Game of Drones (24 page)

“So you’re remote controlling the second drone?”

“Yes. I’m going to use it to track down the first drone. If I can get close enough, then I can target-acquire a Hellfire and take it out. Hellfires move seven times faster than a drone. The first Reaper is on a straight course between two points with no one controlling it. Because no one is controlling it, it can’t outmaneuver an incoming missile. It is simply programmed to go from point A to point B. Nothing more.”

“
So why do I need to contact Casey?”

Chance hesitated, but only for a split second. “He needs to be informed of its proposed target,” he finally said.

“And where would that be?”

“It’s heading for Calvert Cliffs Power Plant near Lusby. Casey needs the president to call off the air sortie and use those jets to intercept the drone. In case I miss.”

“Lusby’s fifty miles away. The drone must be more than a quarter of the distance. By the time Carmichael gets the message and reroutes the Phantoms, they won’t have enough time to intercept. But maybe they have other units nearby.”

“We can only hope.”

“Can you do this, Chance? Can you catch up?”

He nodded, even though Tanner couldn’t see him. “I can close to a distance that will enable me to lock on a Hellfire. But the distance between the two drones will still be great. In the end, Tanner, it’ll be a fifty-fifty possibility of taking it down, at best.”

“I’ll contact Casey immediately. And Chance.”

“Yeah.”

“Do your best.”

Chance continued to stare at the monitor.

Raven Rock

“Calvert Cliffs!” The president uttered the words as if they were the height of profanity.

John Casey, sitting between Jenifer Rimaldi and Simon Davis, said, “Yes, sir. The Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Plant."

“I know what it is, damn it!"

Casey's face reddened a bit but he maintained his composure. "It appears to be the target of the fourth launched drone, Mr. President.”

"So contact them immediately and have them shut down the cores and reactors.”

Davis waved a hand. He was already on the phone.

“What about Tanner Wilson?” asked President Carmichael.

Casey responded. “His group has taken the bunker. However, Shazad himself is still at large, and the whole place has been rigged with enough plastic explosives to blow it out of existence. As we speak, Mr. President, a timer is counting down.”

“Options?”

Casey nodded. “Slim. But the Phantom jets have been ordered by the Joint Chiefs to readjust their course and are on their way to intercept. We also have some SR-71Blackbirds coming in from the north. But the real problem, Mr. President, is that the jets may be too far away to close the distance in time. The fighters committing to the sortie have renegotiated their westerly position to the northeast. But it’s not looking as if they’ll be able to connect in time.”

President Carmichael fell back into his seat, looking terribly lost.

“But something else is brewing,” said Casey. “Tanner and his team launched the second drone and are in full control of it. This one is right on the heels of the first and they fully believe they can get close enough to take the first drone down with one of Shazad's own Hellfires.”

The president glared at his FBI Director. "They're
our
Hellfires, remember?" Nevertheless, the news seemed to perk Carmichael up a bit. What Casey offered him was hope.

He steamrolled over Casey's apology. “What are the chances of this happening?” he asked. The president's job demanded he deal in reality rather than hope.

“Significantly greater than being intercepted by the fighter jets, who really have no chance at all.”

Carmichael then leaned forward and clasped his hands together in an attitude of prayer.

“But there’s one more thing you need to know,” Casey went on. “The time that Tanner Wilson's team has is extremely limited unless they can disable the explosives that are set to demolish the compound, including the control station for the second drone with which they intend to take out the one heading for Calvert.”

The president raised his hands palms up and shrugged. “How much time are we talking about?”

Casey looked at his watch, then back to the president with grave features. “I’m afraid, Mr. President, that they have less than six minutes.”

Once again, hope vanished from Carmichael’s soul like wispy commas of mist.

The Bunker

In the north tunnel, Nay and Shah came upon a single room that was once the nerve center of the bunker. Inside the room was a generator—long since dead—that provided power to the shelter back in the seventies.

