Security: Jack Randall #4, page 23
Stovall handed the phone back to Carson who covered it with a hand.
“How are we going to get them out?”
“I don’t know yet, but I didn’t see a reason to tell him that.”
Carson said, “I have an idea if you want to hear it.”
“Go.”
“The security cameras are on a rotating loop. All of them have been showing the same picture for the last hour. I’ve been watching the terrorist and he’s paying less and less attention to the cameras.”
“So, if we try to approach they’ll see us out the windows or on the camera. Either way we’re screwed. We’d need to get at least four men on the landing below the control room before we can assault the place.”
“Right, so we can’t approach from the outside. What if I said I’d found a way into the generator room?”
“I looked at that. They’d still see us from the windows, even if we approached from the water.”
“Not if we come in from the turbine room.”
“And how do we do that?”
“Turbine six is down. They’re replacing the shaft. We enter at the bottom and climb up the shaft housing. The cap on the generator is closed. It looks just like every other one in there. We can open it from the inside and gain access from there.”
“Who told you this?”
“One of the night maintenance guys just came in. His wife woke him up when she saw what was happening on TV.”
“A man can fit though those shafts?”
“It’ll be tight, but he says so.”
“What about the cameras?”
“We hijack the feed and run a loop in its place.”
“Can you do that?”
“I don’t know, I was about to find out.”
Stovall examined the blueprints, mentally running through Carson’s idea from every angle. It was risky, but it was better than anything he had come up with so far. He focused on the control tower. They would have to make some breaching charges to blow the door open if they were going for a frontal assault. The door was steel and heavy, and they risked taking out a section of the concrete wall with it. Dangerous. Especially with a man just inside. If he saw them come up the stairs it was all over. The leader would push the button and blow the whole top of that tower off. Unless?
“Are those walls poured or block?”
“Block. Why?”
Stovall said, “Tell Thor to bring the Barrett up and find a place where he can reach that entrance with some armor piercing rounds.”
Carson saw where he was going and smiled. “You got it.”
“And check out those turbine shafts.”
He bolted for the door.
“And get those cameras hacked!”
“I’m on it!”
THE TUNNELS
“They think like you. This is crazy,” Jason said when he was done reading.
“It’s the only logical option.”
“Logical? What are you, Dr. Spock now? This is stupid.”
“Calm down. We have to think our way out of this. First the math. How long will it take you to get the elevator working again?”
“Ten minutes, maybe less.”
“We get back to the elevator. You work on that while I find Greg and the others. Be ready to go when they show up and get them and you the hell out of here.”
“Okay, I— Wait a minute. They? Where are you going to be?”
“Greg and I stay to remove the safety locks.”
“Jack?”
“I know. Hopefully Greg’s still armed. We’ll fight our way out the entrance or something. Let’s go.”
“Not very logical.”
“Not my first time hearing that.”
Jason followed Jack out of the machine. He grabbed a few items from a tool box.
Jack was right, they had to think their way out of this. There had to be a better way.
But how?
THE CONTROL TOWER
“How you doing, Eric?” Kianna whispered.
“Head still hurts. I’m back into the power control functions and the records files but I still need to get into the operational stuff. That’s where the valve controls are. If they had attacked five minutes earlier this would still be wide open. Most of my tools for this are on my laptop. I’m kind of stuck with a limited tool box with my tablet.”
“Tools?”
“Malware mostly. Software I used to get in here in the first place. The problem is that my fixes made a bunch of them redundant. I need a tool box and all I have is a crescent wrench.”
“What about your friend?”
“He’s following my lead but he doesn’t know where to go. It’s hard to explain.”
Sydney asked, “Is your friend over the age of twelve?”
“Yeah, he’s thirty-something. Why?”
“You told me security was so bad here that a twelve-year-old could do it, and now you and your friend can’t. I’m kind of glad I don’t get it. My head would probably explode.”
Eric lay back and closed his eyes. How could he be so stupid! He looked at Sydney. “You are so much smarter than you think.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“The kid’s hack. I was saving it for last and forgot all about it. He left a trapdoor so he could get in again whenever he wanted.”
“So?”
“It’s still there and I still have his passwords. I need to forward this to Patrick.”
“Who’s Patrick?”
“Nobody. Forget I ever said that, please.”
PORT COLBURN
Hank stopped and Pat crawled into him again. He could make out the wall. It ended at a corner. The smoke was only feet above the floor now and he could see only a few feet in front of him. The woman coughed, and Pat took a deep breath before removing his mask. He placed it over her face and urged her to breathe. She sucked the air in at a rapid rate until calming down. He gently pried the mask away before placing it over the unconscious woman’s face.
Coughing, Hank pointed. “I say we cross. The hallway has to continue on the other side.”
Pat wiggled his butt to turn off his movement detector before motioning him on. He got the mask back on his face. Ten feet later they found the hallway again.
“Where the hell is everybody!”
A light pierced the darkness and Pat saw shapes crawling toward them.
