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Forty-Five
SOUTHWEST ASIA
The CIA's G-V had already reached a cruising altitude of 41,000 feet and left Afghanistan air space. There was no need for Rapp to bring all the files and maps with him. Everything had already been scanned and placed on a disk. He did, however, bring two of the three prisoners and enough morphine to keep an entire crack house happy for a couple days. He'd taken Waheed Abdullah and Ahmed Khalili, the young man from Karachi. Both were currently bound, sedated, and sleeping. It appeared the third prisoner was nothing more than a bodyguard, but Urda would nonetheless hold on to the man and see what he could get out of him.
Rapp had accomplished what he'd set out to do, and he saw no need to waste a second more than he had to in Southwest Asia. Especially with everything that was going on back in the States. The mere thought of someone like Mustafa al-Yamani loose on American soil was enough to drive him into a fit of rage, which he would gladly take out on Abdullah if he found out the Saudi had lied to him again.
For now he was stuck on hold, waiting for his boss to come on the line. He used the time to pull up the scanned documents on his laptop. Rapp planned on spending most of the long flight back to the States in search of any clue that would help him track down al-Yamani. He would also have to find the time to get a little shut-eye or he would be worthless when they landed.
Kennedy finally came on the line. "Mitch, anything new?"
"No. What's going on with the ships?"
Kennedy told him everything they'd learned since the last time they'd talked, and then she went on to quietly explain the dissention in the National Security Council over how things should be handled in Charleston.
Rapp groaned in frustration. "Irene, listen to me. We don't have a lot of time. I need you to cut through all the bullshit and call Skip directly." Rapp was referring to Skip McMahon, the director of the FBI's Counterterrorism Division. "Don't go through Director Roach don't even tell the president you're calling him. This thing is about to blow, and I don't mean the bomb I mean the story, and once that happens these terrorists are going to be gone. Skip needs to get some agents to the ports and find out if anybody is waiting to pick up these containers. They might have people working at the docks."
"I was thinking the same thing."
"We're only going to get one chance at this, Irene, and then they're going to be scared off. We need to track the shipments all the way to their final destination and uncover these cells."
"I'll call him right now."
Rapp heard a voice in the background and Kennedy said, "Let me call you back in a minute."
REIMER'S VOICE ONCEagain filled the room from the overhead speakers, but this time there was something noticeably different about it. Homeland Security Secretary McClellan was the only one in the conference room at the Mount Weather site. Treasury Secretary Keane had gone off to speak to the chairman of the New York Stock Exchange, and Vice President Baxter was off licking his wounds somewhere. General Flood and Secretary of Defense Culbertson were busy handling the situation with the other three ships. So that left the president, Chief of Staff Jones, CIA Director Kennedy, Secretary of State Berg, and National Security Advisor Haik.
Upon hearing Reimer's voice, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him on the screen.
Reimer's no-nonsense scowl had been replaced with a bit of a grin. "Mr. President, I have some good news to report."
"By all means, let's hear it."
"We've X-rayed the container and believe the device in question to be a naked physics package."
The term was lost on President Hayes, but he assumed by the broad grin on Reimer's usually dour face, that there was something positive in this discovery. "Mr. Reimer, I have no idea what a naked physics package is, but since this is the first time I've seen you smile all morning, I'm going to assume that in this case, naked is better than fully clothed."
"You sure could say that, Mr. President," Reimer laughed.
"So what exactly is a naked physics package?"
"Sir, it's essentially," Reimer held his hands up to form a circle, "a sphere of weapons-grade nuclear material minus the fire set and explosive material that are used to trigger the implosion."
Hayes thought he followed it. "So this thing is basically the core to a nuclear bomb and nothing else."
"For the most part that is correct, sir."
"So it can't go off."
Reimer thought of explaining the one exception, but the odds of it happening were so small it wasn't worth getting into. "Without the explosives and fire set, sir, there is no way for it to reach any measurable yield."
"So we're in the clear?" asked Valerie Jones.
"That's correct. The nuclear material, as it sits, is no real threat to the city of Charleston."
The room burst into celebration over the good news. There were sighs of relief, nervous laughter, and even a few hugs. The president and the others on the council congratulated Reimer and his people on a job well done. After just a minute things settled down, and Hayes was about to ask Reimer a question when the door to the conference room opened. One of Valerie Jones's people entered the room and walked briskly to the chief of staff's side.
Jones listened for only a second and then grabbed the phone in front of her. She stabbed her forefinger at the blinking red light and said, "Tim." She listened intensely for a full ten seconds. Several times she tried and failed to cut the other person off. Finally she said, "Tim, I get the picture. Have him in your office in fifteen minutes. Tell him I'll talk to him directly."