“The wall is sloped gradually so we can easily make a descent and then return without much difficulty,” Maria stated, throwing the rope into the cave below, and then looking at Eli.
“What happens if another quake hits while we are in there?” Burr asked apprehensively.
“God hates a coward,” Eli replied nervously. “Oh, I forgot, you don’t believe in God, do you? You gotta’ love the irony in that.” He grabbed the line and started his descent into the cave, laughing as he disappeared below.
He may hate a fool even more, Burr thought angrily as he followed Maria down the rope into the unknown.
24
“Mr. President, you are talking about a preempted military strike on a sovereign country. I strongly advise against any such action, as the repercussions would be dire,” said Admiral Thomas Borland, the current Commander in Chief of the Atlantic fleet, designated COMLANTFLT. “We have enough problems at the United Nations to deal with, without adding another situation to the mix. Their current thinking is that we have a proclivity to shoot first and negotiate later. We must first contact the proper authorities on Tenerife.”
“Tom, the U.N. be damned. I understand and appreciate your position on this matter but, as President, I have an obligation to protect the people of the United States and I intend to do so. All I am asking is if we have any naval assets in the vicinity of the northwestern coast of Africa?”
“Sir, the nearest carrier group is in the Persian Gulf, but without flyover permission for our aircraft to cross foreign airspace, any military incursion would have to do an in-flight refuel,” the admiral said. “Even if we were to launch an air strike now, it would take over five hours to reach the target area.”
“That may be too late, based on the information we have gathered pertaining to this situation,” President Clark said in frustration. “Do we have anything that is closer?”
“Well, according to the CNO, we do have an Austin class LPD amphibious transport dock that shipped out from Rota, Spain last night with two escort frigates. It’s headed back to Norfolk for decommission,” Borland stated, looking at the chief naval officer’s daily positioning status report.
“Admiral,” the President said, slightly annoyed, “in layman’s terms please. What is an LPD?”
“My apologies, Mr. President, the LPD is an amphibious assault ship used to transport and land Marines, their equipment, and supplies in combat or rescue assignments. It is supported by its own helicopters or vertical take-off and landing aircraft, if so assigned. They can carry up to nine hundred Marines for specialized missions. The Austin class is being mothballed since they were built in the late sixties.”
“Admiral Borland, that will suffice quite nicely,” Clark said, his hopes elevated, but only a little. “I want you to divert the…what is the name of the ship?”
“The Hazleton, Mr. President.”
“Yes, the Hazleton. I want you to transmit orders to divert it to the Canaries at all possible speed. Even if we find we don’t need the military assets, I have the feeling that La Palma is going to need some evacuation and humanitarian assistance,” Clark said. “At best, it will provide us with a valid reason for our presence in the vicinity.”
“Very good, Mr. President, I’ll have the CNO issue the orders right away,” the admiral replied without emotion. “What message would you like to relay to its captain?”
“Once the vessel is en route, I’ll contact the captain personally. This is going to be a tough one to explain, so once you’ve had him alter course, have the personnel at COMLANTFLT put me through to him.”
“I’m on it, Mr. President.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Clark said, hanging up the phone and turning to Under Secretary of State Robertson.
“Have you been able to reach Turner yet?”
“No, sir, I keep getting a no-service intercept signal. Either it’s off or disabled somehow.”
“Damn! Without specific data, we are shooting at ducks with a peashooter. I know we can obtain the general information on the location of this Bishamon facility on Tenerife, but we cannot afford to take out an innocent facility or observatory, which are in the general vicinity of the target zone. We need a spotter on-site, and Turner’s phone has GPS tracking capabilities. Keep trying to reach him, Jim,” he said, looking at FEMA Director Stephen Boyle.
“What about the tsunami threat, Mr. President? “Boyle asked. “Do we issue an alert?”
“Steve,” Clark said, pausing for a moment as he took a deep, thoughtful breath. “I want you to issue an alert to the media and to the Emergency Alert System affiliates on the east coast only. Have them explain that an evacuation warning will be in place as of noon today, Eastern Time, for the entire eastern coastline of the United States. At that time I’ll be issuing a statement to the press,” he said, knowing that there was no turning back; he had committed himself totally.
“I hope to God we’re right about this, Mr. President,” Boyle said tersely.
“Mr. Boyle,” the President said, looking up from his folded hands. “I hope to God that we’re wrong.”
“Any follow-up from the U.S. Geological Survey yet, Bob?” Tim Byrd from Homeland Security asked Presidential scientific adviser Robert Laird.
“Yes, they’re getting reports from La Palma of increased seismic activity and growing volcanic gas emissions along the Cumbre Vieja ridge,” Laird replied, looking at his most recent report. “The island has issued an evacuation order for the towns in the vicinity of the active region. They have—”
“Mr. President,” James Robertson interrupted, “Turner’s phone — it’s finally ringing.”
25
The black Mercedes with the Bishamon symbol emblazoned on its side sat in the deserted parking lot behind the university’s antiquities building. A jubilant Robert Pencor was sitting behind the wheel.
Relishing in the death of the younger Turner and his associate, Pencor watched, with morbid fascination, the now smoldering remnants of the Raven-44 helicopter high on the barren slopes of Mt. Teide.
“I hope you enjoyed your ride, Turner,” he mused as the last of the wreckage’s smoke disappeared into the clouds that shrouded the long extinct volcano. The elder Turner and the woman will be found eventually and silenced as well, he thought confidently as he checked the ignition for the keys and saw they were not there. He leaned forward to feel under the seat for the keys, becoming irritated at this new annoyance. Suddenly, he was startled by a clinking sound coming from beside him.
“Looking for these, amigo?” an all too familiar voice asked in a mocking tone. Pencor turned his head sharply to the left to see a smiling Samuel Caberra dangling the car keys in one hand and pointing a 45-automatic at him with the other. “Slowly hand me your weapon,” Samuel ordered in a deadly serious tone. “Very slowly,” he repeated as the passenger side of the Mercedes opened to reveal Turner, who climbed in and smiled at Pencor.
“No, it can’t be!” Pencor raged. “You weren’t on the helicopter?”
“Sorry to inconvenience you, Pencor, but there was a last minute change of plans. From the looks of things, it was a damn good idea,” Turner said to the man, whose face was now turning the color of crimson, much to Turner’s pleasure. “Our friend here is definitely a candidate for anger management, Samuel, wouldn’t you say?” Turner said, as Yashiro walked up behind Samuel holding the pistol that was taken from the former driver of the Mercedes.