sea isn't going to work, then what's the other option?"

"The only other option is to take it someplace remote, where the blast and fallout will do the least damage."

"That's it?" said a shocked Rapp. "That's our last and best option?"

Reimer didn't answer right away. "There is one other option, but it has never been fully studied. I don't think the president would ever authorize it. I know the Pentagon would flat out say no."

"Why?"

"Because it involves destroying a multibillion-dollar government facility."

One of the SEALs in desert fatigues came jogging down the dock toward Rapp. "What facility?" asked Rapp.

"Mitch, that's the president on the other line. I'm going to have to call you back."

"Don't..." The line went dead and Rapp cursed.

"Mr. Rapp?"

It was the SEAL who was now standing next to the boat. Rapp let out a long sigh and said, "Yes?"

"Lieutenant Troy Mathews." The officer stuck out his hand. "General Flood told me to keep you in the loop."

He shook the officer's hand. "What's the status with this thing?" Rapp pointed at the cooler. The two men in space suits were moving a device around the outside of the cooler, pausing every few feet and then moving on.

"That's a portable X-ray machine. They're snapping some photos for us so we know what's inside."

"Lieutenant," one of the men in the space suits yelled. "I'm counting six separate firing systems."

"Six?" the officer asked in a shocked voice.

"Yes, and I think they used plastique for a molded charge. It's covered with at least two dozen blasting caps."

"Six firing systems? You've got to be shitting me." Mathews looked toward the parking lot and shouted, "Mike, I need the drill and the fiber-optic camera right away."