Read Sacred Stone Page 23


  "What do we think the timetable is?" Ross asked.

  "We still think the plans call for a midnight New Year's Eve attack," Hanley said, "as a symbolic gesture."

  "Will we receive our actual assignments once we're in London?" Murphy asked.

  "Correct," Hanley said. "Mr. Cabrillo will be coordinating with MI5. They and Mr. Cabrillo will assign your actual duties as they unfold."

  Hanley's beeper vibrated, and he removed it from his belt and stared at the readout.

  "Okay, people," he said, "Mr. Truitt has arrived to take you into London. He's in front right now. Be sure and take the crates of supplies that Nixon has prepared along with you, they are stacked alongside the gangplank. Any other questions?"

  No one spoke.

  "Good luck, then," Hanley said.

  The six filed out and down the hallway.

  CABRILLO FINISHED BRIEFING Fleming then took a sip of tea.

  "The prime minister will have a problem keeping the public in the dark about this," Fleming admitted.

  "You know that if the Hammadi Group realizes that their cover is blown, they could detonate at any time," Cabrillo told him. "Our best chance is to try to make contact using our voice tape of Al-Khalifa, or simply to wait for them to move and follow them to the bomb, then defuse it."

  "We should cancel the concert," Fleming said. "That reduces the number of people in the area at least."

  "I think that will clue in the Hammadi Group," Cabrillo said.

  "We need to at least remove the royal family and the prime minister to safe locations," Fleming said.

  "If you can do it undetected," Cabrillo said, "by all means do."

  "Prince Charles is scheduled to announce Elton John before his performance, but he could plead sickness," Fleming said.

  "Use a decoy," Cabrillo offered.

  "If the plan is to hit the concert," Fleming said, "and the weapon is not already in place, then they have to deliver it to the site."

  "If you have teams covertly check all the areas near the concert with Geiger counters and no radiation is found, then we have to assume they are planning to deliver the warhead to the site by vehicle."

  "So we eliminate the areas near the concert, and if we find nothing," Fleming said slowly, "we just need to control the roads leading into the Mayfair and St. James areas."

  "Exactly," Cabrillo said. "The traffic is already horrible in the area. You just station trucks on the side streets that can be moved into place to seal off the roads. I don't think it will come to that. If we're correct and Lababiti is in control of the bomb, we know it is not in his Jaguar but it must be close. I think our only hope is to keep surveillance on him as thick as flies on a carcass. Then grab him when the time is right."

  "If we're wrong and he doesn't lead us to the bomb," Fleming said, "then our only hope to stop it is the ring around Mayfair and St. James."

  "If you place your trucks correctly, there isn't a car in the world that can make it through those streets."

  "But then will we have time to defuse the bomb?" Fleming asked.

  "The farther away from the concert we locate it, the more time we'll have. Make sure all your men have diagrams so they know what wires to cut in order to stop the timer from running through its cycle."

  "Lord," Fleming said, "if only we knew exactly where the bomb was."

  "If we did," Cabrillo said, "this would be a hell of a lot easier."

  Chapter 40

  OVERHOLT WAS BRIEFING his commander in chief.

  "So that's where we are, Mr. President," Overholt said early on New Year's Eve morning.

  "And you offered the British any help we might have?" the president asked.

  "Absolutely," Overholt said. "Fleming, who heads MI5, said there's nothing we can do at this point other than have a couple of our nuclear experts from Mindenhall Air Base on standby."

  "And you did that, of course," the president said.

  "The U.S. Air Force helicoptered them down an hour ago," Overholt said. "They are in London now and should be linking up with the Corporation and MI5."

  "What else can we do?"

  "I have contacted the Pentagon," Overholt said. "They are preparing relief and medical supplies if it goes badly."

  "I've ordered all nonessential personnel evacuated from the embassy in London," the president said. "There were only a few because of the holiday."

  "I don't know what else we can do," Overholt said, "but pray for a positive outcome."

  ACROSS THE POND, Fleming was briefing the prime minister.

  "That's the latest," he finished. "We need to evacuate you and your family as soon as possible."

  "I'm not one to run from a fight," the prime minister said. "Evacuate my family, but I'm staying. If it goes bad, I can't let my countrymen die when I knew of the threat."

  The debate raged for the next few minutes as Fleming pleaded for the prime minister to allow himself to be taken to safety. The prime minister held firm to his decision.

  "Sir," Fleming finished, "you becoming a martyr cannot help in any way."

  "True," the prime minister said slowly, "but stay I will."

  "At least allow us to take you to the bunkers under the Ministry of Defence," Fleming pleaded. "They are case-hardened and have fresh air generators."

  The prime minister rose. The meeting had ended.

  "I'll be at the concert," the prime minister said. "Arrange the security."

  "Yes, sir," Fleming said, rising and heading for the door.

  OUTSIDE THE APARTMENT on the side street bordering the Strand, four parabolic microphones were hidden on nearby buildings and directed at the windows of Lababiti's residence. The dishes picked up vibrations on the glass of the windows and magnified the sounds until everything inside the apartment could be heard as clearly as a high-definition recording.