Against the far wall and steeped in shadows, a panel door stood about five feet off the floor.

Nay examined the area carefully for triggers and traps. Finding none, she proceeded to open the access panel.

“Careful,” Shah warned.

She opened the door slowly. Inside they saw a foot-long container with several vials of amber fluid attached to it, the vials acting as simple levels. Should the container be disturbed and the fluids within the vials shift, then the timer would engage and trigger an immediate pulse, which would in turn detonate the Semtex units.

She shook her head out of a combination of frustration and grudging admiration. Shazad had planned so well.

She lowered her lip mike. “Tanner.”

“Go.”

“I found the master unit. Very well protected.”

“Can you disable it?”

“If given the time . . . maybe.”

“Nay, I need you to be at your best. We need you to give us more time.”

She sighed.
Nothing like turning up the heat.
“How much time are we talking about here?”

There was a pause, then:
“Six minutes.”

“Which really means that I have four, since I need two minutes to clear out.”

“Exactly.”

She turned back to the guarded mechanism.

Lusby, Maryland

Sirens went off in unison at the Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Plant, located on the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay near Lusby, Maryland. The cores, rods and reactors were in the process of being shut down. Technicians moved quickly in an orderly fashion, racing from one control station to the next, throwing switches and powering down anything that could endanger the facility.

Approaching from the west, a Reaper bore down on them.

#

Chance was not alone in the room.

Tanner and Dante had entered the main chamber after dealing with Lut. Liam, however, had taken to the floor, the man growing dizzy from his wound. This caught the attention of Tanner, who evaluated Liam's wounded shoulder and noted the ugly rawness underneath. His face was also losing its color, now verging on a disturbing mauve-gray.

Tanner issued Dante a quick order. “Get him out of here and back to the vehicles. If we need to bug out quickly, he’d never make it.”

Dante aided Liam to his feet. He then hooked an arm around Liam and ushered him toward the exit, leaving Chance and Tanner alone by the podium.

. . . 05:27 . . .

. . . 05:26 . . .

. . . 05:25 . . .

“How’re you doing?” Tanner asked Chance.

"We'll know in a couple minutes." Chance continued to eagle-eye the display and manage the controls. “I’m on course, but it’s not in view yet.”

Tanner looked at his watch.
You’re cutting it close, my friend.

But Chance wasn’t through. “Even then, it’ll only be a speck in the sky.”

Tanner closed his eyes in frustration as all hope began to dwindle. Then he lowered his lip mike.

“Nay.”

“Yeah, Tanner.”

“Sitrep?”
Situation report.

“This could take me up to four, maybe five more minutes.”

“Nay, you have four minutes. Not a second longer.” Then: “Steve?”

“Right here, boss.”

“You’re the timekeeper,” he told him. “Four minutes from now, if the bomb isn’t disabled, you get Nay and yourself out of there. You copy?”

“Four minutes. I copy.”

"Nay?”

“I copy."

“Four minutes. Out.”

He turned back to Chance who appeared as calm as calm could be. But Tanner sensed that he was masking his true emotions. He had to be. He was a man, not a stone.

“Are you all right?” he asked him.

“Fine,” he said. “Just . . . fine.” Chance continued to manipulate the controls.

#

The second Reaper traveled at top speed as it neared its quarry through patches of scudding clouds. Unlike its predecessor that skimmed the treetop contours, trading a longer flight time for the added stealth of terrain masking, the second MQ-10 remained at a constant altitude, enabling it to hurtle along at a much faster rate than the first drone.

But as fast as it moved, the first drone was still not in sight.

#

Nay was finding it difficult to disable the countdown mechanism. The fluids within the vials teased back and forth, threatening to trigger the killing pulse by shifting inside the glass tubes. What she needed was time, an unattainable luxury right now.

Shah kept one keen eye on Nay and one on the doorway. “How’s it going?” he asked her.

