The Alpha Deception (40 page)

Suddenly Heep felt chilled through his sweat. What of McCracken?

Natalya had resigned herself to failure. She was beaten, and so was the world. She had no reason for hope because she had no way of knowing what had transpired in Raskowski’s command vault.

His computers in Zurich had been beaming a continuous set of commands to the generator complex in Pamosa Springs. The overload there had been so great that a huge charge of feedback sped back over the open line, tracing the path of the original command to fire. The charge was so potent that upon receiving it, everything electrical within the vault began to short-circuit. Control boards fizzled and smoked, some giving way to full-scale eruptions which showered sparks everywhere. The lighting died. All power ceased to function.

More of the circuit boards and panels crackled and smoked, fire popping up in one after the other. The flames spread quickly through the oxygen-rich air, attempts to fight them abandoned after a short time in favor of escape. But the vault remained electronically sealed. And the flames were widening, reaching outward in tentacles coated with poisonous vapors and fumes. The bulk of the personnel rushed the vault door and pushed on it futilely, coughing, dying, while the whole time General Vladimir Raskowski clung to the command dais, pressing the firing button over and over, his features contorted into a mad stare until the flames swallowed him.

By the time investigators drilled through the vault door hours later, most of the bodies were unrecognizable. Those that remained in any form were charred black and continued to smolder. The facts as to what had happened were ambiguous, and always would be.

A woman, whom each investigative authority assumed worked for another, spent only enough time in the vault to linger over a body in the center. No one saw her smile as she lowered a hand to the corpse’s shoulder area. No one saw her remove the blackened gold stars which labeled the man a general in the Soviet army.

And then she was gone.

Chapter 35

SHERIFF JUNK HEEP
was kneeling over the body of Dog-ear McCluskey when he heard the footsteps shuffling toward him.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, almost managing a smile. “Now look who’s having trouble walkin’.”

McCracken stopped near him, grimacing with pain, covered with dirt and dust, flesh torn and scratched from face to ankles. He had just managed to avoid the brunt of the blast, pummeled by layers of rebellious debris that hadn’t joined the molten flow in the gulley. Gazing at the mound he saw the red translucence had now faded slightly, the generator complex’s tomb becoming almost crystalline black.

“Least you can do is help me back into town,” McCracken said lightly as a pair of silver jet fighters soared overhead. His eyes turned to an army convoy on the access road leading into town. “Looks like we got company.”

“In more ways than one.” Heep gazed over McCracken’s shoulder at the dirty figure moving down toward them, a number of townspeople in his tracks. Heep rose all the way up. “Shit, that’s Hal Taggart’s boy.” The figure was closer now. “What’s left of him, anyway.”

The left side of the figure’s body was dragging noticeably behind the right. And the left half of his face was creased with scar tissue that covered even the eye.

“He was a marine in the Mideast,” Heep continued. “We all thought he died. Taggart told us so.”

“Apparently he came close.” McCracken had seen that kind of appearance before. There were parts of the young man’s brain that would never work again, others that were as good as ever. “Taggart must have brought him back here and hid him from the world.”

Heep managed another look. “After the bastards killed his father, the kid figured he’d take things into his own hands. Had those murdering shits guarding their own assholes when he started knocking ’em off one at a time.”

“Not to mention the fact that he saved our asses today. Must have been him on that rooftop.”

“Guess he brought more than memories back with him from the Mideast.”

McCracken shrugged at that and the motion sent a bolt of pain surging through him. Heep dragged himself over and started to lower himself under Blaine’s shoulder.

“Guess it’s my turn to do the helpin’,” he said, grimacing almost as much as McCracken was as they started forward.

“This oughtta be fun.”

McCracken approached the men climbing from the lead jeep by himself.

“You McCracken?” asked the one in charge.

Blaine nodded. “Wareagle send you?”

“Don’t know any Wareagle. My orders came straight from the Pentagon. Woulda been here sooner but had trouble arranging for proper air support,” the commander explained as the jets streaked overhead again. He gazed about him at the bodies strewn throughout the town, littered among the smoldering buildings. “Hell of a mess.”

