Выбрать главу

Moms nodded at him. “Thanks. Is Oak Ridge still active?”

“Yes,” Ivar said. “And it has a plutonium core that’s still active. Going through the Archives, I read that the first Rift ever opened used a plutonium core.”

“The demon core,” Eagle said.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Scout muttered.

“Ditto,” Nada said.

“It’s a core that Area 51 appropriated from Los Alamos,” Ivar said. “Killed two researchers.”

“Sounds even worse,” Scout said.

Ivar turned to Eagle. “What is Odessa?”

Everyone stared at the newest member of the team in surprise.

“What are you talking about?” Moms asked.

“The group that opened the first Rift,” Ivar said. “It was called Odessa.”

Eagle had instant access to the pile of useless and useful facts in his brain. “I assumed you meant the group at Area 51 and not the Frederick Forsyth book or the movie adapted from it, which was actually based on a real organization, which the group at Area 51 also used. Roughly Odessa stands for Organization of former SS, which the Nazi and Japanese scientists at Area 51 called themselves. They were led by a former SS officer, Colonel”—Eagle paused, having to access deeper thoughts—“Colonel Schmidt. They all disappeared when they opened the Rift using the demon core.”

Moms held up her hand as she processed all this. “Okay. So. It could be the Loudoun Dam, the Watts Bar nuclear reactor, or Oak Ridge.”

“It ain’t that complicated,” Nada said. He pointed down at the dock. “The river is the key. We go with the river, we follow the golden glow, and I bet we run into the Fireflies and Burns somewhere along the way. First the dam, then Oak Ridge, then the nuke plant. Meanwhile, you get Support to put additional security down at Watts Bar and at Oak Ridge. Especially any water intake. Also, seal off the dam area. We go downriver to the dam.”

Moms turned to Ivar. “You figure out a way to track this golden glow thingie?”

“We don’t even know what it is,” Ivar hedged. “But,” he continued before anyone jumped on his expertise with combat boots, “I’ve rigged this.” He held up a backpack with a long wand attached to it. “It will determine electronic fluctuations, especially in the water. If there’s something in there”—he nodded toward the dark river flowing under the dock—“this will find it.”

Moms looked over her bedraggled team. “We’ve got some hours of darkness left. I want to contain and control this before dawn or else it might go viral. We head downriver. Ivar, you’re in the lead boat with me and Roland and Kirk. Doc, you’re in the second boat with Nada and Mac. Eagle, you fly overhead.”

“I don’t have the chain gun,” Eagle said.

“But you’ve got eyes and imaging,” Moms said. “You’re our eye in the sky and our commo link to Support. Also, I want two Apaches on your shoulders. Can you link and slave their weapons to your control system?”

Eagle thought for a second, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Good,” Moms said. “You control their fire once we make contact.”

“Roger,” Eagle said.

“What about me?” Scout said.

Moms looked at the young woman/girl.

Before she could say something, Scout volunteered an answer. “I can be on the Sea-Doo. Cover your flank or whatever it is scouts do.”

“They scout,” Nada said. “Covering the flank is an appropriate mission for a scout.”

“She’s a civilian,” Moms said.

“We’re past that,” Nada replied. “She was our asset in North Carolina and she’s our asset here.” He didn’t add what only the two of them knew: Ms. Jones had said do it, so do it they would.

“I can drive a Sea-Doo too,” Kirk said. “Let’s us cover more of the river. I’ll take one side, Scout the other.”

Moms sighed. “All right.”

“Do I get paid?” Scout asked.

“No,” Moms said automatically.

“Do I get a gun?”

Moms was about to give the rote answer, but Nada interceded. “Do you know how to use one?”

“Yes,” Scout said, all seriousness for once. “I took the daylong course.”

“Roland,” Nada said. “What do you have for our scout?”

* * *

Kirk would have recognized Jimmy DiSalvo for exactly what he was: a meth-head nut job, tweaking so bad he kept loading and unloading the four bullets he had left into the magazine for the 9-mm pistol he’d taken from the store clerk.

The other five bullets that had been in the gun were now in the store clerk at Weigel’s back in Farragut. DiSalvo didn’t get it: Why get killed over a minimum-wage job?

It never occurred to him to wonder why he’d killed the clerk over one hundred forty-two dollars. And twenty-seven cents. And four bullets.

Three bullets as one escaped DiSalvo’s fingers and tumbled down the side of the cliff and disappeared into the water below.

He should have made a wish, although what do you get for a bullet in a lake?

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” DiSalvo kept repeating, hitting himself on the side of his head with the hand holding the three bullets. The contact made him feel better, believing that he was knocking sense into his brain, which needed it; after all, that’s what his dad had always told him every time he whacked Jimmy upside the head.

But he didn’t want to lose the bullets! That piece of common sense rattled through, so he switched hands.

Except he forgot he had the unloaded gun in that other hand and the next whack was the barrel of the gun rather than his hand. DiSalvo was dazed.

Dazed layered on top of confused while standing on top of a cliff over a lake formed by the brightly lit dam just to his right was not a good combination. DiSalvo staggered, tried to right himself, and then followed the bullet.

He bounced several times off the rocky cliff, hard enough and often enough that by the time he hit the water, he didn’t have to worry about drowning.

He should have made a wish.

* * *

“Why did you recruit Burns?” Hannah asked.

Dr. Golden was seated across from her, hands folded in her lap, listening in.

There was the slight hiss of reassuring static out of the speakerphone, meaning that the encryption was working. Hannah often wondered if the designer left that static in for the reassurance. Surely technology was advanced enough now that the static could be engineered out?

“His family,” Ms. Jones responded, her voice containing its own static.

“More specifically?” Hannah pressed, not used to Ms. Jones being evasive.

“His grandfather was Colonel Johan Schmidt, the leader of the Odessa group at Area 51.”

“Ah,” Hannah said. “But that still does not explain why you recruited him.”

“We don’t know what happened with the first Rift,” Ms. Jones said. “Schmidt was involved. There is a legacy. I felt that legacy would unfold. So I recruited him for the Nightstalkers.”

“That might have been a mistake,” Dr. Golden said.

“It might have,” Ms. Jones admitted, “but we have yet to see how this current event will play out. Obviously, Burns is central to it. This has been building. Whether by plan or by circumstance, I can’t say, although I lean toward the former especially given the events of last year in North Carolina and Scout’s involvement now and here.”

“I don’t like it,” Hannah said. “There are too many unknown variables.”

“There usually are,” Ms. Jones said. “But we have our best people on it.”

“Do they know Burns’s location or target?”

“Negative on location,” Ms. Jones said. “But they have three potential targets in order of priority and proximity: The Loudoun Dam, Oak Ridge, and the Watts Bar nuclear plant.”