“Yeah, yeah, no need to remind me. We’ve got a couple marked as highly probable. One’s a trucking outfit that regularly makes runs back and forth across the border, with the target percentage of Middle Eastern employees.
It would be easy enough to blackmail or even take out a driver and replace him with a cell member, and roll the nuke straight through the checkpoint. They’re supposed to be searched, and the cargo highways are monitored, but a heavily shielded box could still could get through. It’s one of our strongest leads. A second one is a small commuter airline based near El Paso. They might try an aerial detonation to disperse the radiation, not to mention the EMP could disable most of a city if the bomb goes off at ten thousand feet—”
“What was that?” Kate had been scrolling through her own list, looking at her own narrowed list of possibilities, which still numbered at least a dozen, and she had barely cracked the
“The Electro-Magnetic Pulse is the disruptive radioactive energy wave created by an electromagnetic bomb, or it can also be a byproduct of a nuclear detonation. Supposed to damage transistors, components of electronic devices, that sort of thing. Tests have shown the damage varies depending on the type of circuit used, but with so many electronics in America, if one of those was set off, it would probably knock out a lot more than just thousands of toasters and radios.”
For a moment, Kate didn’t hear him, as all her attention was focused on her computer screen, where a single name had caught her attention—Spaceworks, Inc.
A quick tap on the screen brought up all of the information NiteMaster had acquired, including their Web site, which showed them to be a research-and-development facility that constructed rockets for businesses to use in commercial space ventures.
Her own words replayed in her mind—
Could he have managed to put something this complex into place? She brought up everything they knew about the company. Its owners, history, roster of employees, everything she could find. Once the picture of the grinning owner, Joseph Allen, appeared on her monitor, along with his completely clean background, Kate’s gut feeling solidified into something more—the certainty that this was the vehicle al-Kharzi planned to use to carry out his attack against the U.S.
“Earth to Kate. Hello, Kate, you got something?”
“Yeah, Denny, I think I do.” Kate gritted her teeth as she scrolled through the data. She discovered Joseph’s father had been a radical Muslim thirty years earlier. “The son follows in the footsteps of the father,” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Denny. We need to scramble a hacker team— pull the best ones we have ready right now. They need to work on infiltrating this company’s network ASAP. Tag one of them to get satellite time over the compound so we can get an idea of what we might be facing. Also, get me the dossiers on whoever’s up in the midnight-team rotation.
If there’s enough time, we can send them in to take out the facility. Finally, we need to figure out how to stop them before they fire, and if they manage to get it launched, how to stop the rocket before detonation—”
“Whoa, whoa, Kate, why don’t you bring me up to speed first on what you’ve got there?”
She linked him to the Spaceworks site, and he whistled.
“How do you know you’re right about this?”
“It fits al-Kharzi’s profile. The head of the company is a fifth-generation Muslim born in the U.S. His father immigrated from Syria back in the 1960s, and had connections to terrorist groups that fought in Lebanon. It seems that he left for the U.S., and found an even bigger enemy.
Joseph has kept his nose scrupulously clean, but that’s just what a sleeper agent does now, isn’t it? If I’m right, he could cripple the entire eastern or western seaboard with the right missile, the suitcase and the EMP blast. I’ve got to let Tracy and Nate know—I think we’ve found our sleeper cell.”
Denny held up his hand. “Before you do that, you need to know that the rocket has to be taken out before it launches. Once it’s airborne, there is no contingency plan to stop it by shooting it down.”
Kate’s smile was grim as she dialed. “Then I guess we’d better make sure it doesn’t get launched.”
Sepehr took a deep, steadying breath, and stared straight into the small digital videocamera, preparing to record the message that would be broadcast throughout America and the world. He was taking complete responsibility for what he would wreak in the next few hours. His message would emphasize that he had accomplished this from inside the United States itself, serving as a clarion call to the rest of the holy warriors around the world that, for all its vaunted might, the imperialist superpower was vulnerable, filled with weak, morally corrupt people who deserved to be destroyed by the cleansing blast he would unleash, the first, he hoped, of many.
He was about to to start recording when there was a knock on the small studio’s door. Sepehr glanced up at the interruption, his angry expression turning more so when he saw Joseph Allen standing outside, worry etched on his face. Rising, he stood and walked to the door. He wanted to be alone when he made his message to the world, but it seemed creating his victory message would have to wait.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but we may have a problem.”
“Yes?”
“One of my people got a call from the infidels that were part of the group that were supposed to bring our men and their cargo into the States. They say that they’ve received word there was a survivor from among the illegal immigrants in the desert. Apparently she’s being kept at Providence Hospital, in room 305, under guard.”
Sepehr remained quiet, digesting the information. “We are approximately two hours from launch, correct?”
“Yes.”
“What possible threat could this person be to us? They know nothing of our plan, and they cannot possibly know where we are. The chances that they could impart some bit of information about us are infinitesimal. Bring Rais and Antarah to me immediately.”
The two men who had served as part of the three-man team charged with escorting the bomb arrived at the door in less than a minute. By that time, Sepehr had made his decision.
“There is one task that remains to insure that our strike against this nation of infidels will be successful. One of the infidels that you were supposed to have killed is still alive, and is at this address.” He handed them a slip of paper. “Take an unmarked car and finish what you started. If you are caught or trapped, you know what to do. May Allah watch over you both and reward your efforts this day. Now go.”
The two men nodded and headed for the main doors.
Joseph’s brow furrowed as he waited to speak until the men left. “I don’t mean to question your decision, but are you sure you’re not overreacting to this? You said yourself that there was no possible way they could know about our mission or where we are. How can we be sure it is not a trap by the American authorities?”
Sepehr shook his head. “If the Americans knew where we were, they wouldn’t hesitate to beat down our doors at this very moment. If they are fishing, our men will either kill them or die in the process, and either way, that trail will be closed. It was a seemingly insignificant thing—like what we have just learned—that brought down my previous operation against the United States, and forced me into hiding. Even as close as we are to success, I will not take that chance again.”
“Of course. Just the same, I will notify all of our guards to be extra alert and to report anything suspicious, no matter how insignificant it may seem. Do you think there is any cause to issue anything larger than the pistols the guards are currently carrying?”
Sepehr clucked his tongue. “Now who is being para-noid? As I expect you have done already, just make sure that the heavier weapons are available to the men. Although wise men do not go looking for trouble, they would be fools indeed not to expect it.”
Joseph turned to go, but stopped at the door when he heard Sepehr’s voice.
“Joseph—if something were to happen, and we needed to launch sooner than the countdown allowed for, could we?”
“The countdown is for optimal safety, to make sure that all parts of the rocket are in working order, but we have run the tests on all systems several times, so if we need to go to ignition for launch ahead of schedule, we could do so within two minutes of receiving the order.”
“Very good. Please carry on.” After Joseph had left, Sepehr turned to the camera and sat in front of it again. He
