“Like if you’re installing a lamp in the ceiling,” Kelly offered.
“Right there,” Brant said. “So the functions the wire and the connector serve aren’t anything special. But the rubber coating on the wire, and the shape and content of the plastic connector, these were things we hadn’t seen before.”
“Do you know where they come from?” Chappelle asked.
“We do now,” Brant said. “They come from us. We make them.”
“What do they do?”
Brant said. “This rubber coating and these connectors are designed to insulate electronic devices against attacks from electromagnetic pulse weapons. EMPs.”
The room filled with the low buzz of questions. Chappelle leaned over to Kelly. “Another loose end,” he whispered.
Kelly tapped his knuckles on the table for attention. “Wait, wait. I understand what electromagnetic pulses are. Those are the things that knock out electronic devices, right?”
“A nuclear blast might cause one,” Nina Myers said.
“A number of people have been working on devices that cause EMP bursts without wiping out the territory with a nuclear blast,” Amy Brant said. “EMP burst weapons would neutralize unshielded enemy electronics, everything from night vision goggles to fighter bombers. Some of the research is going on at Cal Tech over in Pasadena.”
“Working on,” Chappelle repeated. “Do functioning devices like these actually exist.”
“Oh, yes,” Brant said. “But only as prototypes. That is, the functionality is certain. Field application such as proper transportation, field repair and diagnostics, all of that is in its infancy.”
Nina Myers gave voice to a concern they all felt. “We spend a lot of time worrying about nuclear, chemical, and bio threats. Why not this? What would happen if someone set one of these things off in a city like Los Angeles?”
“Of course, it depends on the size of the pulse. There are other factors, too. The ground acts as a natural, well, ground, so the closer the device is to the Earth, the less effect it has. But if it were big enough and high enough, it would knock out everything.
“There’s another kind of EMP device being developed. It’s called HERF gun. That’s high energy radio frequency gun to you laymen. It’s exactly what it sounds like — a directed weapon that can be aimed at a specific vehicle or machine. It’s obviously much less dangerous to the population at large, but it can totally shut down whatever it’s aimed at.”
“The military applications must be staggering,” Kelly said.
Ms. Brant nodded. “Yes, I think so, but I’m not sure. The downside to an EMP device is that you can shield against it. That brings us back to these wires. You can shield a device in two ways: by putting it in a Farraday Cage, or by wiring it with insulation like this.”
“Farraday Cage?” Nina asked.
“Basically it’s a big metal tube that deflects electromagnetic pulses. It works really well, but you have to have one big enough to cover whatever you want to protect. So the wiring option is usually better. You could wire an entire airplane if you had to, but it would be a huge project.”
Chappelle groaned. “Okay, so now we know what an EMP device does. And we know that someone in that condo had wiring specially designed to resist one. Do we know who was in the condo?”
Kelly answered. “Best guess is Frank Newhouse, undercover for the Department of Justice, pretending to work with the Greater Nation militia. But why he continues to go undercover, I don’t know. And I don’t know why he’d plant a bomb in his condo.”
“Maybe the militia got him,” Nina suggested. “Maybe they planted the bomb.”
“Forensics?” Chappelle inquired.
Another CTU agent, Janet Takuyama from the forensics department, spoke up. “We pulled up thirteen separate sets of fingerprints, including Frank Newhouse, a set we matched to a maid, and two sets we matched to maintenance workers. The others don’t show up in our database, which could just mean they don’t have records yet.”
“It also means they’re not military or law enforcement,” Chappelle noted.
Takuyama continued, “We also pulled a bad partial off of one of the buckets. We’re running it against possible matches, but that list is going to be long. We’ll try to whittle it down.”
Farid rounded the front of the Peppermint Club and ran back into the building. This was either a brilliant strategy because it was unexpected, or it would deliver him right back into the hands of his enemies if they cut through the building.
Jack burst inside, shoving his way past the startled doorman who clearly had already been knocked off his stool by Farid. The man grabbed Jack’s shoulder. Jack spun and punched him in the throat and the man dropped with a gasp. Jack pushed through the thick velvet curtains into the club again.
“Ah!”
His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark, but he heard the sound and he could just make out Farid struggling with one of the Armenians.
“Freeze!” Jack yelled. He put a warning shot into the ceiling. The girls in the room screamed and a few male voices shouted in alarm. Shadowy figures scattered in several directions. Jack leveled his Sig, but in the dark, with two struggling figures, he had no shot. He raced forward and threw himself at the bigger of the two figures. It was like hitting a tree. He bounced off, but managed to keep his feet. The giant shoved Farid aside and punched Jack in the face. The room spun. Jack felt the giant grab his hair and punch him again. Jack shoved his gun into the Armenian’s stomach and fired three times. The giant crashed to the floor.
Jack staggered backward, his head swimming. He shook the cobwebs out and spun in time to see Farrah and the other bodyguard burst into the room. He raised his weapon and fired, but his vision was blurred, ruining his aim. Dazed though he was, he had the sense to duck as four or five gunshots answered his own. He rolled to his left, bumping into a chair. He crawled along the floor. He felt blood pour down his nose, but he didn’t care about the bleeding. He needed time for his head to clear.
He nearly forgot about Farid. He caught a glimpse of the man running for the back door again. Jack rolled to his back and aimed for the exit, squeezing off a few more rounds. Farid yelped and hit the deck again. “Don’t move again!” Jack ordered.
A bullet punctured the lounge chair next to him. Jack rolled back to his stomach, searching for targets. Somewhere in the room a girl kept screaming. A shadow moved across his field of vision. Jack aimed low, firing four times. He was rewarded with an angry bellow and the other Armenian collapsed, his ankles blown away. Jack felt his head clearing at last and he rose to a crouched position, keeping his head below the level of the tables.
Someone somewhere turned on the lights. Jack spotted Farrah in the corner at the same time Farrah spotted him. He was holding the dancer, Tina, by the neck. When he saw Jack he spun in that direction, putting the girl between himself and Jack’s line of fire.
“I don’t know what you want, okay!” Farrah yelled. “But I want Farid. You get him for me or I will kill this girl.”
15. THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 5 P.M. AND 6 P.M. PACIFIC STANDARD TIME
Jack’s ears were still ringing from the big Armenian’s punches. He took a deep breath and focused. He wasn’t giving up Farid. That was his primary goal. He was tempted to just back away, taking Farid out the back door. But Farrah was a cold-blooded killer and in the one hour he’d known the man Jack had developed an intense dislike for him.
He aimed his weapon.
“Get away!” Farrah yelled, seeing him. “I’ll kill her!”
