Go Out With A Bang! (19 page)

Frank
shook his head. 'They would do that to people, to
children?'

'This is
why I'm trying to stop them,' said Sandra.

Ferret
said, 'I can't stress the devastation and death this will
cause.'

'No
doubt followed by World War three,' said Sandra.

After a
reflective moment, Frank asked,'How big would the vehicle have to
be to carry all that?'

Ferret
said, 'Surprisingly, not as big as we might think. The missiles
have their own propulsion system. The schematics show a flatbed
pickup truck. Here's a printout. The launcher has a total length of
eight feet. It's on a hydraulic pivoting lifting platform for the
trajectory. The whole thing is computerised. The missiles have a
diameter of thirteen inches and is about six feet in length. This
doesn't seem to be a weapon of mass destruction as being capable of
killing hundreds of thousands. Just to kill the inhabitants of the
conference centre and anyone unfortunate to be in the immediate
vicinity up to several miles. Possibly a few thousand.'

'It's a
nightmare,' said Steve. 'You two have done a phenomenal
job.'

'Like I
said before,' said Ferret. 'We are still working through it, but I
expect that for a successful strike, factors are keyed into the
launcher like distance, land elevation, building height and wind
speed and direction. Once that's in, they press the buttons and
fire the missiles. There's a purpose built space under the launcher
for storage of the missiles.'

Frank
said,'This is ridiculous. We have to warn everyone to get out of
the conference centre. Evacuate the city.'

'The
problem with that,' said Sandra, 'is that the terrorist's will be
watching their every move. They see a mass exodus, boom. If not
then and there, then some other place, some other time. We have to
track them down and stop them before they have the chance to
attack.'

Frank
said, 'But at least all those in the city will have a chance to get
away if we warn them. The terrorist's could be about to fire the
missiles this very minute. How can we live with ourselves if the
missiles are launched and we could have got people out of harms
way? I hope you can live with that, because I don't think I
can.'

'On the
other hand,' said Sandra, 'if we try to evacuate the entire city,
and that spooks the terrorist's into firing the missiles anyway,
and we had a chance to track them down before that happened, how do
we live with ourselves then, Frank? Why don't we put it to the
vote?'

'We'll
vote on it,' said Steve. 'I'm with Sandra.'

One by
one they voted, leaving Sandra and Frank to last.

'You
know how I feel,' said Sandra. 'Frank. Say no, It's five each. A
stalemate. Please. Give me your support.'

They all
looked at Frank who was wrestling with one of the biggest decisions
of his life. 'Okay. I'll support you, Sandra. I just hope to God we
are doing the right thing.'

'So do
I, Frank,' said Sandra. 'Thank you.'

Steve
said, 'Great. And all we have to do is to find the launcher. And
the conference starts tomorrow evening.'

Chapter 61

Prime
Minister Sinclair Carlisle mingled with the other political
leaders. The conference centre was knee deep in security agents. It
was ridiculous and he told Paul Rose as much. 'I want all of them
out of here.'

'I
suppose one hundred and ninety six agents in the same room are a
little overwhelming. Does that include me?'

'Yes.
And again, yes. All I can think is, thank God Chrissie isn't here.
She'd be freaking out.'

'She
does have a security agent phobia.'

'I'm
beginning to develop one. Look. Rosy. We aren't all exactly going
out on the town on a pub crawl. Hey. Not a bad idea. Can we go out
and have a pub crawl?'

'Would
you prefer a serious response to that question, or a sarcastic
one?'

'You
know something, Rosy? I once had a really strange idea. I become
Prime Minister, I can do what the hell I want to do. I got a whole
bunch of pals here, and I can't go on a bloody pub crawl in my own
city? See something wrong with this picture?'

'I
suppose you could stop being prime minister and go on the town with
your pals.'

'Remind
me. How many times have I fired you this year?'

'Seventeen.'

'Can't
you take a hint?'

'No. And
you poor slobs are going to have to slum it with Micheline standard
food and the finest booze, all paid for by the tax payer. So guess
what?'

'We're
all staying in here?'

'Finally.'

'You're
fired.'

'Whatever.'

Rose
rounded up the agents, and although some looked concerned at the
request to leave the room, they all eventually left.

'Thank
goodness for that,' said Randolph Milliner, President of the United
States of America. 'I can breathe again.'

The
German Prime Minister Franz Grober agreed. 'Agents. I see them from
the moment I open my eyes to the second I go to bed. The minute I
start dreaming about them, I'm retiring.'

With the
agents gone, they could relax. One or two even loosened their ties.
Even the waiting staff were happier, being able to do their jobs
without being jostled by the agents. It was an informal evening,
with very little business discussed. They all knew what was all
about. The event was a showcase. The world was in an economic
straight-jacket, millions thrown out of work; austerity regimes
driving things to new lows and the Japanese out on a limb spending
up big time with trillions of yen, trying to stimulate their
economy.

Most had
little idea on how to get back on track. The intention was to show
the world they cared and shared their pain. But that evening was
all about chatting and getting over any jet lag.

Milliner
said, 'at last I can relax a little. I'd have loved to have seen
the sights, though, Sinclair.'

'I can
only apologize, Randy. I did actually suggest a pub crawl, but
apparently I'd have to resign first. Seriously, on a one by one
basis, we could cope. Protecting ten of us in these troubled times
would be a logistical nightmare. You are all more than welcome to
come back again and I will personally make sure you have a great
time.'

'At
least we get a break from our partners,' said Grober. 'Love her to
bits, but a few drinks with you boys is a real treat.'

