"Absolutely."

Reimer jotted a quick note and then continued saying, "From the late sixties to the mid-seventies the Soviets tested a series of atomic demolition munitions. ADMs. We don't know a lot about these because they were not designed for military purposes."

"Then what were they for?" asked the president.

"A significant part of the Kazakh test site is rich in salt deposits. The idea behind these tests was to create extremely cheap and large underground storage facilities for oil, natural gas, and radioactive waste."

"Did it work?"

"No. A Soviet scientist who was involved in the program defected in 1979, and gave us detailed information about the results. Our scientific people looked into it and agreed that it was something that wasn't worth pursuing."

"So how would al-Qaeda get their hands on this bomb?" the president asked.

In Reimer's mind there were only two possibilities. One of them, that the Soviets had sold the material, was extremely remote, and he wasn't about to throw it out in front of this group until he knew more. The other possibility, that al-Qaeda actually retrieved the material from the test site themselves, was more likely, but there were others at the table who were in a better position to answer, so he said, "I'm not sure, Mr. President."

Secretary of State Berg leaned forward and looked at CIA Director Kennedy. "We need to get the Russians involved."

"I agree. They can lean on the Kazakhs better than we can."

The president looked across at Flood. "General?"

"I concur. They don't want this stuff floating around any more than we do. They might not tell us everything they find, but they'll deal with the problem."

"What does that mean exactly?" asked Jones.

"On something this big," Flood answered, "people will be marched in front of a firing squad, and if they want to save themselves and their families they'll be given one last chance to confess."

Rapp simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to make his opinion on a related matter known. "You mean like we should do with the two guys we picked up in Charleston."

If anyone other than Rapp had made the comment, there would have been a smattering of laughter, but because it was him, everyone assumed correctly that he meant it.

President Hayes decided to let the comment pass. He had been warned by Kennedy that Rapp wouldn't like the move by the Justice Department, but he knew when he had the opportunity he'd be able to talk some sense into him.

"It goes without saying that we need to keep all of this very quiet," Hayes said. "So far the press has no idea just how destructive this weapon could've been, and I stress the wordcould. I've talked to Paul about this." The president glanced at Reimer. "This device was never fully assembled, and even then, it would have had to have been put together by someone highly skilled or it would have never reached its full destructive power. Therefore, it is highly likely it would have been nothing more than a subatomic yield. So...for reasons that should be apparent to all of us, from this point forward the device will be referred to only as a dirty bomb in official circles."

Rapp clenched and then flexed his hands in agitation. A disaster had been averted, but there was still real work to be done and instead they were playing word games. He couldn't resist pointing out the obvious.

He looked down the length of the table. "Paul, would Dr. Imtaz Zubair be skilled enough to assemble the weapon so that it could obtain its optimal yield?"

Reimer nodded, "Yes."

Chief of Staff Jones asked, "Who is Dr. Zubair?"

"He's a Pakistani nuclear scientist who entered the country on Monday using a false passport." Rapp looked directly at the president and then Jones. "You haven't heard of him?"

"Yes, we've heard of him," snapped Jones. "We've got a little bit more to worry about than the name of every terrorist who's trying to attack us."

"Val, after he arrived at LAX, do you know where he went?"

"No." Jones began jotting down notes as if Rapp had already lost her attention.

"Atlanta." Undeterred, Rapp turned to the attorney general and his deputy. FBI Director Roach, who was sitting next to Stokes, thought he knew what was coming and slid his chair back a bit to get out of the way.

"Do we know anyone else from Atlanta?" asked Rapp in an ominously calm voice. "Maybe a couple of Saudi immigrants who tried to pick up a nuclear bomb yesterday?"

Before the attorney general could answer Peggy Stealey asked, "What's your point, Mr. Rapp?"

Rapp was caught slightly off guard that the blonde had answered for her boss but he returned her unwavering stare. "Do you think that just maybe those two guys you have locked up out in Fairfax might be able to tell us where to start looking for Dr. Zubair?"

"Mr. Rapp, our investigation is proceeding just fine, so I still don't see your point."

"Have you found, Dr. Zubair?"

"No, Mr. Rapp, we haven't, but rest assured we will."

Rapp was not about to give up. "Forgive me if I don't share your confidence."

Stealey chose to ignore the jab.

Rapp wasn't inclined to quit just yet. "What information have you gotten out of the two men in jail?"

Stealey looked at him as if she had tired of this line of questioning and was just barely able to conceal her impatience. "Mr. Rapp, this is a domestic issue that is already in front of the courts."

"And your point is..."

"The two suspects in question have a lawyer," she said now with a healthy dose of irritation in her voice. "Surely you are not suggesting torture as a method to get these men to talk?"

"I don't give ashit what you use to get them to talk. Just get them talking, and do it fast."

Stealey's face flushed, but her piercing eyes never left Rapp's. "This is entirely ludicrous."

Rapp was beyond the point of caring. "I'll tell you what's ludicrous. Mustafa al-Yamani, one of al-Qaeda's top lieutenants, is in America right now, and I'll guarantee you the two men you have in custody have information that could help us capture him."

"Mr. Rapp, the Justice Department doesn't tell you how to conduct your business outside this country, so I suggest you return the favor and let us handle things here in America."

"Actually you do try to tell me how to do my job. I just choose to ignore you."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to do the same."

"How do you know they don't have another bomb? How do you know they don't have another attack planned? We can't take the chance. Those men you have in jail need to be interrogated, and don't tell me you can't find a federal judge to revoke their citizenship, because if you can't, I can think of one that'll have it all taken care of in thirty minutes."

"And we'll have a media nightmare on our hands," growled Valerie Jones. "I am fed up with these outbursts." She looked to Rapp's boss. "If you can't control him, don't bring him to these meetings anymore."

Rapp stood up so fast his chair toppled over. He slammed his left hand down flat on the table. "Outbursts," he shouted at Jones. "These two pricks were planning on wiping Washington, D.C., off the map! I think the American people might cut us a little slack if we decide to deny them their day in court!"

"That's it." The president stood and pointed at Rapp and then Kennedy. "My office! Right now!"