“True,” Wallis said. “Let’s get started. The mission shouldn’t be as dangerous as we thought. There were remote capabilities put into place at the plant that were never used. They’re gonna help us.”

  “Shall I explain?” Dr. Worley asked.

  “Yes, that would set the stage perfectly, and you’re the expert now,” Dr. Salay said.

  “Good,” Dr. Worley said. “In about 2002 we put remote controls on all of our plants, mainly to protect against terror attacks. We’ve never had to use them before now, and we’ve kept them secret for obvious reasons.”

  “So it’s possible that the enemy doesn’t know they can’t control the substances?” Jason asked.

  “I’d say it’s certain they don’t know,” Dr. Worley said. “Their actions tell us that.”

  “Are the valves already locked down?” Curt asked.

  “Yes, they are, including the underground valve to the MIC tank. They’d have to dig a very large hole to get to that one, through a lot of concrete. It would take heavy equipment that they cannot hide. We’d see it in the drone or satellite feeds.”

  “So even if they explode all the lines, there won’t be an incident?” Carrie asked.

  “There are only trace amounts in the exterior plumbing,” Dr. Hammond said. “We were able to pump everything in the lines back to the tanks.”

  “So it’s game over?” Dirk asked.

  “Almost,” Dr. Salay said. “They could dig down to the tank and plant explosives, but it’s not intuitive where the tank is, and there aren’t drawings at the plant which show that. You have to access that data from our central headquarters, and they don’t have the codes.”

  “Can they override the valve closures?” Chance asked.

  “No,” Dr. Worley said. “That was part of the security, and commands for that system can’t come from within that site. Even if they had the code, they’d have to make the request to the central facility, which is reviewed before it’s executed. We locked out that plant. No requests coming from there will be processed.”

  “Sounds pretty air tight. Maybe we should just bomb the site and be done with it.”

  “They’ve brought in human shields from town,” Gallagher said. “If we blow the place, they all die. We might have no choice if the plant was really a threat to the region, but it’s not.”

  “These folks aren’t stupid,” Curt said. “How do we know they haven’t figured this out? Maybe they’re drilling underground to that tank as we speak. Is there a covered spot they could tunnel in from?”

  “We don’t think so, based on their activity,” Dr. Salay said.

  “What activity?” Jason asked.

  “They’ve dug a huge pit, which they can fill from some new pipe they’ve welded on from one of the exposed valves. They plan to empty the MIC into the pit and explode it.”

  “Why would they do that rather than blow the tank?” Francis asked.

  “Here’s where we know they’ve studied MIC,” Dr. Hammond said. “If they were to blow the tanks underground, they’d only get about one-fifth of the spread compared to blowing it in an open pit. Maybe even less than a fifth, depending on how much of the five-foot thick concrete over the tank is removed.”

  Curt smiled. “So they’ve pointed the gun at our heads, and all they’ll hear is a click when they pull the trigger.”

  “That is a good analogy,” Dr. Hammond said.

  “Do you have sensors that will show us if they’ve gotten around your protections and are able to pump the material out?” Chance asked.

  “Yes, we can monitor tank levels,” Dr. Worley said.

  “If they’re smart enough to have figured that out, they’re smart enough to know they have to replace what they’re pumping out with something else,” Francis said.

  “That would be difficult for them,” Dr. Salay said. “We’d pick up a fluctuation, and it will set off alarms.”

  “What if they pumped in water to force the MIC out?” Francis asked.

  “The water would dilute the MIC,” Dr. Hammond said. “After what happened in Bhopal, all plants in the US that store the substance have multiple safeguards, even before what we added in 2002. MIC has to be pumped out. It can’t gravity feed, and the tanks don’t have a flush inlet to force the material out either.”

  Jason smiled. “Okay, so now we have a mission to rescue what civilians we can and destroy the enemy as they try to leave. Is that about the size of it.”

