Page 73 of Enemy Within
Again, everyone looked to Sergey. He’d gone pale, ghostly white, and his eyes bulged, shock pouring from him. “Nampizdets,” he breathed.
“What is it?” Jack growled. “Sergey, what is under that ice?”
Sergey struggled to meet Jack’s gaze. His eyes bounced over the Conn and finally settled on the map, on the red circles in the ice. He read the coordinates again, whispering the longitude and latitude. “Itisa sub,” he finally grunted, “named K-27. Illegally scuttled in the eighties in shallow water off the coast of that island.” He pointed to Novaya Zemlya, a finger of ice-covered land curving into the frozen Kara Sea. “Its reactor is still live. It can be brought back online. Or worse.”
“Worse?” Anderson stared hard at Sergey.
“The right technician can restart the nuclear reactor,” Sergey said, choosing his words. “And then they can take it further. Turn the reactor critical.”
“A nuclear reactor on a naval submarine can be weaponized,” Anderson said carefully.
Sergey held one hand to his gaunt face. “Yes. Naval reactors, in your nation and mine, use highly enriched uranium. Bomb-grade uranium. The most powerful of which was put into this sub, into K-27. But it couldn’t be controlled. Could not be contained. There were many accidents. Many people died. That is why the sub was scuttled. It was too dangerous when it was operational. Now? After degrading on the ocean floor for decades?” Sergey scoffed. “If Madigan is going after this, he can get his hands on a nuclear weapon many times the size of the bomb you dropped on Japan.”
Silence.
“That’s how he’s going to do it,” Jack finally said. “That’s how he’s going to ignite the gas cloud permeating the atmosphere. A nuclear blast at ground zero. Fallout will spread around the globe. He’s going to triple his devastation, make it nuclear.” Jack snorted. “No simple ignition for him. And his fingerprints will be erased. He can shift the blame.” Jack jerked his chin to Sergey. “To Russia, or someone else, and say they sent the planet back to the stone age. It’s exactly what he wants. He can still be the hero of wastes afterward. King of the ashes of the world.”
“But he’s up there.” Scott frowned. “Why would he blow the world and stand next to the blast? Won’t he be cooked when the sky ignites?”
“The one area that’s safe from his disbursement into the jet streamisthe Arctic.” Anderson called up another screen, showing the growing fuchsia cloud stretching around half the globe. The Arctic and the ice pack north of Madigan’s base were clear. “And if he’s got a Russian SSBN, with his own crew loyal to the cause,” Anderson said, tapping the map and the dark sail sticking up through the polar ice cap, “then he can just go under the ice and wait for the fallout. Come out by Iceland or Alaska. Kick-start his new world order wherever he wants.”
“All right.” Jack met everyone’s gaze, one by one. “Now we know: this is how he’s going to do it. He’ll blow when he’s able to get K-27 up from the sea floor and weaponize the reactor. He’s had a week’s head start.” He swallowed. “Our job is to stop him. If K-27 is still on the bottom of the ocean, it stays there. If he’s got her up, the reactor stays cold. If he’s got it online, we shut it down. No matter what. We take him out. This is how we stop Madigan. This is how we save the world.”
29
Washington DC
LEVI AND PRESIDENT WALL ducked out of the Oval Office and headed down to the Situation Room, their heads together as they talked fast and low, as if sharing national secrets.
Welby stared them down, watching every single step. What was going on? What were they hiding?
Time to find out.
He ducked into the Oval Office, waving to the president’s secretary, Mrs. Martin, as he entered. He waved a manila folder as he pushed open the door. “Got to drop off a new brief.”
Mrs. Martin didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Have a good day, Agent Welby,” she said, as he entered the silent, empty Oval Office.
He took a few steps in and swallowed. The power of the office still stopped him in his tracks, even now, years after he’d become an agent. The fate of the world had been shaped within these curved walls, so many times over. For good or for ill, decisions had been made by men and women in this office that had impacted the lives of billions. He took a shaky breath.
What he was about to do was treasonous.
His stomach had burned a hole through itself, and he’d tied himself in knots, agonizing through the long hours of the day and night. They needed answers.
But he’d never crossed this line before.
Damn it, he needed to move, and fast. He was already on borrowed time.
Welby headed for the Resolute desk and started pulling out drawers. Nothing worthwhile in the top two. Notepads and folders, pens and sticky notes. A candy bar. A card, from Ethan to Jack, something sappy and silly at the same time. He put it back, carefully.
His thumbprint opened both of the locked lower drawers, and he held his breath when he tugged them open. Dozens of file folders. The president’s laptop. Top Secret briefs.
And, another laptop, resting on top of a burned briefcase.
He hauled the briefcase out and set it on the desk. It was a wreck, soot-covered, torn on one side, and water-damaged. The handle had been ripped off. Both locks were broken.
Perfect.
Inside, most of the papers were damaged, burned on the edges, or blackened with smoke and soot. Debris filled the inside of the case, gravel and dust. Blood stained one corner. The briefcase had sat in a pool of blood and soaked up enough of it to make Welby look away from the rust-drenched corner.
