Blackout (9 page)

Wednesday, July 22, 7:35 a.m. EDT

Washington, D.C.

Riley heard Scott take a deep breath and exhale his nerves, but before Scott could say a word, Secretary Moss jumped in. “Agent Ross has received information that—”

President Lloyd held up his hand and interrupted Moss. “Dwayne, I've heard enough from you for right now. Let's hear what Agent Ross has to say.”

Riley saw the icy glare Moss directed at Scott.
The guy seems like an impossible friend to make and a dangerous enemy to keep. Gotta keep an eye on him for Scott's sake.

“Thank you, sir,” Scott said. “We have received very strong intel that an attack with electromagnetic pulse weapons is imminent. We believe that the devices originated in North Korea but are now in the hands of a terrorist group.”

“So said your report. And where do you believe these weapons are now?” President Lloyd asked.

“Sir, we don't know. Our information is just that they left North Korea and are bound for the United States. We don't even know what terrorist group has them. It could be al-Qaeda, Hezbollah, Hamas, or even some new Mexican terrorist drug cartel. All we know about is the departure. We're in a fog after that.”

The president picked a piece of lint off his pant leg and flicked it to the ground. “And you're sure that the DPRK is behind this? That's a pretty serious accusation—one that could get a lot of people killed. There's no telling what that crackpot Kim might do with his recently honed nuclear capabilities.”

“All I can tell you is that's where the intel originated, Mr. President. Apparently MI6 has a mole fairly high up in North Korea's government. He used a pipeline to get the information to a runner in China, who got it to the Brits. An analyst friend of mine called and gave me the heads-up. Technically, we're not even supposed to know about this.”

Moss, who had been fidgeting in his seat, spoke up again. “You see, sir, that's why I hesitated to hold this meeting. I hate taking up your time on supposed ‘North Korean moles' and information from ‘analyst friends,'” he said, air-quoting the appropriate phrases.

“In the past, the information from
this
source has been nothing but credible,” Scott countered.

“But credibility has been an issue with
you
, hasn't it, Agent Ross?” Moss sneered. “I seem to remember hundreds of thousands of dollars of taxpayer money wasted at the Rose Bowl stadium based on supposedly credible information from another of your buddies, a certain Riley Covington.”

Riley's eyes jerked toward Moss, but before he said anything to defend himself, he spotted Porter, who was fixing Riley with a hard stare and giving him a furtive shake of the head. Riley swallowed his anger and let Scott answer Moss.

“Did we or did we not stop the attack by Hakeem Qasim?”

“But it wasn't at the Rose Bowl!”

“Did we or did we not stop it?”

“Enough!” The president stood from his seat and had a finger pointing at each of the two men. “Now you're both wasting my time. Agent Ross, you
will
remember that Secretary Moss is your superior. And, Dwayne,
you
will do me the courtesy of letting my questions get answered uninterrupted. Do you understand?”

Although both men were still seething, they each managed a “Yes, sir.”

The president sat down, crossed his legs, and straightened the crease in his pants. “Good. Now, Agent Ross, there are threats against our country every day. If you saw even half of the reports that came across my desk, you'd be wondering how it's possible that our nation is still in one piece. What makes you feel that this threat is worthy of extra attention?”

“First of all, let me apologize both to you and to Secretary Moss.” The president nodded his pardon, but Moss's head remained still.

Good move,
Riley thought.
Maybe the boy's growing up after all.

Scott continued, “But it's because of the nature of the weapon that my emotions are so high. The results of an EMP attack on our nation would be nothing short of catastrophic. However, I'm not the best person to tell you about that. Riley?”

Riley spun his head to look at Scott. Scott gave him a wink and a nod. Riley turned back toward the president, but before he could say anything, President Lloyd said, “Listen, Riley, there's no offense meant, and I've already told you I'm a big fan, but I've got four members of Homeland Security in here, two of whom I understand are a couple of the best analytical minds in the whole country. Why in heaven's name are you the one briefing me on EMPs?”

Exactly,
Riley thought and was about to say so. Instead, the words that came out of his mouth were, “Because I'm the only person in this room who has the depth of knowledge to help you understand the gravity of our situation.”

A smile spread across the president's face, and he nodded for Riley to continue.

Wednesday, July 22, 7:45 a.m. EDT

Washington, D.C.

Sweat and heat slowly began spreading over Riley's body, causing the thinly masked stink of his T-shirt to break free from its bonds. Riley futilely tried to ignore it. “As you know, Mr. President, prior to joining the PFL, I was in Air Force Special Ops. Much of what AFSOC does is weather-related—high-altitude drops into hostile territory in order to gather necessary meteorologic information and the like for aerial and ground attacks.

“During my senior year at the Academy, missile defense was a major topic, so I decided to write my thesis on the atmospheric ramifications of the destruction of ballistic missiles while in a suborbital flight path. However, as I gathered information, I became aware of a phenomenon known as electromagnetic pulse. As I read more about it, I ended up changing my thesis to a study on EMP devices and their potential impact on American culture.”

