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U.S. Military Reserve, Hawai‘i

Brett and the Cutlers arrived at the conference room next to Rivers’s office about fifteen minutes after the general and Mac did; Jenny and Rick Ozaki came in right after. The Cutlers had been in the air when Rivers had the base contact them, in another army helicopter, pinpointing the lava tubes that they wanted hit.

“So where’s the fire?” Rick asked, trying—and failing—to sound casual. The time for that was long past, and they all knew it.

“The Galápagos Islands,” Rivers said. “There has been what our people are calling a major event at the Wolf Volcano there.”

Rivers put on his reading glasses and picked up the top sheet of the stack of printouts in front of him. “I got the call on it about forty-five minutes ago from Baltra, our air base there,” he continued.

Mac knew a lot about the Galápagos Islands, had made several visits to the volcanic archipelago six hundred miles off the coast of Ecuador. The cluster of small islands exhibited almost constant seismic activity. Three years ago, he had spent more than a month there when Wolf Volcano—Volcán Wolf, to the locals—had erupted for the first time in seven years, emitting rivers of fiery orange lava that were visible from space.

He had heard a prediction a few weeks ago about a possible event at the Galápagos Islands’ largest and tallest volcano. But his focus since then had been here on the Big Island, the intense and all-consuming task at Mauna Loa.

“The good old Galápagos Islands,” Jenny Kimura said. “Known for great big volcanoes, great big tortoises, and good old Charles Darwin.”

Mac grinned. Sometimes he wondered how things would be between them when the world was normal again. If it ever did return to normal.

“Okay, let’s focus, people,” Rivers said. “The last time the Wolf Volcano erupted was three years ago, and the ash blew out over the Pacific for fifty miles or so. Now it’s happened again. It wasn’t unexpected—the signs have apparently been there—but no one anticipated it would have this much force, with lava emerging from at least three fissures on the eastern and southeastern slopes flowing through tubes and burning shrubs and grasses in its path.”

If not for the situation here, Mac would have been in constant contact with the volcanologists and the people at Baltra, some of whom he’d met during the 2022 eruption. Maybe he’d have been on his way there. “They’re controlling it for now,” Rivers said, “or as much as you can control something like this.”

“Interesting,” Brett said. “But what does what’s happening there have to do with what’s happening here?”

“They’re using the military to combat it there, from the air and from the sea,” Rivers said.

“Wait,” Mac said. “From the sea?”

Rivers tented his fingers underneath his chin and turned to face him. “They’ve brought in Zumwalt-class destroyers,” Rivers said.

“Battleships,” Mac said.

“Preparing to fire short-range ballistic missiles from where they sit in the Pacific, directly targeting the lava tubes with the most modern precision available.”

“So they’re trying to bomb their volcano back to the Stone Age,” Brett said.

“They are,” Rivers said.

“Thankfully, the eruption is happening on the opposite side of the mountain from where the endangered pink iguanas live,” Jenny said.

“And they think this will work?” Mac asked. “As far as I know, missiles have never been used to attack volcanoes.”

“They’re about to find out if they work,” Rivers said, “most likely before the day is out. Which is why I want our people there when the balloon goes up, as we like to say.”

“Leah and I can go!” Oliver Cutler said, eagerly raising his hand like a kid in class who thinks he has the right answer.

“Anxious to get off our big little island?” Rivers asked.

“No, sir,” Cutler said quickly. “My wife and I have never run from trouble. We just want to show you, despite your misgivings about us and what you see as our grandstanding, that we’re willing to do anything that helps the cause.”

Rivers turned to Mac. “Who do you think should go, Dr. MacGregor?”

Mac didn’t hesitate. “Jenny and Rick.”

Rivers said, “Any reason why you think that?”

“Because they’re smart, they’re brave, and if they see something flawed in the army plan there, they won’t bullshit you, General. Or waste time we don’t have.”

“Are you okay with a mission like this, Dr. Kimura?” Rivers asked Jenny.

“If Mac is, I am,” she said.

“Then I’ll arrange a plane,” Rivers said.

Mac said, “Small problem, sir. I’ve made that trip more than once. The Galápagos Islands are forty-five hundred miles from here. That’s at least eight hours by plane, even with a tailwind.”

“Not my plane,” J. P. Brett said.