The Citadel (22 page)

Howard Air Force Base, Panama

Major Frank Bellamy watched the confusion in his men's faces as they were handed the cold-weather clothing that the battalion sergeant major had scrounged out of the central issue facility. The fact that the facility even had cold-weather gear was a little surprising, but they were Special Forces, after all—ready to go anywhere in the world at a moment's notice. Just because they were stationed in Panama didn't mean they wouldn't be sent to someplace less temperate.
Bellamy grabbed the red webbing that served as seats on the side of the MC-130 Combat Talon as the plane suddenly stopped on the runway and then slowly turned, the roar of the engines easily penetrating the metal skin.
The loadmaster was yelling at Bellamy to get his men seated for takeoff. Bellamy ignored him—the Air Force always acted like they were the most important thing in the world and the other services were just training aids to support them. What difference would it make if his men were seated on the web seats or standing in the middle of the plane if it crashed on takeoff? They'd be dead either way.
Bellamy was the company commander for C Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Special Forces Group (Airborne) stationed in Panama. He'd received the alert direct from Special Operations Command forty minutes ago, and in that time had gathered together the two of his teams that weren't out training and gotten them and their gear loaded onto this aircraft. The twenty-six men were now crowded in the rear of the aircraft, trying to sort through the rapidly loaded equipment. Halfway up the cargo bay, a large black curtain blocked the view forward. Bellamy knew that behind that curtain were banks of electronic equipment manned by Air Force personnel. With a slight bump, the brakes were released and the plane rumbled down the runway.
His XO, Captain Manchester, sat next to him and yelled into his ear, "Where are we going?"
"Antarctica!" Bellamy shouted back.
Manchester took that news in stride. "What for?"
"Fuck if I know," Bellamy replied. "All the alert said was to get our butt in gear. I'm supposed to get filled in once we're airborne and SOCOM gets its shit together and calls."
Manchester nodded and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. No sense worrying about what they didn't know. Bellamy had the same attitude. He bunched up a poncho liner behind his head and was asleep less than ten minutes after takeoff.

8th Army Headquarters, Yongsan, South Korea

The U.S. 8th Army Commander, General Patterson, steepled his fingers and contemplated his staff G-2. The G-2 was the officer responsible for intelligence, and it was at his request that the other primary staff members of Patterson's headquarters were gathered here at almost eleven at night in the situation room. The G-2 had just spent twenty minutes going over his recent intelligence data and had finished only a minute ago. The rest of the room was waiting on Patterson's reaction.
"Okay. Let me see if I have this straight. All these indicators that you've just briefed add up to level four activity across the border. Am I correct?"
Contrary to what many nonmilitary people thought, it was impossible to launch a large-scale military campaign without certain preparations. These preparations were the keys that the intelligence agencies of all the armed forces in the world watched for in their potential enemies. Noting some of those activities across the border in North Korea had led the G-2 to become concerned and call this meeting.
"Yes, sir."
"How many times have you seen this?" Patterson asked.
"We saw it during Team Spirit back in March. The North went up to level two then, but that was expected, as they do it every year during that exercise. We haven't seen an unexpected four like this in the past eight months that I've been here. This level four activity could just be part of movements among the various factions that want to take over next.
"However, I must point out that the activity seems to be southern directed." The G-2 gestured at the map on the wall behind him. "The satellite imagery definitely shows the V and II PKA Corps moving to forward assault positions along the border."
"They may be doing this just to get us to deploy our forward elements into their battle positions so they can ID them," the operations officer, G-3, said. "They can pull those units back just as quickly as they move them forward."
"Our sensing equipment is also picking up some tunneling activity in the DMZ," the G-2 pointed out. "We haven't pinpointed it yet, but it's the most extensive we've heard in a long time."
Over the years, three tunnels had been discovered and neutralized coming from the North under the DMZ. It was estimated that there were at least eighteen more tunnels in place that had yet to be found. Each of these tunnels was large enough to pass an estimated 8,000 troops an hour through.
Patterson frowned. Level four was the first stage of intelligence alert to possible invasion from the North. By itself, it required no action on his part other than to inform subordinate commanders. Level three—if it came to that—required the restriction of all personnel to base and a one-hour alert status for every unit. Level two required forward movement to defensive positions and the initiation of movement of reinforcements from U.S. bases outside of the Korean peninsula—the real version of the Team Spirit exercise that was conducted every year. Level one meant war was possible with less than a ten-minute warning.
All that was fine and well, but they were alerts that had been designed before the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan. Patterson had been trying to coordinate with the Pentagon to update the alert system based on the reality that many of the reinforcements traditionally earmarked for South Korea in time of war were already at war in Iraq. And even a brigade of his own forces from the 2d Infantry Division had deployed just four months ago from South Korea to Iraq.
"How far out are they from reaching level one?" Patterson asked.
The G-2 bit his lower lip. "I'd say minimum of seventy-two hours, sir, if they're committed to it. More likely a week. If we get any of several intelligence nodes passed in the next eight to twelve hours we will be at level three."
Patterson nodded. "All right. Inform me immediately if I have to go to level three alert. I want all major subordinate commanders alerted about the level four. That includes all reinforcing units. I'm going to personally call the commanding general of the 25th in Hawaii and update him. I'll also call the war room in the Pentagon." He turned to his Air Force and naval commanders. "Please notify your respective personnel to go to level four alert."
"Yes, sir."

