JANUARY 20
3:40 P.M.
THEY HAD FIFTY MINUTES.
Murray’s proposed escape route was the vertical air shaft, which ran up the center of the mine, paralleling the elevator shaft. Barely three feet wide, it was connected to a powerful fan at the surface. A kind of return air duct, it was designed to suck stale air from the mine.
Murray would go first, wedging his back and legs against opposite walls of the air shaft. Slowly, a few inches at a time, he would “walk” his way up the sides. The elevator cage was one level up, a distance of about a hundred feet.
When he got to the top, he’d lower a rope for the others and help pull them up. “I’m not trying to fool anybody. This is going to be tough,” Murray said. “If you slip, you fall. It’s that simple. And if you fall and break something, you’re dead. The trick is to concentrate. Think ahead every time you move your arms and legs. Try to mentally visualize what you’re going to do. Think it through before you do it. Don’t rely on the rope. And don’t rush it.”
Murray checked his gas meter. The CO levels continued to hover at the danger mark, nearly fifty parts per million. The methane levels had fallen off some after the fire and explosions, but were starting to inch up again. They were back over the redline, reading nearly 7 percent.
“Keep track of the time,” Murray said, hooking a coil of rope in his belt. “The clock’s really running down on us. We got to bust it, folks.”
A sharp tremor jolted them, another strong shake. Fragments of the tunnel’s roof fell. Everyone instinctively dropped into a crouch position, covering their heads with their arms. The quake lasted only three or four seconds but was stronger than some of the others.
The sound came from far below them, a loud cracking noise that reverberated through the mine. Atkins was sure it was rock fracturing at great depth. The fault was continuing to slip, continuing to build toward a final rupture.
“They’re coming more often,” Elizabeth said. She didn’t say the rest of it—that the tremors were also building in strength. She wondered how much more shaking the mine could stand before the tunnels collapsed on themselves.
Atkins and Booker helped boost Murray up into the shaft, which was cut into the roof of the tunnel. He got his back and legs in position in the cramped space and started up the rough rock walls, bracing himself hard with his feet and shoulders. He’d trained to do this very maneuver dozens of times. This was the first he’d ever tried it in a mine. He kept repeating to himself the advice he’d given the others: concentrate on every move, think it through from start to finish.
It took nearly fifteen minutes for him to climb to Level 8. He was pouring sweat when he pulled himself out of the shaft. Kneeling on the floor of the tunnel, his chest heaving from his exertions, he took a look at the elevator cage less than ten yards away. His heart sank.
“We’ve got a problem up here,” he shouted down to the others. “The cage won’t work. The cable’s snapped.”
NATHAN Ross was drinking a cup of hot coffee, trying to warm himself in the damp cold. The sun hadn’t taken any of the chill from the air. He had the collar of his jacket pulled up. His ears felt frozen.
Ross looked at his watch and frowned. They were cutting this awfully close.
Draper ran up and told him about the broken cable. Booker and the others were trapped far below ground.
“We’re lowering ropes to them,” he said.
“That bomb’s scheduled to blow in forty minutes,” said Phil Belleau. “Those people are down about eight hundred feet. We’ll never get them all up.”
“We’ll damn well try,” Ross said quietly as he walked to the elevator shack, where a squad of paratroopers had lowered two makeshift harnesses with basket-seats down the man shaft. The ropes were attached to cables that ran to hoists on the two helicopters. The big UH-60s that had remained at the mine.
“Mister President, I’ve got to insist you leave here,” said Belleau, not giving up. Ross was his sole responsibility. He was ready to force the issue if need be.
Ross ignored him. He was helping paratroopers carry more rope into the mine.
THERE was no changing Booker’s mind. Atkins saw it in his eyes, the frozen, unblinking stare.
“I’m sorry, John. You know what needs to be done as well as I do. We can’t risk any venting.”
The last tremor had done more than snap the cable to the elevator cage. Booker had carried a small instrument that monitored the fuse circuit in the non-1 detonating cord he’d run through the mine. The device showed several breaks. He’d arranged the charges to fire in sequence, relying on a network of low-voltage electric blasting caps with multi-second delays to touch off the detonator cord and the explosives. The caps were equipped with special shunts to prevent any sparking that might have ignited methane gas.
The breaks in the circuit, Booker figured, were undoubtedly caused by the fires and cave-ins or the repeated tremors. It was impossible to know exactly where they’d occurred. Booker had set up two detonation lines: one during the descent, the other as they climbed back up. He’d positioned the explosives where they’d be most likely to collapse the shafts.
Atkins was shocked when the physicist calmly announced there was only one solution to the problem. Manual detonation.
Booker said he’d remain on Level 8 and explode the charges that would seal the main shafts and air vents. He made the decision sound as simple as going to the store to buy milk.
He caught Atkins completely off guard. Elizabeth and Weston had already made it up the air vent with Murray helping them. They’d gone up with ropes looped under their arms and around their waists. Twice Weston had almost fallen, only to be caught by Murray, who’d wrapped the rope for extra support around an electrical outlet box bolted to the floor of the tunnel.
The looped end of the rope now dangled in front of Atkins. Murray had shouted down for one of them to start climbing.
“Why in the hell don’t you run the detonator cord up to ground level and set it off up there?” Atkins asked.
Booker shook his head. “If we get another good earthquake and that cord snaps…” He didn’t finish the thought. “Any venting from a bomb this size, and the dust cloud could drift all the way to the East Coast.”
“But you can’t stay here!” Atkins shouted. He’d clamped his hands on Booker’s shoulders as he tried to reason with him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Booker was resolute. There was no moving him.
“It’s the right time and the right place,” the physicist said patiently. “I’ve got plenty of explosives left. I can seal every vent at this level. I only wish I’d thought of this earlier. It would have made things so much easier. I wouldn’t have had to lug all that extra plastic explosive and fuse down into this hole in the ground.”
Atkins looked at him, shaking his head. It was hopeless. He was staying.
“John, you’re running out of time.” Booker said. “I’m not going to leave. It’s a simple decision. I’ve made it of sound body and mind. I wish you’d go. Please go. If you stay, it’s safe to say the end will come very quickly. You won’t suffer. If by some miracle we survive the explosive charges, we can look forward to being vaporized. I must say I’ve always been curious about the chemical processes involved, all that radiation your bones absorb in a few nanoseconds. Of course, you won’t feel it because you’ll implode when all those gamma rays shoot through you. Photons, actually. Your body will light up, something like a flashbulb, I imagine.”
“Dammit, your leukemia is in remission,” Atkins persisted angrily. “You don’t have to do this, Fred. You can live another ten years. You don’t have to commit suicide.”
“Think logically,” Booker said. “This is the only way we can make sure there’s no screw up. If the ground vents from a one-megaton shot, you’ll have a hot cloud rising to thirty thousand feet within four minutes.”
“You two better get a fucking move on down there,” Murray shouted. For the first time since they’d entered the mine, his voice showed fear.
Booker smiled at Atkins. “You get back to Doctor Holleran, John. Get back to her as fast as you can. There’s going to be a lot of work to do after this. They’re going to need both of you.”
“We’ve got two harnesses up here,” Murray yelled. “They’re ready to pull us up the man shaft.” Moments
