Pinnacle Event (31 page)

Etienne's eyes moistened, but he did not shed a tear. He again sipped the tea. “Let me tell you the dates and places.”

Nelson Hutamro copied down the information carefully, verified it again with Etienne, and then excused himself from his own office and walked down a row of desks to Mbali's secretary. “I need to talk with the Director now, wherever she is.”

 

43

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 14

HIGH SPEED COMPUTING CENTER

LAWRENCE LIVERMORE NATIONAL LABORATORY

LIVERMORE, CALIFORNIA

He saw the man coming toward him. “Don't start with me again,” Dugout said to the short, balding man in the lab coat. “You can have it back. I just need to terminate some searches and transfer some data to Fort Meade on the trunk line. Give me two hours and it's all yours to do whatever terribly important thing it is you do.”

“Professor Michael McFarland,” the man said offering his hand. “I model complex interactions with numerous permutations and high quantities of variables. I am overdue to get results to the White House Science Advisor on a climate change excursion. No other computing center can model this set of data in the time we have to finish. No other computing center can display the results with such high-definition graphics. They need visuals to understand things at the White House level, or so I'm told.”

“I'll have to remember that,” Dugout said, smiling. “Two hours.”

Professor McFarland nodded, turned around quickly, and hurried out of the Control Room. There was no thank-you. Dugout sat down and began closing out his programs, transferring data to NSA, whose computers would pick up the attempt to decrypt the documents on the Potgeiters' laptops. As he did, he noticed that one document had begun to open. It was an attachment on an e-mail and it was apparently sent using a different encryption algorithm than the Potgeiters had used on the documents on their hard drives.

The decryption program had actually cracked the header on the four pages of the document and it had made clear the word in the first column in what looked like a chart. The header bore only the word
USKORITEL
. Dugout assumed it was a Pentagon acronym, U.S. Korean Intelligence? But why would the letter N be missing? U.S. Korean International Telephony?

The first rows, were a series of numbers. The first was 9816. What followed were a few more entries with 8 as the recurring third number. 10816. 11816. Then there were other numbers beginning with 9s and 1s, and 6s in common. Then numbers with 1s, 0s, 1s and 6s. Across from each number was text that the decryption program had yet to break.

“Of course!” Dugout yelled out across the vacant room. “It's a fucking schedule.” Each number ended with 16, the year. It was the date in European format, with the day and then the month. “Shit,” he whispered. So the first number was really meant to be 08.09.16, August 9. “Damn, that was the day the nuclear detonation was detected in the Indian Ocean.” This had to be the schedule for whatever they were doing with the bombs. Whatever, maybe the Koreans, maybe the crazy North Koreans, were doing with the bombs? USKORITEL?

He quickly leafed through the four-page document to the end. The last number was 181116, or November 18. That was four days from now. There were no dates after that. He felt his stomach roll and his pulse race. Where the hell was Bowman?

UNITED NATIONS HEADQUARTERS

NEW YORK CITY

Bowman found a seat in the side gallery where he could look across at the witness table. At the table, Professor Victoria Kinder was reading from a prepared text while charts, graphs, and maps flashed on two large screens that Bowman could not see from where he sat. The screen facing his section was turned off.

Professor Kinder was very pleasant to look at, but very dull to listen to. She was going on in a monotone, her presentation filled with acronyms. The UN panel she was presenting to was, nonetheless, riveted by whatever it was she was saying.

“The Purpose Fund study on subglacial pooling cost fifty-five million dollars and received no outside or government funds. We used our own staff, ships, satellites, and aircraft. We submit the technical documentation here today, along with our Economic Effects Model documentation.

“The EEM program was the result of a six million dollar grant from the Purpose Fund two years ago. It allows for the econometric modeling of changed patterns of agronomy, riverine transportation, access to critical minerals and energy sources, and urban habitat under a variety of assumptions about what the next fifty years will look like.

“The EEM team was drawn from the faculties of the Wharton School, the Sloan School, Moscow State, Oxford, Zhejiang, and Wuhan universities. They are among the world's leading econometrics experts. What their work shows may be summarized in these few charts, although the extensive detail is being made available online now.”

Suddenly, the large flat screen facing Bowman's seating area came to life. The large font words on the screen insisted on their being read. “Global Flooding Creates Economic Collapse.”

Victoria Kinder continued reading her statement. “The resources that will likely be used on massive seawall projects and those needed to handle relocation of refugees will cause spending to slowly dry up in other areas such as those shown on the slide. In the United States, for example, countering sea level rise by walling off cities and relocating populations will cost more on an annual basis for decades than the total cost of all governmental activities does now, including state and local administration. The need for this expenditure will come as the tax base is shrinking rapidly. Already preliminary work is underway on new seawalls for New York, London, Petersburg, and Tokyo. The costs are enormous.”

The next slide was titled
LIKELY DEFUNDED PROGRAMS
and it listed: “Space Programs, Biomedical Research, Information Technology and Robotics, Defense Research and Major Weapons Systems Procurement, Arts and Humanities, Social Welfare Programs.”

“While our model does show some short-term winners, such as the construction industry and related activities, even these cease as financial markets and the tax base take major impacts and eventually collapse in some countries and globally.”

The screen now showed three curves, covering the period 2015–2100. All went down, but the one that went down fastest showed signs of upward movement at the end. “We ran six hundred and twenty-three scenarios and excursions, but the results in terms of global GDP clustered around three curves depending upon the rate of the flooding. The fastest and highest flooding models used the IPCC's new Worst Case Scenario. They show global economic depression by 2050. The other two show economic collapse in 2072 and 2086.”

There was a gasp in the hall, followed by murmuring as the audience reacted and spoke to those sitting with them. Almost everyone had a mobile device out and was sending off messages, texts, or tweets.

