Midnight, Anna Dove [ebook smartphone .TXT] 📗

at once. The keys must be turned within two seconds of each other and held--it is a spring load.”

“When the keys are turned, is there an option to abort?” Haley questioned.

“No. Then the silo door slides open. It will slide through a security radar beam and set off an alarm. The fuel then ignites and the launch of the warhead is activated.”

“So the President must be involved then,” responded Haley. “Either that or the weapon was manufactured outside of regulations.”

Landon shook his head. “Nothing can be manufactured outside of our knowledge. We know where every single nuclear weapon on this planet is, no matter who made it, down to the tenth of a degree. It is simply impossible for one to be constructed without our knowledge. It has to be one that already exists.”

“The Chief of Staff could be working with another country perhaps?” asked Elizabeth. “Why are we limiting this to solely United States weapons?”

“Elizabeth, I truly don’t believe that would be possible,” said the Senator, his tone low and his words terse. “This makes much more sense as an internal attack. Many more people to cover for him, if he is indeed the person behind this. If he’s not, then he’s covering for someone else. If an American citizen were coordinating an attack this large with a foreign government, they would be discovered within four seconds. No--this is coordination--the DOD, the intelligence community, the executive branch; this is too big. It has to be coordination.”

“I agree,” said Landon. “But, Haley, the President is not necessarily involved.”

“How?”

“If the President is killed or incapacitated then the authority follows the presidential line of succession. Vice, and then Speaker of the House, etc. Also, if the Vice President and the majority of the Cabinet members invoke the 25th amendment, then the Vice President will take control.”

“So Reed could be working with literally anyone in the succession line; but they’ll have to get rid of the President and anyone else in front of them first?”

“Yes.”

Haley shook her head and leaned back in her chair.

“Or,” said the Senator, “Reed could be working directly with the operations officers, and completely bypassing the chain of command. He could have accessed and copied the necessary codes from the NSA, working with any number of individuals--SECDEF, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, NORAD, NMCC.”

A silence again fell for a few moments. Tick, tick, Tom’s watch went on, and in each of them rose increasing urgency and increasing defeat, as the seconds passed. Haley’s eyes drifted to her lap; her hands clasped together tightly. Her fingertips pressed into the spaces in between her whitened knuckles.

“Damn it,” whispered the Senator. Then, sitting up straight, he pounded his fist on the table so forcefully that a hairline fracture appeared in the wood. Elizabeth jumped and Haley raised her hand to her head, and standing up, turned to face the wall. She felt as if she might get sick. Landon rested his hands on the table and looked at the Senator. Tom moved to the door again and checked the peephole.

“Where are most of the deployable nuclear weapons?” asked the Senator, directing his question again at Landon.

“Majority in the Pacific Islands, now. We redistributed strategically six months ago because of China, and we are about to redistribute again,” responded Landon.

“So simply statistically speaking, the launch is most likely to occur from one of those locations.”

“Statistically, yes. But this attack is itself a statistical anomaly. This statistically should not be happening.”

“Agreed. However,” responded the Senator, sitting down again and leaning towards Landon, “we must start somewhere. I want to see Reed’s travel records. I want to know if he ever visited any Pacific Islands.”

“I don’t think he would risk that,” interjected Tom, who had been silent until now.

“Maybe,” the Senator replied. “But you see, when people get drunk on power, they begin to see themselves as untouchable whether they know it or not. Crime works the same way—rather, getting away with a crime. Simple mistakes are too common.”

“It will take too long to get those records, it would take a FOIA filing or a trustworthy connection,” said Haley, swallowing. “Besides—won’t it raise suspicions? Tomorrow when it happens, after it happens, don’t we want to proceed as normally as possible, to blend in so that we can notice what’s going on around us?”

“No, I agree with Senator McCraiben,” said Elizabeth in a voice that sounded far away. “The records might show something helpful. I think we should get them.”

“No,” said Tom, shaking his head. “I see what you mean, but there’s not enough time. Let’s say we found he had been to Honolulu. So what? Can we call up all the hotels in Honolulu, see where he stayed, what he did? Plus, we can’t trust the White House. Why would we expect the records they give us to be true?”

“I don’t know what I’d be able to access from the NSA or the Pentagon,” said Landon. “If I search too deeply for information, people will get suspicious. I can’t trust a single soul there now. If in time we figure out who in the White House or the Pentagon or intelligence agencies we can trust, I’ll ask for the records, but for now it’s putting our necks out too far.”

“You know, Landon,” continued the Senator gravely, “this means that tomorrow you and I will be put in Chimaugua Bunker as well.”

“Yes.”

Silence.

The Senator muttered an expletive under his breath.

“To be trapped down there in that hell-hole while people die, to be cut off from my wife and my children—and then, on top of that, trapped down there with some of the very people who have plotted this,” he said. “God help me.” And he meant it.

Again they all lapsed into silence; words were lost. The lonely silence chilled them bitterly; the