“Then the earth it’s seated into, then the dark matter that surrounds us and eventually sucking in all the planets, galaxies, and then the entire universe till it’s all so compressed it becomes another big bang.”
Brooke had strapped on a Kevlar vest and had an MP-5 submachine gun, two Mark 7 concussive flares (stun grenades), a night vision goggle headset, her Glock model 17 tactical weapon 9 on her hip, and a Seecamp .32 caliber semi-auto in her ankle holster. She was driven by a Swiss SWAT sergeant in his civilian car to be less conspicuous. They cruised the streets in the area north of the city where the cell tower was, looking for a strategic rationale with which to spot a potential safe house. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but had to try to spot a place she would select if she were a bad guy.
Raffey started the day with the thought that this was the day he and his family would die in sacrifice for the continuance of all mankind and every other planet in the galaxy. Either that or his last-minute gambit would work. He prayed all night and into the day that his plan would work, and if it did not, that the death of his family would be swift and painless.
The first attempt at the collision was computer-timed and accurately set for 3:00:01:000000001 p.m., that is, one billionth of a second past one second after 3 p.m. Geneva time. He’d make his call at 1 p.m. in order to give the kidnappers two hours. As a mid-level-ranked chess master, he had played out all the gambits, moves, and countermoves. It was his riskiest play ever, but he knew that in the end, he had to risk it all.
Brooke had narrowed her mental list down to four structures which were the most favorable if you wanted to hide out with hostages, yet not be totally incapacitated as to means of escape or blindness to any approach. Of course, it didn’t mean the bad guys read the same tactical books she had studied at Quantico, but there was no other way to whittle down a list. She checked her watch: 10:32 a.m. Bill’s meeting at the Hadron should be starting.
“Dr. Hiccock, the claims you have made here this morning are fantastic, to say the least,” the head of the Large Hadron Collider proclaimed as he turned to his colleagues, who nodded in support.
“Sir, your own head of security concurs,” Bill said.
“Is this true, Jenson?”
“Yes, I am afraid the confidence is high that Mr. Juth may have an ulterior purpose.”
“Well, have we talked to him?”
Bill resisted the urge to say, it isn’t that simple; instead he tried to use a scientific rationale. “Sir, it is a matter of cause and effect. While Mr. Juth may be committed to this path, we don’t know what the effect would be of confronting him. It could be disastrous. Instead, I believe our plan to isolate and contain him will yield the greatest amount of actionable data which we can then use to get all the facts as to complicity and accomplices.”
“I see. Of course this means our entire Landau Protocol’s-worth of experiments, our most ambitious effort yet will be derailed. The delay could cost us weeks.”
“I am aware of your schedule and the incredible cost that disengaging from your schedule will bear. But erring on the side of safety, not only for you, but for the facility as well as the machine, is in the final analysis the best, and may I dare say, the only course of action.”
The men around the table, all multi-PhDs and esteemed men of science, held an eyes-only conference and wound up all nodding. “Dr. Hiccock, we will follow your directive. We will take Mr. Juth out of the equation by not actually running today’s centerpiece experiment.”
“Thank you, gentlemen. May I stress how essential it is that he not know that this is not a real experiment? If at any time he senses we are aware of him, I fear we will lose any hope of eliminating this threat and all its components.”
One of the men at the table, who had not spoken previously, stood. “His console will be disarmed at the hub, but I can have nominal critical feedback routed to his station so that up to the moment he deviates from his tasks he won’t suspect a thing.”
“Thank you. That is precisely what we need.”
Then the head of the LHC spoke again. “Of course Dr. Hiccock, what if his means of destruction isn’t digital? What if there is some other attack, a physical one in the works?”
“We have taken steps. As soon as Mr. Juth signed in, army forces secured the facility from the outside, so if he is merely going to open the door for others who would do the deed, they will be stopped by the security.” Bill motioned for Jenson to continue.
“Also we have physical examination of every part of the collider and its support systems being checked by hand and electronic surveillance, including bomb sniffing dogs and experts in detonation all along the seventeen-mile ring,” Jenson said.
The immense size of the collider facility and the hundreds of staff meant there was much distance between Juth’s desk and any of the security measures being put in place. No one in his section was aware of any army personnel or search dogs, those elements being at least a quarter-mile away and above ground.
The “spin up” procedure was progressing normally toward the fraction-of-a — second-past-3:00:01 p.m. collision. Raffey’s part in the scientific drama had been rehearsed to be easily performed on the actual day of a collision, so he had time to go over in his mind his ultimatum to the bad guys and to pray to the ultimate good guy a few times.
At 12:57 p.m., Raffey left his station and headed for the employee smoking area. Most people in Europe had not read the American papers on the evils of smoking, so the place was packed. He decided to find a quieter place. There was an exit door in the hallway that afforded him quiet and seclusion to set forth his master plan.
He punched in the number that he had detangled from encrypted data strings he monitored at home when the kidnappers called. The phone rang three times. Raffey imagined them in shock, looking at the phone which they were sure was a secure one-way line.
The call was answered, but no one on the other side spoke. Raffey took a deep breath and read from the prepared speech he had written, rewritten, scrapped, and written again dozens of times since his plan emerged. “In two hours I will become an unnecessary appendage, and as such will be of no further use to you. Since I am the only one who can achieve your goal, you must comply with my demand. I want proof that my sister and her daughter are safe at a police station, or I will not carry out your plan. You can no longer pressure me. I know you will kill them as soon as I do what you ask, if they are not dead already. You have one hour and fifty-eight minutes to prove to me they are alive and safe. There will be no further communications.”
His hand was shaking, as he ended the call and crumpled the paper.
“Brooke, Kronos got a twenty! Juth just made contact with the bad guys. We got the address.” Joey said over the phone. “It seems like Juth has given them an ultimatum.”
Brooke immediately tightened the straps on her vest and seated a magazine in the machine gun on her lap as her driver headed to the address.
“How do we respond to this?” The Engineer asked.
“We must maintain our control over him. He cannot feel that he has any choice in the matter,” the Architect said.
Maya grabbed the cell phone and turned on the video camera.
“He wants proof of life; let’s send him proof of death.”