All Necessary Force

meters away, and the transformers at this distance looked like nine-volt batteries.

Too hard to hit, even if the EFP will work that far.

His Google Earth research had failed. There was no way to strike from this location.

But I can’t get any closer.

He could see the chain-link electrified fence of the facility just down the ridge. Moving west, toward the EHVTs, meant moving into the security perimeter.

He scanned the compound again, being drawn to the two concrete domes that housed the reactors themselves. The closest was within striking distance.

He knew there was little chance his single EFP would penetrate the concrete sheath, since its sole purpose was to contain any radiation leaks in the event of a catastrophe.

But the protection is built to withstand a sloppy emergency, like an earthquake or plane crash.

Not designed to protect against a weapon built from the ground up to defeat the best armor on earth. The strike would definitely cause damage, and if the EFP even fractured the concrete a little bit, they’d be forced to pull both reactors off-line while they did a structural analysis. Especially after the Japanese tsunami catastrophe last year. The United States would be on edge because of that tragedy.

Not nearly the impact I wanted, but maybe all that’s left.

He’d gotten the call from Carl saying that police officers had been waiting for him at the substation, which meant it was either blind luck or they had specifically tracked Carl. He was leaning toward blind luck, because the police had been taken by surprise and killed. Even so, Rafik had lost his earlier confidence. He was now unsure of reaching critical mass in the Eastern exchange, and had begun to resign himself to this final act.

He thought about the dome, and realized he was simply wishing for success. One EFP shot had little chance of doing any serious damage.

But what about two? Or four?

He began to formulate a germ of an idea. What if I fired four EFPs at the same spot? Pounding the same fracture over and over? They’re specifically designed to defeat this very thing, only made of steel. Surely repeated strikes would penetrate simple concrete.

The silos weren’t armored. Just very thick traditional concrete. He didn’t know the exact makeup of the EFPs in his control but had seen the damage done by ones made much more crudely, and the damage was impressive indeed. If he could penetrate the concrete, with one or two EFP shots actually going inside the dome, he might cause serious havoc.

He had done enough research to know that even if he got through the outer barrier, the inner reactor was protected as well, and aiming blindly outside would almost ensure a miss.

But he also knew the reactor process was a delicate one. If he managed to destroy some of the mechanisms controlling the cooling of the nuclear rods, they’d melt down, causing a catastrophic fault. And perhaps a release of radioactive waste through the fault I create, just as happened in Japan.

He began walking rapidly back toward the GPS waypoint he’d set where he left the trail, marking the path to his car. He toyed with calling one of the teams right now, telling them to meet him in the park. Perhaps Carl. Given his military experience, he would be the best choice to make the multiple strike work.

He reached the trailhead twenty minutes later and felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out and saw that Carl wouldn’t be helping anything on the attack anymore.

74

Closing in on Washington, D.C., just outside of Springfield, my phone vibrated. Opening it up, I saw a blinking icon with the label PEPCO IMEI north of Fort Belvoir. Buckshot had found the other team, only five miles to our east.

Decision time.

We were hightailing it to the Calvert Cliffs State Park to take out the ringleader, but now we had a target of opportunity that we could destroy right here. I’d already called Kurt and given him an update on the threat to the nuclear facility, sending him and the Oversight Council into a frenzy of coordination for a police response. That would undoubtedly take precious time. I was sure I could beat that response to Calvert Cliffs, but bypassing the terrorists nearby might mean reaching critical mass on the power grid. It was a Solomon’s choice.

I toyed with having Kurt triangulate the police to the grid here as well, although I knew in my gut they wouldn’t make it before the strike. There was just too much bureaucracy. The assholes might be lining up on a substation right now.

Retro called. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Yeah. What do you think?”

“Bird in the hand, man. That’s what I think.”

That was enough to push me over the edge. I gave Jennifer instructions, and we began the hunt for the third team. We wound around surface streets north of Fort Belvoir, crossing Telegraph Road and continuing to the east. Eventually we ended up on a small service road for a substation sandwiched in between two older, established neighborhoods. Driving up it, I saw a large field of knee-high grass in front of the substation, along with the Pepco truck.

We stopped short, huddling around my Suburban. Decoy and Retro began checking their kit, getting ready for the fight. Seeing the armament being loaded, Jennifer began doing the same.

I said, “Okay, they’re here and setting up for a strike. Decoy and Retro go left. Jennifer and I will go right. Follow the fence line until we meet up. No doubt they’ll be setting up somewhere on the perimeter.”

Decoy said, “Rules of engagement?”

“Smoke them. No questions. Shoot first.”

I felt Jennifer’s eyes on me, and when I glanced her way, she stared at me for a long pause, then flicked her eyes at Retro and Decoy. I got the hint. I told the men, “Get your shit together. We leave in one minute.”

After they’d returned to their Suburban and out of earshot, strapping on magazines and checking weapons, Jennifer said, “Why are we shooting first? We’re not in a car. We can surprise them. Maybe they have information we can use.”

I should have realized that when she’d said she was part of the solution, she didn’t understand what that meant. I should scratch her right here. Even after her experiences in Europe, she was living in the land of the civilized.

“Jennifer, we aren’t cops, and this isn’t an arrest. It’s combat. Look, I get we’re in the United States and it doesn’t feel right, but that’s what it is. We kill whoever we find. Just like Normandy. Pretend they’re Nazis or something, but don’t let me down. Shoot first. Can you do that?”

She gazed off into the tree line for a few seconds, making me wonder again about taking her along. She turned back and checked her weapon, saying, “Yeah. I can do that. If they’re bad, they’re dead. But this had better be worth it. We kill a crew of innocent power company guys…”

With a little embarrassment and a lot of relief, I realized I had completely missed the reason for her reticence. She had no qualms about killing the terrorists. Well, maybe some, but she was more worried about killing innocents. Something I completely understood.

After she trailed off, I said, “That won’t happen. This is their vehicle. Look, I see where you’re going, but Retro and Decoy will automatically discriminate and it’ll be pretty damn clear if they’re bad. Don’t worry. We aren’t going to kill anyone that’s not a threat, but we’re also not going to give them a fair chance. If they’re bad, they’re dead.”

I signaled Decoy and Retro, then began running down the right-side fence line, Jennifer behind me. We circled the perimeter, scanning for a target. We got about halfway around before an explosion cracked through the site, on Retro’s side of the perimeter.

Shit. The EFP.

I continued on, making sure Jennifer was keeping up. She doggedly followed, running with the Glock in a two-handed grip, the sights bobbing and weaving with her stride, exactly like she’d been taught.