"The hot water drains in the tunnels. It clears out the containment tower."
"Very good. Do you want to push the button? Or shall I?"
"You do it. I told you where it is, but I'll be damned if I'll push it."
"As you wish. Which dial do I watch to determine the progress?"
"Up there, high on the board. That red bulb. When the valve is open, the bulb blinks."
Glinkov depressed the red button with a flourish. He turned a radiant, sardonic smile on Robbins. Gesturing to the guard behind him, he said, "I don't believe we need any more from Mr. Robbins at the moment. I'll call him when it's time to pull the control rods. You can permit him to rejoin his colleagues."
The guard stepped forward, taking Robbins by the arm. The engineer stood reluctantly. If he appeared too eager, Glinkov might suspect something. The guard tugged his arm, and he moved toward the secondary control room. The sentry rose and opened the door. Robbins was shoved roughly inside by his escort. The door slammed shut behind him.
He stumbled over the feet of another hostage and fell to the floor. The other hostages looked at him questioningly. He shook his head to clear it and crawled to a sitting position. So far, so good. He hadn't told Glinkov about the evacuation pump or the second valve. Without using the pump, the water would take hours to drain. And unless the second valve was opened, the water would simply fill the tunnels, slowly draining out of the reactor vessel under the influence of gravity. It couldn't reach the Hudson. It seemed like a small thing, but it was all he could hope for. It was their only chance to reverse the madness.
"What's going on out there?" someone whispered.
"They're draining the reactor vessel," Robbins answered. He continued to face front. He tried not to move his lips as he spoke.
"Why? What are they trying to do?"
"I don't know. And I don't want to guess. The more important question is what are they going to do with us?"
"They'll let us go, won't they?"
Another hostage joined the discussion. "I mean, once they get what they came for, there'll be no reason to keep us here."
"Don't count on it. As near as I can figure, they want this to look like an accident. They can't very well leave us around to say it wasn't, can they? I figure they plan to kill us all and leave this place so hot nobody will get in to learn the truth for years."
"Are you crazy?"
"I'm not, no. But I'm not so sure about him."
"Who the hell is he? Where did he come from?"
"I can only guess. But I'll tell you one thing. The next time that door opens, if I get the chance, I'm going to try to get a gun. If we can do that, we can hold them off in here."
"For how long?"
"How long do we have without it?" Robbins asked.
The others said nothing.
Glinkov watched the temperature gauge for the Unit 1 reactor. It was slowly rising, the needle quivering in place and jumping upward from time to time. In the distance an alarm bell rang continually. It had started as soon as the ventilation valve had opened. The red bulb high up on the control board blinked hypnotically.
Glinkov stared at it. Things were proceeding smoothly. More smoothly than he had hoped. In a little more than an hour, he would be on the helicopter Achison was bringing in. The others had served him well but, of course, they would remain behind.
Permanently. There was still one thing needed for an unqualified success, however. Mack Bolan had to be eliminated. Where was he? As long as the Peres woman remained alive, he was certain to make an attempt to free her. He should have been here already.
Well, there was still time. For Malcolm Parsons, however, time had run out. He was excess baggage at this point. Glinkov waved to the guard behind him.
"I have something I would like you to take care of."
"Sir?"
"Mr. Parsons is no longer essential to our plans here. Dispose of him, won't you?"
"Yes, sir," the guard said without questioning his leader's order. "Where is he?"
"He's on Level 4. In an office at the end of the corridor. One of the men down there can show you to him."
The guard hefted his Kalashnikov and grinned.
"I'll be right back." He crossed the wide floor to the control room exit and walked quickly toward the elevator bank. It was going to be a pleasure. Parsons was an egotistical windbag.
The elevator came slowly, opened with a sigh and closed behind him. When it reached the bowels of the plant, it opened on a dim corridor. The guard moved swiftly, his step almost jaunty. As he neared the end of the long passage, he saw two team members standing guard, one outside of each door.
"Where's Parsons?"
The guard gestured with his head. "In here."
He pushed through the door. Parsons was seated behind a desk, writing busily. He didn't look up when the man entered. The newcomer crossed the office floor and plopped down in a chair alongside the desk. "You writing another one of your bullshit speeches?"
"That's right, I am," Parsons said.
"Don't bother."
"Oh, but I must. Nuclear energy is one of the greatest social issues of our time. I have a duty to speak out."
"Finish it when we come back then."
"Oh, are we going somewhere?"
"Yup, we are. Let's go."
The guard stood up impatiently. Parsons continued to scribble. "I'll be with you in a moment. I never like to leave a thought in the middle. Sometimes you can't pick it up again."
"I never had that problem," the guard said.
Parsons finished with a flourish and placed his pen down on the paper. He smiled up at the guard.
"I shouldn't wonder," he said. "Now, where are we going in such a hurry?"
"Andrey has something he wants you to look at."
The two men left the office and stepped out into the corridor. "Just a minute," Parsons said. "I forgot to turn off the light." He stepped back into the office. At the desk he reached over and pressed the Off button on the fluorescent desk lamp. The room was coal black.
"Hurry up, Parsons, Andrey's in a hurry."
A moment later, Parsons stepped back into the hallway. He closed the door tightly and nodded to the guard. "Be back in a half hour, Thomas. Please don't let anyone in while I'm gone."
The guard smiled at Thomas behind Parsons's back. "You heard what the man said. Take care of those valuable papers."
If Parsons noticed the sarcasm, he gave no sign. The guard moved on to the end of the corridor and turned right. It was the only direction he could take. The corner was at the outside edge of the largest rectangle on which the plant was built.
Ahead of the two men, another corridor, lit even more dimly, stretched as far as they could see.
"What exactly does Andrey wish me to see?" Parsons asked.
"Be patient, old man."
"Old man, is it? I'm not as old as you think."
Maybe not, the guard thought, but you're as old as you're gonna get. He walked behind Parsons and slightly to one side of the older man's left shoulder. All that remained was to find a suitable place to knock off the old windbag, and he could get back upstairs where the action was. Steel doors, identical to those on the previous corridor, were set into the right-hand wall of the passage. They were spaced farther apart. That meant the rooms were larger.
Probably for storage, the guard thought. A good place to take care of business.
"Is it much farther?" Parsons asked.
"The next door," the guard answered. Why in hell not, he thought. He had a master key. He could open any goddamn door in the place.