“What’s the core made of?” he asked, remembering how it had appeared to be a different material in the cross section of the model.
“Semiplastic, impermeable clay,” the supervisor said. “Concrete down below.”
If Joe was right the rushing water had scoured down through the aggregate and reached the core. The erosion rate had almost stopped. “Does it run the whole width of the dam?”
The supervisor nodded. “It’s dug into the rock on either side.”
“Can it hold the lake back?”
The supervisor thought about that for a moment. “The core won’t erode like the aggregate does, but as the back side of the slope is scoured away the amount of rock and stone keeping the core in place will be reduced steadily. At some point the weight of Lake Nasser will simply shove the core aside like a bus might push a small car.”
Joe looked out past the breach. The water was cascading over the top, plummeting and spreading. But the gentle thirteen-degree slope and the stone covering seemed to be helping, the covering was holding its own at least for now.
“I think the surface lining is holding up,” he said. “If the water level drops far enough, the core might save the day. And with the breach as wide as it is, that shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”
The supervisor nodded. “It’s possible,” he said, sounding like he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.
Major Edo pointed to something else, something Joe hadn’t seen before. A small geyser farther down below. All but lost in the greater flood, it was blasting outward like a water feature in some ornate garden. The spray soared and fanned into a fine mist that caught the illumination from the floodlights.
“What about that?” Major Edo asked.
Joe’s heart dropped. He remembered the mock-up in Yemen. The higher flood had come first, but the lower tunnel had caused the core to fail and the entire dam along with it.
“That’s a bigger problem,” Joe said.
“How did this happen?” the supervisor asked.
Joe tried to explain about the microbots and how they burrowed through things, including concrete and clay. No one questioned him this time.
“Could they still be down there?”
“Possibly,” Joe said. “Maybe burrowing into the clay to widen the tunnel in ways the water can’t.”
“If it widens too much …” the supervisor began. He didn’t need to finish.
“Do you have any way to seal something like this?” Joe asked.
The supervisor rubbed his chin. “There may be one way,” he said. “We have a compound known as Ultra-Set. It’s a polymer that bonds with clay, expands many times over to fill small gaps. It becomes impervious in a matter of seconds. If we could pump it into the tunnel that those things you’re talking about have drilled, it might block it up. If the topside holds and the water level drops fast enough, we might avert a total failure.”
A new wave of tremors shook the building.
“What’s the drawback?” Joe asked.
“There’s only one way to get the Ultra-Set into the tunnel,” the supervisor said. “We have to pump it in under high pressure. To do that, someone has to find the entry point on the lake side of the dam.”
Joe looked at the supervisor and the few others who remained at their posts in the shuddering control room. “You need a diver,” he guessed, finding it hard to believe his fate. He smiled anyway. “How lucky for me.”
CHAPTER 54
THE ELEVATOR DOORS OPENED TO REVEAL THE TOP FLOOR of Marchetti’s pyramid and a luxurious foyer. Three of Jinn’s men were stationed there and they turned at the sound of the elevator’s ping.
It was a natural reaction. They had no reason to suspect any trouble. In fact, it looked to Kurt as if they were snapping to attention as the sound wave from the Pain Maker hit them and dropped them to their knees.
One let out a grunt, another stumbled backward and knocked over a table with a vase on it that smashed to the ground, the third man just fell straight down.
Kurt let go of the handle that powered the system as Paul, Gamay, Tautog and Varu bound the men in cuffs from the brig. The men looked dazed and confused.
“I feel your pain,” Kurt said. “Or at least I did about ten hours ago.”
The men were gagged with duct tape and stuffed in a janitor’s closet.
“This way,” Marchetti said, heading to the right. They made it to the corner, where the foyer intersected the hall. Poking his head around it, Kurt saw it was empty.
“Let’s go.”
Halfway down the hall they came to a large set of double doors. Marchetti went to a keypad. As he pressed in his code, the sound of shooting broke out far below them. Little pops that sounded like cap guns going off.
“Some of Jinn’s men must be resisting,” Gamay said.
Kurt nodded. “Hurry.”
Marchetti punched in the code as Paul and Tautog charged up the Pain Maker.
Kurt kicked the doors open and flipped the switch. There was no one there.
“Wrong room?” Gamay asked.
Kurt shut the machine off and stepped inside, looking around. The bed had been slept in. He smelled the scent of jasmine. The same perfume Zarrina had worn. Apparently she was closer to Jinn than they thought.
“Right room,” he said. “We just missed them.”
As he stormed back past Marchetti, he mumbled, “Might want to change your sheets.”
“Or burn the whole bed,” Marchetti said.
Kurt was moving down the hall as more gunfire rang out. The others were rushing to catch up with him.
“That explains why his men were snapping to attention,” Paul suggested. “They thought someone was coming back.”
“So where did they go?” Leilani asked.
“I can only think of one place,” Kurt said.
JINN STOOD IN AQUA-TERRA’S control room shocked by what had occurred. Zarrina, Otero and Matson surrounded him, along with the radar operator and another one of his men. The rest were scattered, perhaps ten or less now, fighting Marchetti’s crew and what looked like U.S. Marines.
“How? How is this possible?” he asked. “There are no patrol boats or helicopters here. Where did they come from?”
“We have video from the detention level,” Otero said, studying a laptop. “I hate to say this, but it’s Austin.”
“It can’t be,” Jinn said. “He’s dead. I’ve killed him twice.”
“Then he’s come back from the dead,” Otero said, turning the laptop toward Jinn. “Look.”
It was Austin. Jinn could not imagine how. It was as if Austin had appeared in his midst like a ghost. An appropriate thought as Jinn had been certain he’d been sent to perdition.
The shooting was growing closer. From the observation deck a few of Jinn’s men could be seen running toward Marchetti’s central park. They didn’t make it.
“We have to get out of here,” Zarrina said. “This battle is lost.”
Jinn studied the layout. They would never make it to the dry dock, where the flying boat was moored. Even if they did, a few well-placed bullets or the missiles he’d brought in would take them down.
“We can’t run,” he said.
“And we can’t win this fight,” Zarrina replied sharply. “There are only five of us.”
“Silence,” Jinn snapped.
He was trying to think, trying desperately to come up with a way to turn the tables. He looked to Otero. “Access the horde and energize the transmitter.”