“Over here!”
Two firefighters appeared in the smoke, one of them carrying a thermal imagery camera. They grabbed the unconscious woman and led the way. Pat followed as best he could, his legs and shoulders burning from the constant effort. A patch of light appeared and hands reached out to grab them. As soon as he was outside he tore the mask off and rolled over, too exhausted to move.
The chief’s smiling face gazed down at him.
“What the hell was that? Don’t do that again!”
“Sorry, boss, bio lab had a gas tank. It blew before we could get out.”
“Anybody else in there?”
Pat said, “Two dead.”
“On your feet.” Mike hauled the man up. Someone swapped out his tank while his boss held him still.
“I think they’re the bus drivers,” Pat said.
“What?”
“They’re the bus drivers!” he said louder. “They have the keys!”
Mike let go and Pat almost fell. The chief searched the belt of the nearest driver and found a ring of keys. He searched the other woman and found more keys. He matched up the numbers.
Mike grabbed the principal.
“What’s the count?”
“All the kids are out.”
“Take these and get those buses moving!”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know how to drive one of those.”
Mike stuffed a key into the man’s hand. “Either learn real fast or find a kid who can. Just get going!”
Another explosion sounded from the lock and Mike turned to see more flaming coal flying upward.
“Move! Now!”
The man ran. The firefighters dove under their truck as coal rained down. The buses started up and hurriedly pulled away. Coal bounced off their orange roofs but they soon disappeared around the corner and headed off due east.
“What now, chief?” Hank asked.
Mike studied the school. The north end had partially collapsed and the rest was on fire. But it was empty.
“The school’s done for. We have to get the people out. Take truck one and head for the bridge. Clear from there to the east. The rest of you start checking these houses. Clear Clark, Humbold and Wellington. Go!”
Men scrambled from under the truck. Pat and Hank dove into the ladder truck and got ready to move. The chief got on the radio.
“Janet?”
“I’m here, Mike.”
“You have any idea how far the fires reach?”
“Not much past Elizabeth to the east and Killaly to the south. The baseball fields helped. No idea what’s happening north of Three or across the canal.”
“Okay, put out a call for pickup trucks. Anybody who has one or can drive one, I need them staged at Elizabeth and Killaly. Stage the ambulances there, too. We’ll call them in as we need them. The dam boat is still exploding and I don’t want anybody in the zone unless they need to be. You get us some help?”
“Coast Guard, every surrounding fire unit, and every police unit everyone can spare, but it’ll be awhile. Hospitals are on alert for a mass casualty. The Yanks are sending a rapid response medical unit.”
“Roger, send ’em to Three and north. We’re clearing the first three streets east of the lock. The high school is clear. Don’t let some stupid parent go rushing in there.”
“Got it! You guys okay?”
Mike looked back at his men. They looked exhausted but were gearing up for more. He turned his gaze outside and saw a man carrying his wife down the street away from his burning home. Burning coal landed all around him. A dog ran by with a spot of singed hair on its back, yelping in pain. Three out of the five house in front of him were on fire. The sun was blocked out by the massive cloud of smoke coming from the lock. He had never seen anything like it.
“Yeah,” he lied. “We’re okay.”
SEAWOLF GETS A SECRET UPGRADE
—Strategy Page
—THIRTY-ONE—
ODENTON, MARYLAND
“Are you frickin’ kidding me? Five hours! We could’ve been in five hours ago! What the hell, did you hit your head on something?” Patrick vented to the room at top volume. His downstairs neighbor tapped on his ceiling and Patrick stomped a foot in return.
He soon had root access to the mainframe computer and could see everything. First he located the auxiliary cameras for the tunnel and saw the empty cockpit of the boring machine and a still conveyor. Next he saw the body of a construction worker lying next to a shot-up truck outside the tunnel entrance. The last screen showed the valve safety mechanism at the top of the tunnel, dimly lit by a small spotlight next to the camera. A rope and some rigging hung off to one side along with a thick metal bar anchored to the wall of the tunnel and disappearing straight down.
“Okay, okay. Now I can get somewhere. We’re in, Florey! You hear me? We’re in.”
The cat turned his head at the sound of his name but saw no reason to get up. He rolled to a more comfortable position on the pizza box and went back to sleep. His owner was being irritating today.
“Link to Larry,” Patrick muttered as he sent the feed. From there it would go to this Stovall guy at the dam. He almost called him but held off. They would just ask a bunch of questions he didn’t have answers to yet and he had other work to do.
Ten minutes later he located the valve controls. They were hydraulic with two backups and a large capacitor that could engage an emergency closure if needed.
In theory.
It had never been tested under the conditions it was expected to operate in. What else? Magnetic safety locks that he could also operate remotely. Okay, made sense. The manual safeties were still in place to prevent an inadvertent, and disastrous, opening while the construction was going on. He counted them. Three. Three blocks of steel that prevented the valve from moving. All it would take was a simple twist and push and they would slide into their respective holes. The body of the valve itself would shield them from the water after it opened. Simple, yet effective.