  “Yes,” Gallagher said. “We’ve seen signs that the site is being wired with explosives. They think there’s going to be a gulf regional event. If they detonate, it will be local only, but we’re talking over 13,000 citizens, assuming they haven’t already killed many of them.”

  “Where have they wired the explosives?” Curt asked.

  “The island that the plant is on,” Gallagher said. “They haven’t been working the section north of the channel yet, but we’ve seen them looking around there.”

  “They’ve got the roads blocked to keep the citizens in,” Wallis said. “So far that’s all we’re seeing, and we’ve got very good satellite pictures showing their roadblocks.”

  “They’ve cut Highway 288 where it goes over the north channel,” Dr. Salay said. “I’m still in contact with some of the people there.”

  Curt looked at the map on his iPad. “Have they gotten into the residential areas north of Highway 288?”

  “Nope, and we’ve been evacuating that area,” Gallagher said. “It’ll be a ghost town by the time we start our operation.”

  Jason was quiet, his brow furrowed.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” Carrie asked.

  “Yeah, and speak up, pencil neck,” Curt said.

  “I don’t trust this enemy. They might still have a nuke. If not, they might be rigging the area with dirty bombs. No way is this going to be as easy as we’re thinking.”

  “I agree,” Curt said. “This is reminding me of the Dallas Fairgrounds operation. We lost a lot of people in that one, including two of our principals.”

  “You think they’ll blow whatever they’ve got set up as soon as they realize we’re running an operation,” Gallagher said. “That’s a prudent concern.”

  “Do we really have to go in there?” Kitten asked. “What if we let them load up their transport ships and blow them out of the water when they leave?”

  Gallagher shook his head. “If we do that, we’ll lose a significant number of the 13,000 people they’re holding. Worse, they might pack a bunch of hostages onto those transport boats. We’ve seen some movement of civilians towards the docks already.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Dirk said. “That’s what they’ll do. We’re thinning their ranks enough that they’d never need all the space on those boats anyway.”

  “We need to send commandos in to disable the explosive charges,” Chance said. “It’s our only real chance.”

  “Yeah, if we just start moving people out of there, they’ll blow the place,” Curt said. “How much detail do we have on the charges they’ve already set up?”

  “Not enough,” Gallagher said.

  There was silence for a moment, everybody thinking. Ahmed raised his hand.

  “Go ahead,” Jason told him.

  “Do we have any intel on who is commanding the operations there?”

  Wallis nodded. “We can figure that out with some help from General Hogan’s team.”

  “How can they help?” Jason asked.

  “They can read the RFID payloads and bounce the id info against their database. What would we need?”

  “Names of the people and what their ranks are,” Ahmed said.

  “Yes, that would be enough, if we recognize any of the names,” Hassan said. “If the top-ranked people have names we know, that might help us to plan.”

  “I’m not getting this,” Dirk said.

  “If the leadership are part of the fanatical group, they’ll blow it and die,” Ahmed said.

  Gallagher’s face broke into a grin. “Oh, I get it. We do a commando raid and capture the leadership team. We’ll be able to find them using the high res app. If they’re among the more secular leadership of the enemy forces, they won’t be so quick to pull the trigger and kill themselves.”

  “Yes, the more educated they are, the less chance they’ll want to be martyred,” Hassan said. “You can take that to the bank.”

  “It’s possible we don’t know the leaders, though,” Ahmed said. “Maybe there’s some other intel that can help.”

  “I’ll get on the horn with General Hogan right after this meeting, Wallis said.

  “Good, thanks,” Jason said. “What’s the timing look like? Depends on what’s going on with the roads and the Brazos River, right?”

  “There’s more than one way to look at this,” Chance said. “We could run the Freeport operation soon, while there are still a multitude of enemy fighters on the way. That has the advantage of stopping the flow of fighters into Texas… but we might have already stopped that after the roadblock incidents and resulting release of enemy fighters on route from the Pennsylvania border.”

  “That’s what Governor Nelson is meeting about right now,” Wallis said. “I suspect we won’t have much of a flow from the east coast, but we still don’t know how many of their semi-trucks are already in Texas.”

