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Authors: Nelson DeMille

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BOOK: Wild Fire
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Landsdale asked, “Can you trust these guys?”

“They’ve been with me for a long time, and they’re all former military. They follow orders.”

“Will they be told when to leave their rooms?”

Madox replied, “Unfortunately, they’ll still be in the rooms when the suitcases detonate. Obviously, they don’t know what’s in the suitcases, but they know the contents are valuable and can’t be left unattended.”

Harry Muller listened to all this. He’d lost track of the body count a while ago, but he knew his chances of getting out of there alive just dropped a few more points below zero.

He stretched his ankle shackles, then pushed his foot down on the chain. He realized he wasn’t going to break the shackles, but his hands were free, and assuming none of these men were armed, maybe he could break out. Harry glanced furtively at the door, then the curtained windows.

Madox noticed and said to him, “Are we boring you? Do you have someplace to go?”

Harry replied, “Fuck you.”

Paul Dunn said, “Bain, we don’t need him here any longer, if we ever did.”

Madox replied, “I’m afraid this is the best place for Mr. Muller for now. We don’t want him speaking to the guards and upsetting them with crazy talk about nuclear bombs.” He looked at Muller, then said to the others, “I have a sedative on the way here. Mr. Muller needs to be asleep until Tuesday.”

No one responded, except Harry, who said to the other four men, “This bastard is going to kill me. You understand that?”

No one spoke, or looked at Harry, except Scott Landsdale, who patted Harry on the shoulder. “No one is going to hurt you.”

Harry pushed Landsdale’s arm away and snapped, “You’re all fucking murderers.”

Madox interjected, “Harry, you’re getting yourself worked up for no reason. Maybe you need that sedative now. Or do you want to shut up and hear the rest of this?”

Harry didn’t answer, and Madox said to his Board, “As I was saying, the pilots and co-pilots will remain at their posts, and sometime on Tuesday, when Paul tells me the president and first lady are dining in the White House, I’ll activate the ELF transmitter here and send the coded radio signal that will detonate all four nuclear devices.” He continued, “By the time the president has finished his salad, he’ll have gotten the terrible news, and the clock will begin ticking toward Wild Fire as the president and the first lady are flown by helicopter to a secure destination.” He asked, “Are any of you designated to be evacuated with him?”

Paul Dunn replied, “I am, but only if I happen to be close by.”

“Well,” Madox observed, “you can’t be much closer than at the same dinner table.”

General Hawkins cleared his throat and said to Madox, “I know we once discussed the placement of the nuclear devices, but now that the time is here, I’d like to know specifically what you have in mind. You mentioned two cities, but we have four nuclear devices.”

Bain Madox said, “As I indicated, these are low-yield weapons, and perhaps not as reliable as we’d like. So, in consultation with Mikhail, the plan is to place two suitcases in each of two cities. This is so that if one doesn’t detonate, we still have the other to rely on. If both detonate at maximum yield, we have a nicer explosion.”

He looked around the table and continued, “So for instance, if we pick, say, San Francisco as one city, then the pilot checks into one hotel with one suitcase, and the co-pilot checks into another nearby hotel with the other suitcase. Now we have two ground zeros, which will be within the total destruction radius of each other so that if only one device goes off, it will obliterate the hotel of the other. This is important so that afterward an unexploded suitcase—and a stunned pilot—are not found in a hotel room that can be traced back to . . . well, me. In other words, one explosion will destroy the evidence of a possible dud bomb—and the pilot—in another location. If neither device detonates, then I will call my pilots with further instructions.”

General Hawkins asked, “How reliable, exactly, are those devices?”

Madox replied, “Mikhail has assured me that each device is over ninety percent reliable as to detonation. Regarding their maximum design yield, we won’t know until they detonate.” He explained, “As I said, they’re old—about 1977 vintage—and because they’re mini-nukes, they’re actually more sophisticated and complex than, say, a one-megaton atomic warhead. But they have been maintained by Mikhail, who tells me the design is good, and the detonating device and plutonium core are in excellent condition.”

General Hawkins commented, “Weapons, especially nuclear weapons, are the one area in which the Soviets excelled.” He smiled and added, “During the Cold War, we used to joke that we didn’t have to worry about Soviet suitcase nuclear bombs because the Soviets didn’t have the technology to build a suitcase.”

