Hiccock almost hit his head as he slammed on the brakes to avoid a woman with a stroller who absentmindedly stepped out right in front of them.
“For Pete’s sake!” Bridgestone snarled.
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“Take the wheel,” Hiccock said as he jumped out the driver door and around the front of the car to the passenger side. Bridgestone slid over and peered out the top of the windshield. He got a bead on the copter and peeled out before Bill had the door closed.
“White House signals, hold for Situation Room,” the voice on the other end of Bill’s phone announced.
“Tell the President I’ll call him back.”
That got an impressive look from Bridgestone.
Bill dumped the White House call and re-dialed. “Kronos… get Peter’s book.”
“You mean Harmonic Epsilon?”
“Yes. Put it up on the rings. I need this fast. Ready?”
“Got it; shoot!”
“The Jesus Factor. Where is New York City now and is there a cusp coming soon.”
“Got it. Where are you?”
“New York. Chasing the suitcase.”
“Are you out of your freakin’ gourd?”
“What can I tell ya? Trouble is just my middle name.”
“Where is New York now?” Bridgestone asked. “What does that mean?”
“What is New York’s exact distance from the sun at this instant,” Hiccock said.
Kronos came back over the speakerphone. “I got two Crays, strapped together at Dartmouth. We patched in Professor Quan Li and he is uploading an algorithm now.”
“I thought you said one of the scientists on that original committee was the leader’s brother, Dr. Brodenchy,” Bridge said.
“Yes, and that was back in ‘68. But I am hoping for a two-cushion-shot here.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Back then, a computer could carry something to eight decimal points.”
“You already lost me… Just give me the sit rep…”
“Huh? Oh, situational report. Well, I guess that abbreviation didn’t save any time. We might be able to shoot the thing down without a detonation.”
“How you going to pull that off? That’s a suitcase nuke up there and they are not too stable. A little thing like hitting the ground at 300 or so miles per hour might just trigger the thing off.”
“Jesus Factor, Bridge. We figured it out on a basketball.”
Bridge slowly turned and looked at Bill with a screwed expression.
“There’s a line in space, a cusp, and as the Earth goes through it, having large mass, one part is nuclear safe while the other is vulnerable. Then it all reverses cyclically. Depending on the position of a spot on Earth and the sun, you either can or can’t have a nuclear explosion.”
“I’ll be dipped. Like how, on New year’s Eve, it’s already next year in Austrailia when the sun hasn’t set in Times Square yet.”
“Exact… Yes, that’s exactly it. How come I didn’t think of that?”
“We’re running,” Kronos reported over the speakerphone of the Blackberry.
“Peter Remo theorized about instantaneous values of Harmonic 33. Kronos, can you run a time sweep and give me instantaneous values longitudinally? Also, can you give me an eight-place simulation as well.”
“Peter’s here and we already did that. Anything else?”
“Stand by; I am literally thinking on the run here.”
Bridgestone had a light bulb moment. “Okay, so I think I got it now, the bad guys are working with old data from way back when and they obviously think it will go off. Meanwhile, you and the characters on the other end of the phone are checking to see if this thing maybe can’t go off?”
“Exactly. Peter was involved in the early formulas and then worked with Ensiling on derivative instantaneous values of H33.”
Bridgestone held up his hand to signal “I surrender.”
Hiccock slowed it down, as much for him to work it through as to help Bridge. “What it comes down to is that the old equations just covered the U.S. in total, but New York is inside the footprint of America. It’s at least 300 miles inside the Maine shoreline. Today, computers can carry a number out to 40,000 decimal places.”
“160,000,” Peter corrected over the phone.”
“See, even better! Anyway, Brodenchy’s calculations will tell him when the entire U.S., to Maine, is vulnerable to nuclear detonation before he fires. But Peter and Kronos, using Ensiling’s new computations that Brodenchy couldn’t get from Ensiling — or from his own brother, who we have in custody — can tell the exact second before that when New York turns destroyable. Prior to that, it should be safe to risk shooting him down.”
Hiccock grabbed Bridgestone’s sat-com phone from its clip on his belt and flipped it open. “Signals, this is SCIAD, I want a joint call to Sitch Room White House, military air command, and NEST.”
“Stand by SCIAD. Voiceprint sampling now.”
“William Hiccock, Special Advisor to POTUS.” Bill spoke in an even tone, despite the frantic rush.
There were some beeps and a click. Both men strained to see the copter now disappearing and reappearing between the buildings of Manhattan.
“You drive; I’ll watch it,” Hiccock said with both phones in his hands and his head out the passenger window. “Go right on 34th….”
“I have a positive match. Your call is connected, SCIAD.”
“General, do we have the ability to shoot down a helicopter over Manhattan right now?” Hiccock didn’t know for sure, but assumed a general was somewhere on the line.
“Affirmative. We are two minutes into a CAP over Manhattan Island. Two F 15-E Strike Eagles out of Gabreski Air National Guard base on Long Island.”
“Have them identify and lock on to a blue-and-white news helicopter right now flying directly over the Empire State building.”
“Bill, this is the President. Are you targeting the press?”
“Sir, this is a stunt copter for a movie. Only one side is painted press. The other is all white. Maybe your pilots can confirm that. But do not fire, General, until I get the all clear.”
“From who?” the General said with umbrage at the fact that there was someone else higher in the chain of command. Hiccock could tell from that response that it was probably the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs on the line.
“Peter, Kronos,” Hiccock said and then talked into the other phone. “C’mon guys, I need to know now. There can’t be much time left.”
“Just a second more…. Got it. Okay, Cray Dartmouth says cusp in 40 seconds.”
“Kronos, be very sure of your next answer. Which way is the cusp going?”
“Hold on. Okay, it’s heading on a z axis through the ninth meridian…”
“Kronos! Is New York hot or not?”
The General’s tone was one of seeming protest to the President. “Sir, this man is advocating a weapons-free rule of engagement over a major metropolitan area. Do you trust him?”
“He’s trying to stop a nuke attack. He’s never let me down before.”
The Chief of Staff then interrupted and clarified, “Sir, the General needs to hear your order, sir.”
The weight of this landed squarely on the President’s shoulders.
“General, I order you to release weapons upon Mr. Hiccock’s signal for you to do so.”