“Of note is that the Fast Case, collapse by 2050, begins to show some signs of recovery by 2075, although the growth is modest and does not end the depression in this century. The other two models show no significant recovery within the timeframe examined.

“The reason for the recovery in the Fast Case we believe is that the diversion of resources occurs over a shorter period of time prior to collapse. In this slide you see the diversion of resources in all three scenarios. In the other two scenarios, the diversion goes on over many decades, growing over time as the water levels rise. In the Fast Case, sea level rise happens so quickly that there is not the slow destruction of industries and institutions as funds dry up.”

The chairman of the panel interrupted with a question, in French. Throughout the hall people searched for their translation headsets and began switching the dials next to their seats, through Russian, Chinese, Spanish, to French. Bowman understood enough French that he left his headset alone. “Are you telling us that there is a silver lining to our Worst Case Scenario, that it means the global economic depression you predict will only last three decades? The Great Depression of the 1930s lasted less than one decade, correct?”

Victoria Kinder did not skip a beat. Indeed, she responded immediately and in French. “Yes, Mr. Chairman, you are correct on both counts. One reason is that the Fast Case causes a significant lowering of global population due to flood casualties and a subsequent general reduction in the birth rate, of the type that occurs in recessions and in a depression. Normally a population decline hurts the economy, but in this case it will reduce the burden on government services, allowing some money eventually to be spent on things other than disaster recovery.”

As the discussion went on, Bowman was planning his approach to Professor Kinder when the meeting was over. She did not look as he thought an economist should. Tall and well tailored, she appeared more like the chairman of the board of a major corporation or perhaps an executive editor of a fashion magazine. Confronting her was going to be interesting.

He read her biography on the New York University Web site: full professor of Economics at age thirty-eight, specialist in econometric modeling. Her doctorate was from MIT, her undergraduate degree from Penn. Another entry on Google noted that since her appointment, Kinder Industries had endowed five chairs at NYU and built a new building for the business school. No one, however, had suggested that the Kinder money had bought Victoria her appointment. The general impression was that she had earned it and it was Victoria herself who had obtained the grants from her father to help out her new academic home.

Then, a text message from Mbali interrupted his planning.

MUST MEET NOW. MOST URGENT
. She had been intending on using the secure telephone at the South African Mission to call her boss, the President of South Africa. Bowman wondered what he could have said on that call that made a meeting now most urgent.

Reluctantly, he texted back.
IN TEN MINUTES AT USUN.

Bowman stood and moved to the exit while the professor was continuing to answer questions from the panel. As he made his way through the vast lobby of the UN building, his iPhone vibrated again. He stopped as he moved out on to First Avenue and looked down to what he supposed was a follow-up message from Mbali. Instead, he found one from Dugout.
HOW FAST CAN YOU GET TO A SECURE FACILITY FOR A VIDEOCONFERENCE?

He texted back,
FIVE MINUTES. GOING TO USUN
and then he ran across the avenue before the traffic light changed.

USUN was the U.S. Mission to the United Nations, an ugly high-rise directly across the street from UN headquarters. It housed the State Department officers who represented the United States at the world body. It also had facilities for “Other Government Agencies.”

Using the pass Special Agent McKenna had given him, Bowman went to the twelfth floor and was directed to a secure conference room that had been set aside for his use.

Dugout was already up on screen. “I guess you were in the neighborhood. How was your flight to New York?”

“What's so urgent?” Ray replied. “I thought you were wrapping things up there.”

“I was, but then one of the documents we were crunching on started to yield up some text. You won't like it.”

Mbali entered the room, escorted by a security guard from the lobby. She was almost out of breath as she sat down next to Bowman, looking at the video screen. “Got here as fast as I could. I just got the intel dump from Marcus Stroh's trip to Comoros and Mayotte.”

“How?” Ray asked.

“Long story for later,” she said. “Point is he got what we sent him there for. A mystery plane whose comings and goings into Comoros match up for when the bombs would have been moved there from Madagascar and then, two months later, when the tritium would have moved from Pretoria.”

“I didn't find any record like that when I checked flights into Comoros,” Dugout interjected.

“Well, Marcus did. Did you just look at Moroni airport? He found these flights into another island in the Comoros, Anjouan. And there is more, the names of two ships that left Comoros a few days after the tritium heist, probably with the mated bombs.” She then read out the tail number of the aircraft, the dates of the flights, and the names of the ships, MV
Rothera
and MV
Nunatak.

“Dug, are you still online out there? Can you check the aviation databases first for that aircraft?” Ray asked.

“Right. I haven't given the computer center back yet. Let me run the aircraft. It's a C-130J, new model, registered in Cyprus to Archimedes Airlift, a cargo firm. Now, checking on ownership of the firm, various front companies in offshore islands. Running link analysis with other front companies. Bingo.”

“Don't tell me, it's owned by Polis Holdings,” Ray guessed.

“Correct and you get five hundred points and take the lead,” Dugout replied.

“Polis Holdings of Cyprus, which also owns Olympus Security of Mr. Rogozin,” Mbali added. “Now, how about the ships, Dugout?”

“Hang on a minute,” Dugout shot back, his voice rising. “This is all good and all that your guy found the flights I couldn't find because you told me the wrong airport, but I have something you have to hear right now.”

Ray Bowman knew that when Dugout said something was more important, it always was and it was also usually something that was not good news. “Okay, Duggie, okay. What did you decrypt?”

“On One document where they used an encryption that was easier to break. It's entitled something like U.S. Korea Itel and it lists dates for things. Still working on the things, but I got the dates. They begin with August ninth and have entries for the days you just gave for the C-130 flights. I think it's the timetable for the operation.”

“Nice work,” Ray said. “Does it tell us anything else?”