"At least twenty people left there this afternoon in a bus for an alleged in-service in the mock control room of the Old Point plant. They were men, white, thirties to early forties, posing as employees, which they obviously are not.
And they managed to get into the main building where the control room is located."
"They were armed," I said.
"Yes. When it was time for them to go through the x-ray machines and other detectors at the main building, they pulled out semiautomatic weapons. As you know, people have been killed-we think at least three CP amp;L employees, including a nuclear physicist who just happened to be paying a site visit today and was going through security at the wrong time."
"What are their demands?" I asked, and I wondered how much Wesley had known and for how long. "Have they said what they want?"
He met my eyes. "That's what worries us the most. We don't know what they want."
"But they're letting people go," Marino said.
"I know. And that worries me, too," Wesley stated.
"Terrorists generally don't do that." His telephone rang.
"This is different." He picked up the receiver. "Yes," he said. "Good. Send him in."
Major General Lynwood Sessions was in the uniform of the Navy he served when he entered the office and shook hands with each of us. He was black, maybe forty-five and handsome in a way that was not to be dismissed. He did not take off his jacket or even loosen a button as he formally took a chair and set a fat briefcase beside him.
"General, thank you for coming," Wesley began.
"I wish it were for a happier reason," he said as he bent over to get out a file folder and legal pad.
"Don't we all," Wesley said. "This is Captain Pete Marino with Richmond, and Dr. Kay Scarpetta, the chief medical examiner of Virginia." He looked at me and held my gaze. "They work with us. Dr. Scarpetta, as a matter of fact, is the medical examiner in the cases that we believe are related to what is happening today."
General Sessions nodded and made no comment.
Wesley said to Marino and me, "Let me try to tell you what we know beyond the immediate crisis. We have reason to believe that vessels in the Inactive Ship Yard are being sold to countries that should not have them. This includes Iran, Iraq, Libya, North Korea, Algeria."
"What sort of vessels?" Marino asked.
"Mainly submarines. We also suspect that this shipyard is buying vessels from places like Russia and then reselling them."
"And why have we not been told this before?" I asked.
Wesley hesitated. "No one had proof."
"Ted Eddings was diving in the Inactive Yard when he died," I said. "He was near a submarine."
No one replied.
Then the general said, "He was a reporter. It's been suggested that he might have been looking for Civil War relics."
"And what was Danny doing?" I measured my words because I was getting tired of this. "Exploring a historic train tunnel in Richmond?"
"It's hard to know what Danny Webster was into," he said. "But I understand the Chesapeake police found a bayonet in the trunk of his car, and it is consistent with the tool marks left on your slashed tires."
I looked a long time at him. "I don't know where you got your information, but if what you've said is true, then I suspect Detective Roche turned that evidence in."
"I believe he turned in the bayonet, yes."
"I believe all of us in this room can be trusted." I kept my eyes on his. "If there is a nuclear disaster, I am mandated by law to take care of the dead. There are already too many dead at Old Point." I paused. "General Sessions, now would be a very good time to tell the truth."
The men were silent for a moment.
Then the general said, "NAVSEA has been concerned about that shipyard for a while."
"NAVSEA? What the hell is that?" Marino asked.
"Naval Sea Systems Command," he said. "They're the people responsible for making certain that shipyards like the one in question abide by the appropriate standards."
"Eddings had the label N-V-S-E programmed into his fax machine," I said. "Was he in communication with them?"
"He had asked questions," General Sessions said. "We were aware of Mr. Eddings. But we could not give him the answers he wanted. Just as we could not answer you, Dr. Scarpetta, when you sent us a fax asking who we were."
His face was inscrutable. "I'm certain you can understand that."
"What is D-R-M-S out of Memphis?" I then asked.
"Another fax number that Eddings called, as did you," he said. "Defense Reutilization Marketing Service. They handle all surplus sales, which must be approved by NAVSEA."
"This is making sense," I said. "I can see why Eddings would have been in touch with these people. He was on to what was happening at the Inactive Yard, that the Navy's standards were being violated in a rather shocking way.
And he was probing for his story."
"Tell me more about these standards," Marino said.
"Exactly what is the shipyard supposed to abide by?"
"I'll give you an example. If Jacksonville wants the Saratoga or some other aircraft carrier, then NAVSEA makes certain that any work done to it meets the Navy's standards."
"Like in what way?"
"For example, the city has to have the five million it will take to fix it up, and the two million for maintenance each year. And the water in the harbor must be at least thirty feet deep. On the other hand, where the ship is moored, someone from NAVSEA, probably a civilian, is going to appear about once a month and inspect the work being done to the vessel."
"And this has been happening at the Inactive Ship Yard?" I asked.
"Well, right now, we're not sure of the civilian doing it." The general looked straight at me.
Then it was Wesley who spoke, "That's the problem.
There are civilians everywhere, some of them mercenaries who would buy or sell anything with absolute reckless disregard for national security. As you know, a civilian company runs the Inactive Yard. It inspects the ships being sold to cities or for salvage."
"What about the submarine in there now, the Exploiter?" I asked. "The one I saw when I recovered Eddings' body?"
"A Zulu V class ballistic missile sub. Ten torpedo tubes plus two missile tubes. It was made from 1955 to 1957," General Sessions said. "Since the sixties, all subs built in the U.S. are nuclear-powered."
"So the sub we're talking about is old," Marino said.
"It's not nuclear."
The general replied, "It couldn't be nuclear-powered.
But you can put any type of warhead on a missile or torpedo you want."
"Are you saying that the sub 1 dove near might be retrofitted to fire nuclear weapons?" I asked as this frightening specter just loomed bigger.
"Dr. Scarpetta," said the general as he leaned closer to me, "we're not assuming that sub has been retrofitted here in the United States. All that was needed was for it to be brought back up to speed and sent out to sea where it might be intercepted by a principality that should not have it.
Work could be done there. But what Iraq or Algeria cannot do for themselves on their own soil is produce weapons grade plutonium."
"And where is that going to come from?" Marino asked.
It's not like you can get that from a power plant. And if the terrorists think otherwise, then I guess we're dealing with a bunch of redneck dumb shits."
"it would be extremely hard, if not close to impossible, to get plutonium from Old Point," I agreed.
"An anarchist like Joel Hand doesn't think about how hard it might be," Wesley said.
"And it is possible," Sessions added. "For about two months after new fuel rods have been placed in a reactor, there is a window in which you can get plutonium."
"How often are the rods replaced?" Marino asked.
"Old Point replaces one-third of them every fifteen months. That's eighty assemblies, or about three atom bombs if you shut down the reactors and get the assemblies out during that two-month window."