Category Five (19 page)

Lauren nodded in agreement at the grim projections.

“Millions will lose their homes and livelihoods. The White House says the long-term economic damage is off the chart. This disaster is being compared with a nuclear detonation over New York City. In their words, it's unacceptable.”

“Tell them to get used to it. Helena is coming,” Lauren said, forcefully. She held up the clipboard Brent had given her. “And faster than we thought.”

He nodded and removed his glasses. He fidgeted in his seat.

“What's up, Calvin?” Lauren asked, quietly. She'd known him a long time and only on rare occasions had she seen him stall.

“Your security clearance has just been upgraded. What I have to tell you is for your ears only. It will not, I repeat, not be shared with anyone. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.” Lauren ignored the small chill that ran up and down her spine.

“There's something the Pentagon and the White House are considering. Seems a few years back, a bright young graduate student at MIT proposed a bold plan to alter the size and energy of a hurricane.”

Lauren physically jumped in her seat. With a sinking feeling, she knew Calvin was talking about her.

“You remember, I take it?”

“Calvin.” Lauren's body went numb. “I wrote that paper as a joke. I was sick and tired of studying hurricanes. I'd had it up to my eyeballs about their formation and structure. One night, I decided to just blow the damn thing up. I did it as a lark. My professor got a kick out of it and it was over. It was never intended to leave the classroom!”

“He got a kick out of it, all right. He forwarded it to the Pentagon. The operation is called ‘Thor's Hammer'.”

“Oh no.” Lauren heard her voice waver. “They can't. It's not a reality; it's a joke. I used all sorts of imaginary principles, starting with a bomb big enough to have an effect. This is crazy!”

“According to what Montori told me, a lot of people have honed your theory over the years. They're convinced your original concept still holds up. The detonation of a high-yield nuclear device in the eye of a hurricane will alter the dynamics to the point the storm begins to fall in on itself.”

“Calvin.” Lauren leaned forward and used her hands for emphasis. “It would take a nuclear bomb in the 100-125 megaton class to even put a dent in Helena.”

“It's being transported from storage to an Air Force base in Texas as we speak. It's 115 megatons. They're modifying a B-1 bomber to carry the device.”

Lauren jumped to her feet. “Never in my wildest dreams did I intend for my stupid little paper to become someone's plan!”

“From what I've been told, it's a brilliant theory.”

Lauren's hands went to her temples as she processed the information. She began to pace back and forth behind her chair. “Calvin, the bomb that destroyed Hiroshima was a measly fifteen kilotons. You're telling me that they have a device eight-thousand times bigger lying around to use on Helena?”

“It was built years ago…for this purpose. They wanted to use it on Andrew, but as that storm formed over the Caribbean, they
couldn't get a clean shot before it hit Florida. Helena is out over the open Atlantic. It's the perfect opportunity, as outlined in your original hypothesis.”

“Oh, screw my hypothesis!” Lauren stopped pacing and steadied herself. “I'm sorry Calvin, but my God! I feel like someone read my diary and plastered it up on a billboard. We can't go around and nuke every bit of bad weather we find on the planet. This is the most irresponsible act I've ever heard of. Helena is already a product of our own doing. I truly believe that we're moving toward a major climatic shift due to a dozen factors, not the least of which is global warming. Have they learned nothing from witnessing our past errors?”

“You're preaching to the choir, Lauren.” Calvin removed his glasses and inspected them against the light. “Forget for a moment that this was your brainchild. I can tell you that you will in no way be named as the author of the plan. I saw to that. But our—my question to you is…will it work?”

Lauren studied Calvin. He was dead serious. Any moral reservations she might have were insignificant. At that moment she knew that the government, despite any of her reservations, was going to try to blow up Helena. She took a deep breath, put both hands on the back of the chair, and tried to collect her thoughts. Slowly, she weighed her objections against the devastation of New York City, of the horrific damage estimates she'd heard.

“They have their experts,” Lauren said, softly. “Ask them.”