“You missed the action.”

“Looks like you had matters well in hand without us.”

Blaine thought of Dog-ear McCluskey and of the son of Hal Taggart. “You might say that,” he returned distantly. “You in touch with Washington, Commander?”

“Open line.”

“You made my day.”

“I think the time has finally come for me to retire to the woods too, Indian, or at least to some lonely island somewhere,” Blaine told Wareagle as they strolled down the mall fronting the Washington Monument.

“That was forced upon you once already, Blainey. The five years in France. Remember?”

“And every day I prayed to be let back in, to be a part of things again.”

“And you think this time the same prayers would not come?”

“I think this time I’d be praying to be left alone.”

Wareagle stopped and gazed down at him. “No, Blainey. You can close your eyes during the day but the light remains. And sooner or later you must open your eyes again and face that.”

“I wasn’t talking about myself, Indian. It’s the others I’m fed up with, the mindless ones for whom day and night don’t exist, for whom it’s always dusk because that way there’s no firm commitment in any direction.”

“They exist to remind us of our own failings, to keep us in touch with what is pure and holy so we never take the words of the spirits for granted.”

“That doesn’t justify the way they handle things, or mishandle them.”

“I didn’t mean it to. Actions are their own justifications, Blainey. Do not search for that which does not exist because then you become no better than them.”

“That’s the point, Indian. I already am no better than the others because I’ve been a part of this too long. What I did needed to be done, right? My private justification.”

Wareagle touched his shoulder tenderly. “Blainey, you see others in the shadow of your own reflection, believe their concerns for completion to be the same as your own. You expect their manitous to reflect the same colors yours does, and now you find that many reflect nothing because they are black, colorless.”

“So what’s the point?”

“The universe exists in a delicate balance as much as each individual does. They cannot help what they are any more than you can help what you are. Each of you provides the other with balance, both needed to justify the actions of the other.”

“Then you’re saying I shouldn’t quit once we wrap this thing up, once it’s finished.”

“I’m saying that for you the finishing does not exist. Yes, maybe for this single affair but where this one leaves off another picks up. Extension follows extension, with the distinctions negligible.”

McCracken shook his head reflectively. “I got to Washington half-certain I was going to forget about my meeting with the President. I guess there is one last thing I’ve got to take care of.”

“At least,” said Wareagle.

“You’ll be happy to know the Farmer Boy business has been cleared up as well,” the President told Blaine as they sat at a wrought iron table in the Rose Garden with the Secret Service guards out of earshot. “George Kappel turned himself in when the outcome was final. Figured we might go easy on him that way.”

“And will you?”

“Not at all. My first inclination was to go public with everything, Kappel included. But I’m not certain the country can handle another travesty of government.”

“Might stop the next one from happening.”

“It hasn’t yet and won’t in the future. We hold our own, which is the best we can do because people are imperfect. This hasn’t been easy for me. George Kappel’s been my friend since I got elected to the House. He used me from the beginning. I guess that’s a microcosm of life.”

“Not life, Mr. President, just politics. But not mine, because I haven’t got any.” McCracken was silent for a while, then brought up the subject Lyman Scott was hesitant to broach. “I suppose you’re interested in the coordinates of the Atragon reserves I wasn’t able to bring up.”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Perish it. I’m going to give you those coordinates, Mr. President, but not for the reasons you think.”

“What, then?”

Blaine told him, making it fast.

“That’s impossible!” the President roared when he had finished.

“Amazing the miracles the Oval Office can work, though.”

Lyman Scott swallowed hard. “Think of the risks if we carry this madness out.”

“Think of the risks if we don’t,” Blaine returned, his meaning clear.

“Mr. McCracken, with further stores of Atragon in our possession, we need never face a threat like this again. We should have learned that from these past two weeks, if nothing else.”

“What we should have learned is that there are things in this world that are better left alone. I don’t pretend to know where Atragon really comes from, but I do know plenty more innocent people will die if I let you salvage it.” Then, after a pause, “We’re not ready to control its power yet. I’m not sure we’ll ever be.”

