Peter started to say something, but Tank cut him off.
"Let me think for a moment."
Standing stock still, doing exactly as his friend asked, it was then that he remembered Aviva's dagger, stored safely away in his home. That would only enhance the blast wave more, adding to the loss of life. Since the realisation about the Cropptech laminium, there was a real change in his friend's demeanour. He knew that Tank would lay down his life, just as he would himself, to prevent the bomb from going off. Waiting patiently, he wondered if the Cropptech site was in fact the primary target of the bomb. It would be just like the dragon Manson to do something sneaky like this, having a little revenge on all the humans he evidently disliked so much, while at the same time depriving the dragon community of the almost exclusive supplier of the valuable metal, as well as spreading fear and destruction. This was no coincidence, he was sure. They had to come up with a plan to stop it. They had nine minutes and forty six seconds to do just that.
* * *
Instantly, the heat and passion from the kiss melted away the cold air of the room. It wasn't the most romantic of places, but neither of them actually cared at the moment. They both just wanted to be together, something that grew more and more difficult with each passing day. Here and now, it was just about finding solace in each other's arms, making the most of the present. Two of his friends had made it easy for them to sneak down here and share a matter of minutes together without being discovered. Although she deplored her current surroundings, there seemed no other way, certain her house was being watched, and probably his as well. So this was it. And it was better than the alternative. But there was always a price to pay with love. Today, that would become more evident than ever before.
* * *
Deep inside the Kremlin's very dusty and very dark component warehouse, tucked behind a massive swathe of dirty wiring in the dim recesses of an ancient computer, a red digital display counted down, its numbers glowing brightly in the confined space. It had just dropped below nine minutes when a tiny random signal flared up from one part of the circuit board inside it, setting in motion a catastrophic chain of events. Mere milliseconds later, the explosive and the laminium that it was attached to, detonated.
Instantly everything within the gorgeously coloured red stone walls of the Kremlin was obliterated. The Archangel's Cathedral, Spasky Tower, the lush trees and the Kremlin Museum (along with Tsar Peter the Great's boots) were all gone, not to mention all the government facilities and offices, some above ground, some below. Continuing on, the shock wave left a trail of destruction in its wake. Great surges of water careered along the Moscow River in both directions, destroying bridges, roads, shops and houses. Ground quakes rattled everything within the city of Moscow itself. Inside the Metropol hotel, valuable mosaics cracked with impunity, while the carefully sculpted marble that it was renowned for, ruptured, tumbling to the floor all around.
Once again, in the blink of an eye, thousands had died. But despite the carnage, luck had been on their side. For behind the eerie wall against which the computer containing the bomb had sat, was a dedicated dragon storage base, one in which large amounts of laminium were regularly stockpiled. Up until the day before, a considerable amount had been contained there. It had all been moved to another location the previous afternoon, and that one event alone had probably saved hundreds of thousands of lives. At that moment in time, Moscow couldn't possibly know how lucky it had been, but at some point in the future, it would find out.
* * *
A silent countdown ticked down in his head, as he marvelled at the look of sheer concentration on Tank's face. Reaching forty-one, his friend's eyes shot open and he yelled,
"I've got it!"
Just then, the high pitched wail of the fire alarm stopped abruptly.
"What? How?" exclaimed Peter.
Tank turned to face his friend.
"I can't stop the blast, but I think I might know how to contain it."
"Contain it?"
"Yes, contain it. That's the best I can do. It means losing this entire building, but given what we're facing, that seems like quite a small sacrifice. Wouldn't you agree?"
Thinking about it for a split second, he realised that this whole place, the clubhouse, the pitches and especially the Astroturf, were all like a second home to him and he wanted no harm to come to any of them. But the choice was non-existent. At least this way, hopefully nobody would lose their lives, and that was by far the most important concern.
"What do we do?"
"I'm going to put a shield mantra like no other around the whole of the building, hopefully encasing the blast. IF I get it right, the kinetic power from the explosion SHOULD be channelled up into the sky and down into the ground. However, because of the scale of things, I might need you to lend me some of your magic and strength to help set it up and maybe even to cast it at the end. The only thing that worries me is that there is absolutely no wind at all today. Ideally we'd need a breeze to dissipate the part of the explosion that is channelled upwards into the atmosphere, to prevent the contamination just falling straight back down to earth later."
"Well, there's not much we can do about the weather," added Peter. "Where do we start?"
"WE don't," announced Tank. "I need to go to each corner of the building on both floors, starting off on the ground floor. You need to stay here and open yourself up to my thoughts. If you feel me flagging, lend me your strength and magical energy... all you can spare. There should be just enough time to wrap up the entire building, but we'll have to hurry. As well, make sure no one comes back in, otherwise they'll be trapped and caught up in the blast."
Nodding as his friend sprinted past him at breakneck speed, heading for the ground floor, Peter, strangely, felt a sense of calm wash over him as the total quiet of the top floor surrounded him. He thought it quite surreal given the situation: bomb, panic, danger, destruction... but quiet. Moving across to the giant curved window, he gazed across to the crowd gathered at the edge of the car park. Enhancing his vision just slightly, he scanned the frightened faces. Richie, it appeared, was long gone, after storming out of the bar earlier. Not happy about falling out with her once again, it appeared that she was the one with the short temper, something of an irony given the usual turn of events, but in a sense he felt relieved and glad that it had all happened, because she wasn't here now, seeing all this, being so close to the danger that the bomb presented. Just as he finished scanning the crowd, it dawned on him that he hadn't spotted Janice, the whole point of doing it in the first place. Panic welling up inside him, threatening to flood over him and take control, he pushed it away and turned on hearing the soft sound of small footsteps running up the stairs. JANICE! Rushing across to the doorway, he was just in time as she turned the corner, and in a running jump, threw herself at him. Surprised, he nearly dropped her, but not quite.
"What are you doing here?" he admonished her.
"I wanted to make sure you were safe," she squeaked.
"You have to get back outside with the others. You're not safe here."
Turning to go, before she did, she mentioned one last thing.
"Oh, the fire brigade are on their way. There was nothing I could do to stop them I'm afraid."
'DAMN!' he thought. 'If they arrive, they'll insist on entering the building, and will all get themselves killed.'
"JANICE!" he shouted after her down the stairs.
"Yes?"
"You have to make sure they don't enter the building. It's really not safe."