Protocol called for him to trigger a plant-wide alert. Reluctantly, he went to the wall panel, opened the metal door and pulled the ‘Seismic Alert’ lever down.
Now bells were ringing all over. Everyone seemed to stop where they were. Loud speakers announced, "Seismic Anomaly. Seismic Anomaly." The verbal warning was computer-generated and repeated every thirty seconds.
Every employee had a station to monitor in the event of this type of alert. Employees moved quickly to their stations. Most stations ended up being manned by two people. Because of the pending shift change, neither was sure which of them was in charge.
After about a minute of sustained ‘seismic anomaly,’ the ripples on the Operator’s monitor stopped, and a flat, steady line reappeared. The Operator tried resetting the alarm again. The bells and announcements ceased.
The Operator’s voice boomed over the loud speakers, "Inspect stations. Report to supervisors."
No one knew what had just happened. The Operator was pretty sure everything at the plant was working okay, though. There were no other alarms or red lights on his panels.
When after five minutes, all supervisors had checked in, reporting no problems, it appeared that no damage had been done. Nevertheless, an incident like this one required immediate reporting to the Plant Manager and the NRC. In fact, the Operator in the control room knew the automated system had made those calls already.
CHAPTER 50
I had decided to turn off my headlamp while I sat in the darkness of the bomb bay. I might need to be able to see in the dark. I should let my eyes adjust as much as possible. This had already been a long night. And it would only get longer.
As I shifted position, trying to keep my muscles from tightening up, I thought I heard a muffled sound, like thunder in the distance. I held myself motionless, listening. A few seconds later, there it was again. I was sure the acoustics of the cylindrical metal bay distorted the sound. I kept listening, not moving, muscles tensed, adrenaline pumping.
There it was again.
It seemed to be echoing down the river valley from upstream. Like sustained thunder. Or a series of depth charges. That is actually what it sounded most like — the sound of depth charges heard from inside a submarine. I knew that sound intimately. I did not associate it with pleasant memories.
As I tried to interpret the meaning of the low echoes, I heard a thud and a grunt from outside the plane. Then loud voices.
Man: "Got him right on the nut with the old Reggie Jackson commemorative, Brenda. Stee — rike three! You’re outta there!"
Brenda: "Should I take his gun, Urland? What if he wakes up?"
Urland: "I’ll make sure he’s out first…. Okay. Go ahead and get his gun."
Brenda: "I got it Urland."
Urland: "All right. I’ll tie him up and haul him outta sight somewhere before somebody sees him. You call John."
While I continued to listen, I sent a text message to Bull. "sos @ rgk need u asap." RGK was the official designation for the Red Wing Airport.
As I tapped on my cell, I could hear what I presumed to be the deputy, my first line of defense, being dragged away from the plane.
Brenda: "Hello? John? It’s all clear. Come on in."
A few moments later, I heard the man and woman talking to each other. They were some distance from the plane now. They sounded excited and were speaking quite loudly. A few seconds later, I heard the sound of a vehicle approaching the plane. It pulled up along the left side of the fuselage, adjacent to the forward roof entry hatch.
Urland: "We got ‘im, John."
John: "Shhh!" He spoke in a loud whisper. "We don’t need to let all the neighbors know we’re here. There are houses just past the runway."
There were some metallic clanking noises, then the sound of a ladder being leaned against the fuselage near the plane’s nose.
Urland: "You know, I’m not one to complain. But do we have to haul this stuff up that ladder? Wouldn’t it work better to put those steps over there up to the back. It’s a lot lower."
John: "We need this stuff up front. So that’s where it’s going. Why do you think I had you hauling all those buckets around to get in shape? "
Urland: Loud whisper. "Sorry, John. What do you want us to do?"
John: "Brenda, get up in the pickup and hand the buckets to Urland. Urland you get on the ladder, so you can reach the buckets from Brenda. I’m going inside the plane. You need to lower the buckets down to me one at a time. Real careful. Got it! So don’t screw this up!
"Let’s get started."
I heard someone climb the ladder and open the forward hatch. More sounds of climbing inside the plane. Then there was a lot of grunting and whining from outside. The bucket brigade was struggling to get the buckets up the ladder.
When I heard grunting from inside the plane, I assumed that a bucket had been delivered. There were footsteps and movement on the crawlway, nearly to the back of the bomb bay. Then a metallic thunk.
A metal bucket finding a home onboard?
I thought about trying to stop the enemy now. But without knowing exactly how many there were, how they had been trained, or what weapons they possessed, trying to take them all out from my starting point in the bomb bay didn’t seem like a good bet. Besides, if the crewman had effectively disabled the plane, there was no real danger to the plant. Now was not the time to intervene.
There was more movement toward the front of the plane. More grunting and whining, mostly from the woman. Another bucket stowed near the rear of the crawlway. At least the stuff seemed to be in containers of manageable size. I had predicted the location correctly. And no one was trying to get into the bomb bay.
Everything was as I had anticipated. The real bitch was that, if this plane got off the ground, it was headed for a really rough landing.
CHAPTER 51
It was just after 3:00 a.m. and both the Plant Manager and NRC inspector were in the plant control room.
Plant Manager: "I know what I heard on the phone, but give it to us both one more time."
Operator: "Okay. First there was a seismic alarm. I checked the monitor and it seemed isolated. So I reset the alarm.
"Just as I was going back to my desk, the damn thing went off again. This time, when I tried to shut it off, it just kept ringing, and the monitor showed nearly constant, low level, seismic activity. So I triggered the general alarm, just like the book says."
He looked at the NRC guy. "Everybody got to stations right away. And a minute or so later, it was all over. Nobody reported any systems compromised and all my controls and monitors read normal.
"Damned if I know what it was."
Plant Manager: "Well, whatever it was seems to be over."
But before he’d finished his sentence, another alarm bell went off. The Operator scanned his panels and moved to the red light.
Operator: "The water level in the river is down two feet from what it was an hour ago. The cooling system computers monitor any significant change in river water level. That’s what triggered the alarm."
Plant Manager: "What in the name of… what’s going on here?" The Plant Manager scratched his head, then pounded his fist down on the Operator’s table. "Damn it! Get me the Army Corp emergency line. It’s their damn river!"
The Operator picked up a line to the switchboard. They would have the emergency number and connect him.
NRC: "With an unexplained drop in river level, and primary cooling of the reactors dependent on river water, I am officially notifying you to shut down the reactors immediately."
He said it directly to the Plant Manager. And it wasn’t a request.