“It’s not. I need to detach these vials before I can get at the unit--four of them. But they’re so delicate and I don’t want to rush the job. I can do it, but I need time.”

As delicate as the vials were, she was able to remove the first one, leaving three to go.

Shah studied his watch.

. . . 04:14 . . .

. . . 04:13 . . .

. . . 04:12 . . .

“You have two minutes and twelve seconds,” he informed her.

She shook her head in dismay.
It’s not enough time!

#

For the first time in his life Tanner Wilson was a chronic clock watcher. His arm was bent at the elbow, the readout of his watch less than a foot from his face as he eyeballed the stopwatch function on his G-Shock, which he had earlier synchronized to the Semtex timing mechanism.

“How’s it going, Chance?”

“Not in view yet.”

. . . 03:45 . . .

. . . 03:44 . . .

. . . 03:43 . . .

Even if it was in view, thought Tanner, they would never have an opportunity to make things right. Calvert Cliffs was about to go up.

“Chance . . .” Tanner let the word hang, the tone behind it enough to express that it was time to abort the mission.

But Chance refused. “I’ve still got time,” he told him. Then more to himself.

“I’ve still got time.”

. . . 03:32 . . .

. . . 03:31 . . .

. . . 03:30 . . .

#

Raven Rock

President Carmichael and his team of career politicians sat with baited breath until the next round of reports came in. The news was anything but good. As speculated, the fighter jets were either too far away or had been reassigned too late to intercept the drone.

The only possibility for salvation now lay in the hands of Tanner Wilson and OUTCAST Ops. The whispered rumors behind how the group got its name did little to assuage the fears of those in the room. But right now Tanner's outfit was all they had, and they were grateful to have that hope. The only thing that President Carmichael could do was pray.

And that he did, tenting his fingers before him.

#

The Bunker

The liquid in the second vial moved ever so slightly, threatening to end the countdown early.

The time on the faceplate was now down to 03:10.

Naomi reached into the housing with her thumb and forefinger, grabbed the glass vial, and worked to disconnect it from its holding clamps. The process was slow and tedious, requiring the utmost dexterity on her part. And of course this meticulousness came at a price:

. . . 02:59 . . .

. . . 02:58 . . .

. . . 02:57 . . .

Although she removed the vial and set it aside, she knew that she had run out of time. She hit her lip mike assemblage. “Tanner.”

“Go.”

“Two down, two to go, but out of time with 2:54 left. Permission to bug out.”

“You’ve exhausted all efforts?”

“I have.”

“Permission granted. You and Steve head back to the mobile units. Dante and Liam have already vacated.”

“Copy that.” She turned to Shah and jerked a thumb at the doorway. “We’re out of here.”

He glanced once at the countdown timer, nodded, then took point.

#

“All right, Chance,” said Tanner, gazing at his watch. It had 2:49 showing. “Time to move.”

“Can’t do that."

“Chance, we’re out of time. You did your best. Let's go.”

Chance turned to Tanner with the most conflicted expression he'd ever seen. Hopelessness mixed with determination? Tanner had never seen anything quite like it. Chance had the skills to maneuver the drone through space--had been born to do so, having been a Night Stalker. But in the end it all came down to the buzzer going off just as the basketball is tossed at the net for the winning goal. Now that the first drone was coming into range with the second drone closing in on it, he needed time, which he didn’t have.

Unless he stayed for a buzzer-beater shot.

But he knew all too well that the price for doing that would be his life. And yet he did not think of himself. He only thought of Nay. He turned around to look Tanner Wilson in the eye.

“You tell Nay I love her, you hear?’

Tanner reached out and grabbed Chance by the shoulder. “Tell her yourself. You can’t stay." He moved to physically pull Chance from the control podium but the former Delta operator ducked out of his hold, maintaining his stance.

“I don’t have a choice,” he said. “That Reaper is heading for the Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Plant. If it hits, we all know that the Chesapeake Bay and that part of Maryland will become a dead zone for centuries.”