“Riley, you may want to move it along just a bit,” Stanley Porter said.

“Of course, sir. Sorry. So the electromagnetic pulse was first discovered by accident in 1962 during a high-altitude nuclear detonation, code-named Starfish Prime, off Johnston Atoll in the Pacific Ocean. The blast could be seen clearly eight hundred miles away in Hawaii—that part was expected. What wasn't expected was the damage to electronic equipment on the islands. More than three hundred streetlights no longer worked, many televisions and radios fried, and power lines fused together.

“What was ultimately determined was that the detonation's rapid acceleration of charged particles caused a burst of electromagnetic energy that shot out across the visual horizon line. This energy has the potential to fry any and all electronics and crash electrical grids.”

President Lloyd shot a quick glance to his watch. “Interesting stuff, Riley, but let's get down to the nitty-gritty. What could an EMP do to us?”

Riley took a deep breath. “First of all, it would depend on the type of weapon—nuclear or nonnuclear—the size of the bomb, and the height of the blast. A small nuclear device with a low-altitude detonation—say thirty kilometers—could affect an area 250 miles in diameter. However, a large nuke detonated four hundred kilometers over America's heartland could potentially take out the whole continental United States.”

“What do you mean by ‘take out'?” the president asked, looking sharply at Riley.

“Imagine every piece of electronic equipment suddenly stopping. The initial impact will be devastating enough—you'll see everything from people with pacemakers falling over dead to planes falling from the sky. Roads will be filled with cars that just stopped, stranding people miles from their homes. Panic will set in quickly as parents aren't able to get to their children at school or day care. They won't even be able to call to make sure they're all right because phones—cell and landline—will no longer function. Many people undergoing even the most routine of surgeries will die on the operating table because the hospital's lights and equipment will fail, and even the required backup generators will be toast too. Fires from the airplane crashes will consume city blocks because the fire trucks won't be able to start. It won't be long before rioting and looting will fill the streets. But that's just the beginning.

“Realize, sir, that it will be months, if not years, before we can recover from this kind of destruction. When electronics are hit with an EMP, they never function again. We'd be thrown back into the nineteenth century with a society that is not used to providing for itself. Because there's no refrigeration, food will run short. Clean drinking water will be hard to come by.

“As far as long-term health care, dialysis patients will be the first to go, and soon after, death will spread to diabetics and cancer patients. Disease will run rampant, and simple ailments that were once cured with antibiotics will cause tens of thousands of deaths. Anarchy and mob rule will become the law of the land, because without communication or transportation, Washington, D.C., becomes just another starving, backwater town.”

Riley paused to collect his thoughts. “I know I'm painting a doomsday scenario, but, sir, that's because that's exactly what it is. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, will die, and American civilization as we know it will come to an end.”

“And these weapons exist,” the president said quietly.

“Anyone who has nukes and the capability to send them to altitude can create one of these high-altitude, doomsday-type EMPs—us, Russia, China, Israel, North Korea, the U.K., France, and possibly India and Pakistan. And that's just the nuclear EMPs. For little more than four or five hundred dollars for explosives and copper tubing, any person with the know-how and even minimal intelligence can build what's known as a flux compression generator, or FCG. One of these homemade mini EMPs has the power of up to a thousand lightning strikes and can wipe out the electronics of city blocks.

“Add to that the new nonnuclear EMP technology. North Korea, Russia, and the United States have been working hard on NNEMPs that can be detonated at fairly low altitude—say thirty kilometers—and still have a hundred-mile-plus footprint—sort of like an FCG on steroids. These—in a sense—‘surgical' EMPs can be used to impact major population hotbeds, political centers, and key military bases. Imagine what would happen to our efforts in Iraq if Camp Liberty were suddenly and permanently off-line. And rather than needing an ICBM delivery device, a smaller missile or even a Scud could loft an NNEMP to where it needs to be.”

“And do we know that North Korea has this EMP-junior capability?” Lloyd asked.

“Sir, as of now, I'm not cleared to know if even we have this type of capability,” Riley answered, watching as Defense Secretary Carroll gave a slight nod to the president. “But every indication I've read recently is that if the DPRK doesn't have the technology yet, they will soon. It's amazing how starving your people can up your research-and-development budget.”

Silence hung in the air as Riley's information sank in. Finally, President Lloyd turned to Defense Secretary Carroll. “Gordy, what are our defenses against this?”

“Honestly, I'm not up on the countermeasures against the small FCGs. As far as high-altitude EMPs, if it's just one missile, the chances are fairly decent that we could take it out—given enough warning. But with every additional warhead, our odds decrease. And, unfortunately, it only takes one. If it's a smaller, low-altitude attack, the chances of our catching it in time are slim to none.

“And, if I may, there's one more thing you need to think about. If we have the doomsday scenario that Riley spoke about, that would open the door for other nations to roll in and take over parts of our country. We could easily see Russia in Alaska and the Pacific Northwest, Mexico up into the Southwest, and even Canada into New England, assuming our border allies weren't taken off-line by the same weapon that was directed at us. We couldn't even defend ourselves if Cuba decided to annex Florida.

