"Okay, we have a starting point. Andy, get with the EPA and get me some exact numbers on the leakage. Knowing Chavez, he's going to start throwing around accusations, and we've been his popular target lately. I do not want another leader of a third world nation saying we did something we did not do. Steve, I want you to head up the relief for Caracas. Get as much food, medical, and other essential material down there as we can spare. Those people need help regardless of who their leader is."
Steve Haskins of Emergency Management nodded and made notes.
"Ken, Admiral Fuqua: best guess, who could have done this?"
"Ladies and gentlemen, with the exception of the Directors of CIA, FBI, NSA, the Secretary of Defense, and the National Security Advisor and the Joint Chiefs, would you please excuse us. Mr. President, I don't know who's on the other end of that camera, but I advise shutting it down," General Caulfield said, suspecting that the answer lay in the strange little man who had assisted in the Atlantis operation a few weeks before, part of the president's private think tank.
"I'll leave it on for now, Ken. With the exception of those named, please excuse us."
The rest of the cabinet and council filed quickly from the room.
When the room cleared, Caulfield nodded toward Admiral Fuqua, who stood and pulled down a viewing screen as the lights dimmed.
"Mr. President, we have information we received from the attack boat USS Columbia, one of our newest Los Angeles class subs. She is the asset I spoke of earlier. She may have picked up a glimmer of something else, maybe the attacking force, we're not sure. As you see, this is a tape of her sonar."
On the screen was the waterfall display from the BQQ passive sonar display on Columbia. It was a series of lines running downward on the screen, and these lines represented the water around the sub. As they watched, there was nothing out of the ordinary on the display screen. Then a shadow of darkness presented itself for a split second and vanished.
"This object was thought at first to be a glitch in the sonar, but we have learned the object was solid, and we caught it only because of the burst of speed it displayed when it started diving away from the attack area. It's three and a half miles off Columbia's bow. The estimate of its size is close to a thousand feet in length, and it went from a static, or zero buoyancy, position to over seventy knots."
Several men started speaking at once while the president sat in his chair looking at the sonar display.
"This object was verified by a depth chart graph showing the keel of Columbiaraised eight feet in depth as whatever this thing is passed beneath her--and that is substantiated. So with this strange blip on sonar, coupled with the massive water displacement, there's little doubt we have one hell of a problem out there," Fuqua added.
Far beneath Nellis Air Force Base, the conference room was silent. The events the department heads had been witness to while attached to the department would never allow for surprise at any one thing they were shown. Unlike the military and intelligence people at the White House, they were at least accustomed to holding their opinions until all the details could be brought out into the open. As Niles watched the Group, he saw Virginia Pollock was deep in thought, biting her lower lip.
"I don't believe anything can travel that fast," the president said from the White House.
"Columbiais due home this afternoon, sir. We have a team on standby ready to board her and take that sonar system apart. But as it stands right now, we may have something in the sea that will prevent us from securing the sea lanes," Fuqua answered, returning to his seat as the lights came up.
"Okay, thank you. Get me the information as soon as you can. I have a phone meeting with the president of China in fifteen minutes, so excuse me for now, gentlemen."
After everyone had left, the president picked up the phone and hit a small button.
"So, Bookworm, what do you think of that?"
Niles Compton looked around, embarrassed at the use of the president's nickname for him. There were smiles all around as the department heads started gathering their notes to leave. Niles quickly snapped his fingers and got Everett's attention, gesturing him back down into his seat.
"What I think is irrelevant at this point. If the navy is worried, it doesn't do much to spark confidence in myself, especially as weak as we are at the moment."
"You have people out there that can outthink anyoneI have. Get someone on this and find out if history says we may have a problem here. Technology like this couldn't have sprung up overnight. The research for it may be somewhere in your vast files."
"Already on it," Niles answered.
"I hate using you as a crutch here, Niles, but--well, do your thing for me. Now, how's the Group doing?" the president asked with concern.
"Losing Jack and his people--well, we were never really geared for these kinds of losses, but we're moving on."
"Okay, Mr. Director, I have to go and speak with the Chinese about their destroyed sub."
"Yes, sir," Niles said as he terminated the call and turned toward Everett. "You seem to be someplace other than here, Captain."
"Is it that obvious?" he asked as he rubbed his tired eyes.
"Are you getting any sleep?" Alice Hamilton, the director's assistant since 1945, asked.
Virginia didn't say anything as she looked down at her notepad.
"Have you spoken with Sarah since she went home?" Alice asked.
Everett smiled at Alice's question. She always knew how to get directly to the point, and did it with a modicum of grandmotherly censure that didn't make you feel like a thief of her time.
"She'll heal. She is tougher than she thinks--hell, we all are."
Niles nodded his head, and then brought the team back to the business at hand.
"Virginia, get some expertise on naval functions from Captain Everett, and also start investigating these clean nukes. Somewhere in our files we have information on those who have come close to making such weapons. Not much, but that's where we'll start."
Niles saw Virginia nod her head once, but she remained silent as she took her notepad and left without acknowledging anyone.
LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS
Second Lieutenant Sarah McIntire sat in her darkened bedroom and stared at the wall. She absentmindedly reached up with her right hand and lightly rubbed her shoulder, which was still in a sling. The music she was listening to was as dark as her room, and her thoughts. The Moody Blues had been one of Jack's favorites, and Sarah now found that she couldn't get enough, particularly of the dark melody emanating from the small speakers in the corner. "Nights in White Satin," their most haunting song, sank deep into Sarah's soul and burned itself into her psyche.
A single tear built in her left eye and then slowly traveled down her cheek as she absently wiped it away. She was still weak from the bullet she had taken in the battle for the sunken city of Atlantis, and she knew that because of losing Jack, her recovery was lagging.
The door opened and her mother, not hesitating as she had done the past week, stepped inside, flipping on the light switch. Her next move made Sarah wake up as the stereo was turned off abruptly.
"From what you told me of this fella Jack, I don't think he would care for you sittin' here in the dark, moping around and feeling sorry for yourself. You need to get up and work some of this despair out of your system."