He stared at the blocks of steel on the screen. They were all that stood in the way of him flooding the tunnel and flushing those fuckers right out into the lake. From there it would be shooting fish in a barrel. A big barrel, but the concept held.
Now if this Jack guy could just remove the locks.
THE TUNNELS
Jacobs wrapped the last can with their final yard of tape before setting it down next to the others.
“That’s six frags and two smokes. Now what?”
Greg said, “Now we see what our options are.”
“How we going to do that?”
“Mitch?”
“Yeah?” came his voice from below them.
“They don’t know you’re here. You’ll have to go see if the elevator is still an option.”
Silence.
“Mitch?”
“Yeah. I heard ya. Not really liking that idea.”
Greg waved the others quiet and waited. After a minute he tried again.
“Mitch, I wouldn’t ask but—”
“No, no. It’s okay. I’m on it.”
Greg unzipped his coveralls and struggled with the arms while sitting. His calf throbbed in protest. Jacobs yanked on a sleeve to help him. From behind his back Greg produced a Glock-17. He handed it to Jacobs.
“Give him this.”
“You had this the whole time?”
“If I’d let them know I had it they might have figured out that I wasn’t just another worker here.”
Jacobs thought about it for a couple of seconds. “Good choice.” He palmed the weapon and took it to the edge of the cage. Mitch appeared and looked surprised by the offering. He exchanged it for the cutters the terrorist had tossed away.
“Nice,” Mitch said. “I got one just like it.”
“Good. Just know if you use it they’ll all come running.”
“Got it.” He hefted the gun before disappearing into the supplies.
“If he gets caught with that they might kill him,” Wallace said.
Greg stuffed the items they had made into the backpack.
“That might happen anyway, but I thought he needed the gun more than we did.”
“So what if we make it out? Then what?”
“Hopefully more than we can do in here.”
THE TURBINE ROOM
Carson followed the maintenance man through the concrete tunnel and into the turbine room. The whine of the spinning shafts and the sound of rushing water was masked by the thick steel housing. The cameras had been covered but he checked them before following the man to turbine six. He opened the access hatch to reveal the interior. Carson looked in and down to see the water rushing through the body of the turbine blades before escaping out the bottom. It looked like a giant blender and he was happy there was metal grating between it and him. The top of the turbine had a mounting plate with several large bolts holding nothing. By cranking his head around he was able to look straight up the shaft. He estimated it at five stories. At the top was a black hole. The shaft was tight, maybe a little under thirty-six inches wide. For someone his size, carrying the gear they would need, it was going to be difficult.
“How do you usually get up there?”
“We don’t, we go around. If we have to pass something we just snake a line down and use the crane.”
“How much room at the top?”
“Quite a bit right now. With the generator and shaft out it’s nothing but a metal shell. Maybe like in a small car.”
“Room for at least four, my size?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
Carson looked at the walls. They were concrete and smooth as glass. Someone was going to have to make the climb up this five-story tube and fix a rope for the others to get up with. At six foot three and 220 pounds he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be him. Carson snapped a couple pictures with his cellphone.
“From the top how far away are the stairs?”
“Maybe twenty yards, give or take.”
“I like it. Let’s go see the boss.”
THE JIMMY CARTER
“Sonar, Bridge. Any change?”
Bosun’s Mate Third Class Robert Stevens smiled at the question before he glanced at his readouts and keyed the mic to reply to the captain. The man was old-school. He had the latest technology at his fingertips, but he still liked his crew to confirm what it was telling him. Stevens liked that.
“No change in speed or heading, Captain. Passing on our port side at sixteen knots, five thousand meters.”
“Very well. Let’s start a signature.”
“Already started, sir. I’ve designated this target as Sierra One.”
“Good man.”
Captain David Jones looked up and to his left to verify what he was being told. The bridge of the Jimmy Carter was like no other submarine on earth. The Navy was decades ahead of the rest of the world when it came to digitizing and interpreting sound. The data from the sensors mounted down the sides, spine and belly of the boat, combined with those on the towed array, fed a weapons system that was more valuable than stealth technology. It digested the information, interpreted it, and then projected a 3D holographic image of the surrounding ocean into the air around the captain. A headset tracked his eyes and a handheld control allowed him to obtain information on any object he looked at. With a magazine full of torpedoes and vertical launch tubes stocked with Harpoon missiles, he could engage multiple surface and underwater threats simultaneously. Without surfacing he could deploy a team of SEALs or launch a Tomahawk cruise missile strike on any target within 1200 miles. All without being detected, even by whales, which they would often watch stroll by after he had ordered the biological filters turned off. His boat was a black hole. An invisible warrior that saw and heard everything around it. The Carter was a silent extension of America’s military reach, its eyes and ears, missing nothing. The Navy had an official name for the weapons system, but most called it Aquaman.