A few men chuckled, and Madox glanced at the suitcase. “It
does
look a little ratty.” He laughed, then stared at each man. “And now, perhaps the most difficult decision we need to make—one that we’ve never really discussed in any detail—but the time has come. What two American cities need to be sacrificed so that America and the world will be free of Islamic terror? Gentlemen?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

B
ain Madox hit a button on his console, and the map on the screen changed from the world of Islam to a map of the United States. He said, “Forget that you are Americans. Put yourselves into the mind of an Islamic terrorist. You are able to destroy two American cities. Which two will most please Allah?”

Madox lit a cigarette and watched the smoke rise in front of the illuminated map of the United States.

He said, “Well, then, I’ll begin. If I were an Islamic terrorist, my first and second choices would be New York and Washington.
Again
. But I’m not really an Islamic terrorist, so Washington is not on our list. And New York will not be on our list either because of the stock exchanges, and its vital importance to the world economy, plus the fact that I believe we all—including Mr. Muller—have friends and family in the New York area.”

Landsdale said, “And don’t forget your Park Avenue apartment, Bain.”

“Scott, I have many assets in many cities. That’s not a consideration. The only thing we will consider are loved ones in the cities which we target. If necessary, we may need to get some people out of a targeted city on some pretext. But we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”

Landsdale inquired, “Where does your ex-wife live?”

Madox replied in an annoyed tone, “Palm Beach. Not a likely Islamic target for nuclear destruction.”

Landsdale smiled and pointed out, “If I was paying
your
alimony, I could make a strong case for it.”

Madox said, “All right, I think we need to remove
all
East Coast cities from the potential target list. A nuclear detonation in any city along the Boston-Baltimore corridor would have serious consequences for the national economy, which is something we need to avoid. On the other hand, as I said, we need to give the illusion that this is an Islamic attack.”

Harry Muller listened as the five men spoke about what two American cities were to be nuked. As they got into it, they started to sound like businessmen thinking of closing a plant in one city or another. This was so unreal that Harry himself began to forget what they were actually talking about.

Bain Madox said, “I think we have to seriously consider Detroit. The city is dead anyway, it has a large Muslim population, and it’s right next to Canada, which has become a pacifist and socialist pain in our ass. This might be a good signal to send to our Canadian allies.”

Edward Wolffer responded, “Detroit may be high on
our
list, but for the reasons you just pointed out, Bain, it would not be high on the list of any Islamic terrorist group.”

“I know, but it’s such a tempting target.”

Landsdale reminded him, “Think like a Muslim terrorist. I say Miami, with its large Jewish population. The city has some economic importance as a port and a tourist destination, but we can do without it. Also, we can make a preemptory strike against some of those confused electoral votes, before the next election.”

Someone laughed, then Paul Dunn said, “There’s a large Cuban population in Miami that is very supportive of . . . some of the administration’s policies. They’ll be helpful when we address the Cuba problem.”

Everyone nodded, and General Hawkins suggested, “Disney World. Haven’t there been Islamic threats against Disney World?” He looked around the quiet table and continued, “It’s a perfect target. No industry, no vital economic or military value. Far from the population centers . . .”

Bain Madox stared at General Hawkins. “Are you suggesting that we kill Mickey Mouse?”

Everyone laughed.

Madox continued, “Minnie, Goofy . . . who else? Jim, that’s just . . . cruel. Not to mention the children.” He added, “We’re not monsters.”

Harry Muller wasn’t too sure about that. Yet, these guys didn’t fit his criminal profile of psychopaths, sociopaths, or just plain crazy and violent men. It began to dawn on Harry that these guys were mostly normal, educated, and successful guys with good jobs, families, friends, and people who looked up to them. The closest he could come to getting a handle on these guys was to compare them to Irish Republican Army men he’d had dealings with. Mostly normal, but filled with hate and all charged up for their cause. So, nothing they did was wrong—like the IRA guy he’d interrogated once who ordered a tuna fish sandwich for lunch because it was Friday during Lent. And back in Belfast, he’d shot two policemen in cold blood. Guys like this were scarier than street criminals.

