Mercer shivered in the rain. Beneath the steel and lead shielding lay a ball of explosives that would implode an even smaller sphere of plutonium. It had the power to level a city.
He prayed it had the power to save a planet.
ABOARD THE PETROMAX ANGEL OFF LA PALMA
A deckhand approached hauling a small winch on wheels. Together he and Mercer slung a cradle under the nuclear bomb and lifted it from the MMU. The weapon swung and twisted on the end of the cable in a way that reminded Mercer of an obscene pinata. The absurdity of his observation brought a smile to his face.
“What’s so funny, Doctor?” the crewman asked.
“Just that it’s a good thing I don’t have a blindfold and a stick.”
They wheeled the bomb across the slick deck to the container at the stern of the service boat. The ashfall had smothered the waves so the ship sat as solidly as if she were in drydock. Fire hoses had been directed over the fantail to open a spot in the muck so the divers could be safely lowered into the sea. Gantry lights showed the pace of the ashfall was slowing, as was the rain. The sky had even brightened to a dull pewter.
Mercer passed his side of the winch dolly to another crewman to answer his vibrating phone. The signal was the clearest it had been since the eruption four hours ago.
“You must pull some serious weight with the president,” Ira said without preamble.
“What happened?”
“I’ve been trying to get through to tell you that he decided to wait until morning on the East Coast to make the announcement.”
“I doubt it was my influence,” Mercer said, overjoyed by the news. “Waiting until daylight to start the evacuation makes better sense than starting it at eleven o’clock at night.”
“Either way you have five hours. If you can set off that nuke and prevent the avalanche he won’t call for the evacuation. Has it arrived?”
“About two minutes ago. Good thinking using an MMU.”
“Thought you’d like that,” Ira said. “We’ll make sure that anyone on the western sides of the other islands will be above the surge line of any wave created when that bomb goes off. The navy is pushing out their quarantine zone. An Aegis cruiser is going to remain inside the cordon if you need it.”
“What about the North African coast?” Mercer asked, still amazed by the level of coordination even though he was at the center of it.
“Even more deserted than normal. The UN has done a good job there. Are the divers set to go?”
Just as Mercer didn’t need to know the details of the world reaction to the crisis, he wouldn’t bother Ira with the attack on Charlie Williams or how he would be making the dive. “Ready and willing.” Mercer didn’t know how to ask the next question. It wasn’t in his nature to question success, but he had to make plans. “Listen, Ira, I’d like you to do me a favor.”
“Name it.”
“If this doesn’t work and they call for a full evacuation I want you to look after Harry.”
“Already taken care of. He and Tiny have your car gassed and loaded, and a hotel reservation near Lynchburg, Tennessee.”
Their choice of destination was no surprise.
Lynchburg was the home of the Jack Daniel’s distillery. “Just make sure they leave.”
“I will but you shouldn’t worry. I think they’re going whether the president makes the announcement or not.”
That brought a smile to Mercer’s face. “Then tell him if his dog scratches my leather seats I’m going to reupholster them with his wrinkled hide.”
“You got it. I have to go, Mercer. Keep me posted.”
“I might be out of touch but I’ll make sure Jim McKenzie or Tisa are available.”
“Okay. Good luck.”
Mercer returned the phone to the pocket of the overalls he’d been given by Scott. Glass stood by his ADS talking with Spirit. “How’s C.W.?” Mercer asked.
Spirit glowered at him and said nothing.
“Still unconscious,” Scott answered, not understanding the animosity. “The engineer pumped a third IV into him. Spirit says his color is better and the bleeding has stopped.”
“That’s good.”
Tisa stepped through the open container doors. Spirit shot her a sharp glare and wheeled on Mercer. “I see you’re not man enough to use Charlie’s suit.” Then she stormed out.
“Told you,” Tisa said to Mercer.
“I’m afraid you’re way off base about her. If possible she hates me even more.”
She stroked his arm. “You don’t know much about women. Bad for you. Good for me.”
“How is that bad for me?”
“You’ll never see my feminine tricks coming.”
Of all the burdens and distractions Mercer was shouldering, all the directions he was being pulled in, all the demands that were draining him down, only Tisa, and the promise of their relationship, gave him sustenance and the strength to carry on. Sometimes all it took was a sly comment to make him forget everything else. He reached for her hand as he addressed Scott. “We have five hours before the president orders the evacuation of the eastern U.S. and causes a panic that will claim thousands. The bomb has a three-hour delay timer once it’s set and I want at least an hour after the blast to evaluate the results.”
“Leaves us an hour to pull
“All the more reason to get going. How are we going to carry the weapon?”
“My suit will take the brunt of the weight from the towline. We’ll mount the bomb to yours in a quick-release harness. Onboard gyroscopes will compensate for the added weight and keep the ADS trimmed.”
“Okay then.” Mercer shook Scott’s hand.
Two Petromax workers helped Mercer and Scott Glass climb into the NewtSuits. Before sealing the back, Mercer motioned Tisa over to him. “I’ll see you soon.”
“What time is it?”
“Ah, eight thirty. Oh God! Did the oracle predict something else for today?”
“No. I was just curious.” She smiled and kissed his cheek. “If I hadn’t lost it on the ferry, I think I’d start wearing the watch you gave me.”
“I’ll get you another,” he promised.
Tisa stepped back and Mercer’s suit was closed and the seals engaged. The ventilation fans were already working, but he needed several deep breaths to feel his lungs fill with air.
“Can you hear me, Mercer?” Scott called from his own suit.
“Loud and clear. Jim, are we on-line in the van?”
“I read you both. Everything looks good from my end. Say the word and they’ll maneuver the cradle to the stern and lower you in.”
“Give us a minute,” Scott requested. “Mercer, do one more check of your motors. Make sure everything’s okay.”
Mercer rocked his feet on the large toggle switches in the base of each leg and was rewarded with the buzz of the appropriate propeller. Outside the thick faceplate, Tisa gave Mercer a thumbs-up, then pretended to be impressed with the size of his biceps by squeezing the suit’s armored skin. In the air, the suit was too heavy to move so he couldn’t respond other than to flash a smile she couldn’t see.
“We’re ready, Jim.”
Mercer watched one of the technicians motion Tisa away from the heavy steel cage that would lower the
