Robin Cook - Vector

“That’s the switch to the main circulating fan,” Reggy explained. Then he walked over to one of the hatch-like doors and undogged it. It opened into the room on creaky hinges.

“We’re upstream of the main circulating fan,” Reggy said. “When it’s running you can’t open this door. There’s too much suction.”

Curt moved to the door and glanced into its dark interior. He slipped his flashlight from its holder on his belt and turned it on. First he directed the beam back at the filters. Steve tried to see over his shoulder, but the door was too narrow.

“Step inside if you’d like,” Reggy suggested.

Curt ducked down and stepped over the lip. He shined the light back at the filter. Steve leaned in from the doorway. Reggy went over to the HVAC console to turn off the alarm announcing a fall in the system’s pressure.

“See what I mean about the need to reconnoiter,” Curt said. The insulated duct shielded most of the noise coming from the machinery room.

“I forgot about filters,” Steve admitted.

Curt swept the light in the opposite direction. The huge blades of the main circulating fan were still slowly revolving. Angling the light up to the ceiling, Curt found the smoke detector. He’d need a ladder to test it.

“That’s the one we’ll want to go off,” he said. “We’ll have to find an accessible air return on this floor for one of the troops to set off a smoke bomb.”

“You think there’s a specific designator for this smoke detector on the fire control annunciator panel?” Steve asked.

“I’ll be surprised if there isn’t,” Curt said. “And even if there isn’t, the panel will tell us the activated smoke detector is in the HVAC system. One way or the other you and I will have a reason to come in here.”

“Provided we beat Engine Company Number 6 from Beekman Street,” Steve said.

“There’s no way they could get here before us,” Curt said. “Engine Number 6 has to come from the other side of City Hall. We’ll be in this duct before they even reach the scene. If we have to worry about anybody, it’s our own ladder company. We just have to be sure they keep themselves busy getting all the elevators down to the ground floor like they’re supposed to.”

“So what do we do when we get in here?” Steve asked. “Where do we put the stuff?” He glanced around at the floor of the duct. There was no place to hide anything.

“Yuri says it will be in the form of a fine powder in impervious plastic bags. We’ll just place them in here and set the little timed detonators. When they go off, we’ll be long gone.”

“You don’t think we have to hide the bags?”

“I don’t see why,” Curt said.

“What if someone comes in here after we leave?” Steve asked.

“Did you hear the hinges on the door when Reggy opened it?” Curt asked. “Nobody comes in here. Just to be sure we’ll disarm the smoke detector as well as turn off the fire control system.”

“That’s a good idea,” Steve said. He shrugged. “I guess it’s going to work.”

“Bet your ass it’s going to work,” Curt said. “Come on! Let’s locate a good air return on this floor and then finish our sham fire inspection. We should be getting back to the station.”

Finding an appropriate air return was easy. After leaving the machinery room, Curt had asked for the closest men’s room. While Reggy waited outside, Curt and Steve found a convenient grate that would be easily removable. They imagined the duct was a straight shot back to the smoke detector they’d just seen.

“All one of our guys has to do is pop this grate off and toss in a smoke bomb,” Curt said. “That will set off the alarm for sure.”

A half hour later Curt and Steve recrossed the plaza in front of the Federal Building. The sun had gone in behind a bank of clouds, and gusts of wind were buffeting the local pigeons. Curt had to keep a tight grip on his clipboard to keep the papers from blowing off. The two men climbed into their official car that they’d parked by the curb.

Curt started the engine and pulled out into the traffic. “Have you made any more progress on our route of retreat?” he asked. The way they’d divided up the planning was for Curt to concentrate on the event itself while Steve worked on their escape.

“It’s done,” Steve said. “I’ve been on the Internet every night for hours. I’ve got safe houses arranged for us all the way to Washington State and then up into Canada if need be. Every one of the militias I’ve contacted has been more than willing to help.”

“Have they been curious about what’s going down?” Curt asked.

“That’s an understatement,” Steve said. “But I haven’t told them anything other than it’s going to be big.”

“It’s going to be like the Turner Diaries coming true,” Curt chortled.

He was referring to his favorite novel, one widely circulated among the violent far right. In it the protagonist, Turner, started a general rebellion by bombing the FBI Headquarters in Washington, D.C.

Curt was feeling euphoric over his luck in having a weapon of mass destruction dropped into his lap. Now he finally had the power to strike back appropriately and dramatically at the government. Those Zionist bastards in Washington were going to learn the hard way that they shouldn’t make war on their own citizens with the FBI and the ATF à la Ruby Ridge and Waco, nor should they conspire to take away people’s cherished rights such as the right to bear arms, nor should they have backed abortion, gay rights, or affirmative action, or tolerated miscegenation. On top of all that was the illegality of the IRS and support for the United Nations. The list was almost endless.

Curt shook his head when he thought how far the government had wandered from its constitutional mandate. It deserved what was coming. Of course there were going to be civilian casualties. But that couldn’t be avoided. After all, there had even been civilian casualties in the American Revolution. Like the “shot heard around the world,” Operation Wolverine was going to be momentous, and if it succeeded in ushering in the new “Fifth Era” the way the Battle of Bunker Hill augered the birth of a new government, he realized he would probably be considered a kind of modern-day George Washington. It was all almost too heady to contemplate.

“A general revolt could start before we reach the West Coast,” Steve said. “All the militias are waiting for some sign to start coordinated action. Even if only half the people Yuri expects die with Operation Wolverine, this could be it.”

“I was just thinking along the same lines,” Curt said. A self-satisfied smile spread across his face as he imagined how he’d be lionized on the far right’s Internet bulletin boards.

“If there is a general uprising,” Steve continued, “I think we should hole up in Michigan. From what I’ve learned the militias there are the most organized. It would be the safest place.”

“How have you planned for us to get out of the city?” Curt asked.

“By a PATH train from the World Trade Center,” Steve explained. “As soon as we get back to the station after we’ve planted the stuff we quit. We walk into the captain’s office and say sayonara .”

“He’s going to blow his top,” Curt said. He’d not heard about this part of the plan and hadn’t given it much thought.

“It can’t be helped,” Steve said. “We have to get out of the city, particularly after Yuri does his laydown, which he says he’s going to do at the same time we do ours. I don’t feel as confident as he does that it’s just going to blow over the Upper East Side.”

“That’s a good point,” Curt said. “But why don’t we just disappear? Why say anything to anybody?”