There were 32 satellites in total, each of them put into orbit
seven months earlier. BigEye 1 through BigEye 32 had been
launched in a single array from the Space Shuttle
Endeavour
.
Now they formed a girdle around the earth at a mean altitude
of between 22,330 and 22,335 miles. This altitude is known
in the trade as a geosynchronous orbit, which is a fancy
term for when a satellite orbits at the same rate as the planet
turns. This means it stays in one position relative to the
surface: it sort of 'hovers'. Between them these satellites could
monitor 98 per cent of the planet's surface. And they were
packed with some of the most advanced digital information
collection and processing devices CARPA could offer; the
sort of stuff that would not be seen in a conventional NASA
or ESA satellite for at least two decades.
The BigEye satellites could detect any form of 'unconventional
disturbance' on Earth. They could filter out, almost
instantaneously, any 'registered' or 'legitimate' explosion,
gas emission or radiation burst, and they could notify the
ground crew of E-Force of any natural disturbance above
a designated level. The moment an earthquake, a volcanic
eruption, a bomb blast or a catastrophic gas leak occurred,
a BigEye would know about it. The instant a serious
gunfight broke out or a riot began, a BigEye would sound a
warning.
But detection was just the beginning. A single BigEye,
smaller than an automobile engine, possessed more
processing power than the Pentagon. It could analyse the
chemical composition of a gas leak in a building to one part
in a billion. It could produce high-res 3D images of a dust
mote from 22,000 miles up, and it could locate the heat
from a human being five floors below ground. It could pick
up the sound of a heartbeat.
BigEye 7 was positioned 22,334 miles above southern
California when the bombs exploded at grid reference 34?
02' 22.77'' N, 118? 16' 03.93'' W, the California Conference
Center in downtown Los Angeles. The first bomb blast was
at 19.17.36 Pacific Standard Time, the second at 19.17.41.
Travelling at the speed of light, the energy emitted from
the blasts took about 0.12 seconds to reach BigEye 7's
photoelectric detectors and gamma-ray receptors. Zero
point six seconds later, the central processor array instructed
the retro rockets to realign the satellite and the radiation
detectors to focus on a circle half a mile in diameter with
the CCC at its epicentre. Another 1.3 seconds passed before
twelve of those detectors began to collect data. Information
concerning chemical emissions and sound would take much
longer to reach the satellites, but when that data arrived it
would be added to the mix to give a fuller picture of what
had happened.
The two explosions were 4.7 seconds apart, the second
more powerful than the first. The detonation rate – the speed
of the explosive wave-front – was 18,649 feet per second
for the first explosion, and 19,989 feet per second for the
second. The detectors aboard BigEye 7 quickly pinpointed
the precise locations of each explosion. The first had been on
the Ground Floor of the CCC, and the second on the Lower
Ground Floor, directly beneath Hall A. First indications from
BigEye 7's radiation detectors showed that the explosive
material was non-nuclear. From the explosion profile and
detonation rate, it was most probably a variant of HBX-1, a
blend of TNT and RDX, a white crystalline substance often
called hexogen and composed of calcium chloride and a
wax dubbed D-2.
Even before a fireball with a measured mean temperature
of 6960K ripped through Hall A – some seven seconds after
the second blast – a warning signal was sent from BigEye 7
to Base One. With it was transmitted all the data gathered
from the explosion sites up to that moment, a packet of just
over 3 gigabytes of information. BigEye 7 then passed on a
constant stream of updates as more data was collected.
Nine point two seconds after the second explosion, the
first human beyond the immediate vicinity of the California
Conference Center became aware that a catastrophic
explosion had occurred in downtown Los Angeles. That
person was Tam Finnegan, Technician 1st Class, at Base One,
Tintara.
They were all gathered in Cyber Control. On the large screen
was a map of Los Angeles.
'This is what we know so far,' Mark Harrison began. He was
standing closest to the big screen and was wearing a black
boilersuit and boots. He had been on a training exercise with
Stephanie and Pete when he received the news. 'A BigEye has
detected two large explosions at grid reference 34° 02' 22.77''
N, 118° 16' 03.93'' W. The first occurred eleven minutes ago
at 19.17 PST. The second one came very soon after.'
The image on the screen changed as the computer
zeroed in on the reference. A satellite image of downtown
LA now filled the screen, and as the edges fell away the
California Conference Center grew. Soon they could all see
the large complex of buildings girded by the Santa Monica
and Harbor freeways. There were two massive holes in the
roof, and what looked like lunar craters all around the
gutted infrastructure. On closer inspection, the gaping
black holes were huge jagged openings in the metal roof
pinpointing the epicentres of the explosions. All around
the building lay concrete pillars, piles of twisted metal
and a carpet of shattered glass. The image began to move
again, focussing in on the building. They could see lumps
of red and pink, and vaguely human shapes that were
black as pitch.
