Storm Killer (20 page)

Dr. Rosen was a hawk when it came to application of science advancements as military weapons. He had taught at various colleges over the years, and finally chaired the Physics department at one of the major technical schools on the east coast. His department had run many experimental programs for the United States Army, Navy, and Air Force. He knew of at least eight major weapons systems that had come to fruition as a result of his department’s efforts. But Storm Killer had the potential of being the ultimate non-nuclear weapon. Whole armies could be wiped out by a larger version of Storm Killer. 

Rose now resumed with a discussion of the lack of immediate military options to bring down Storm Killer. “We know the Russians have aimed at least two multi-warhead missiles at Storm Killer. They have always thought of it as a weapons threat. We have no missiles of our own targeted at the station because we never thought of this scenario. We may have to ask the Russians to shoot it down. They’ve been monitoring the situation and have already started readying both missiles in case the Storm Killer beam continues toward them or one of their allies like Cuba.”

Dr. Rosen sighed as he thought,
it’s a shame that we must blow up the station. But what needs to be done, must to be done!
He was dragged back to the present moment by Rose’s question “Doctor Rosen? Are you with us? Don’t you agree with my summary?”

Rosen started. “Sorry, Rose. Sorry, Mr. President. I was deep in thought. Yes, I agree with your summary. We should approach the Russians at once and get them to launch their missiles immediately. We have less than forty minutes and it will take them at least a few minutes to launch and at least fifteen minutes for the missiles’ warheads to reach Storm Killer.” 

Rose objected. “I didn’t say we needed to blow it up. What I said was we may have to do that if we cannot regain control quickly. It would be very bad to destroy it at this time.”

The President twisted around in his chair to stare at Rose. “What possible good would it do not to destroy the thing right now?”

She replied, “If we do get control back, we can use Storm Killer to perform its original mission. Focus the beam back on Hurricane Edna’s eye wall and kill it. Or at least weaken it. We’ve currently got a category five storm only hours from the east coast. If Storm Killer is brought back online in time, it can weaken Edna enough so the east coast will only be hit by a normal hurricane and not the monster we’ve now created.”   

The President pondered his advisors’ statements. His brow knit as he weighed his decision. Either option would be a public relations nightmare.
Hell,
he thought,
the voters will rip me a new one, whichever way I go on this. 

One choice was to wait longer in hopes the skeleton crew still onboard could regain control of the station. If this did not happen in the next few minutes, Storm Killer’s heat ray would probably fry the Lincoln’s personnel and the civilian scientists on board instantaneously. And no telling how much more destruction and how many more deaths would occur. 

His other option was just as bad. Order the immediate destruction of Storm Killer and its remaining crewmembers. A five hundred billion dollar experiment totally destroyed, with nothing to show for it other than a run away hurricane. The voters would love that, too. And to go begging the Russians to blow it up would make the United States look pitifully weak to the watching world. 

Damn, I’m dead meat either way I go on this,
the President grumbled to himself. He tapped the table surface with his fingertips a few more moments, made his decision and ordered, “Rose, get the Russian President on the phone. I’ve got some quick begging to do. We’re going to blow it up. We can only hope the east coast can weather Edna in its monster form.”

Dr. Rosen remained silent and just sat and watched as Rose ran from the room to communications desk to initiate the call to the Russians. He glanced at the President and noted the man’s head was slowly shaking from side to side as if he was struggling internally to reverse his order.

Rose swept back into the situation room and announced, “Mr. President, the Russian president will be on the phone in two minutes. He’s aware of the Storm Killer situation in amazing detail. It’s almost as if he was sitting here listening to our briefings. I marvel at how much real time intelligence they are able to get from us.”  

The President said, “Okay. From this point on, we run the whole operation from here. I don’t want any communications through NASA. We will issue orders to the remaining crew on Storm Killer. Rose, call NASA and tell them they are to go silent until such time as we relinquish control back to them. Got it? We will provide direct orders to the appropriate senior staff on the station from this room.”

“Yes, sir. I will call them immediately.” She reached for her phone and began making the ordered call.  

Dr. Rosen stood up and apologized to the President, “Sir, I really must go to the toilet. I’ll only be a moment.” The President never said a word and just nodded his head. Dr. Rosen headed for the men’s room outside of the situation room door.

He entered the men’s room, a gleaming chrome and white tile domain with four stalls on one side and six urinals hung from the wall on the other side. He bent over and scanned under the stall doors for any feet. None.
Good!
He thought,
nobody here.
  

He moved quickly into the stall furthest from the entrance. He sat down on the toilet and pulled his I-phone from his pocket and pressed the 1 speed dial. It rang twice and a deep male voice with a southern twang could be heard, “What?” it enquired. 

Rosen looked at his watch, “It will be destroyed. The President is asking the Russians to launch as I speak with you. I will call again when I know the estimated time of destruction. Do not allow them to get control back! This will probably be all over in the next thirty minutes. Figure out how you two are getting off the station in time. I’d hate to lose my two brightest students. Please, be care---.”  

The voice at the other end cut him off, “Number two and I have already discussed getting off this thing. Remember to call when the countdown starts, I have to go!”

Rosen disconnected. He had one more call to make. He pulled a small address book from his pocket and looked up the number for the woman he had to contact. He dialed the number, and waited until she answered.

He said, “This is Dr. Rosen at the White House. The President just wanted me to pass on the following message.” He then read to her the message he had pre-written. “We would like that passed on to the Director, too. Can you please pass it on? Yes? Thank you. Remember you have our backing! Yes, thank you, again. Goodbye!”  

That should confuse the situation! He chuckled to himself. 

Tucking his phone away, he washed his hands and threw some water on his face, and scurried back to the Situation Room
.