  A dozen MI5 agents were posing as London cab drivers and patrolled the streets nearby, while others walked the street staring into shop windows and eating in restaurants. At the hotel directly across the street from the apartment, agents sat in the lobby reading newspapers, waiting for something to happen.

  TRUITT STOOD UP from his seat near the driver as the bus came to a stop in front of the Savoy. He had called Cabrillo from his cell phone, and Meadows and Seng were waiting in front of the lobby doors. Truitt filed off the bus, followed by the rest of the team, and walked toward the lobby doors.

  "We're supposed to meet in Cabrillo's suite," Meadows said, opening the door.

  As the team filed past, Seng handed each a room key. A few minutes later they were all crowded into Cabrillo's suite. Once they all found seats, he spoke.

  "MI5 has decided that there will be no attempt to intercept the device until there is movement," he said. "We will be working a support role in the off chance the weapon somehow makes it close to the area of the concert."

  "What's the status of the principal right now?" Murphy asked.

  "We have listening devices trained on the apartment," Cabrillo answered, "and right now they are sleeping."

  "What exactly will we be doing?" Linda Ross asked.

  "Each of you is trained in disabling the device, so you will be placed along the possible routes into the area of the concert. We will wait there in case we're called upon."

  Cabrillo walked over to a cork bulletin board on an easel. A large map of London was tacked on the board and a series of lines had been highlighted with a yellow marker.

  "Based on where the apartment is located, these are the highest probability routes," Cabrillo said. "We believe that, wherever the bomb is now, whoever has it will stop by and pick up Lababiti and the other man so they can place the nuke at the concert together."

  "You believe that they're going to hide the device, then set the timer and escape?" Kasim asked.

  "That's what we're hoping," Cabrillo admitted. "This type of device has a fail-safe switch that requires ten minutes from arming to detonation to avoid unwanted explosions."

  "So
you can't just flip the switch and start the fission process?" Julia Huxley asked.

  "No," Cabrillo said, "the Russian devices are similar to ours in that respect—they require a series of steps before the device is operational. The one we believe they purchased is a 'baby bomb' designed for targeted destruction. The entire device could fit in a crate five feet long by three feet wide by three feet deep."

  "What's the weight?" Franklin Lincoln asked.

  "Under four hundred pounds."

  "So we know they can't carry it or transport it by something like a bicycle," Pete Jones said.

  "They'll need some type of vehicle," Cabrillo said, "so that means they'll need to travel over the roads."

  Cabrillo pointed to the apartment on the map.

  "From the apartment," he said, "there are a couple of routes they might take. The first is right behind us. Turn off the strand down Savoy Street toward the Thames and turn on Victoria Embankment heading south. Once on Victoria Embankment, they have several choices. Turn at Northumberland Avenue then head down the Mall, or they could continue on to Bridge Street and Great George Street, then drive down Birdcage Walk. The second possibility is for the driver to head straight down the Strand to the Mall, but that takes him through the Charing Cross section as well as Trafalgar Square, where the traffic is usually very heavy. Thirdly, they have a variety of side streets they could cut across and piece together a route that, while not as direct, would be harder to follow. At this point we're really just guessing."

  "What's your gut feeling, boss?" Truitt asked.

  "I don't think they are trucking the bomb in from some other part of London," Cabrillo said quietly. "I think it's close to Lababiti right now. The starting point has to be the apartment, or somewhere very near, and if I was the driver I'd want to get it over as quickly as possible and try to escape the primary blast zone. I'd drive down Victoria Embankment, make my way to the park where the concert is being held, then initiate the firing sequence and make my escape while watching the time. At nine minutes I'd be looking for a sturdy building to hide inside."

  "How far does the primary blast zone extend?" Truitt asked.

  Cabrillo took the highlighter and made a circle. At the north end was the A40 and Paddington, at the south end was Chelsea almost to the Thames. The eastern border was Piccadilly Circus, the west was the far edges of Kensington and Notting Hill.

  "Everything inside this circle will cease to exist completely. One mile diameter outside the circle, including most of the British government offices, will be heavily damaged, and in a circle five miles from the center of the blast, buildings will be damaged and the radiation fallout heavy."

  Everyone stared at the map.

  "That's almost all of London," Murphy said finally.

  Cabrillo simply nodded.

  "And we'll all be toast as well," Huxley, the medical officer, noted.

  "Is that a medical term," Jones said, "toast?"

  LARRY KING WALKED out to where Adams had set down in a field near the Oregon. Ducking under the spinning rotor blade, he opened the rear door of the Robinson R-44, slid his cased rifle in the rear and several boxes in back, then closed the door, opened the front, and climbed into the passenger seat. Slipping on a headset, he closed the door and locked it before speaking.

  "Morning, George," he said laconically.

  "Larry," Adams said, pulling up on the collective and lifting the Robinson from the ground, "how's it going?"

  Adams pushed the cyclic forward and initiated forward flight.

  "Good day for hunting," King said as he stared out the side window at the scenery.

  Hanley had arranged for them to station the helicopter on top of a bank that was closed for the holidays. The helipad on the top was used by courier helicopters that made nighttime pickups and deliveries during the week.

