'It's already armed.'
Jeffrey's eyebrows raised.
'I had some trouble with the checkpoint guards.' 'Did you start the timer?'
'No. I almost had to use the instant-firing switch.'
Jeffrey felt himself shiver. 'Emplace it. Set the time delay for nine zero minutes, and start it running.'
Ilse began to leave, then looked back. 'Um, I, I want you to know, Jeffrey, it's been an honor working with you.'
Jeffrey gave her a poignant smile. 'It was good for me too, Ilse. I'm sorry if I seemed hard on you before, on the ship.'
She came closer. 'I, if only…'
'I know. In another life… I guess it just wasn't meant to be.' She turned to go, then turned back again.
'What if we can't find Lieutenant Clayton?'
'Then your bomb's all we've got. Half a lab's better than none.' The first A-bomb was ticking. On the upper level, hiding behind a row of roaring fan blowers, Jeffrey and Ilse and Montgomery looked up at the entrance to the air duct. It was two meters off the floor, protected by a grating.
'Salih said he needed his ID to get inside,' Jeffrey said.
'Want me to see if I can force it open?'
'We have nothing to lose, Chief.'
'Yeah, that's for sure. Give me a boost, please, sir.'
Jeffrey knelt and put his hands against the wall; Montgomery climbed onto his shoulders. The chief reached for the grating.
'It's open. Held with shims.'
'It might be a trap,' Ilse whispered.
'We have to take the chance,' Jeffrey managed to grunt. He was still supporting Montgomery's full weight.
Montgomery jumped down. 'Ilse, you go first.'
Ilse climbed on Jeffrey's shoulders, and Montgomery helped her reach the air duct. With the grate swung open now, she chinned herself up and climbed inside. Montgomery took the welding transformer and climbed on Jeffrey's shoulders again. Jeffrey almost collapsed from the weight. The chief pushed the transformer into the opening. They might need the welder to emplace the other bomb, and abandoned somewhere here it might warn guards there were intruders.
Montgomery let Jeffrey stand, then linked his hands to make a stirrup. He boosted Jeffrey up.
Jeffrey clambered inside, and pushed the transformer forward — it was too tall to roll upright in the ductway. The metal case scraped loudly along the concrete. Jeffrey saw Ilse crawl further in, on hands and knees. When there was room, Montgomery leaped and chinned himself into the ductway.
'I can't reach the grate to close it,' Montgomery said. 'Leave it,' Jeffrey said. Soon enough, it wouldn't matter. Nothing would matter.
They crawled on. Eventually, past Ilse, Jeffrey could make out the — other end of the duct, with another grate. Right in front of him, partly blocking his progress, was a constriction in the ductway: the visible edges of a titanium frame for an automatic blast door.
— Jeffrey kicked himself; he wasn't thinking. Of course there'd be a blast shutter here. He tried to get the welder past the bottom edge of the frame. It was very awkward, in such confined space. Ilse couldn't possibly turn around, and Montgomery was behind him. Jeffrey had to do this by himself.
He levered the heavy transformer onto the lip of the frame, almost crushing a finger. He began to shove the rig forward. A little further… a little further.. The transformer slid through.
Crap!
Jeffrey pulled back just in time. The transformer dropped off the frame with a heavy thud, and the edge of the thick blast door snapped down like a guillotine. An alarm began to sound. Trapped, on the same side of the lab as Ilse's bomb.
Jeffrey heard guards running to the air duct. There was noise as someone positioned a ladder. He heard rifle charging-handles pulled back and released. Rounds slid into chambers, and selectors clicked off safe to fire — six or seven men. A guard shouted something angry in German.
Montgomery shouted, too, then said something apologetic.
Jeffrey glanced back. Montgomery was holding his ID card over his shoulder so the guard on the ladder could see. Two other guards held assault rifles over their heads, aimed into the duct; Jeffrey just saw their forearms and their weapon muzzles ? 5.56mm caliber, the same as M 6's. Jeffrey displayed his own ID, though he was too far in for the guard to read it. Montgomery pointed to the blast door, and shouted something more. He pointed again for emphasis.
The guard stepped down from the ladder. Another took his place, and covered them warily with his rifle. The alarm stopped. The blast door rose and reset. There on the other side was the welding gear. Ilse was gone. Montgomery pointed at the transformer, past Jeffrey's body, and spoke to the guard.
The second guard said something, nodded, and climbed down from the ladder. The rifles aimed into the duct disappeared.
Jeffrey heard a radio hiss and crackle. They must be talking to guards at the other end of the duct. Ilse's end.
Jeffrey climbed out headfirst at the other end of the air duct — that grate was swung wide open. Montgomery held his ankles till Jeffrey's hands could reach the floor. Awkwardly, Jeffrey stood. Montgomery handed down the transformer.
Jeffrey had an idea. He checked the coast was clear, so he could talk. 'Chief, can you jam open the blast door with a welding rod?'
'Good thought, sir. Be right back.' This way one bomb might be enough to kill both halves of the lab — or it might not.
Jeffrey saw a socket. 'Chief,' he said in a whisper. Jeffrey plugged in the extension cord and lifted the rig to Montgomery. 'Weld the rod in place. In fact, try to weld the door open.'
Montgomery nodded. He backed in, dragging the rig. There were blue-white flashes, then more scraping of metal on concrete. The end of the rig reappeared. Jeffrey grabbed it, then helped Montgomery down. He knelt so Montgomery could get back up to shut the grate, and remove any traces of the shims.
Ilse stepped out from behind a big steam manifold. It hissed and dripped. 'Guards came by and did a sweep, but I evaded round these pipes till the ones on your side called them off.'
Jeffrey smiled with relief. He gave her a hug, and she squeezed back.
'Let's get to the rally point.' Jeffrey turned to Montgomery as they strode along, wheeling the welding rig, looking over their shoulders nervously, hoping they wouldn't be apprehended too soon, before they could turn the missile lab into a double nuclear Hell.
'You did it again, Chief,' Jeffrey said to try to lighten the mood. 'Faking out those guards.'
— 'So I'll get an Oscar, posthumously…. This maintenance worker act is wearing thin, sir.'
Jeffrey nodded. The guards might double-check and see there was never anything wrong with the duct that needed welding, and that Salih's ID, not a repair authorization, had opened the grates.
'Also, sir, the guard asked me if we'd seen a late-twenties woman with shoulder-length brown hair. You, Ilse.'
'They're on to me.'
'How did you get down from the duct headfirst so fast?' Jeffrey said.
'The grate didn't look like it could hold me, so I tried to do a parachute landing fall.'
'You've had jump training?' Montgomery said.
'No. I told myself this was no time to clutch, and just did it…. I don't think I broke anything.'
'The grates,' Jeffrey said. 'It's been nagging on my mind. I think Salih and Clayton are still on the loose. The way they left the ductway clear, those shims — it's like they were trying to plant a message for us…. I'm starting to have a new plan.'
'There's another problem,' Montgomery said. 'That automated checkpoint we came through near the utility space, you remember, with Clayton and Salih. How do we get Ilse past it now? I'm sure they've invalidated her