Cyber Control was silent, apart from the hum and
occasional click of one of the many machines in the room.
Then Mark's voice cut in. 'Some of you may recognise this
building. It is the California Conference Center. At the time
of the explosion it was host to a special event, a speech by
Senator Kyle Foreman, the founder of OneEarth. The hall he
was speaking in has a capacity of 1100, and it was a sell-out –
there was a queue outside the main entrance of the CCC.'
'Any idea of casualty figures?' Peter asked.
'It's not possible to say for sure. The local emergency
services are on their way as we speak. We can only make an
educated guess based on what we have from the BigEye.' He
took two paces towards the main computer console, where
Tom was positioned in his electric wheelchair. 'Sybil,' Mark
said to the air, 'can we have the stats for the explosion,
please?'
The female voice of the computer answered immediately,
and at the same time numbers flashed up on the big screen.
'According to BigEye 7, the first blast had an explosive
power of 18,649 feet per second. The second, 19,989 feet
per second. Mean temperature at the epicentre of first blast
was 6960K; for the second, 7180K.'
'Pete,' Mark said, turning towards him. 'You're the expert.
What's that in English?'
Peter Sherringham shook his head. 'Not good,' he said,
and ran a hand through his hair. 'Very bad, actually. Each
blast was equivalent to about a ton of TNT. In the same
ballpark as a very big airborne bomb used in Iraq.'
'Latest data from BigEye 7 suggests the first blast was
equivalent to 0.9 tons of TNT, the second 1.2 tons,' Sybil
confirmed.
'What about the type of explosive?' Pete asked, joining
Tom at the console. 'Anything from the satellite, Sybil?'
'Preliminary spectroscopic analysis indicates the presence
of at least 24 different chemicals. The most common are
calcium chloride, a complex manmade wax, possibly D-2,
and high levels of phosphorus.'
'Aye, it's an HBX explosive.'
'Which is?' Josh asked.
'A very powerful plastic explosive used by the military.
A fistful of the stuff would produce blasts like these. It's
practically odourless and easily hidden. Bloody perfect for
this sort of operation.'
'Who uses it, apart from the military? Is it a signature
explosive?'
'Yeah, it was a favourite of al-Qaeda. But the Chechen
rebels used it too. Iraqi resistance forces dabbled with it. It's
popular.'
Mark joined Pete and Tom beside the computer console.
'So what are we looking at in terms of damage?'
Pete shook his head, looking at his feet. He let out a
heavy sigh. 'It's not going to be pretty, Mark. I'd put it at
90 per cent kill rate within a hundred feet of the blast. But
of course there's no accounting for where the bombs were
placed and what the structure of the Conference Center is
like. Look at 9/11. Who could have imagined the towers
coming down?'
There was another long silence. No one seemed to know
what to say.
Then Stephanie spoke. 'Mark, what are you thinking?'
'That we're not ready.'
Peter, Josh and Steph all protested simultaneously.
'We've almost completed training. We know what we're
doing,' Josh declared.
Mark raised both hands. 'I understand your enthusiasm.
It's admirable, but we cannot risk –'
'Mark, don't talk crap,' Pete stated bluntly.
Mark looked stunned for a moment, then said, 'Okay.
The emergency services are on their way. We can offer them
assistance from here, satellite data, anything that will help.'
'That's horseshit, Mark, and you know it,' Josh spat. 'We
could go into parts of the building the emergency services
can't reach. We could ferry the injured to hospitals. We
could put out fires, stabilise the roof, use our heavy
lifting gear to rescue survivors. There's plenty to do, for
God's sake.'
Mark whirled on him. 'Oh, right! You make it sound
easy, Josh! Do you think I like turning my back on a disaster
like this? Huh? You know as well as I do that if we go in
unprepared we could do more harm than good. This isn't
a game.' Then, with uncharacteristic venom, he added, 'Be
grateful it's not your decision, my friend.'
Josh was bristling, but took a deep breath and kept
quiet.
'The best thing we can –'
'Sir?' It was one of the technicians at the terminals.
Mark spun on his heel. 'Yes?'
'Priority red call, sir. It's Senator Mitchell.'
Mark took a few paces towards the big screen, which had
now lit up with the visage of a man in his mid-sixties. White
hair swept across his head. He had piercing dark-brown eyes
and a small mouth. Senator Evan Mitchell had been Mark's
most enthusiastic supporter in establishing E-Force.
