them against disease for thousands of years."
The President said, "The Komodo dragons' blood byproducts
have been reconfigured to match the structure of
human blood, and as such form the basis of Kevin's immune
system. We then harvest Kevin's genetically constructed
blood plasma to produce a serum that can be inserted into
America's water supply--a serum-hydrate solution--thereby immunizing the general population against the Sinovirus."
"You spike the water supply?" Schofield said.
"Oh, it's been done before," Herbie said. "In 1989,
against botulinum toxin, and in 1990--because of Iraq--
against anthrax. Although Americans don't know it, they're
resistant to all the world's major biological weapons."
"What about the human prisoners?" Book II asked.
"What are they here for?"
Herbie looked to the President, who nodded silently.
The little scientist shrugged. "The human prisoners are
another story altogether. They're not here to provide any sort
of blood by-product or serum. Their role is simple. They're
guinea pigs for the testing of the vaccine."
"Jesus Christ," Gant breathed when she saw the list of
prisoner names.
After Herbie had told them the purpose of the prisoners
downstairs, he had brought up a list of their names on one of
the laboratory's computer terminals.
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There were forty-two of them in total, all multiple lifers
or death-row candidates who had somehow escaped the
chair.
"The worst of the worst," Herbie said, nodding at the
list of names.
Schofield had heard of many of them.
Sylvester McLean--the child-murderer from Atlanta.
Ronald Noonan--the Houston baker turned clock-tower
sniper. Lucifer Leary--the serial killer from Phoenix. Seth
Grimshaw--the notorious leader of the Black League, an
ultra-violent terrorist organization that believed the U.S.
government was preparing America for a United Nations
takeover.
"Seth Grimshaw?" Gant said, seeing the name. She
turned to Juliet Janson. "Wasn't he the one who--?"
"Yes," Janson said, glancing nervously at the President
over on the far side of the lab. "In early February. Just after
the inauguration. He's a genuine 18-84."
Gant said, "Oh, man, do I hope their cages are sturdy."
"all right. great," schofield said. "which brings us
back to the here and now. We're shut in here. They want to
kill the President. And because of the radio transmitter on
his heart, if he dies, fourteen major cities go up in smoke."
"And all right in front of the people of America," Janson
said.
"Not necessarily," the President said, "because Caesar
wouldn't know about the LBJ Directive."
"What's the LBJ Directive?" Schofield asked.
"It's a feature of the Emergency Broadcast System, but
known only to the President and the Vice-President. It's essentially
a safety valve, brought in by Lyndon Johnson in
1967, to stop the BBS from being used too soon."
"So what does it do?"
"It provides for a forty-five-minute delay of any broadcast
sent over the system, unless a presidential override
code is entered. In other words, except in the most urgent
circumstances, it stops a panic broadcast from being sent
area 7 161
out, effectively allowing for a forty-five-minute cooling-off
period.
"Now, since it's 8:09, Caesar's initial broadcast has got
out there, but if we were to find the BBS transmission box
inside this complex, we could stop all his subsequent transmissions."
Schofield pursed his lips, thinking. "That has to be a
secondary consideration. Something to do only if we happen
to be in the right place at the right time."
He turned to Herbie. "Tell us about this complex."
Herbie shrugged. "What's there to know? It's a fortress.
Used to be NORAD headquarters. When it shuts down, it shuts down. The thing is, I don't think anyone ever expected
it to be used to keep someone locked in"
"But even a total lockdown must have a release procedure,"
Schofield said. "Something which opens the doors
when the crisis is over."
Herbie nodded. "The time lock."
"Time lock?"
"In the event of total lockdown, a timer-controlled security
system is activated. Every hour on the hour, those people
still alive inside the base have a five-minute window
period to enter one of three possible codes."
"What kind of codes?" Gant asked.
"Remember," Herbie said, "this facility was intended
for use in a full-scale U.S.-Soviet nuclear exchange. The
codes reflect that. As such, there are three possible entry
codes.
"The first code simply continues the lockdown. The nuclear
crisis is still going, so the facility remains locked
down. The second code assumes the crisis has been resolved.
It calls an end to the lockdown--armored blast doors
are retracted and all entrances and exits are reopened."
"And the third code?" Gant asked.
"The third code is a halfway measure--it allows for
messenger escape. It authorizes title opening of individual
exits and entrances for messengers to leave the facility."
Schofield was listening to Herbie carefully.
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"What happens when no code is entered during the
hourly window period?" he asked.
"You're fast, Captain. You see, that's the kicker, isn't it?