“I'm asking you.” Calvin finished cleaning his wire-rim glasses and slid them on his nose.

“Why?” Lauren knew Calvin was fishing.

“They have the device. You have the knowledge of hurricanes. Plus, we have
Jonah
. The exact placement and altitude of the air-burst within the storm is still being debated.”

“You're kidding me.” Lauren cocked her head and despite her anger she could feel the scientist in her begin to take over.
Analytical thought began to override her emotional reluctance. The physics of both the hurricane and the detonation began to race through her mind.

“They'll be delivering the weapon from very high altitude,” Calvin continued. “The B-1 bomber will need some base line upper wind information to place the device exactly where it needs to be. That's where you come in. You and
Jonah
.”

“How ‘clean' is this bomb?” Lauren asked, wanting to delay her participation. Part of her wanted to put as much distance from the operation as she could. But, another part of her wondered if they would get it right if she didn't help.

“It's a hydrogen bomb, of course. It's ninety-seven percent fusion. I'm told what little radiation there is will be sent high into the stratosphere.”

Lauren nodded in agreement. “At least they got that part right.”

“Would you please sit down and discuss this rationally?” Calvin gestured toward a chair. “I know you're not thrilled with this; I'm not sure I am either. But it's what we're faced with. I'm asking for your help. You, as a professional.”

“I'd feel better if you made it an order,” Lauren remarked, anger and exasperation in her voice.

“Fine. It's an order.”

Lauren nodded. The small victory helped soothe her conflicted emotions. She continued to pace, far too agitated to sit still.

“My original theory speculated that the device be detonated near the strongest point of the eye-wall. In Helena, as with most hurricanes in this hemisphere, the southeastern quadrant of the rotating storm is the most intense. You don't want to allow the bomb to actually enter the storm itself. The up and down drafts will disrupt the trajectory. It's important to maintain the drop in the relative calm of the eye itself.”

“Go on.” Calvin began taking notes.

“The initial blast will reach a temperature close to a million degrees centigrade, which is 10,000 times hotter than the surface of the sun. Everything it touches will be instantly vaporized in the expanding high-pressure gas bubble. As you know, the internal mechanism of a hurricane is relatively fragile, a delicate balance of temperature, winds, and pressure. The shock wave from the explosion expands outward at 100 times the speed of sound. The engine, or eye-wall of the hurricane, is gone in the blink of an eye. The severe low pressure is replaced with what we call an over-pressure event. It becomes a storm without a way to build or even sustain itself. In layman's terms, we're gutting Helena. In a flash of energy and light, Helena will die and all that will remain will be a disintegrating tropical storm mass.

“So you have no doubt it will work?” Calvin stopped writing and looked up. “This bomb is big enough to gut the storm.”

“I have lots of doubts. It will definitely alter Helena as we know it. But there is another danger. One I didn't include in my paper.”

Calvin looked at her expectantly.

“Imagine this.” Lauren hesitated as she tried to recall the details. “As the bomb detonates, tons of water vapor will be pulled up into the gigantic mushroom cloud. Keep in mind, this bomb is twice as big as any ever set off. The surrounding water has been superheated from the fireball. If the force of the initial shock wave isn't powerful enough to eliminate the rotation of the hurricane, then what we could create is a smaller, more intense storm center than we had before.”

Calvin furrowed his brow.

Using her hands, Lauren continued: “Picture a mushroom cloud, except it's spinning. The heated water is now doing what it was doing before, except the ocean is near boiling. That energy could re-form into an incredibly intense storm. Smaller, yet its power could be off the scale. It could create some kind of mutant event. A hybrid storm—part hurricane, part tornado. It could have winds over 500 mph.”

“No one said a thing about this possibility.” Calvin shook his head in dismay. “What are the odds we could be jumping from the frying pan into the fire?”

Lauren shrugged, “Maybe fifteen to twenty percent. No one really knows.”

“God damn it!” Calvin pulled himself up out of the chair and walked to his desk.

