We all moved over there as quickly as we could, hauling our gear with us. Dave had to open the door for us because it had a security card reader on it, like most doors in the plant. Once inside, the Old Man spotted the maintenance room and we all headed over to it.
The Old Man sat down on a gang-box. Color was returning to his face, which made me feel a lot better. He turned to Dave and said, “If I’m not mistaken, Security will be in here soon as this is a vital area and they’ll wonder what you’re doing in here. We need to hide out for a bit, but you need to get back to the control room.”
Dave just looked at him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” He knew a little about me, but nothing of this guy.
The Old Man started to get out of his wet suit and gear. “Just call me a friend of Nick’s if that helps any.”
Dave knew all this was extremely unorthodox for a nuclear power plant. We had just breached the security of his power plant, and he'd helped us do it. I was sure he was wondering how all this was going to turn out, but I also knew he had other things on his mind — as did we.
As I was getting out of my wet suit and piling my gear on the floor, Dave looked at me with pleading in his eyes.
“Do you know if my wife and kids are okay? Prichard said you were going to help them…?” He wanted to believe we could help somehow. He had to believe in something. He needed hope.
I looked him square in the eyes and said, “I’ve got my best man working on it. You have to trust me on this. We’re going to do everything we can to get your family back for you.”
I could tell Dave didn’t know if he believed me or not, but it was better than nothing. He was undoubtedly still in shock over what all was going on. I could see by the look on his face that he wasn’t thinking too clearly, but we couldn’t afford to sit around and talk like this. Security could be here soon, and we needed to avoid having them see us.
I grabbed Dave by the shoulders, as physical touch is always useful in connecting with someone. “Look me in the eyes. You need to believe that everything will be all right. I promise. Right now I need you back into the control room. Wait there for my instructions. In case you didn’t know, the insider is Rob, your security manager. We don’t know if the rest of the security force is tainted or not. Until we know, we have to assume they are.”
Dave’s eyes went wide with amazement. That was the voice on the phone. He knew he’d recognized it! But Rob? How could that be? He knew Rob. He couldn’t be a bad guy. As that thought settled in, another one crashed his brain. “Was he responsible for the death of Brenda Williams last weekend?”
“We really don’t know, but we have to assume he was involved somehow.”
We kept changing out of our wet suits as we talked. It didn’t take us long to put on the slacks, shirts, and shoes we brought with us. I gave the Old Man one of the Glock 19’s I’d brought in, which we tuck into our pants. We loaded extra magazines in our pockets.
Dave looked at the guns that were strictly prohibited in a nuclear facility. He reasoned that if the security responders had weapons and at least some of them were no longer trustworthy, then these two guys being armed seemed like a good thing. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, now more in command of his faculties.
“Just get back to the control room,” the Old Man told him again. “Wait for our call. We’ll call your restricted number. What is it?”
“How do you know about that?” Dave asked.
“All control rooms have a number they don’t publish, used just by the operators so they can always get through to you if they have to.”
“It’s 3388 from any plant phone, and you guys are well informed. People outside of ops don’t know about that.” Dave looked like he was gaining confidence in us.
“One more thing,” I told him. “I want you to call Marti Callahan. She’s your NRC resident and should be in her office. Tell her to meet us at…” I looked at the Old Man, who finished my sentence for me, “…the package boiler room in ten minutes.”
We were throwing a lot at Dave. He was probably tempted to question how we knew Marti and how we knew where the package boiler room was. Instead, as he watched us stow our dive gear behind one of the gang-boxes, he opted to keep his mouth shut for the time being and follow our instructions. He really did need to get back to the control room.
“Make sure you call her from a plant phone and not from the control room, in case someone is monitoring those lines. Now, lead us out of here. If a security officer checks on you, it’ll look like you’re doing a tour. Then get back to the control room. We’ll be in touch,” I said. “Let’s go!”
We stuck our heads out the door of the maintenance shop and didn’t see anyone in the electrical switchgear room. We quickly crossed over to the other side and exited the building to the outside through another card reader. Once through the door, the Old Man said to Dave, “I got it from here. Go! And don’t forget to call Marti!”
Dave hesitated for a moment, then turned and left quickly. As he headed off in one direction, I looked at the Old Man and said, “Lead the way.”
Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, the Old Man quickly led us to a nondescript side door in another building. This door didn’t have a key card on it, so we could walk right in. Inside the room was an old boiler used to provide steam for various auxiliary systems during the startup of the facility some twenty years ago. It hadn’t been used much since then. Most plants have one. There was only one way in and one way out of this room, and it didn’t look like a key piece of gear for the station to be worried about, so the door wasn’t an alarmed one. This made it an ideal room for us to hole up in for a while, because Security personnel wouldn’t know we were there and weren’t likely to even do rounds in there. Once inside, we went to the other end of the small room, behind the boiler, and out of sight of the door.
“Good choice of rooms,” I commented to the Old Man.
Another check of the time; it was 0217. We had a few minutes to rest. I reached into one of my pockets and got out a pack of M&M’s and offered a couple to the Old Man. M&Ms were a staple for SF guys in the field. I learned this in the grueling two-year qualifying program I went through where we were starved most of the time and eating nothing but MREs. Included in each ‘meal ready to eat’ was a treat. These could be M&M’s or Reese’s or Skittles. We’d often trade each other for our favorites. M&M’s were my candy of choice. They were a quick sugar boost and tasted great when there was nothing else to eat. I’d eat them one at a time, and even then, only one every so often. I got good at making them last a long time. It was a good way to stay sane in the intense world of qualification. So after I qualified and went to a team, I got in the habit of always keeping a pack with me.
As we munched on a few M&Ms, the Old Man looked at me and said, “Do you think it’s wise to bring Marti in on this? Is she up to it?”
I knew better than to dismiss his concerns. When deployed I would frequently have to bring in some local citizens to assist us. We were often thought of as a ‘force multiplier’. We did most of the heavy lifting, but we were used to having some support from the locals, too. It made us more effective. In this situation, the Old Man and I were the only boots on the floor, and we needed Marti for some intelligence. We already used Dave to get us out of the water box. This was how I did business. There was always risk in it for those who assisted me, but it didn’t seem to stop good guys from helping.
“You said it yourself earlier. We need someone who can move around the plant who won’t be scrutinized. We don’t have a key card and need to move around the plant. She either comes with us or she stays here and we use her key card. Because she’s NRC, she has access to all the vital areas on site. That’s good for us. And because she’s a woman, and the regulator, I don’t think security is going to be paying a great deal of attention to her.”