  But first they had a delivery to make to Battersea Park.

  MEADOWS, SENG AND Truitt sat in the borrowed Range Rover and scanned the sky. As soon as the Robinson appeared, Meadows turned in his seat and spoke to Truitt.

  "Your Majesty," he said, "your face has arrived."

  Substituting Truitt for Prince Charles had been Cabrillo's idea, and Fleming had gone along. In the first place, the Magic Shop on the Oregon had the capability to produce a latex mask that exactly matched Prince Charles's features, and could make it fit any member of the Corporation team using the computer scans of their faces that Nixon already had stored. In the second, Cabrillo wanted a steady hand in the role and he knew that Truitt was as unflappable as they came. In the third, of all the men in the Corporation, Truitt most closely matched the heir to the throne in physical size and stature.

  "Well then," Truitt said, "why don't one of you commoners retrieve it—it's damp and cold out there and I'm quite warm inside here."

  Meadows laughed and opened the door. He ran over to the helicopter as it set down and took the box containing the mask from King. He walked back to the Range Rover and turned and watched as Adams lifted off again.

  ADAMS CROSSED THE Thames again then flew north a little into Westminster. There, just off Palace Street, he found the bank and set down on the roof. Once the rotor blade had stopped spinning, King climbed out and walked over to the edge and peered over the waist-high wall sur­rounding the roof. Just in the distance to the northwest he could see Buckingham Palace Garden and Hyde Park to the north. Vendors were already setting up for the evening concert.

  The large truck from Ben & Jerry's ice cream did not hold much appeal, but the Starbucks display did. King walked back to the Robinson and smiled at Adams.

  "There's food, bottles of water, soda, and thermoses of coffee prepared by the dining room in one of those packages," he said, motioning to the rear seat, "and I bought a pile of books and current magazines and put them in the other."

  "How long you figure we'll wait?" Adams asked.

  King stared at his watch. It was 10 a.m. "The most it will be is fourteen hours," he said, "let's hope they find it sooner."

  BACK AT THE Savoy, the team was dressing in the clothes Truitt had purchased. One by one they filed back into Cabrillo's suite for their assignments. Each of them had high-powered microradios with earpieces to communicate. The send units were strapped across their necks near their voice boxes. To talk they simply touched their finger to their throat and spoke. Each person could then hear what they said.

  The three two-person teams would form a half circle around Green Park with the closed part nearest the strand and the open part facing Green and St. James's Parks.

  Farthest to the northwest, Kasim and Ross would take up station on Piccadilly between Dover and Berkley Streets. They left the Savoy and were taken to the area by a driver from MI5. Next, in the center of the semicircle, were Jones and Huxley. They were assigned a position directly across the street from Trafalgar Square, near the Charing Cross subway station. If the bomb traveled straight down the Strand, it would pass right by them. The last team, Murphy and Lincoln, were assigned to the area in front of the War Cabinet Room on Great George Street and Horse Guards Road. If the bomb came along the Victoria Embankment, they would intercept. Depending on where they would stand, they could have a clear shot across St. James's Park.

  Since they had the only clear shot, Murphy had a bag full of small handheld missiles, rifles and smoke grenades. The other teams were armed with handguns, knives and sharp spikes to toss on the road and flatten any vehicle's tires.

  Cabrillo would stay close to the apartment. Along with him, the street was swarming with agents from MIS. Morning became afternoon and still no movement.

  Chapter 41

  LABABITI WAS A rake and a cad but he was also a highly trained terrorist. Today was the most critical day, and he was leaving nothing to chance. Waking Amad in early afternoon, he slipped his hand across the Yemeni's mouth and then held up a slip of paper. It read No speaking from here on, communicate in writing only, in Arabic. Amad nodded and sat up in bed.

  Taking a pad of
paper and a pen from Lababiti, he scratched out a message.

  Are the infidels listening?

  We never know, Lababiti wrote.

  For the next few hours the two men communicated by notes. Lababiti laid out the plan. Amad made sure he understood the mission. Darkness had fallen over London before they were finished. Lababiti's last note was succinct.

  I have to leave soon—you know where the sword of Allah is located and what to do with it—best wishes on your journey.

  Amad swallowed and nodded. His hands were shaking when Lababiti handed him a glass of Araq to calm his nerves. It was only a few minutes later when Cabrillo decided to finally use Al-Khalifa's telephone to call the apartment. But by then the two had taken the vow of silence. The telephone rang four times until it was picked up by the answering machine. Cabrillo chose to leave no message.

  The Corporation's much-vaunted ace-in-the-hole turned out to be of zero value.

  "THERE'S MOVEMENT," ONE of the MI5 men assigned to monitor the parabolic microphones said over the radio.

  The time was just before 9 p.m., and a light snow had started falling in London. The temperature was just at the freezing point, and the snow was not sticking to the roads, merely wetting them. If the temperature dropped any more, they would become an icy mess. The buildings were becoming lightly shrouded and puffs of steam escaped from the numerous roof vents. The remaining Christmas decorations in the windows added a festive nature to the scene, and the streets were crowded with holiday partiers.

  Except for the fact that a nuclear weapon was nearby, it was tranquil.