Matthew Reilly - Scarecrow Returns

“So it comes down to the spheres and the missiles?”

“Yes.”

“So where are these spheres kept?”

“They are stored in a sealed laboratory atop the shorter of the two spires mounted upon the main tower. They are the reason for our enemy’s delay—due to their substantial potency, the red-uranium spheres are kept at a temperature close to zero Kelvin, or -273 degrees Celsius. So they must be primed before use: priming involves reheating them to ambient temperature at a very precise incremental rate or else their molecular structure will break down and their ability to light the gas will be lost.”

“How many of these spheres are there?” Champion asked.

“Well, there are six in that lab . . .” Ivanov said, a little hesitantly. Schofield saw it.

“Are there more spheres elsewhere on Dragon Island?” he asked.

Ivanov grimaced. “There is a secret laboratory built directly underneath the main tower, beneath the great pillar. This laboratory is only accessible by a security-coded elevator and is equipped with a reheating unit of its own and one reduranium sphere. It is a fallback, a last retreat in the event of nuclear conflict, but . . .”

“But what?”

“But Kotsky does not know about it. Its existence is beyond his level of clearance. And if Kotsky does not know about it, then neither can this army.”

“Hmmm.” Schofield bit his lip in thought. “Still, if we can get to that shorter spire and disrupt the priming process, we can render the spheres useless.”

“Yes, if you get there in time,” Ivanov said.

Champion asked, “Can we destroy the spheres with a grenade blast?”

“No, they are too dense for a conventional explosive to do any damage to them. Such an explosive would not even crack a red-uranium sphere. It requires a large, carefully timed and even-more-carefully calibrated implosive blast to break one.”

“How much do they weigh ?” Schofield asked.

Ivanov shrugged. “They are heavy for their small size, as one would expect of a semi-nuclear substance. Perhaps three kilograms each. Why?”

“Because a three-kilogram sphere the size of a golf ball will sink like a stone,” Schofield said. “If we can steal those spheres and get them to the coast and hurl them into the ocean, finding them would be all but impossible.”

“This is true,” Ivanov said.

“Wait a second,” Mother said. “Aren’t we talking about radioactive material here? You can’t just pick up a nuclear substance and run off with it.”

Ivanov said: “No, this is the advantage of red uranium. While its explosive energy is great, its passive radioactive decay is minimal. You can carry it in a suitcase or even create a hand grenade with a tiny amount of it—”

“Hold on. There are other devices made from this stuff?”

“Why, yes. Our weapons scientists fell in love with red uranium. It is an almost perfect thermobaric explosive. Smaller devices were fashioned, including hand grenades with red-uranium cores the size of ball bearings that could blow apart a T-72 tank.”

“You assholes built nuclear hand grenades?” Mother said.

Ivanov bowed his head. “This island is a product of a different time. We were given leave to create whatever weapons science would allow and so we did. On occasion, we may have gone too far—”

“No shit,” Mother said.

“Hey! I have a family, too!” Ivanov said indignantly. “Two sons. Six grandchildren. They live in Odessa, in southern Ukraine. If the weapon is ignited, the firestorm will kill them, too. I have as much to lose in all this as you do. I may have helped build this terrible thing, but I most assuredly do not wish to see it set off.”

“Okay, everyone, settle down.” Schofield got back on topic. “What about the missiles that are used to fire the spheres into the gas cloud? Where are they located?”

Ivanov nodded. “Our enemy will have readied the battery of intermediate-range ballistic missiles on the launch pad to the south of the main tower. Sabotaging those missiles is a possibility, but as one would expect, the missile site is very well protected—one can only get to it via a high, single-lane bridge. If our enemies have men guarding the missile site, it will be exceedingly difficult to get to.”

Schofield was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

“There might be one other thing we can do,” he said. “It occurred to me before, but it comes with . . . complications.”

“What’s that?” Mother asked.

“The reason we’re here is because this Army of Thieves is able to detect incoming missiles and bombers from long range, right? They even managed to turn a Russian ICBM around and strike its own launch site.”

Mother shrugged. “They’re teched up. We know this.”

Schofield said, “But it goes deeper than that. To possess this kind of early-warning capability—which lets them see an incoming missile or plane from thousands of miles away—they must be patched into some kind of early-warning satellite. Which means somewhere on this island there’s a satellite uplink connecting them to that satellite.”

“Oh, I see, I see . . .” Veronique Champion nodded. “But, yes, as you say, such a plan brings with it substantial complications.”

Mother didn’t get it. “Wait, wait. What complications? I don’t see it.”

Schofield said, “If we take out the Army of Thieves’ satellite uplink—destroy it or disable it—then the Army of Thieves will be blinded and we can open the way for a nuclear strike on this island.”

“Once that uplink is destroyed,” Champion added, “a nuclear missile launched from, say, Alaska or a site in central Russia could strike this island inside twenty minutes. The complication is—”

“Us,” Schofield said. “We won’t have time to get away before any nuclear missile hits. If we can find and knock out their uplink, we can save the world . . . but in doing so, we kill ourseves.”

“Oh,” Mother said. “Right. I see.”

There was a short silence.

“We have to keep it as an option,” Schofield said seriously. “Maybe not our first option, but if all else fails, we might have to consider it.”

He turned to the group.

“All right, people, here’s how we’re going to do this. If we can somehow get in, I say we make this a split-op: one team goes for the spheres while a smaller second team tries to disable the missile battery. I’ll lead the first team: if we can disrupt the reheating of those spheres before eleven o’clock, we stop this thing cold; if not, we steal the spheres and get them to the coast and toss them into the ocean. At the same time, the second team—I’m thinking of the Kid and Mario here—tries to knock out the missiles, thus preventing the bad guys from firing the spheres into the gas cloud should the first team fail.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mother said.

“ If we can get in there by eleven o’clock,” Champion said. “That in itself will be extremely difficult.”

Schofield nodded. “While we’re doing all this, Dr. Ivanov is going to try and spot any recently added satellite uplink dishes around the complex. In the event of everything going to Hell, our last resort will be blowing the uplink and calling in a nuclear airstrike on ourselves. Any questions?”

No one said a word. They were all taking in exactly what the final option meant.

“I have a question,” Mother said. “For him.” She jerked her chin at Ivanov. “Who the fuck designs and builds a global-killing weapon like this?”

Ivanov smiled tightly. “You may not like the answer. You see, we stole the plans for the atmospheric device, indeed for this whole complex, from a top secret laboratory at Nellis Air Force Base in the United States of America. Your country designed this terrible weapon. We just built it.”