The Edge of Armageddon (4 page)

Julian Marsh left the motel feeling refreshed, even exhilarated but also a little sad. He’d dressed well; blue jeans with one leg a tad darker than the other, several layers of shirts and a hat tugged down over one side of his head. The look was good, and he thought he’d outdone Zoe. The woman emerged from the little bathroom looking a bit disheveled, hair only partly brushed and lipstick half-applied. It was only after a few minutes of appraisal that Marsh realized she was deliberately trying to emulate him.

Or pay tribute to him?

Probably the latter, but it did set Marsh on edge. The last thing he wanted was a female version of himself cramping his unique style. Almost as an afterthought he plucked the backpack from the bed, stroking the material and feeling the contours of the living beast inside.

Mine
.

The morning felt good, crisp, bright and happy. Marsh waited as a five-seater car pulled up and two men jumped out of the front. Both were swarthy and bore full beards. Marsh spoke the final password for the final journey and allowed them to open the back door. Zoe appeared as he climbed in.

“Wait.” One of the men produced a pistol as the woman approached. “There should be only one.”

Marsh tended to agree, but a different side of him wanted to get to know the woman even better. “She is a late addition. She’s okay.”

Still the gun hand hesitated.

“Look, I have been out of contact for three days, maybe four.” Marsh couldn’t clearly recall. “Plans change. I gave you the password, now heed my words. She’s okay. An asset, even.”

“Very well.” Neither man looked convinced.

The car took off fast, spinning a plume of dirt from the rear tires, and turned toward the city. Marsh settled back as the skyscrapers loomed even larger and the traffic thickened. Shiny, reflective surfaces surrounded the car, blinding in some places as they redirected the artificial lights. Crowds thronged the sidewalks and buildings flashed with information. Cop cars cruised the streets. Marsh saw no sign of heightened police attention, but then couldn’t see above the roof of the car. He mentioned it to the driver.

“Everything seems normal,” the man came back. “But speed is still essential. Everything will fall apart if we move too slowly.”

“Ramses?” Marsh asked.

“We await his word.”

Marsh frowned, sensing some condescension in the reply. This plan was entirely his and Ramses’ minions should be dancing to his tune. As soon as they arrived at the place Marsh had chosen and prepped months before they could begin.

“Stay under the radar,” he said by way of asserting control. “And under the speed limit, eh? We don’t want to get stopped.”

“We are in New York,” the driver said, and then both men laughed as he gunned it from a red light. Marsh chose to ignore them.

“But,” the driver then added. “Your backpack? It’s . . . contents have to be verified.”

“I know that,” Marsh hissed. “Don’t you think I know that?”

What type of ape had Webb saddled him with?

Perhaps sensing the rising tensions, Zoe sidled over toward him. Only the nuke sat between them. Her hand wriggled slowly over the backpack, a fingertip at a time, and down toward his lap, making him start and then stare.

“Is that really appropriate?”

“I don’t know, Julian. Is it?”

Marsh wasn’t entirely sure, but the sensations were pleasant enough so he let it go. It occurred to him briefly that Sheers was a bit of a looker, powerful as a Shadow Pope, and no doubt able to call upon any male specimen she required.

Why me?

The nuke probably helped, he knew. Every girl fancied a man with a nuke. Something to do with power . . . oh, well, maybe she liked the idea that he was that little bit more formidable than her. His quirkiness? Sure, why the hell not? His train of thought derailed as they pulled up at the curb, the driver briefly pointing out the building that Marsh had chosen on a previous visit. Outside, the day was still warm and entirely unexpected. Marsh imagined fat government asses planted firmly in their plush leather seats about to get the spanking of their lives.

Soon now. So soon I can barely contain myself.

He took Zoe by the hand and pretty much skipped across the sidewalk, letting the backpack dangle from a crooked elbow. Past the doorman and with instructions left, the four-strong group took an elevator to the fourth floor and then checked the spacious, two-bedroom apartment. All was well. Marsh threw open the balcony doors and took another sniff of the city air.

Might as well whilst I still can.