“The only defenses we would have are those that were overseas during the time of attack. But realize, even if we brought them all home, how would we provide upkeep? How would we get them fuel? How would we feed the troops? Riley is exactly right, sir. A large-scale EMP attack could mean the end of America.”

The president abruptly got to his feet. “One bomb? Seriously, with all our weapons, with all our defenses, you're saying one bomb could spell the end of the strongest, most technologically advanced nation this world has ever seen?”

“If I may, Mr. President, that's the problem,” Khadi spoke up. “Our whole society is based on technology. Take away the technology, and what are we left with? If you detonated one of these devices in the heart of the Amazon or in the African bush, things would pretty much go on as they have for centuries. But for most of us? We wouldn't know how to find a single meal without a nearby Chili's or a Super Walmart.”

“Well, I'll tell you this, the end of the world will not come on my watch,” President Lloyd said, as much to himself as to everyone else. “And it very well might be the end of the world, because there's not a chance with all of our Ohio-class subs out there carrying their Tridents that I'm going to let any nation come rolling across our borders without giving them something to think about back home!”

Secretary Carroll paled at the president's words. “Sir, I don't think—”

“Oh, come on, Gordy! I'm just venting!” President Lloyd stood quietly for a moment. Nobody dared say a word. Finally, the president turned to Scott. “And how sure are you of this information?”

From behind the president came Secretary Moss's voice, “See, that's what I'm saying, Mr. President. Agent Ross is giving you this doomsday scenario, trying to incite panic, based on one person's word. It's ludicrous to be getting all worked up over—”

The president held up his hand, silencing Moss. He continued to stare at Scott.

Slowly moving his head side to side, Scott said, “Basically, he's right, sir. It is just one person's word, based on information MI6 has received from a North Korean mole. The whole thing could be a setup by the DPRK to embarrass us somehow . . . but I don't think it is.”

It was obvious Scott had more to say, so the president waited him out.

“Because it's coming from North Korea, I'm guessing the devices are small. They keep trying to show their power with their tests, but I have serious doubts as to whether they have anything that is both big
and
portable. Their Taepodong-2 ICBMs are well over a hundred feet long—not something easily hidden away. But their Scuds—the Rodongs and Hwasongs—are only about a third that size. Any of them would be capable of setting up an NNEMP blast. And even a small detonation over a major city like New York or L.A. could cause tens of thousands of deaths and could put our already-damaged economy into a death spiral.

“I also think it is probably an NNEMP because if a terrorist group launched a North Korean nuke on our soil, we'd know it by the weapon's inherent identifiers. That's the whole reason we haven't seen a Russian-made nuke fall into some
hajji
's hands. The world would know it was Russian, and the political fallout for them would be enormous.”

The president sat back down, again taking time to fix his crease. “Stanley, you've been pretty silent. What's your opinion?”

“Sir, I know Scott and Khadi well enough to realize that if they are scared, then we should be too.”

“Fair enough. Dwayne, how are you addressing this?”

With barely concealed contempt, Moss answered, “I can assure you that we are dedicating the resources appropriate to pursuing an unconfirmed rumor.”

“Which is about a quarter of what is needed for this kind of threat,” Stanley Porter added.

Before Moss could respond, President Lloyd said, “Fine. Dwayne, do what you have to do. Quadruple the resources if you need them. Stanley, I want you heading this up. If you find any roadblocks to getting what you need, I want you to contact me directly.”

Riley could see Porter suppressing a smile while Moss fumed next to him.
The conversation between those two is far from over.

Turning back to Scott, the president said, “Agent Ross, you and Agent Faroughi still could have briefed me on this through Stanley, or even come in by yourselves. You brought Riley here for a reason.”

After clearing his throat, Scott said, “Well, sir, I brought Riley here so that you could witness his expertise. Otherwise, you would have thought it ridiculous when I told you that I need your permission to form a carte blanche black ops team and that I need Riley to be part of it.”

“Wouldn't having one of the most recognizable faces in professional football as part of your secret team be sort of defeating the purpose?” Secretary Moss asked.

Ignoring his superior, Scott continued, “Please trust me when I say that Riley is necessary to the success of the team. Not only do the members of my team trust him with their lives, but he will be the one with the greatest knowledge of just what it is we're looking for. You've heard today his expertise on the subject. You've already mentioned your awareness of his courage and leadership skills. Sir, I don't exaggerate when I say that Riley is an essential element in our plan to thwart this attack.”

The president nodded, then stopped suddenly. “Just how do you plan on getting him out of football without . . . never mind. I don't want to know,” he said as he stood, indicating that the meeting was over. Everyone else stood with him. “You just do what you need to do to stop those weapons from reaching our soil. I'm counting on all three of you.” President Lloyd shook each of their hands, looking directly into their eyes as he did so.

As he shook Riley's hand, he said, “Riley, have Agent Ross take you to get some clothes. It's the least the taxpayers of our great land can do for you.”