Bain Madox was speaking. “Chicago is also too vital to the U.S. economy, and it has no special significance to an Islamic terrorist. Look, let’s cut to the chase. I have three excellent candidates—Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Las Vegas. Sodom, Gomorrah, and . . . what?”

Landsdale said helpfully, “Babylon.”

“Thank you. First, San Francisco. Some economic importance, but that’s outweighed by the fact that this city is a festering, pus-filled boil on the ass of America. A left-wing loony hotbed of sexual deviancy, anti-American values, political correctness, defeatism, and pacifistic appeasement.”

Landsdale said, “Why don’t you tell us what you really think of San Francisco?”

Madox ignored him and asked, “Can anyone here make a case for
not
putting San Francisco on the target list?”

Edward Wolffer replied, “Well, I can. For one thing, my daughter lives there, though I can get her to fly out tomorrow on the pretext of an illness in the family. But also, it’s a . . . well, an architecturally beautiful city. And I think, in the new America, San Francisco can either be redeemed or, if not, just looked at as a curiosity—sort of a social laboratory. It would be interesting to see how that city reacts to two other American cities being destroyed, followed by the destruction of much of the Islamic world.”

Everyone thought about that, then Madox said, “I’m not interested in their reaction or redemption. I’m more interested in their vaporization.”

Paul Dunn warned, “That’s a very egotistical and prejudiced attitude, Bain. This is not about your personal opinion of San Francisco, which would not be a high-priority target for Islamic extremists. There have been no specific threats against that city—”

“Why should there be?” snapped Madox. “If I were an Islamic terrorist, or a Marxist, or Osama bin Laden himself, the last place in the world I’d threaten is the friendly city of San Francisco.”

“That,” said Wolffer, “is exactly why this city should
not
be a target.”

Madox seemed irritated that his own arguments were being turned against him, and he slapped his hand on the table and said, “San Francisco goes on the short list.”

Landsdale asked, “Bain, are you chairing this meeting, or taking it over?”

Madox took a deep breath and replied, “I apologize for my management style. But this isn’t a government committee. It’s an Executive Board meeting that needs to make some quick, hard, and final decisions. Your contributions are valuable, and your actions on Tuesday will be invaluable to the success of Wild Fire. While I need a consensus, we also need direction and clarity.” He added, “As Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, ‘The most common form of human stupidity is forgetting what one is trying to do.’”

Landsdale said, “Thank you. I think we know what we’re trying to do—start a one-sided nuclear war by giving the illusion that we were attacked. This shouldn’t be too difficult.” He added, “If you recall, many people in Sandland accused us of attacking the World Trade Center and the Pentagon so we could retaliate against them. They get the concept, even if they were wrong that time. This time, they’re going to be right. But we need to pick the targets that are just right so that hopefully no one—at least for a few hours—will believe that we did this to ourselves so that we could do it to them. So, let’s be rational and smart about the targets.” He smiled. “That’s what Nietzsche would say.”

Bain Madox ignored this and continued, “The next two cities to consider are Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Let’s look at LA first. It’s an economic powerhouse, but the city is so huge that I don’t think two five-kiloton nuclear devices will cause much more damage or dislocation than one of their periodic earthquakes or riots. Therefore, I’d like to specifically target the area of Hollywood and Beverly Hills. Do I need to give my reasons?”

General Hawkins said, “I think we’re all on the same page with this one.”

Madox nodded. “And keep in mind that there have been very specific threats and public statements made by the Islamic jihadists against Hollywood. They seem to think the place is a cesspool of moral corruption. That’s not very liberal minded, and I’m embarrassed to admit I agree with them.”

A few men chuckled.

Madox glanced at a note on the table and said, “A gentleman named Suleiman Abu Ghaith, an official spokesman for bin Laden, has said, quote, ‘America, with the collaboration of the Jews, is the leader of corruption and the breakdown of values, whether moral, ideological, political, or economic corruption. It disseminates abomination and licentiousness among people by way of the cheap media.” Madox added, “There may be something lost in the translation, but I believe he was speaking of Hollywood.”

Again, there were a few chuckles.