The irony made him laugh at himself. It would never happen. All the Americans had to do was believe, pay up, and then he could dispose of the nuke in the Hudson as planned. Then, a new plan. A new life. And a fascinating future.

A voice spoke at his shoulder. “We have a man on the way who is able to verify the contents of your backpack. He should arrive within the hour.”

Marsh nodded without turning. “As expected. Very good. But there are still a few considerations. I need a boffin to help with the money transfer once the White House has paid. I need help setting the chase in motion, to help divert attentions. And we need to activate all the cells and arm that bomb.”

The man behind him shifted. “All in the planning,” he said. “We are prepared. These things will come together very soon.”

Marsh turned and walked back into the hotel room. Zoe sat sipping champagne, her slim legs raised and resting along a chaise longue. “So we’re just waiting now?” he asked the guy.

“Not long.”

Marsh smiled at Zoe and held out a hand. “We’ll be in the bedroom.”

The couple snagged a strap each of the backpack and carried it with them into the biggest bedroom. Within a minute they were both naked and twisting together atop the sheets. Marsh tried to prove he possessed the required reserves of stamina this time, but Zoe was just a little too wily. Her wide flawless face did all sorts of things to his libido. In the end it was good that Marsh finished quickly because there soon came a knock at the bedroom door.

“The man is here.”

Already
? Marsh dressed quickly alongside Zoe and then the two of them wandered back out into the suite, still flushed and slightly sweating. Marsh shook hands with the newcomer, noting his lank hair, pale complexion and rumpled clothes.

“Don’t get out much?”

“They keep me locked away.”

“Oh, well, whatever. Have you come to check my bomb?”

“Yes, sir, I have.”

Marsh placed the backpack on the low glass table that occupied the center of the large room. Zoe walked by, catching his attention as he briefly remembered her naked form from only minutes ago. He dragged his eyes away, addressing the newcomer.

“What’s your name, lad?”

“Adam, sir.”

“Well, Adam, you know what this is and what it can do. Do you feel nervous?”

“No, not at the moment.”

“Tense?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Twitchy? Stressed? Maybe overwrought?”

Adam shook his head, eyeing the backpack.

“If you are I’m sure Zoe here can help you out.” He said it half-jokingly.

The Pythian turned with a sly smile. “Be happy to.”

Marsh blinked, as did Adam, but before the youth changed his mind their bearded driver spoke up. “Hurry this,” he said. “We must be ready for . . .” he tailed off.

Marsh shrugged. “All right, no need to start stamping your feet. Let’s get down and dirty.” He turned to Adam. “With the bomb, I mean.”

The young man turned a bewildered gaze firmly upon the backpack and then rotated it, so the buckles faced him. Slowly, he undid them and eased the top open. Inside lay the real device, surrounded by a sturdier and altogether superior backpack.

“Okay,” Adam said. “So we all know about MASINT, the Measurement and Signature Intelligence protocol that scans data received from radiation and other physical phenomena signatures associated with nukes. This device, and at least one other like it that I know of, have been post-designed to slip under that field. Now, there are a lot of systems detecting and monitoring the world for nuclear devices but not all of them are cutting edge, and not all of them are fully manned.” He shrugged. “Look at the recent debacles in civilized countries. Can anyone really stop a determined man or tight cell acting alone? Of course not. It only takes a single malfunction or an inside job.” He smiled. “An unhappy employee or even a dead-tired one. Mostly it takes money or leverage. These are the best currencies of international terrorism.”

Marsh listened to the young man talk, wondering if one or two deeper precautions had been taken when he explained his route to Ramses and Webb. It would have been in all their best interests. He would never know and, frankly, didn’t really care. He was right here now, and about to open the doorway to Hell.

“Essentially, this is what we call a ‘dirty bomb’,” Adam said. “The term has been around forever but still applies. I have a scintillometer to detect alpha particles, a contaminant detector, and a few other goodies. But mostly,” Adam took a screwdriver out of his pocket, “I have this.”

Quickly he removed the sturdy package and unstickered the Velcro straps that gave access to a small display and mini-keyboard. The panel was held down by four screws which Adam quickly removed. As the metal panel came free it unraveled a series of wires behind it, wires that ran into the heart of the newly revealed device.