Antarctica

Tai had watched the steady stream of ice splatter down the chute for the past fifteen minutes. Now Vaughn's feet appeared as he hopped down. "Who's next?" he asked as he shook ice flakes off his parka.
Logan zipped up his jacket. "I'll go."
Brothers stood. "No. I'll go. I need the exercise to warm up. You take the next shift."
As Vaughn took the rope off his own waist and wrapped it around the pilot, he filled in the rest of the group on his progress. "I made about four or five feet in. Most of the metal tubing is still good. It almost looks like the ice either came in from the top or we haven't reached the break in the wall yet. Let's hope the ice didn't crush the metal together."
Brothers cinched the rope around his waist. "All set."
Vaughn pointed. "I hung the shovel on the top rung."
"Okay." With a weary smile, Brothers reached up and pulled himself into the tube.
The temperature in the reactor room had dropped considerably due to the open hatch and the slowly melting pile of ice in the far corner. Tai had gone through the supplies Vaughn had piled in the room and put together a cold meal of crackers and canned fruit cocktail. She handed a can to Vaughn as he sat down on his ruck.
"Thanks." Vaughn smiled and held up a can of fruit. "C-rations. I haven't seen these in a long time."
Tai glanced over at Logan. He looked worn and scared. His sudden desire for action bothered her. They ate in silence, interrupted only by the sprinkle of ice from the hatch as Brothers continued to dig away.
She was surprised when Vaughn slid over until their legs were touching. "This was a cluster-fuck of a mission," he said.
Tai nodded. "Royce is shooting in the dark, hoping to hit something."
"And we're the bullets," Vaughn said.
"And we have little idea what the target is," Tai noted. "I'm starting to think you might be—" She never finished analyzing those feelings as her world went upside down. It was as if a large hand grasped the reactor room and lifted it, tumbling everyone to the floor. The lights went out and a tremendous roar, sounding like thousands of locomotives roaring by, shook her ears. Her last thought as she was thrown across the room was regret that she and Vaughn hadn't talked sooner.

CHAPTER 13
Antarctica

The fact that the epicenter of the blast was underground muffled the kinetic effect of the explosion but utterly disintegrated the Citadel, producing a puckered crater in the ice over a quarter mile wide. The fireball lashed across the surface, the heat finding nothing to sink its teeth into but searing the surface for over two kilometers in every direction. The immediate refreezing of the briefly melted ice produced a landscape that resembled sheets of glistening glass.
The immediate radiation was absorbed by the ice in a relatively short distance. The delayed radiation in the form of Strontium 90, Cesium 137, Iodine 131, and Carbon 14, was grabbed by the howling winds, and as the elements rose in the atmosphere, the radiation began spreading over a large area.

* * *

The flash and thermal energy washed by the convoy, bathing the snowy plain in dulled white light—the swirling snow having lessened the effect—the heat at a bearable level here over fifteen miles away from the epicenter of the blast. Min had turned the vehicle so the rear pointed directly back toward the base, five minutes prior to the hour, but still the shock wave split through the storm and slammed into the back of the SUSV with gale force. The vehicle actually lifted a foot off its rear tracks before rocking back down and continuing on its way.

McMurdo Station, Antarctica

Over five hundred miles to the west of the Citadel, needles on seismographs flickered briefly and then were still. Scientists scratched their heads, perplexed at the cause for the burp in their machines. Dutifully they recorded the data and forwarded it back to the United States. Over the next twenty minutes other Antarctic stations forwarded the same data as their machines registered it.
The two favorite theories bandied about at the various U.S. stations were either an earthquake or a massive split of ice off the ice shelf falling into the ocean. They were both wrong.

