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"He was sure that only one of theunexploded atomic demolition munitions was missing."
"What are you trying to say?"
"There's dozens of duds buried under the ground on that test range. Everything from demolition munitions to the big megaton weapons designed for intercontinental ballistic missiles."
"The city killers?" Rapp asked in shock.
Reimer nodded but said, "I don't see how they could have dug one of them up. We buried those things miles underground when we tested them. I'm sure the Russians did the same. It would take a pretty big operation to go after one of them."
"Does your Russian friend know about this?"
"Yeah, I already talked to him. He agreed with what I just told you so they're shifting their search over to a part of the range where they tested some of the smaller warheads for cruise missile and torpedo designs."
McMahon hung up the phone shaking his head. "The Atlanta office already knew about it, and have two agents on the way. This damn bureaucracy. We can't even communicate within our own organizations. What are we going to do when DHS gets involved in this?"
"Once that happens we're screwed," Reimer said. "They'll want to start locking down cities, and evacuating people, and in the process all they're going to do is get in the way. I've already got one of my Search Response Teams on the way to Richmond. I think we've got a real shot at finding this thing. If that truck driver died from the exposure he got from this device while it was sitting in the trailer behind him, it's got to be pretty damn hot. That means my people should be able to get a bead on it."
"What if somehow they got around this manhunt and are in the city?" Rapp asked. "You know there's a state dinner tonight."
Reimer shook his head confidently. "They'd never get it past the portal sensors. The entire city is ringed with them, and we're tied into the traffic cameras. The slightest whiff and we're on them like that." Reimer snapped his fingers.
"I sure hope you're right," Rapp said.
McMahon was a bit more hesitant. "I don't know, Paul. We've got the whole continuity of government thing to consider."
Reimer frowned. "You saw what happened earlier in the week. One little hint that the leaders had been evacuated from the city, and the press was on the story like hyenas on a half-rotted carcass. We pull him out of that state dinner right now, it'll be all over the news, and then what's to stop these terrorists from simply blowing up Richmond or Norfolk? Fifty thousand people is fifty thousand people whether it's up here or down there."
"I know, but we're talking about the president and key cabinet members and the leaders of the House and Senate."
"The vice president is out in California," Reimer began ticking names off one finger at a time. "The secretary of the treasury is in Colorado, the president pro tem of the Senate is in Kentucky, most of the Supreme Court is out of town, and almost all of the Senate and House are gone. It's a holiday weekend. We have de-facto continuity in place."
"But we're talking about the president and the secretary of state, secretary of defense, the leaders of the House and Senate and the damn leaders of Great Britain and Russia."
"I know that, but I'm telling you if we evacuate them, the press will report it, and the terrorists will find out, and once they do that, why risk coming to Washington when they've all flown the coop? Add to that the likely panic by the public, and my people have almost no chance of finding this device. The terrorists will just blow the damn thing."
Rapp thought of something Ahmed Khalili had told him during his interrogation-that they planned on killing the president. "Paul's right. They want the president, and if they know they can't get him, they'll just kill as many people as they can."
"And if they manage to get this thing into Washington and end up killing the leaders of America, Great Britain, and Russia?"
Rapp shrugged. "At least there won't be any more ambivalence about the war on terror."
McMahon looked at his friend from the CIA and frowned.
Rapp reached out and nudged his shoulder. "Relax this state dinner isn't going to last all night. As soon as it's over I'll make sure that the president is very quietly taken back to Camp David and if we don't find this thing by noon tomorrow he won't be coming back for the dedication."
McMahon thought about it for a moment and somewhat reluctantly said, "All right, I'll go along with it, but there's something else I think we should do." McMahon looked at Rapp. "Something I think you'll have no problem agreeing to."
* * *
Seventy-Four
VIRGINIA
He wanted to kill the scientist, but at the moment did not possess the strength to do so. Al-Yamani was on the couch in the living room resting. The disease was in its final stage. The weakness, fatigue, and nausea were nearly constant. No matter how much water he tried to drink it could not soothe his parched and swollen mouth. His throat ached and his nose, gums, and rectum had begun to bleed. Several open sores were now visible on his forearms, and his top layer of skin had begun to slough off. Part of him, the weak part, wanted to simply fall asleep and never wake up. But that could not be allowed to happen.
For too many nights to remember, a beautiful vision had come to him in his sleep. He always sailed around the same river bend from left to right. The sky was a glorious clear blue, with not a cloud in sight. Boats large and small, some with sails and some with engines, were everywhere. Large groups of people were gathered on the river bank. The mood was festive, and beyond the tree-lined banks he could see the alabaster domes and spires of a great city. The capital of his enemy. That was his destiny. That was why he was fighting to stay alive for just one more day. He wanted to come around that bend in the river, he wanted to look on the unsuspecting faces of the nonbelievers, he wanted to sail right into the very heart of them and ignite a jihad that would show the true believers the path.
Hasan and Khaled would have to be his strength. That was why he had allowed the weak scientist to order them around. When they had finished assembling the weapon, and stored it on the boat, Zubair had made them strip naked in the yard while he hosed them down with water. Using a rake Zubair had then collected their clothes and thrown them behind the garage. Then the little Pakistani had marched them into the house and forced them to take long showers and scrub themselves with soap. Unbeknownst to Zubair, his efforts to prolong the lives of his fellow Muslims would be for nought.