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Jim ignored her outburst. “I think Mercer’s on to something. I’ll let Connie sink down to three hundred and see what we see.”

“That’s way below how deep a diver can go on scuba gear.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

Jim backed Conseil away from the cliff and let the ROV slowly drift deeper into the abyss. He kept the cameras pointed straight down so he could avoid any rock outcrops as the little robot sank.

At two hundred seventy feet they found another platform covered in ropes of pillow lava. “Bingo!”

The cell phone in the pocket of Mercer’s khakis vibrated. Rather than disturb the others, he stepped out of the control van. The air was crisp but heavily laden with fine ash particles. It had a metallic taste and Mercer couldn’t take deep breaths without the urge to cough.

The sun was setting beyond the Cumbre ridge. It silhouetted the volcanic formation, creating an undulating line of darkness and light. Because of the ash in the atmosphere, the color was more melon than yellow. To the south, where molten rock fountained from the Teneguia volcano, the sky’s glow was unworldly and hellish.

He fished the phone from his pocket and flipped it open. The caller-ID feature showed Ira Lasko’s number. They spoke at least ten times a day. “What’s the latest?” Mercer answered.

“I’ve got something for your file of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever heard. The North Korean delegation to the United Nations is willing to drop their objections to us using a nuke on La Palma if we give them permission to test one of their own. Get this — they say that a detonation on the island is a peaceful use of nuclear weapons and that their test would also have a beneficial purpose.”

“Yeah, beneficial in scaring the crap out of Japan and South Korea. What’s the UN’s reaction?”

“Publicly they don’t have much choice but to allow it. The way the resolution was drafted every nation has to agree for us to get permission. Privately, as soon as they run their test, the germane countries are going to sanction them even further into the Stone Age.”

Mercer snorted. “What else is going on?”

“The team at Lawrence Livermore have come up with the weapon you need. It’s an old W-54 SADM.”

“Saddam?”

“Small Atomic Demolition Munition. It was developed in the fifties to be fired from the Davy Crockett recoilless rifle. The engineers have modified its plutonium implosion core to push up the yield. Originally it was a one-kiloton warhead. They’ve brought it up to four and a half, which Dr. Marie says should be sufficient.”

“Provided we can find the vent,” Mercer said.

“No luck yet?”

“We’re closing in,” was all Mercer would give. “How big is the bomb?”

“Ah, hold on. About two feet square.”

“Sounds like the legendary suitcase bomb.”

“It is, or was. When they increased the yield they had to add shielding. It weighs in at two hundred sixty pounds.”

By attaching lifting bags to the warhead, Mercer was confident that the ROV could position it in the vent.

“Can I call you back in a minute?” Ira asked suddenly. “My boss is on the other line. I think it’s important.”

“Sure.” The call had already been cut.

Mercer stayed at the rail, leaning far over to watch the occasional boil of water when the thrusters kicked on to keep the Petromax Angel in position. The control van door opened. Tisa stood poised until she spotted him. As project director Mercer rarely slept in the same place on two consecutive nights so they’d had very little time together since their arrival in the Canaries.

Yet even these absences, and the shadow of the impending cataclysm, couldn’t spoil their budding relationship. She made every second magical, like the candlelight bath in his hotel room, or the midnight stroll she’d taken him on through gnarled olive trees. In the very heart of the grove, she’d erected a tent for them.

She smiled as she sidled up to him, slipping her arms over his shoulders and drawing his mouth to hers. “I think I should be jealous,” she said.

“Jealous, why?”

“That woman, Spirit. I think she’s in love with you.”

Mercer was even more confused. “What?”

“You have to admit she is beautiful.” He could tell she was teasing him.

“I suppose so,” he said, as if giving the question serious consideration, “if you’re one of those guys who goes for women with long legs, a big chest and dark smoldering eyes,” inviting a quick slap to the hip.

She massaged the spot in widening circles until she had a firm grip on his backside. “I’m not kidding about her. She’s attracted to alpha males. I bet back home she and C.W. are the center of their social group. Out here her husband looks to you for leadership. She doesn’t like it, while at the same time she’s also attracted to you. That’s why she’s always nasty.”

“You got all this from the tone of her voice?”

“Oh, she’s not that subtle. When you’re not looking she can’t take her eyes off you. And since I don’t think she owns a bra, her arousal can be obvious.”

Mercer burst out laughing and it took several moments for him to catch his breath.

“What’s so funny?”

“My life is starting to sound like a cheesy potboiler. Pretty soon you and Spirit will get into a catfight and then Charlie and I will have to defend the honor of our women or something.”

“Won’t happen that way. If she tried to fight me, C.W. would be busy planning her funeral. You know, it’s funny how people can adapt to anything. Here we all are, standing at the edge of disaster and we all continue to act on our basest emotions.”

“That’s part of being human. We can adapt to any misery, our capacity for it sometimes seems bottomless. I read someplace about romances between inmates in the Nazi concentration camps. If people can retain their humanity there, it can endure anywhere.”

“You think we will recover if we can’t prevent the avalanche?”

“As a species, absolutely. As a civilization, who knows?” Mercer’s phone jiggled.

“I’m back,” Ira said, his tone ominous.

Mercer caught it instantly. “What happened?”

“That was Kleinschmidt. He just came back from a meeting with the president’s national security council. As you can imagine, the president is under tremendous pressure to order an evacuation of the East Coast. Some say the order should have been given weeks ago. The idea of impeachment’s been floated. Meanwhile every senator and representative from Maine to Florida is clamoring for federal aid.”

“I told you I don’t care about the squabbles in Washington.”

“This one affects you. Originally you were given four weeks to stabilize the western side of that volcano and detonate the nuke, leaving one week for an evacuation if it doesn’t work. The president has decided to bump that up by a week in order to give people fourteen days to hightail it out of the danger zones.”

Mercer couldn’t respond.

“I’m sorry to hit you with this. It came right from the Oval Office. There was nothing I could do to stop it.”

“They call this a compromise, right? Jesus. Ira, if what we’re doing here fails, even those towering intellects on Capitol Hill have to understand an evacuation won’t mean shit. Taking away that week kills my chances while gaining almost nothing on the other end.”

“I argued that point, John Kleinschmidt argued that point and so did the vice president. On the other side were about fifty politicians representing forty million frightened Americans. We didn’t stand a chance. If it’s any consolation, the situation is much worse in Spain and Portugal. Both countries’ prime ministers have stepped down. And some of the Caribbean islands are in full-out revolt. Cuba, Haiti and the Dominican Republic are about the only places where people have a chance to survive and even there it’s chaos.”