Russkaya Station, Antarctica

The senior scientist at the Russkaya Station looked at the various reports on the seismic disturbance and combined that with the severe electromagnetic pulse that had washed over his station ten minutes ago. The former might be explained by an earthquake or ice breaking—the latter by a severe sunspot. Together they added up to only one answer—a nuclear explosion. But how? Why? And most important of all, who?
Ah well, the scientist shrugged. That was for people much more important than him to worry about. He wrote up a report and had his radioman send it over the one transmitter that had survived the EMP pulse—an old tube radio that had been here since the base opened. All the modern solid-state circuitry radios had been fused by the EMP.

Vicinity of the Citadel, Antarctica

Tai checked her body, starting from head to foot, making sure all the parts were still functioning. Everything seemed all right. She sat up and turned her head from side to side, listening. Someone was moving nearby.
The total dark was the worst. Eyes wide open, she could see nothing. Then a small light flared out next to her and, in the glow, she saw Vaughn holding his flashlight.
"You okay?"
Tai nodded. "I think so."
Vaughn swiftly ran the light around the room. Logan appeared to be unconscious, with several boxes of supplies piled on top of him. Burke was groggily moving, hands on his head.
Vaughn ignored both of them as he jumped to his feet. He shined his light up into the shaft. A pair of feet disappearing into ice were all that he could see twenty feet above. He turned to Tai. "Hold the light for me. Brothers's buried." He rapidly climbed up.
Reaching the feet, Vaughn hooked one arm through a rung and squeezed one of the feet with his free hand, just to let Brothers know help was here. He hooked his fingers and tore at the ice, pulling away chunks. The cold helped to numb the pain as he tore fingernails loose. Vaughn worked by feel, the glow from the light in Tai's hand doing little good this far up.
"Is he all right?"
Vaughn kept working. He had yet to get any sort of reaction from Brothers. "I need help. Get up here."
Tai climbed up to just below him.
"When I get him free I need your help to lower him down. He's unconscious." He shoved his arm up along Brothers's chest and pulled hard. A large chunk of ice broke free, bounced off Vaughn and tumbled below. He felt Brothers's body shift and quickly grabbed the rope that was still hooked to a rung, easing the body down.
"Get him!" he yelled as he tried to unhook the snap link with numbed fingers. Tai had one arm wrapped around Brothers's body, but Vaughn couldn't unsnap the anchor. "Fuck it," he muttered and pulled out his knife. The razor sharp blade parted the rope with one swipe.
Vaughn dropped the knife and reached down to help Tai lower Brothers. Together they got the body down to the reactor floor. Vaughn jumped down out of the shaft as Tai pointed the flashlight at the man's face. The eyes were closed. Vaughn used his good hand to feel Brothers's neck as he leaned over and placed his cheek next to his mouth to see if he could pick up any breath. No breath, no pulse.
Vaughn tilted Brothers's head back and quickly blew three quick breaths in. He linked his fingers together and pressed down through the bulky clothes on the chest. Within ten seconds he was into the CPR rhythm.
He didn't know how long he'd been at it when Tai slid in on the other side and relieved him. Vaughn sank back on his haunches, his arms and shoulders burning with exhaustion. The pain from his hand was now a deep throbbing.
Vaughn gave Tai an estimated five minutes, then he took over again. Still no movement or sign of life. He shut down his mind and concentrated on the routine.
"He's dead." Tai's voice barely penetrated Vaughn's mind. He kept on. Finally he felt Tai's arms wrapping around him from behind. "He's dead, Vaughn. You can't bring him back. He was up there too long without air." Vaughn allowed the arms to pull him back away from the body.
"How're Logan and Burke?" Vaughn asked as he finally accepted the reality of Brothers's death.
Tai took the light across the room. "How are you?" she quietly asked.
Logan lifted up a haggard face. "What happened? Earthquake?"
"I don't know." She looked at Burke, whose eyes were now open. "Are you okay?"
"I think so."
Tai turned back to Vaughn and echoed Logan's question. "What happened?"
Vaughn wanted to laugh, but the feeling died just as quickly as it came. They were past that now—way past that. "One of the bombs went off."
Tai's eyes opened wide. "How could we have survived?"
Vaughn answered succinctly. "A quarter mile of ice between us and the blast center. The low yield, ten kilotons. An underground burst, which helped contain much of the energy. Being in this reactor, which was built to contain radiation and heavily shielded. And a lot of luck."
"Why did they set the bomb off?" Logan asked.
"To leave no trace," Vaughn replied. "There's nothing left of the Citadel now except this place. They have the other bomb free and clear and no one will ever know."
"There's us," Tai countered.
Vaughn conceded that point. "They probably underestimated the protection the reactor gave us. As far as the Koreans are concerned, we're history." Vaughn thought about what he had just said. "We may well be history too, if we don't get up to the surface." He looked around in the dim glow cast by the mag light. "We can talk about it when we get out. If we stay here, we die."