Marsh held his breath.

Adam smiled for the first time. “Don’t worry. This thing has more than one failsafe and ain’t even armed yet. Nobody here will set it off.”

Marsh felt a little deflated.

Adam peered at the mechanism and the parts inside it, taking it all in. After a moment he checked a laptop screen at his side. “Leaking,” he admitted. “But not so bad.”

Marsh shifted uneasily. “How bad?”

“I’d advise you never to have kids,” Adam said without emotion. “If you still can. And enjoy the next few years of your life.”

Marsh stared at Zoe as she shrugged. He’d never expected to outlive his egotistical father nor his supercilious brothers anyway.

“I can shield it better now,” Adam said, taking a package from a suitcase he’d brought along with him. “As I would any device of this sort.”

Marsh watched for a moment and then realized they were almost done. He met the dead eyes of their driver. “These cells Ramses spoke of. Are they ready? The chase will soon start and I want no delays.”

A dry smile flickered back. “And neither do we. All five cells are now active, including the two sleepers that the Americans cannot possibly know of.” The man checked his watch. “It is now 6.45 a.m. All will be ready for seven.”

“Fantastic.” Marsh felt his libido rising again and thought he might as well take advantage of that fact whilst he still could. Knowing Zoe as he recently did, they’d finish quickly anyway. “And the money transfer protocols?”

“Adam will concentrate on finishing a program that will bounce our location around the world on an endless cycle. They will never track the transaction.”

Marsh didn’t notice Adam’s expression of surprise.

He was too concentrated on Zoe, and she on him. He took five more minutes to watch Adam arm the bomb and listen to the instructions on how to disarm the damn thing, and then made sure the man took the relevant photographs of the working device. The photographs were crucial in persuading the White House of the authenticity of the device and in engineering the chase that would divert attentions and divide the forces arrayed against him. Happy at last he addressed Adam.

“The yellow one. That’s the disarm wire?”

“Umm, yes sir, it is.”

Marsh turned a genuine smile upon the driver. “So we’re ready?”

“We are ready.”

“Then move out.”

Marsh held out a hand and led Zoe into the bedroom, tugging at her jeans and panties as they went, and trying to stifle a giggle. A flood of passion and excitement almost overwhelmed him as he realized all his dreams of power and importance were about to be realized. If only his family could see him now.

As Drake stood upright the full weight of what was transpiring bore down upon him. Urgency coursed through his veins, frayed his nerve-endings, and one look at his team-mates told him they felt the same—even Kenzie. He’d really thought the ex-Mossad agent would have made her move by now but then, in truth, because of the bond between soldiers, he didn’t even have to ask her why she hadn’t. The same innocents she fought for were at stake here, the same civilians. Anyone with even half a heart would not let this stand, and Drake suspected there might be a lot more to Kenzie than half a heart, however deeply buried it may be.

Seven-forty-five, the wall clock read and the whole team were on the move. The police station was filled with an uneasy chaotic calm, cops in charge but clearly on edge. News reports flashed across TV screens, but none that were relevant to them. Moore paced and paced, waiting for news from undercover agents or surveillance teams or roving cars. Hayden squared off with the rest of the team.

“Mano and I will handle Ramses. We need two more groups, one to evaluate the nuke information as it happens, and one to chase down these cells. Keep everything quiet, but take no prisoners. Today, my friends, is not a day for fucking around. Get what you need and get it fast and hard. A lie could cost us dearly.”

Moore picked up on what she was saying and looked over. “Today,” he said, “there will be no quarter.”

Dahl nodded grimly as he cracked knuckles like he might a man’s skull. Drake tried to relax. Even Alicia marched around like a caged panther.

Then, at 8 a.m., the craziness began.

Calls started to come in, dedicated phones ringing again and again, their clamor filling the small room. Moore fielded them with efficiency, one after another, and two assistants ran in to help. Even Kinimaka took a call, though the table he perched on didn’t sound particularly happy.