  “Yeah,” Curt said. “I think I’d rather hold off for a while. Give the enemy fighters some time to commit to the Brazos corridor. The cleanup will be much easier, and we’ll have more time to collect intel and plan for the Freeport operation.”

  “You’re reading my mind,” Gallagher said. “I will send you guys a packet of data we’ve been working up with Dr. Salay’s team. It’s annotated satellite photos, mainly, but also some detailed photos of the site on the ground, from the Texas Chemical archives. Study those, and we’ll get together tomorrow for a round of questions.”

  “I like that idea,” Wallis said. “Just texted General Hogan about the RFID payload data. He replied. We’ll get a spreadsheet from him with all the payload data they can see with the detailed app. It’ll take them a few hours.”

  “Then we can sort that by rank and start looking at the names,” Hassan said. “Perfect.”

  “Let’s break now,” Gallagher said. “The data packet is on the way, and you’ll get the spreadsheet from General Hogan within a few hours. That’s plenty to chew on. Can we meet again tomorrow at this time?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jason said.

  The others in the room agreed.

  “Okay, we’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Gallagher said.

  “Thank you,” Dr. Salay said.

  The call ended.

  “Shall we stick around and look at that data package?” Curt asked. “We can port it to these big monitors.”

  “Let’s do it,” Jason said.

  {32}

  Tight Bends

  T he DPS patrol boats cruised up the Brazos, not seeing any sign of enemy fighters since the first battle.

  “What are we going to do at night?” Hannah asked.

  “That’s a good question,” Lee said. “Find an inlet that we can pull up into?”

  Brendan thought about it for a moment, then looked over at Hannah. “How far are we from Whiskey Bridge?”

  “The enemy has been moving south from there,” Hannah said. “Not quickly, but steadily.”

  “When did they start?” Lee asked. “Been too nervous to bury my face in my phone long enough. My old eyes don’t help.”

  “I saw them moving shortly after we heard about the battle in Hearne.”

  Brendan smiled. “Just as we expected. They might have been waiting for the guys we took out there.”

  “Yeah, or the guys who we stopped at the roadblocks,” Hannah said.

  “So same question,” Brendan said. “Where are they now?”

  Hannah looked up from her phone. “I’m working on it. They’re not near any towns or roads, so It’s hard to tell you exactly.”

  “Oh. Sorry, honey.”

  “They’re a few miles before the big knuckle-shaped curve by Allen Farm. I think they’re stopping for the night now, though.”

  Lee smiled. “Good. Maybe both sides will get some shut-eye.”

  Hannah smiled. “Hey, I see a good place.”

  “Where?” Brendan asked.

  “Where the Navasota River hits the Brazos,” she said.

  “The Navasota?” Lee asked. “I’ve fished on that one. It’s a muddy, shallow river. Maybe too shallow for these boats.”

  “We still have the trolling motors,” Brendan said.

  Lee grinned. “That’d probably do it.”

  “Shall I pass the word?” Hannah asked.

  “How much further?” Lee asked.

  “Hard to tell. An hour, maybe. We’re just about to the Highway 290 bridge.”

  “Yeah, pass the word,” Brendan said.

  “I’m really surprised we haven’t run into more of these guys,” Lee said.

  Brendan shook his head. “I’m not, because they can’t shield themselves while in canoes or walking the bank.”

  “Yeah, there was road access to the place where the battle happened,” Hannah said. “Text sent.”

  Lee smiled. “You’re right, of course. Any places with road access coming up?”

  “Duh,” Hannah quipped.

  Brendan shot her a questioning glance.

  “The Highway 290 bridge, remember?”

  “Oh, crap,” Brendan said. Lee’s expression changed, and he strained to look further forward. Hannah caught it.

  “Lee, look,” Hannah said, holding out her phone, showing the river. “We’re four curves away from being able to see the bridge.”