If no code is entered, the complex's computer is warned that
the facility may have been taken by the enemy. It then gives
you one chance to reenter one of the other codes at the next hourly window period. If no code is entered at that time,
then the computer assumes that the facility has been taken
by the enemy, at which point the facility's self-destruct
mechanism is activated."
"Self-destruct mechanism?" Brainiac blurted. "What the fuck is that?"
"A one-hundred-megaton thermonuclear warhead buried
beneath the complex," Herbie said simply.
"Oh, Christ ..." Brainiac said.
Gant said, "Surely they removed that when the Soviet
Union collapsed."
"I'm afraid not," Herbie said. "When this base was reconfigured
as a chemical weapons facility, it was decided
that the self-destruct device still had value. If there was an
accident and a virus spread throughout the facility, the
whole contaminated complex--virus included--could be
destroyed by a superheated nuclear blast."
"Okay," Schofield said, "so if we want to leave, we have
to wait for the hourly window period, find a computer connected
to the central network, and then enter the correct
code."
"That's right," Herbie said.
"So what are the codes?" Schofield asked.
Herbie shrugged helplessly. "That I don't know. I can
initiate a lockdown if there's been an outbreak, but I don't
have clearance to undo one. Only the Air Force guys
can do
that--"
"Uh, excuse me," Juliet Janson said, "but aren't we forgetting
something?"
"Like what?" Brainiac said.
"Like the Football," Janson said. "The President's briefcase.
The one that's been rigged to stop him from escaping
area 7 163
this complex. He has to press his palm against the analyzer
plate on the Football once every ninety minutes, otherwise
the plasma bombs in the cities go off."
"Damn it," Schofield said. He had forgotten all about
that. He looked at his watch.
It was 8:12 a.m.
This had all started at 7:00 a.m. Which meant they had
to get the President's hand onto the Football by 8:30.
He looked up at the others. "Where are they keeping the
Football?"
"Russell said it would be kept in the main hangar, up on
ground level," the President said.
"What do you think?" Gant said to Schofield.
"I don't think we have much choice. Somehow, we have
to get his hand onto the Football."
"But we can't keep doing that forever."
"No," Schofield said, "we can't. At some point, we'll
have to come up with a more long-term solution. But until
then, we deal with the short-term ones."
Janson said, "It'd be suicide to bring the President out
into the open upstairs, they'll almost certainly be waiting."
"That's right," Schofield stood up. "Which is why we
don't do that. What we do is quite straightforward. We bring
the Football to him."
"THE FIRST THING WE HAVE TO DO," SCHOFIELD SAID, rounding
everyone up, "is take care of those security cameras.
While they're still operating, we're screwed." He turned to
Herbie Franklin. "Where's the central junction box in this
place?"
"In the Level 1 hangar bay, I think, on the northern
wall."
"Okay," Schofield said. "Mother, Brainiac, I want you
guys to take care of those cameras. Cut the power if you have
to, I don't care, just shut down the camera system. You got
me?"
"(
"Got it," Mother said.
"And take Dr. Franklin with you. If he's lying, shoot
him."
"Got it," Mother said, eyeing Herbie suspiciously. Herbie
gulped.
"What about the rest of us?" Juliet asked.
Schofield headed toward the short ramp that led to the
wide aircraft elevator shaft.
"The rest of us are going upstairs to play some football."
"--system reboot is complete--"
"Status?" Caesar Russell asked.
Ten minutes previously, during Caesar's second BBS
broadcast, the entire complex had experienced an abrupt
power shutdown, causing all its interior systems to switch
off.
"--Confirm: main power supply has been cut," one of
area 7 165
the radio operators said. "We're running on auxiliary power
now. All systems operational."
"--We lost that enhanced satellite image of the EEV
that was coming through. Renewing contact with the satellite
now--"
Another operator: "Copy that. Main power supply was
switched off at the Level 1 junction box at exactly 0800
hours, by operator 008-72--"
"8-72?" Caesar frowned, thinking.
"--Sir, we have no visual feed. All cameras went down
with the cutting of the main power supply--"
Caesar's eyes narrowed. "All units, report in."
"--This is Alpha," Kurt Logan's voice said. "Initiate
frequency swap. Possibility that enemy has obtained some of
our radio equipment--"
"--Frequency swap complete," the senior operator said.
"Go ahead, Alpha Leader--"
"--We are in the Level 2 hangar bay. Heading for the
personnel elevator for rendezvous up in the main hangar.
Report six dead--"
"--This is Bravo Leader, we're up in the main hangar,
covering the Football. All men present and accounted for.
