Andy McDermott - The Tomb Of Hercules

It wasn’t making microchips.

Chase recognized several barrels as being the same kind that he’d seen in the mine in Botswana. Barrels filled with uranium ore.

They were lined up on a conveyor belt that led into a very large and solid-looking machine. Some kind of furnace; even though it was fully enclosed, the air above it shimmered with heat haze, banks of air conditioners on the ceiling providing cooling. A heavy pipe led off to one side into a thick steel container, seemingly for waste; other pipes went into a second furnace. Although it was smaller than the first, the fact that it was practically buried inside cooling equipment suggested it was far hotter.

From there, more pipes-thick, carrying high-pressure gas-passed into several condenser chambers, light rapidly pulsing through little inspection portholes of six-inch-thick leaded glass. Laser light, the blue flashes pure and unvarying. At the front of each chamber was another steel compartment, where the end result of the process was collected.

Chase knew what the process was; what it made. He’d been briefed on it by the SAS as preparation for a secret mission in Iran, partly so that if he encountered it he could identify it… but mostly so that he could sabotage it.

It was an AVLIS system-Atomic Vapor Laser Isotope Separation-and it had only one purpose: to take uranium ore, vaporize it, and pass the resulting superheated gas through a powerful laser beam of a very specific wavelength. The science had been way over Chase’s head-he was a soldier, not an atomic physicist-but he knew what the laser separated out inside the collection chambers. Enriched uranium, weapons-grade, produced faster, more safely and with greater purity than in traditional gas centrifuge systems.

And as Chase surveyed the rest of the factory, he saw the uranium’s destination.

An assembly line had been set up, a row of at least twenty gleaming stainless-steel cases in progressive stages of completion spaced out along it. Bomb cases.

“Buggeration and fuckery…” he whispered. What he saw below was advanced technology, beyond the capabilities of most nations seeking to join the nuclear club.

But Yuen had it-his own personal nuclear bomb factory, built in secret with the billions of dollars his hightech companies had brought him.

Everything had changed. This was no longer just a rescue mission, and Yuen’s dealings were now more than selling uranium on the black market. He was building- had built , Chase realized, as he saw the completed last bomb on the line-nuclear weapons. Whatever Yuen’s intentions, the factory had to be shut down. Now .

He looked over the plant again, looking for weak spots. According to his SAS briefing, the lasers were the key, the most complex and expensive part of the entire process. If they were destroyed, or even damaged, the whole system would be rendered utterly useless.

And if there was one thing he was good at, it was damaging and destroying things.

There were five condenser chambers, though at the moment only four were active. Two men, wearing not the white bunny suits found in the innocuous chip fabrication plant but yellow hazard suits with full face masks, were working on the fifth, a panel open and what Chase guessed was the laser partially removed. That meant he could take care of one of the lasers just by knocking it to the floor, but the others would present more of a problem.

The lights in the conference room suddenly flicked on.

Chase whirled, gun flashing up at the door as it opened-

Sophia!

She stood in the doorway, terrified. Behind her was Yuen, pressing a gun against her head. Behind him were two uniformed security guards and the two black-suited bodyguards, all with their guns raised.

Pointing at Chase.

“I told you to wipe your feet.” Smirking, Yuen advanced into the room, shoving Sophia before him. His men followed, spreading out two to each side. “Now, drop your gun or your ex-wife becomes your really ex-wife.”

“You won’t hurt her, Dick,” growled Chase, concentrating more on the other men than on Yuen. While the billionaire was gloating, he was distracted-but his guards were silent and completely focused, weapons unwavering. “Not after the trouble you went through to get her back.”

“Oh, you mean the way you dropped my dear trophy wife right back into my lap, without my even having to lift a finger?” Yuen laughed, and ground the gun against the side of Sophia’s face. She whimpered. “Do it,” he snapped, voice hardening. “Or she dies. I can get another wife. But you won’t get another warning.”

Left with no choice, Chase held up his hands and dropped the gun. The guards immediately rushed forward, grabbing his arms and searching him.

Yuen stepped out from behind Sophia. He lowered his gun…

And handed it to his wife.

Sickening disbelief rose in Chase’s stomach as Sophia flicked her hair and gave him a smile of fake apology. “Sorry, Eddie,” she said. “But you never were terribly bright, were you?”

What the fuck is this , Sophia?” Chase demanded as the guards tossed his belongings onto the circular table and shoved him back against the wall, guns pressed to his chest.

“This,” said Yuen smugly, “is what marriage is all about. Two equals working together in perfect harmony to get what they want.” He kissed Sophia on the cheek. She smiled. Chase’s stomach churned at the full realization of her betrayal-and his complete gullibility.

Yuen went to the window, opening his arms wide as if to embrace the machinery of death below. “So, what do you think of my little toy factory? Looks good, doesn’t it?”

“It’ll look even better as a smoking crater,” Chase replied defiantly.

“Oh, let me guess,” said Yuen. “You’re thinking that even if something happens to you, your friend Mac knows where you went and will use his influence with MI6 to start an investigation?” His mouth curled into another smirk. “Sorry, but he had a slight accident. His house kind of… blew up.”

Mac’s house- Nina .

Chase erupted in rage, trying to tear free of the men holding him to rip out Yuen’s throat with his bare hands, but the guards kept their grip and shoved him painfully back against the wall. “You bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”

“No, you won’t.” Yuen nodded to his men. “Kill him and get rid of the body.”

One of the security guards moved his gun over Chase’s heart-

“Aren’t you even going to tell him why you’re making the bombs?” Sophia asked in a seductive voice, running a finger up Yuen’s arm. The guards paused.

Yuen looked askance at her. “What am I, a Bond villain? Maybe after I tell him my entire plan I can put him in a tank of sharks with frickin’ laser beams on their heads.”

“Oh go on,” she purred, draping herself over him. “Do it for me. I just want to see the look on his face. And then you can kill him.”

Yuen paused, taking in the scent of Sophia’s perfume, then relented. “Aw, why not?” he said, stepping forward. “Although you’re probably going to be disappointed, Chase. I don’t have some insane scheme for world domination. It’s just about money.”

“So being a billionaire isn’t enough for you?” Chase sneered.

“There’s no such thing as too much money.” Yuen looked down at the assembly line. “I have twenty-four nuclear bombs-okay, I soon will have twenty-four nuclear bombs, as only the first one’s fully assembled. But they’ll be made available through various black-market channels to the highest bidders. I think a hundred million dollars would be a fair starting point per bomb.”