Madox hit some keys on his console, and a map of Los Angeles appeared on the screen. He said, “This is a sprawling urban area, and if we focus in on Hollywood”—he enlarged a section of the map and continued—“and nearby Beverly Hills, we see that the blast radius of our two nukes would barely overlap. Which presents the problem of this getting back to us if one of the nukes doesn’t go off. But I believe we need to take a risk here because the rewards are so great.”

Paul Dunn spoke. “Somehow, I think this
will
get back to us, one way or another. Bain, we’ll have one or two ground zeros that can be identified as hotels, and sometime down the road, the FBI will obtain a list of everyone who was staying at those hotels. Eventually, the guest lists of those four hotels will reveal the names of your four pilots, and further investigation will reveal their flight plans and landings at the airports of those cities. I don’t believe the FBI—or the CIA—is going to think this was a coincidence.”

Madox thought a moment, then looked at Harry Muller. “Harry, what do you think?”

“I think you’re out of your fucking minds.”

“We know that. I’m looking for a professional opinion.” He added, “Please.”

Harry hesitated, then said, “If I were working the case, it would take me less than a week to put all this together. You start with the scene of the crime—the hotels that are ID’d as ground zero—then you go to the guest lists kept on a reservation computer someplace else, then you work the lists twenty-four-seven, until something starts to connect.”

Madox asked, “Would it make a difference if my pilots check into the hotels with false names and bogus credit cards?”

“Yeah . . . but—”

“Well, that’s the plan, Harry. That’s the plan, Paul. I’m not that stupid.”

Harry, trying to introduce some element of doubt, asked, “Is it a coincidence that you have two aircraft in the cities that are nuked, and that you’re missing four pilots after the attacks?”

“Do you know how many coincidences there were in the Twin Towers?” Madox replied. “The risk, if any, of this being traced back to us, with a million dead, is insignificant and acceptable. And you know what? If the FBI does come knocking on my door, they’ll probably be there to congratulate me.”

Harry replied, “You'll all end up in jail.”

Madox ignored that and continued, “And if the FBI, or anyone in the government, concludes that the Custer Hill Club had something to do with these attacks on America that led to the launch of Wild Fire, do you think they’re going to announce this to the world? What will they say? ‘Sorry, we made a little boo-boo.’ Followed, of course, by an expression of regret for the two hundred million dead Muslims, and a sincere apology to the shell-shocked survivors, along with a promise that it won’t happen again.”

That seemed to make sense to everyone, and Madox said, “Let’s continue. I’ve done some work on targeting Los Angeles, and I’ve determined that the best hotels for the pilot and co-pilot to check into would be the Beverly Wilshire in Beverly Hills and the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.” He explained, “I will reserve a room for them in each hotel with a bogus credit card, and request a room on the highest floor, which offers the best view and, not incidentally, the best altitude for detonation. Also, the higher up you go, the less likely it will be for a roving NEST team to pick up any gamma rays or ambient neutrons.” He looked at Harry and asked, “Correct?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Bain. The NEST teams are useless anyway. Remember?”

Landsdale laughed, but no one else did.

Madox seemed about to say something unpleasant to Harry, but instead he continued, “If I calculate correctly, and if the nukes yield their maximum power, the rings of destruction should overlap. The area of complete and partial destruction in Beverly Hills will rid us of a good number of untalented movie stars, overpaid studio executives, and various other limousine liberals.” He asked, rhetorically, “How good is
that
?”

Landsdale commented, “I hope Demi Moore doesn’t live in the area.”

“I’ll get you a Hollywood star map, Scott. Okay, the second area of destruction, Hollywood, encompasses several moviemaking facilities, including Paramount Studios, Warner Studios, as well as the ABC-TV studio. And as an extra bonus, we get the headquarters of the Screen Actors Guild.” Madox said, “I think we’ll all be watching old DVDs and reruns for a while.”

A few men smiled politely.

Paul Dunn said, “Los Angeles is one of the most vitally important cities in the country, with a metro area population of over fifteen million people. If you detonate two nuclear devices to destroy Hollywood and Beverly Hills, it will cause chaos and panic in the city. Millions of people will attempt to flee, and the results will be catastrophic.”

Madox replied, “Paul, you put a pessimistic spin on everything. Be positive. Think of this as solving the problem of undocumented aliens. They all know which way Mexico is.”

BOOK: Wild Fire
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