Lyman Scott nodded to himself. “I came into office committed to peace at any cost. That much hasn’t changed. What you say makes sense, Mr. McCracken. Something like Atragon, well, I’m not sure we could allow the Soviets to possess it either. If I agree to carry out your request, you’ll agree to sit on everything you’ve got, correct?”

“Absolutely. So long as you get what I need to Miami within twenty-four hours.”

“Twenty-four hours? Impossi—”

“I’m feeling generous today. Make it twenty-five.”

The navy ship docked in Biscayne Bay at the Port of Miami at noon the next day. Blaine had spent most of the morning watching a few cruise liners come in and out, overcome by their size but equally impressed by the small tugs which nudged and maneuvered their vast bulks at will. He leaned over the railing to support his battered frame. The pain was bad today, and he did his best to hide his many bandages from passersby, just wanting to be left alone.

He looked up to find Natalya by his side, looking solemn and somber.

“They tell you what this was about?” Blaine asked her.

“They told me. And they must have told you about Zurich.”

“Yup.”

“Then you must believe in the myth when it comes to the origin of those crystals. How else can you account for what happened in Raskowski’s command vault?”

“I leave the accounting to the scientists.”

“And let them explain things for which there is no explanation? No, with what you’ve convinced your government to do, you must believe!”

“In Atlantis you mean? Haven’t really thought about it much. I only know that those crystals Vasquez discovered and Raskowski almost blew up the world with are better buried forever.”

“The same lesson the Lost Continent—and Raskowski—learned. Both too late.”

“Maybe so,” Blaine conceded. “And I’ve learned a few things lately as well, like how to see the truth. I’ve been at this for fifteen years, and all I’ve seen are the lies. They’re everywhere around me and for all that time I mistook plenty of them for the truth. I haven’t helped the world out of its hopeless lot; I’ve just added to it by accepting other people’s truths, their myths, so maybe I’m the wrong person to speak with on the subject.”

Natalya shrugged. “I think we have fooled ourselves more than we have allowed ourselves to be fooled. So full are we with ideals and beliefs that helped us accomplish the impossible. Our governments turned to us because we were more than good; we were willing. And when we aren’t willing anymore, they have come to know us so well that it is not hard for them to make us willing again. My father, your romantic nature—if not these, there would be others.”

There was a pause when both of them turned their attention to the speedboats splashing through Biscayne Bay.

“What will you do now?” Blaine asked finally.

“Finally I have enough on them to get my father out,” she replied. “Only I will have to accept the fact that I too will never be able to return.”

“Does that bother you?”

“All my work these long years would be futile if it didn’t.” The pain was evident in her voice. “And what about you, Blaine McCracken?”

“I’m thinking about finding an island where no one else has ever been and staking a claim for a while.”

“Could be dangerous,” Natalya told him. “Much safer to explore in pairs.”

“That sounds like the truth to me,” Blaine smiled.

Epilogue

THE BOMB WAS SMALL
enough to be easily maneuverable underwater. The only problem arose when the navy ship proved too large to tempt the reefs, and the cylindrical device had to be loaded onto a motorboat and transported the last half mile to the coast of the nameless Bimini island. Another boat was required to get all the necessary equipment and personnel to the site. A third went along just in case either of these failed at some point during the journey.

The placing of the nuclear charge was totally according to McCracken’s specifications. He had drawn them a detailed map of the ocean floor and was careful to include all the wrecks he could recall from his dive. They had made good time from Miami, and the weather had cooperated brilliantly.

Blaine stood by Natalya on the deck, both of them watching the motorboats negotiate the reefs and reach their destination safely. It was up to the divers now, who surfaced forty minutes later flashing the thumbs-up sign. They returned to the ship at top speed, the weather still good and nothing to impede their dash for safety. The timing device had been set for six hours—more man enough time to be far out of range of the blast’s effects. The coming nuclear explosion would be extremely minor, but the consequences to immediate and surrounding waters nonetheless promised to be severe.