“It’s almost over!”
he thought with immense pleasure as he re-entered the situation room and heard the President state into the speakerphone in front of him, “Vladimir? Dear friend, I must ask for your country’s immediate assistance.” 

Dr. Rosen’s heart rate skyrocketed as he heard the final piece of the Storm Killer plan snap into place.
Yes, it’s almost over. We’ve won!
He thought gloating as he listened to the President’s side of the phone call. 

43

Hoch looked at his watch as he walked toward the door of the bathroom where Francine Cruz was cleaning herself up. The Doctor, as a member of the senior staff, had a private bathroom. Everyone else of lower rank used a community unisex bath and toilet facility.

He opened the bathroom door and saw she was in the needle shower. The shower resembled an old steam cabinet. The individual would enter the box and sit down on its wire bench inside the machine. The cabinet door was closed around the neck of the individual and all that could be seen outside of the box was the person’s head. When activated, a series of small ‘needle’ streams of one hundred degree recycled water and body detergent would spray from all sides of the cabinet onto the person’s body. Ten minutes in the shower cabinet was as cleansing and refreshing as an hour-long standard shower Earth-side.

Francine twisted her head in the cabinet and angrily stared at Hoch. “Can’t I even shower without you watching me?”

“Doc, they’ve found your brother. He’s dead. We have to extract that chip he swallowed,” Hoch tersely replied.

Francine shuddered and began sobbing, “Rafael’s dead? No! It can’t be, tell me it isn’t true. My brother’s dead?” Francine opened the shower door, stumbled out, and slipped to the floor. Hoch grabbed the drying towel and threw it over her naked body. Hoch quickly walked to the sink and filled a plastic cup with cold water. He briskly strode over to where the doctor lay fainted and unceremoniously dumped the water over her face and head. A few seconds went by before Dr. Cruz shook her head from side to side, moaned, and hiccupped another sob.     

“Doc, get your ass up!” Hoch urged sharply as he grabbed her under the arms and lifted. “We’ve got ten, maybe fifteen, minutes to extract that chip from your brother’s stomach and get it back into the computer system!”

Francine slipped back to the floor and sobbed, “My God! You can’t expect me to open up my brother! I don’t care if we live or die, but you can’t and won’t make me do that to his body!”

Hoch stared at her for a moment as she cried for her dead brother. He lifted his phone from his belt and speed dialed Kim Danby. “Kim? Look, the doctor is in no condition or frame of mind to get that chip.”

Kim replied, “We’re running out of time. We have to get that chip, now!”

“Well, I guess you or Lt. James will have to open him up.” Hoch stated in a matter of fact manner. He heard Kim’s sharp intake of air as the meaning of his words registered with her. 

Hoch suggested, “Kim, put Lt. James on the phone. He can do it.”

Kim transferred the call from her phone to the lieutenant’s. She was about to put the phone away when it rang. “Hello?” She answered.

She listened to the caller, “Yes, I know who you are. – Yes, I understand. – This came from him? Okay, sure, I will. Thank you. Goodbye.”

She dialed a number and waited until it was picked up, “Hi, it’s Kim. Listen. I just got this message from the ground. I can’t give you a direct quote but here is the gist of it.” She explained what the caller had said. “That’s it, okay? – Yes, all of it. I don’t know! I’m just giving you his message. After all, he’s high up in the food change at the White House, so I thought you should know what he said. That’s all! I’ve got to go. Bye.”

Lt. James hadn’t noticed Kim’s call as other things had transpired while she was talking.    

Hoch looked to the doctor still sprawled on the floor crying heavily. He touched her with his foot to get her attention. When she looked up, Hoch said, “Look, Doc, Lt. James is going to open your brother up and get that chip. You can either tell him how to extract the chip so that the body isn’t terribly mutilated, or the lieutenant will just bumbled his way through it and leave your brother’s body a total mess. So which is it going to be?” 

The doctor continued to lie prone on the floor and shake her head. “No, no, my God no. Oh, Rafael, what has become of us, of me? I can’t let your body be further injured.” she thought.

Hoch, holding the phone to his ear, listened for several seconds, and replied with a few words. He looked hard at Francine and interrupted her thoughts with, “Last chance, Doc. Lt. James just came on the line and he’s going to do it. He says if you don’t help, he’ll just gut your brother like a pig at slaughter.” Actually Lt. James had only indicated he was on the line and would do the extraction. He was waiting for the doctor to walk him through the procedure. Hoch was playing the odds that he could shock the doctor into cooperation.

Francine started from her reveries shakily replied, “Okay, okay, you win. Give me the phone.” Her hand shook as she grasped the phone and she implored, “Lt. James? Please follow my instructions precisely. I must ask that you make every attempt to minimize damage to my brother’s body. I, I loved him and wish him some dignity in death. Please?”

Lt. James tersely concurred and then cut her off from any further conversation with a direct order, “Doctor, no more bullshit, tell me what to do!”

Francine took a few of deep breaths and began directing Lt. James through the relatively simply procedure.

“My brother said he had swallowed the chip wrapped in a chewing gum wrapper. The standard gum wrapper is foil with an external paper sleeve. The stomach’s hydrochloric acid will have eaten away the paper part of the wrapper, but the foil part should still be okay.”

Lt, James tersely replied, “Got it. Go on.”  

“Is your knife blade sharp?” Francine asked. “You’ll need to cut through soft tissue and then some heavy muscle. Any relatively sharp blade will do.” Lt. James was suddenly aware that he had nothing to cut with. He told the doctor to hold on a second. He told Kim that they needed a knife.

She rummaged through the closet’s stores and galley but found no knives other than a butter knife. They were stymied. 
What to do?
they both thought.