Moore collated the information at the speed of light. “We’re on,” he said. “All teams are go. Undercovers have reported back the most recent talk of secret meetings and chatter. Movements around known mosques have ramped up. Even if we didn’t know what was going on we’d be worried. New faces have been seen in the usual haunts, all determined and moving fast, purposefully. Of the cells we know about two have disappeared off the radar.” Moore shook his head. “As if we weren’t already up against it. But we have leads. One team should head to the docks—one of the known cells operates from there.”

“That’s us,” Dahl grated. “Mount up, motherfuckers.”

“Speak for yourself.” Kenzie sidled alongside. “Oh, and I’m with you.”

“Ahh, do you have to?”

“Stop playing hard to get.”

Drake studied the teams, which had paired off quite interestingly. Dahl and Kenzie had Lauren, Smyth and Yorgi as comrades. He had ended up with Alicia, Mai and Beau. It was a recipe for something; that was for sure.

“Good luck, mate,” Drake said.

Dahl turned to say something just as Moore held a hand up. “Wait!” He covered the receiver for a second. “This was just patched through to our hotline.”

All heads swiveled. Moore had fielded another call and was now sending a hand out, scrabbling for the speaker button.

“You’re on,” Moore said.

A disembodied crackle filled the room, the words spilling as fast as Drake’s legs wanted to run in pursuit. “This is Julian Marsh, and I know that you know almost everything. Yes, I do. The question is—how would you like to play it?”

Hayden took point as Moore waved for a trace. “Stop dicking about, Marsh. Where is it?”

“Well, that’s the explosive question, isn’t it? I’ll tell you this, my dear, it’s here. In New York City.”

Drake didn’t dare breathe as their worst fears were undeniably confirmed.

“So the other question is—what do I want next?” Marsh allowed a long pause.

“Get to it, asshole,” Smyth snarled.

Alicia frowned. “Let’s not antagonize the prick.”

Marsh laughed. “Let’s not, indeed. So the nuke is armed, the codes all nicely entered. Clock is ticking, as they say. Now all that needs to be done is verify that it is real and provide you with a bank account number. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Hayden said simply.

“You want proof? You’re gonna have to work for it.”

Drake leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the chase is on.”

“Will you be getting to the point anytime soon?” Hayden asked.

“Ah, we’ll get to it. First, you little worker ants have a job to do. I’d get scuttling if I were you. You see . . . you see how I made that rhyme? I was going to make everything rhyme, you know, but in the end . . . well, I realized that I didn’t give that much of a fuck.”

Drake shook his head in despair. “Bloody ’ell, mate. Speak proper English.”

“The first clue is already in play. A form of verification. You have twenty minutes to get to the Hotel Edison, Room 201. Then there will be four more clues, some of verification and some of demands. Do you get me now?”

Mai came back first. “Insanity.”

“Well, I am a man of two minds. One of need, one of vice. Perhaps at their intersection sparks of madness fly.”

“Twenty minutes?” Drake checked his watch. “Can we even make it?”

“For every minute you are late I have ordered one of Ramses’ cells to kill two civilians.”

Again the jaw-dropping shock, the terror, the mounting suspense. Drake clenched his fists as the adrenaline rose.

“Twenty minutes,” Marsh reiterated. “From . . . now.”

Drake sprinted out the door.

*

Hayden raced down the stairs and towards the building’s basement, Kinimaka at her back. Fury rode her and beat at her as if with a devil’s wings. Anger forced her legs to go faster and almost caused her to trip. Her Hawaiian partner grunted, slipped and picked himself up almost without stopping. She thought about her friends in dire peril, rushing off to different areas of the city with no idea of what to expect, laying themselves on the line without question. She thought about all the civilians out there and what the White House might now be thinking. It was all well and good to have protocols and plans and workable formulas, but when the real, working world became the object of extreme threat—all bets were off. At the bottom of the stairs she hit a corridor and sprinted. Doors flashed by to either side, most unlit. At the far end a row of bars were quickly slid aside for her.

Hayden held her hand out. “Gun.”

The guard flinched, but then acquiesced, orders from above having already reached his ears.

Hayden took the weapon, checked the thing was loaded and the safety was off, and burst into the small room.

“Ramses!” she shouted. “What the hell have you done?”