Terry nodded solemnly.
“Dallas, yer and me arrive ‘n hazmat suits. We blow the door and rush the containment room. The cargo elevator is directly back of the main door and will run us to the underground bunker; emergency backup power should keep the elevator operatin’. We locate this pushcart to ferry the cargo out the facility,” he said, highlighting a compact box that would contain the twenty pounds of enriched uranium. “Then we’re off like a bride’s nitie and meet back at Colt’s Humvee. This is a very tight op, but it should be no sweat.
“Stark, keep droppin’ the guards. Same goes for Rafie and Terry…as soon as ya blow the lights, fall back to the Humvee and provide cover fire. Ivan and Tooz, ya’ll wait for Dallas and me to bring the goods. Cover Stark ‘til he flees ‘is perch…then y’all beat it back to the Humvee. No playin’ possum. Like I said, we finish this dealo in less than fifteen minutes or we’re pinched. Short of that… were aces. Alrighty, let’s hear yer thoughts, mates,” he said, bracing for an onslaught of disagreement.
The men maintained their rapt attention. Rafie was shaking his head in disbelief and was the first to speak. “What’s the pay on this job, Boss; ’cause I’ll tell you…it ain’t nearly enough. Crazy fucking plan, if you want my honest opinion. I’ll create your diversion easy enough, but we’re gonna lose some guys. How do you justify a plan like this?” he asked, shrugging, palms turned up, looking for support from the group.
Kilmer looked hard at his second-in-command. A confrontation between the two had been brewing for some time. “Rafie, there’s no back hander comin’. It’s dangerous, sure; of all people, ya know this. If ya squib out, I’ll find someone else, but fat chance gettin’ ‘nother call if ya sit this one out,” he warned. “It’s a big job with a big risk… but if we stick to the plan, we’re good as gold.”
Weaver spoke next. “Tell me a little more about the containment area. I blow the door with Terry’s shape charge, then you and I enter the bunker below. How will we know what to take or when we’ve got the correct amount?”
“Good on ya, mate,” Kilmer replied. “Holloway promised the cargo will be stashed and ready to roll. We have and insider. All we do is locate this containment cart,” he said, pointing to a small pushcart that was isolated on the screen. “The booty’s sealed for transport. The package is lead-lined and heavy, but we’ll roll it right out the blummin’ door. Don’t ask how he arranged it; but trust me…its the full quid.”
“What’s the total number of men on the lab’s security detail?” Tommy Starkovich asked. “As soon as Terry and Rafie blow the lights, Thor will be busy with more than a dozen men.”
“Sorry, mate, that part of the recon’s a tad wonky,” Kilmer answered, rubbing his hands together. “We can expect a dozen guards on duty any given evenin’. Two bloats each are usually located at the main entrance and these two side exits” he said, pointing out the guard shacks that controlled access to the complex.
“More on our side’ll be the blackout when the lights blow. Ya’ll clock the backup lightin’ when they come on. Our night-vision gives us a big advantage. If Stark takes out the six guards at the gates and helps shoot out the emergency lightin’, I’m dead cert the rest of ya can handle the remainin’ security. Then it’s simply a matter of blowin’ the containment door, nicking the cargo, and haulin’ arse.”
“Usual getaway?” Colt Hamil asked, as the buzz in the room began to quiet down.
Kilmer sensed a change in sentiment. From the relaxed look on most of the men’s faces, their initial reticence seemed to be thawing. Other than Rafie, there seemed to be a consensus that the plan looked achievable.
“Ya got it, mate. Should be cake,” Kilmer replied. “When the lights blow, ya figure Stark’s takin’ out both guards, so ram the gate and drive directly to the containment buildin’. While Dallas and me are in the bunker, yer cover for the guys fallin’ back. When we’re all t’gether, drive out this side entrance to the rondo point on Bayshore Drive,” he said, pointing to the exit. “The Humvee will cozy into the back of the Peterbilt; then we split up and meet the next day. Only Colt, Dallas, and me stay with the cargo, the rest of ya’ll split.”
“You make it sound like we’re invading a Boy Scout camp,” Rafie piped up again, still annoyed from Kilmer’s earlier rebuff. “There’s a flaw in your plan, Richard. You don’t know the extent of the counterforce we’ll be facing, the amount of firepower they have, or the location of possible reinforcements. You’re rushing the team into a terribly deadly situation. We need more time to study the security detail,” he said, hoping to slow the growing support.
“Rafie, I admit the plan ain’t aces,” Kilmer replied. “But we’ll catch the mob off guard. Our firepower, night-vision, and the compressed timeline put the odds in our favor. I agree…more recon would be peachy, but we don’t have time. We go with the new moon t’morrow as planned. If there’s no more questions, I’d like to know if any other piker wants out o’ the op.”
“Hold on there, Boss,” Rafie said, irritably. “I didn’t say I was out. And I’ll come up with your diversion. But for the record…this one stinks. Watch your backs, boys.”
While there was still some grumbling from Terry Ventura and Tommy Starkovich, the balance of the men seemed reasonably confident the mission presented no more uncertainty than any others in which they had engaged. Sully Metusack was always in a good mood, no matter the mission he was offered. Likewise, Ivan Krilenko was stoic throughout the briefing, nodding approval of his assignment and the overall plan. It didn’t look like Colt or Weaver had anything further to add to the discussion, so it appeared Kilmer had his team to tackle the Lawrence Livermore job.
“Good oh, mates, glad to have ya on board. We gear up t’morrow 21:00 to walk through the plan one last time,” Kilmer concluded.
Most of the team members shuffled slowly to their feet, some lingering to discuss the plan more informally, and Weaver stayed long enough to shut down the video equipment. Rafie was the only one that remained convinced the plan had serious flaws, but was unsuccessful in galvanizing resistance. To his credit, he didn’t make a big fuss expressing his discontent, realizing there was no merit in pushing his lone dissent. He quietly gathered his notebook and retreated from the conference room without further comment.
Kilmer had to admit that Rafie was dead-on accurate. The lack of specificity about the security detail and the inordinate cover positions the lab provided was indeed problematic. He appreciated that Rafie hadn’t pressed the point. Kilmer knew he should apologize for taking him to task in front of the men.
Regardless, Kilmer was supremely confident that the plan he designed would yield the results that Holloway demanded. It wasn’t prudent tactical planning to attain an objective that induced disproportionate casualties. In this case, however, the loss of a critical team member, or two, was an acceptable risk given the complexity of the mission and the expected payoff. He hoped like hell there were no more than a dozen guards at the lab or the causalities were likely to dramatically rise. His pulse quickened at the thought of the approaching mission. He realized his life, too, was very much on the line.
TWENTY-THREE
Washington, D.C.
Sela Coscarelli checked the time on her cell phone and frowned. It was getting late and she figured that her father was most likely still at a dinner, being schmoozed by constituents or lobbyists, or had already left the senate office for his Georgetown apartment. She knew he hated cell phones and it wasn’t likely he had it with him, so she decided to call his chief of staff, Benjamin Dare. He’d know her father’s whereabouts and could get him a message to call her immediately. She dialed Ben’s number and waited for the call to connect as she walked to her office.