'Senator.'
'You've heard, of course.'
'Yes.'
'What do you plan to do?'
'We're not ready to move. I'm sorry.'
'That is a pity,' Mitchell said. 'Have you taken a straw poll?'
And he gazed into the face of each of the team, beginning
with Josh, who still looked extremely tense.
'We're not a democracy.'
'No, I understand. It's just that I think you're going to
have to be ready.'
'What are you talking about?'
'We've just traced a call made from Senator Kyle Foreman's
cell phone. A call to 911. He's alive, or at least he was a few
minutes ago. You have to get him out of there, along with
anyone else you can save.'
No one spoke. Josh stared at Stephanie, who would not
meet his gaze. Tom sat with his hands in his lap, a faint,
unreadable smile playing about his lips.
'And this is not open to debate?'
'I understand your anxiety, Mark. Believe me.'
'But you want me to risk the lives of the team and the
very real possibility we'll screw up on our first mission. What
a great ad that would make.'
'That hardly sounds like the ringing endorsement your
team deserves, does it?' Senator Mitchell looked around at
the others again.
'You're twisting my words, Senator,' Mark responded. 'I
have every faith in my team.'
'Excellent. So that's settled then. Keep me appraised,
Mark.'
'Hang on,' Mark snapped. 'How on earth did you know
Senator Foreman used his cell?'
Senator Evan Mitchell smiled briefly. 'Don't sound so
surprised, Mark. I would have thought it was obvious. Kyle
Foreman's a very important man. His phone has been tapped
for at least a year.'
Mark Harrison lowered himself onto a stool close to Tom
Erickson's workstation, crossed his legs, and folded his
arms over his chest. After a moment, he looked at the team
gathered around him. 'Well, that's that, then. We'd better
get to work.'
'Mark –' Stephanie began.
He raised a hand. 'Enough has been said, Steph. But I just
want you all to know, I have never doubted your abilities for
a second. It's simply that this thing has never been tested.
It's . . .'
'Risky?' Josh offered.
Mark shook his head. 'And then some.'
Tom brought a schematic of the CCC and the surrounding
area up on the big screen. 'There are two parts to it,' he
began. 'First, the 20-storey Hilton Hotel. From the BigEye
images, it looks like it got off very lightly, just superficial
damage.' Aerial shots of the tower with shattered windows
appeared at one side of the big screen.
'There's a bridge on the first floor linking the Hilton with
the Conference Center. Or at least, there was. It's collapsed.
The other building is the CCC itself. It's a low, squat structure
only four floors high, but spread out over a large area.
However, there are six floors below ground. Mostly parking,
but also admin and storage areas.
'There are six elevators serving all ten floors of the
complex. It has four sets of emergency stairs, two at each
end of the building.' Tom ran his hands over the virtual
keyboard and a cursor indicated the stairs. 'There is also a
large service lift, here.' A red cursor moved to the back of
the building. 'This is for accessing the main storage area
on B6, the deepest level of the complex. It runs directly
from B6 to Ground, but does not go up to the other three
floors.'
'Okay, Tom. What about the surrounding area?' Josh
asked.
'It's smack in the middle of downtown LA, tucked up
close to the junction of the 10 and 110 freeways. There's
a large ground-level car park to the south-east of the main
building. Directly opposite the main entrance is a low-rise
mall, a Kmart, a Dunkin' Donuts and a gas station.'
'Well,' Mark said. 'As you know, we work with the
emergency services whenever we can. We can see paramedics
and firefighters have just been mobilised. The Los Angeles
County operational coordinator will have been notified.
Like everywhere, post-9/11, they'll have well-rehearsed
procedures for responding to an incident like this. At least,
I hope they do.
'Our orders are clear. We have to focus on the senator
and whoever else is with him. Josh, you go ahead in a
Silverback. Steph and Pete, you follow on in the Big Mac.
We'll go through the equipment you'll need and get it on
board ASAP.'
'What about Mai?' Stephanie asked.
'She'll be with her mother in Houston, I imagine. I'll
contact her right away. If she's able to join us, I'll get
her picked up. We have a base there with a Silverback on
permanent standby. She should make it to LA about the
same time you two get there.'
'Tom,' Mark added, 'I'll need the mayor and the emergency
response coordinator.'
'They're going to be up to their necks in it.'
'I'm aware of that, but I must have their clearance. If
there's any resistance from either of them, go straight to the
governor. And if that fails, get Senator Mitchell to call the
White House direct. Let's go.'