Rick Mofina - Six Seconds

Update on the complaint of a mysterious explosion claiming three white-tailed deer-according to the number of hooves found-near Malmstrom AFB: The specialized unit had responded. Priority given to the ongoing investigation. Accidental detonation was ruled out. “Substance involved yet to be identified.” Investi gators with the unit note concern as the area is indica tive of a “planned test.”

FTO update: U.S. and foreign intelligence agencies report that chatter of foreign terrorist organizations continues at an “unusually high level.”

As the pope’s plane neared Great Falls, Hank Colby, the Special Agent in charge of the detail, called Walker and the other agents to the back for a private huddle.

“A heads-up. The White House is talking about pulling the plug on the Montana visit, possibly Chicago, too.”

“Now? At this stage? Do they know something we don’t?”

“They’re extremely uncomfortable with the situation and the fact none of the ongoing incidents has been recon ciled with the intel obtained from Issa al-Issa. The data concerning hidden cells in the U.S. developing a major strike during the papal visit is making senior staff anxious.”

“Has something been corroborated?” Walker asked.

“Not that we know. Could be that the NSA or State picked up something hot,” Colby said. “The Secret

Service brass have been summoned to the Oval Office. The White House is leaning on the CIA, Homeland and the Intelligence Division to nail down some answers now so they can press the Vatican to agree. If this is po litical, it’s beyond us.”

The pilot came over the public address and re quested everyone to return to their seats and buckle up for the landing.

“Until we’re told otherwise,” Colby said, “the visit continues as planned.”

In keeping with presidential or VIP landings, a Tem porary Flight Restriction had been issued for the Great Falls International Airport, closing it to all traffic but the papal aircraft.

A Montana Highway Patrol helicopter patrolled the space immediately above the landing field. On the ground, a range of VIP and emergency vehicles waited. All roads to the airport had been sealed and all activity at the facility had been halted.

Two fighters roared over the runway at rooftop level several minutes before the pope’s jet landed.

A line of Secret Service, military, state and local emergency vehicles followed it as it taxied to a far ramp.

Walker saw the line of local dignitaries waiting to welcome the Holy Father. Some fifty yards beyond them and behind a cordoned area with a heavy police presence, were several thousand people.

They cheered as history unfolded before them. The pope emerged from his jet, the first pope ever to walk on Montana soil.

The Holy Father smiled and waved as he was greeted by the archbishop, the governor, the mayor and a long line of local officials. After making a short address be fore the group, the pope was escorted to a large military helicopter.

Within minutes it lifted off, along with four others carrying security, Vatican, international press and sup port personnel to Lone Tree County. The entourage would meet the advance teams and crews already onsite.

Walker ensured his seat belt was secure.

This was shaping up to be the longest day in his life.

Indian Head, Maryland

Some twenty miles south of Washington, D.C., in southern Maryland, Tony Takayasu’s team worked against time.

In a redbrick lab, tucked in a wooded corner of the military base that overlooked the Potomac River, they applied Takayasu’s suppositions.

What if the mysterious liquid smuggled off the west coast was linked to the explosion in Montana? And what if the substance found in the bottles was a com ponent of the unknown explosive used to kill the deer? The liquid was labelled as Nigerian. The flag’s fabric was a weave common to East Africa.

These were the theories Takayasu had put to his col leagues on the flight from Malmstrom and, upon landing at Indian Head, they began working on them.

Employing test after test. It took hours but they learned that the flag was more than just cotton fabric from a weave common to the Ethiopian highlands. It had been engineered with molecular nanotechnology. It was permeated with a new explosive liquid substance that could be detonated through the millions of nano radio receptors.

The process was invisible and undetectable by sniffer dogs, swabs, scopes and scanners. It rendered the fabric a powerful explosive that could be detonated at will through a complex, coded, superlow frequency signal. Theoretically, that signal could be sent from a few feet away, or through wireless transmission from anywhere in the world.

It was a perfect weapon.

To test their work, the team tried to replicate the ex plosion with the recovered components. They set up in the Naval Ordnance Station in an isolated location. They’d affixed a piece of the fabric over a watermelon suspended in netting from a tree. A happy face had been drawn on the melon.

With laptops displaying mathematical calculations and chemical formulas, the team had programmed a digital camera. Through a small open observation window behind a blast shield, Takayasu used the auto focus and snapped a photo from forty yards away.

Seconds passed without a reaction-twenty, thirty, forty, then a full minute.

Nothing happened.

“Tony, I don’t think the fabric’s aligned with the focus beam,” Karen Dyer said, “I’ll move it.”

As she left the shield and walked to the watermelon, Ron Addison, one of the team’s scientists, held his open hand to Takayasu. “Maybe it’s the camera, Tony, let me check.”

While Addison inspected the camera, Takayasu verified readings on one of the laptops. As Karen was about to touch the melon, Addison raised the camera to his eye to photograph her just as Takayasu was alarmed by a reading on the computer.

“Ron, no!” Takayasu seized the camera. “Karen! Get away! Don’t touch it!”

Karen returned to the shield.

“Look at these readings.”

The team huddled around his laptop. “Now, let’s try it.” With his team safe behind the shield, Takayasu snapped a second picture- crack! — the air rippled, the shield shuddered as meaty chunks of the melon splat tered against it.

For several long seconds the group stood in stunned silence.

“My Lord.” Karen’s face went white.

“We need to make a lot of calls. Now!” Taka yasu said.

Lone Tree County Fairgrounds, Montana

Samara drove some two miles outside of town to the fairgrounds.

Situated on an unbroken stretch of short grass, the grounds consisted of a cluster of pavilions-metal and wooden buildings that were used for horse, cattle, needlework and baking shows. Nearby, the soupy dirt infield of the rodeo park served as the site of bucking horse and demolition derby competitions, crowd pleasers that filled the grandstands.

Today, the grounds were making history as the mar shaling point for the pope’s visit.

Scores of police and emergency vehicles were gath ered here as radio cross talk filled the air. In minutes, the Holy Father’s helicopter would land in the rodeo park.

“Look!”

Logan glimpsed the waiting popemobile amid a perimeter of dark security vans.

“Wow.”

After their passes were scrutinized, Samara and Logan were permitted to park. Then they followed the posted signs and trekked across the grounds to Cowboy Exhibition Hall, where those taking part in the school portion of the visit would be briefed.

A burst of abrupt barking greeted them when they entered the hall.

Three police dogs were at the far end among a dozen armed officers, waiting at walk-through metal detectors and other security equipment set up on tables. The dogs and radios echoed against the building’s metal walls.