Lauren watched as he tossed his pen down and glared at the phone. She wondered what was going through his mind. It surprised her that no one had mentioned the potentially negative side effect of the operation.

“I'm going to pass along what you've told me,” Calvin said wearily. “But to tell you the truth, I don't think it will make much of a difference. The key question here is the exact detonation point within the storm. That's what they want from us.”

“I don't know,” Lauren said, honestly. “It will all depend on the data we receive from
Jonah
, as well as information about the high altitude winds. If we could determine both within a few hours of when they want to set it off, it'll give us the best chance to get it right.”

Calvin nodded. “They've set 250 miles as the minimum distance from the coast. How soon will Helena reach that point?”

Lauren picked a number off the top of her head. “I'd say sometime tomorrow, maybe around noon or so.”

“You're scheduled to go out on the Eco-Watch jet tomorrow, right?”

“Yes. We're going to test some equipment that should allow us to interface high altitude information from the Gulfstream, with data from
Jonah
. But with the same information, it would be easy for us to calculate the exact drop coordinates.”

“Can you do that without any of your team being aware of what you're doing? We don't want anyone to know about this until afterward.”

“What about the rest of the world? We aren't going to start a war by setting off an H-bomb, are we?”

“No. The president has spoken with the other nuclear-capable countries. To be honest, everyone is just as curious as we are if this will work.”

“My God. What have I done?”

“It's not you, Lauren; someone else would have thought of this at some point. Focus on the devastation Helena is going to inflict on New York City. I'm told the emergency management teams are having trouble getting people to evacuate the shore areas. Millions of New Yorkers refuse to believe this storm will harm them. It's going to be a slaughter.”

Lauren felt defeated. She'd read countless papers on the psychological impact impending weather phenomena had on people. Denial was still the major reason people were killed in the path of severe weather. The section of the coast that was most vulnerable was an area that rarely saw deadly storms. The denial factor would be especially high. The loss of life could indeed be staggering.

“I want you to take the rest of the day off. It's important for you to be sharp in the morning. Who among your staff will be going with you?”

“I think Dr. Simmons and I could handle all the telemetry readings.”

“I'd like you to take Brent Whitaker. He's as good with the computer models as anyone. It might be good to have him along.”

“Fine. He's been wanting some field duty.”

“Inform them. I'm going to double check with Eco-Watch that the equipment is ready to go. What time do you want to be airborne?”

“Make it an 0830 takeoff. We can get our readings and get out of there. I'd like to be back here before they do it…I want to watch it in real time from here in the lab.”

“Consider it done.” Calvin moved to escort Lauren to the door. “Now get some rest.”

Lauren nodded.

“Now go—and not a word to anyone about what we discussed. Try to relax. If I need you I'll reach you on your cell phone. Otherwise I don't want to hear from you until we're linked up in the morning from the Eco-Watch plane.”

Lauren nodded and let herself out of the room. She resisted the temptation to slip into the control room and look at Helena. Instead, she went to her office and collected her things. She quickly called Carl and Brent to tell them about tomorrow's mission. Once she was finished she left the building. To the meteorologist in her, the muggy air outside spoke volumes about the coming storm—a storm that one way or the other was going to rewrite the history books. She tried to push her own historical footnote from her mind. What she really wanted right now was to go home.

As Lauren negotiated the heavy traffic on I-95, she couldn't shake the odd sensation of knowing that Helena would cease to exist tomorrow, or at least cease as they knew it. Lauren was so engrossed in her thoughts that she was mildly surprised at how quick the drive home had been. She pulled up in her driveway and shut off the car. It wasn't until she'd opened the door and slid out into the muggy afternoon that she realized another car had pulled up behind hers.

Terrified, Lauren instantly thought of the attempt on her life in Bermuda. She thought about bolting for the safety of the house, but instead froze, not wanting to lead anyone in to where her Mother and Abigail waited. Lauren held her breath as a young woman got out and walked toward her.