No casualties--"
"--This is Charlie Leader. We are moving in tandem
with Echo through the common worn area on Level 3. We
have one dead, two wounded from that AWACS shit before.
Understand targets were last sighted on Level 4. Preparing
for joint assault through floor-to-ceiling hatches between 3
and 4. Please advise--"
"--Charlie, Echo, this is Control. We have lost all visual
contact on the Level 4 lab area--"
"Engage at will, Charlie and Echo," Caesar Russell cut
in sharply. "Keep them moving. They can't run forever."
"--This is Delta. We are still on 5. No casualties. By
the time we broke down that door on 5, the targets had already
gone up the ramp to Level 4. Be advised, there is
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substantial flooding in the Level 5 confinement area. Awaiting
instructions--"
"--Delta, this is Caesar," Russell said coolly, "head
back down to Level 6. Cover the X-rail exits."
"--Affirmative, that, sir--"
Twenty black-clad 7th squadron commandos hurried
down one of the corridors of the Level 3 living area, their
boots thundering on the floor--the men of Charlie and Echo
Units.
They came to a pressure-sealed manhole in the carpet.
A code was entered and the circular hatch came free with a
sharp hiss, revealing a crawl space between the floor of
Level 3 and the ceiling of Level 4. Another pressure hatch
lay directly beneath this one--the entry to Level 4.
manhole.
"Control, this is Charlie Leader," Python Willis said
into his headset mike. "We are at the manhole leading to the
observation lab on Level 4. Preparing to storm the floor from
above."
"Do it!" Caesar's voice replied.
Python nodded to his man in the crawl space.
The commando released the pressure valve and let the
hatch drop to the floor ten feet below him. Then he jumped
down to the ground after it, three others close behind him,
their P-90's aimed and ready.
Nothing.
The lab around them was empty.
There came a loud mechanical rumbling from within
the walls.
The 7th Squadron men whirled around as one.
It was the sound of the hydraulic aircraft elevator platform.
The commandos of Charlie and Echo Units hurried
down the short sloping walkway that led from the observation
lab to the aircraft elevator shaft.
They got there just in time to see the underside of the
area 7 167
giant elevator platform rising up into the shaft above them,
heading for the main hangar.
Python Willis spoke into his helmet mike. "Control, this
is Charlie Leader. They're going for the Football."
THE GIGANTIC AIRCRAFT ELEVATOR GROANED LOUDLY AS IT
lumbered up the wide concrete shaft.
It moved slowly, carrying the crumpled remains of the
crashed AWACS plane on its back.
The plane lay tilted forward, like a wounded bird, its
nose lower than its destroyed
rear section, its broken wings
splayed wide. The plane's rotodome--still intact--towered
high above the whole sorry image.
The massive elevator rumbled up the greasy concrete
shaft.
As it passed the open doorway to the level 1 hangar
bay, however, three tiny figures quickly leapt off it, hustling
into the underground hangar.
It was Mother and Brainiac and, puffing along behind
them, Herbie Franklin.
They were heading for the central junction box that
Franklin had said was located in the Level 1 hangar bay, to
disable Area 7's camera system.
The hangar was deserted now, the 7th Squadron men
long gone. The two stealth bombers and the lone SR-71
Blackbird still stood silently in the cavernous space, like a
trio of sleeping sentinels.
Mother checked her watch as she skirted the left-hand
wall of the hangar.
8:20.
Ten minutes to get the President to the Football.
As she moved along the concrete wall, watchful for
area 7 169
enemy soldiers, she saw a large box-shaped compartment at
the far end of it. The compartment's ten-foot-tall steel door
was twisted and bent, partially destroyed.
"Oh, yeah," she said.
"What?" Herbie asked from behind her.
"Our little run-in with the 7th Squadron up here earlier,"
Mother said. "They got a couple of Stingers off--one hit
that compartment, the other punctured some water tanks inside
the wall over by the personnel elevator."
"Oh," Herbie said.
"Let's see what's left," Mother said.
upstairs, the giant elevator platform rose slowly into
the main hangar.
The remains of the AWACS plane appeared first, rising
above the rim of the square-shaped shaft.
Then the exploded rear section of the fuselage ...
... followed by the intact rotodome ...
... then the snapped wings ...
The rest of the battered plane rose slowly into view and
then, with a loud boom!, the platform came level with the
hangar floor and stopped.
There was a long silence.
The ground-level hangar bore the scars of the battle that
had taken place there nearly an hour and a half before.
Marine One--still attached to its towing vehicle--stood