  “Yeah, they can’t be here yet,” Brendan said. “We’d see them on the apps.”

  “How far out do we have a view of the 290 bridge?” Lee asked.

  Hannah focused closer on her phone. “Looks like about four hundred yards.”

  “That’s within rifle range,” Lee said.

  Brendan nodded. “He’s right about that, for everything except their older AK-47s. Those have shitty sights.”

  Hannah continued looking at her phone for a moment.

  “You see something dangerous?” Lee asked.

  “Highway 6 runs into 290, not very far from the river.”

  Brendan looked back at her from the pilot’s seat. “That’s not so good. Lots of enemy activity on Highway 6.”

  “If there’s also been a lot of citizen activity on that road, we won’t have as much to worry about,” Lee said.

  “Text Richardson, to see if he’s heard anything about that stretch,” Brendan said, eyes back on the river ahead.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right,” Hannah said, typing the text as Lee kept watch. They rounded a bend.

  “Man, Brendan, these curves are sharp on this whole damn river,” Lee said.

  “You got that right.”

  Hannah’s phone dinged. She read it.

  “I’m not liking that look,” Brendan said.

  “There has been semi-truck traffic seen on Highway 6, north of 290.”

  “How far north?” Lee asked.

  “Not far enough.”

  “Shit,” Brendan said.

  “Some of the Fort Stockton team and an affiliated group are heading in that direction to check things out,” Hannah said. “They’re too far behind the enemy to get to 290 before we do.”

  “How far are we?” Lee asked.

  “Two more curves to go through.”

  “Be ready,” Brendan said. “Maybe it’s time to pocket the phone.”

  Hannah shook her head yes and slipped it into her jeans pocket, then put her hands onto the machine gun, ready for action. “We’re entering the next to last curve right here.”

  “Look at that beach,” Brendan said. “Stay sharp.”

  “It’s a big beach, but the little isthmus the curve forms is pretty remote,” Hannah said. “There’s no roads big enough for semi-trucks.”

  “Which means they can’t sneak,” Lee said. “Good.”

  “Wow, this is a big sweeper, and wide. I can speed up a little.”

  “Don’t,” Hannah said. “If anything, we should slow down to give the road operation more time to get here.”

  Brendan shot her a glance. “Will do.” He lowered the speed of the engines. Todd was behind them. He moved to the bow of his boat.

  “You doing that for a reason?” he shouted, pausing to spit tobacco.

  “Yeah,” Hannah shouted. “Possible enemy activity at the Highway 290 bridge. There’s a road team on the way. We need to slow down to let them get there before we arrive.”

  “Hey, man, stay behind the shields,” Lee said. “There could be snipers anywhere around here.”

  “No hits,” Todd shouted.

  “Somebody’s driving all the semis,” Lee shouted back.

  “Damn, you’re right,” Todd said, getting back behind the shield on the port gun.

  Brendan had the speed down to about eight miles per hour.

  “Hey, we’re almost slow enough to troll for bass,” Lee said.

  “That sounds so nice,” Brendan said. “Kicking back, trolling, drinking beer and shooting the shit.”

  “I’d like that. When this is over, we’ll do it.”

  “Damn straight,” Brendan said.

  “At this speed we won’t make it to the Navasota by dark,” Hannah said.

  They continued, the tension rising in the air as they entered the final curve.

  “This one is smaller,” Hannah said. “As soon as we come out of it we’ll see the bridge.”

  “If the enemy is there, they’re still in the semi-trailers,” Lee said.

  Brendan’s hands sweated around the wheel, his eyes peeled as he came around the last curve. “There, up ahead. I can barely see the bridge.”

  “Nobody around,” Lee said. “It’s elevated and flat on the east side. No good place to hide semis.”

  Hannah had her eyes peeled at the west bank. “Maybe they got across. Lots of cover over there.”

  “No place to get off the road and out of sight,” Brendan said, standing for a moment to crane his neck.

  “Keep your head behind that shield,” Hannah said.

 

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