John Krygelski - The Aegis Solution

Tillie, alternating her eyes between what Sweezea was doing and the oncoming person, asked, “Shouldn’t we wait a second?”

Sweezea shrugged. “What for?”

His finger pressed the side of the switch, moving it toward the “arm” position, just as Elias got close enough to see what he was doing. “TIM, DON’T.”

It was too late. The toggle, already more than halfway across, was pulled the rest of the way by the internal spring, with a quiet click.

Elias came to a clumsy halt. He could see the red light shining on the top of the charge. “Don’t set any more!”

Sweezea stood from his crouch next to the device and said, “We’re done. That was the last.”

Leah arrived, panting from her sprint behind Elias.

Tillie had a wry grin on her face.

Confusion clouded Elias’ mind, and for a moment he was unable to speak. Sweezea bent down and reached into his pack, which was resting on the concrete next to the last bomb. He pulled out a small, green, flat rectangle and held it up. “You were worried about this?”

Elias took a step forward and saw that he was holding a small circuit board. The adrenalin-fueled frenzy of the past minutes subsided slightly, allowing his mind to focus. “The timer.”

A broad grin spreading across his face, Sweezea explained, “I’d love to take the credit for it, but actually it was Tillie’s idea to open up the units and check them out.”

“I figured,” she added, “that since Faulk supplied them, they might be bogus.”

“We just found out…,” Elias muttered, his voice fading out.

“That they were booby-trapped? No kidding. Big time.” Sweezea tossed the board to Elias, who bobbled it clumsily before catching it.

“As we rounded them up and were bringing the batch down here, Tillie told me the whole story. I agreed with her that we’d better check them out before we used them. Whatever they had planned for these babies to do had to be hidden in the primary, since it controls and detonates all the slaves, so I opened it up. Right on top of the detonator was that" — he pointed at the circuit board Elias was holding — “all wired in and ready to go. I disconnected the outputs and ran it through its program in diagnostic mode. That’s when I saw the overrides they had set up. Man, that dude really hated you. No matter what time you entered for a delay, the second you armed the last slave, BOOM!”

“There’s also a second override…,” Leah said, still panting slightly from her dash through the tunnel.

“Yep,” Sweezea responded smugly. “If you didn’t do a thing with them, they were all set to go off at midnight tonight.”

“Same time as the scheduled release of the bug,” Leah noted.

Elias relaxed. “If you took out the circuit board, what are you using now to control the detonators?”

“I thought you spooks knew your ordnance better than that,” Sweezea teased. “That flimsy little wafer you’re holding is the weakest part of the bomb. In field conditions, about a third of ’em crack at the tiny little connections. Imagine jumping out of an airplane behind enemy lines, grabbing your ordnance, which fell alongside you in a crate hanging under a parachute and crashed to the ground, unpacking it, loading it up, toting it through heavy fire to the target, going to set it, and getting a blank LED screen. The Army specs a backup board to be packed inside the primary. Four screws, and you lift out the detonator. Underneath it, protected by bubble wrap and a waterproof, factory-sealed plastic skin, is a nice, clean, and dry backup circuit board, all ready to plug in, program, and go.”

Elias shook his head in amazement. “Tim, I don’t know what to say.”

Sweezea shrugged, still smiling. “A simple HOO-AH will do.”

Elias gratefully walked to him and put his arm on the tall sergeant’s shoulder. “HOO-AH!”

The five had withdrawn back to the basin and climbed the rope, with Leah having the most difficulty, due to the injuries from her captivity and during the firefight. They had an additional fifteen minutes by the time they had reached the upper ledge and decided to position themselves within a drainage pipe at a right angle to the overflow. Although Incendergel devices did not create a massive concussive wave, as did traditional explosives, a fireball would be generated and could possibly extend to the basin, despite the distance.

They left one of the flashlights in the overflow tunnel, directed to cast its illumination toward the basin, and silhouette any person who might have entered, managed to get past the snakes, and reached the opening before the explosives detonated. Crabill and Sweezea kept watch on the lighted square, checking their watches frequently.

“We’ve got one minute,” Sweezea announced. “Pull back.”

They had removed the rope after their exit. If anyone arrived at the basin end of the overflow within the next sixty seconds, there would be no way to climb up. All of them had remained standing during the wait, keeping their packs and gear in hand. When Sweezea gave the word, they all turned their backs on the basin and began walking briskly.

Returning to the gathering in the main hall, they found the people there subdued, many with dazed expressions on their faces as they grappled with the reality of what was happening in the world outside the walls of Aegis. Elias and Leah looked for Marilyn to thank her for bringing the message; within a few minutes they saw her surrounded by a small group. She was talking earnestly to them, and it was obvious by her body language, and that of those around her, that she was attempting to help them make some sense of the news they had just recently received from Pierce and Wilson. She made eye contact with Elias and raised an eyebrow questioningly. He gave her a thumbs-up to indicate that all was well. She smiled and resumed her conversation.

Crabill saw two men working on the satellite radio he had removed from Clements’ truck, and he and Sweezea joined them to assist. Wilson was standing in the middle of the crowd, flanked by both Milton and Mildred Pierce, answering questions. Elias talked briefly with Lisa and found out that Matt had gone to the roof of Aegis after the meeting, with the intention of watching the effect of the bombs on the outflow tunnel from above ground.

The door to the dining room, where they had met earlier, was open, and Elias wandered through it, determined to sit down and rest after his frenzied dash. Leah and Tillie followed him and the three dropped into chairs, exhausted.

Leah filled Tillie in on the discussions at the meeting after her sudden departure with Sweezea, and she was relieved to hear that they were going to drop food, water, clothing, and blankets to those outside the wall. Soon there was nothing more to say, and the three lapsed into silence. Through the open doorway, they could hear snatches of comments and exchanges from the residents of Aegis, and they were pleased that the tone, as well as the substance, of what they heard appeared to be serious, inquisitive, sad, helpful, and all of the other reactions which would be appropriate for the situation. No one was loud, irrational, panicked, belligerent, or confrontational, the reactions least needed at a time such as this.

Tillie had slid her chair a foot or so away and was tilting it back to the point of teetering. Her running shoes were plopped on the table. Her hands were laced behind her head as she leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Without bothering to look down, she asked, “Do you think all of us were picked?”

She had voiced the same question Elias had been pondering since the reality of their situation had become clear to him. He shared another question he had come to earlier. “If all of this is being guided by an intelligence greater than we are, why in the world would He pick me?”