'I'm
with you on that one,' said Milliner.

Carlisle
suggested, 'Let's not over indulge tonight, though. We have the
media in here in the morning, so no bloodshot eyes, eh?'

Grober
sighed. 'Pity we have to spoil it by doing work.'

'I'm
sure we'll survive,' said Carlisle.

Chapter 62

'I'm
just glad everyone agreed to stay with me and Ferret.' They had the
pool to themselves. Sandra had her suspicions the others were
giving her and Steve some quality time together.

Steve
said, 'Frank could have gone either way. I must admit I was
surprised when he finally said he was in.'

'I
wouldn't have held it against him if he had gone home to his
family. Same goes for the rest of you.'

'It was
the nuclear thing that did it for Frank. He said to me later, “how
dare those sons of bitches bring a thing like that into our
country.” He wants to get stuck into them.'

'We need
a little luck to go with our efforts. We need to find them and
fast.'

* * *

'It's a
fantastic piece of engineering,' said Nick, looking at the computer
monitor. 'Terrific precision.'

Ferret
said, 'Assuming they have achieved that level of accuracy on the
actual missiles. This would have to be machined in a well equipped
factory to make it work.'

'They
couldn't smuggle them into the country?'

'Perhaps
a few components could get through,' said Ferret. 'Where the
materials for the isotope came from, is anyone's guess. Russian
black market perhaps. And how the hell they smuggled it into the
country I can't even imagine. The proof that enough money can solve
most problems. Oh! But look at this. Interesting.'

'What is
it?'

'Hang on
a minute. Let me just check the code again to be certain. I was
right. Jeez. It's a laser guidance system. I didn't get that
before. I thought it was just a part of the warhead. This in the
nosecone homes in on a laser target aimed at the building. In
theory, the laser could be positioned anywhere. Oh. Here it is,
attached to the top of the launcher, near the rear end.'

'Ah!'
said Nick. 'Does that mean they'll fire it at night?'

'It does
not. Daylight, nighttime, it doesn't make any difference to the
laser. Having said that, the only way the beam could be detected in
the daytime is by infrared goggles. And by the time the beam was
seen, it would be too late. Game over.'

Nick
asked, 'What would you say was the range of the
missile?'

'More
than enough,' said Ferret. 'It's the range of the laser that
matters. Between one and two miles, depending on the type used. I'm
thinking two maximum.'

Nick
said, 'Any other factors than distance?'

'The
laser beam needs to have nothing obstructing it. No other buildings
in its way. It doesn't matter about the missile. It'll follow the
laser, no matter what.'

'In that
case, we need to be looking for an elevated launching site, no
further then two miles from the conference centre.'

Ferret
put a map of the area on the screen. 'Forget any buildings. They
have the launcher on the back of a truck. The launch site needs to
be reachable by road.'

'Okay.
Here's a possibility. Here. And maybe here.'

'Too far
out.'

'This
hilly area here.'

'No
roads.'

'Right.
Not there. This is going to take ages.'

'I'll
get the beer,' said Ferret.

Chapter 63

It took
an hour and a half for the media people to go through the security
screening in the foyer. All equipment was scrutinised, five times
over. Men and women went through x-ray and metal detectors. Some
complained about overkill, but were given the option. Be checked
over, or leave. None left. At last, Carlisle took the small
temporary stage, the wall behind him covered in all the flags from
the participating countries.

'Ladies
and gentlemen. Thank you for your cooperation this morning. We make
no apologies for what may seem like excessive security here today.
We live in uncertain times and we are taking no chances. I'll field
any questions before the photo opportunity. You.'

'Trinity
Squires, Chanel eight news. Sir. Could you give us some idea of the
itinerary of this conference?'

'Trinity. Enjoyed your feature on third world poverty last
week, by the way. Good job.' It didn't hurt to get them onside.
'This conference has been many months in the planning. The world
has had it tough for too long. Our intention is to slug it out and
try to resolve some of the things holding us back from moving on. I
suggested best of ten rounds, but realised President Milliner has a
much longer reach.'

The
light hearted joke got a polite ripple of laughter.

'Over
there.'

'Tom
Gatskill, Radio Two news.'

'Love
your station, Tom. If I ever have trouble getting off to sleep at
night, I tune in to you. Only kidding, Tom. Love your insightful
comment. Go for it.'

'Sir.
There have been other such conferences. What makes this one
different?'

'Shh.
Don't tell them, but the Chinese haven't been invited.'

Another
ripple of laughter.

'I jest.
Some of my best friends are Chinese. We'll catch up with them one
of these days.'

After a
couple more questions, Carlisle stood with his peers, all looking
confident and business like. Carlisle had fielded the questions
with his calm and charming style, sending the media away smiling,
feeling as if he had actually answered a straight question with
straight answer.

'Right,'
said Carlisle. 'A spot of lunch, then on with the show.'

* * *

President Milliner sipped his water. 'Here's where I'm coming
from. I learnt my best stuff about economics from my dad, over
forty years ago. He was a coal miner. If he didn't work, we didn't
eat. He earned every dollar from the sweat of his brow, lying on
his belly in the shit, swinging a pick in a three foot seam. He
told me this. “Son. You wanna buy something worth a dollar, don't
go shopping with ninety cents. You have a dollar to invest, make
damn sure you double that dollar.'

'Some
point to this?' said the French Prime Minister.

'You bet
your ass there is. My dad also told me this. It was the time when
we were sending all our work offshore. Dad said, we're selling our
jobs and that's going to cost us. I grew up watching that
prediction come true. Time to get our jobs back.'