He pushed his spectacles back up his nose, one foot tapping restively on the carpet, as if it were trying to talk the rest of his body into getting up and taking a walk.
Adira spoke to Alex. ‘The pressing importance is described by two critical pieces of information.’ She held up a finger: ‘One, we now know that Natanz, although a working enrichment facility, was just a front. That facility must have cost them billions of rials, but they were willing to sacrifice it to the United Nations to hide what they were doing at Persepolis, the site of the powerful gamma pulse. We believe that the Persepolis facility is now destroyed or has suffered a serious set-back. And two,’ she held up a second finger, ‘we believe they have another site, which they have rushed into full production. Whatever they did at Persepolis, they liked it and are now trying to reproduce it.’
Alex noticed her fingers had now clenched into a fist. ‘But reproduce what,’ he said. ‘A black hole? Why? What can they possibly do with it? My understanding is that these things weigh thousands of tons and disappear almost as soon as they are created – how does one contain or use something like that? What could they gain from creating this type of entity?’ Alex had his own theories, but needed to get the Israelis to cut to the chase.
This time Zachariah cut Adira off. ‘You’re right, Captain, a black hole just a little bigger than this room would weigh as much as our planet. But in just ten seconds it could output more gamma radiation than the sun could in ten billion years. You don’t need to create a large black hole – and you wouldn’t want to, as even a small one could interact with regular matter and start a chain reaction that would continue to devour the planetary substance until Earth was destroyed. But that energy source, that magnificent energy source – just imagine if it could be harnessed. It would render all other energies and fuels obsolete. Future wars will be fought over fuel, or lack of it. This power could be a primary reason for making war redundant!’
Zachariah Shomron was almost bouncing in his seat with excitement. Adira placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed – perhaps to settle the young man down, Alex thought, or cut him off before he said something she didn’t want him to.
‘You asked what the Iranians could do with this type of thing, Captain Hunter?’ Adira said. ‘Well, how about a type of particle-beam weapon directing a 10,000-sievert burst of gamma radiation? They could destroy anything with that beam – the only thing that would stop it would be ten feet of solid lead or the curve of the earth. Everything else it touched would either disintegrate or be carbonised.’ Adira’s eyes burned as she spoke; not with Zachariah Shomron’s scientific curiosity, but with anger.
‘You seem well informed for a linguistics expert, Ms Senesh,’ Alex said, keeping his gaze flat as his eyes met hers.
Before Adira could respond, Zachariah bounced to his feet. ‘And what about space travel, time travel or even interdimensional travel? Black holes aren’t just universal garbage compactors – we still don’t know what really happens when you enter the singularity. Does matter contacting with dark matter cancel you out? Are you simply absorbed, crushed, or do you go somewhere else . . . or some
when
else – a different time, a different universe perhaps? All we know is that once something passes through a black hole, it exits our universe. In fact, in 1921 Kal–’
Sam held up one hand. ‘Dr Shomron, if you’re going to talk in detail about Kaluza-Klein or superstring theory, you’re going to lose us. Can you break it down a little further?’
The young Israeli steepled his fingers, enjoyment showing at the corners of his mouth. ‘I was, sorry. Okay, um . . . in the most basic terms, a black hole is defined by an inner and outer perimeter. The outer rim of the black hole, really its definition, is called the event horizon; past this point there is no return . . . of anything. Black holes really aren’t black, they have no colour – the blackness is actually the
absence
of colour. The absence of anything really – colour, light, heat, everything. Once past the event horizon, you enter the actual entity, the singularity.’
Alex opened his folder and retrieved a small pile of eight by ten glossy photographs. He held the first one up to the Israelis – it showed the biological mess that had once been the German scientist Hoeckler. Adira didn’t flinch, but Zachariah paled.
Alex tapped the gruesome image. ‘How does this fit in? This is, or was, a German national by the name of Rudolf Hoeckler. We know he was working with the Iranians on a secret uranium-enrichment program, but it seems he got himself caught up in some type of accident. His body was recovered just outside of Colorado Springs – we don’t know how he got there, and we suspect Germany and Iran don’t know how he got there either – or, for that matter, that he got there at all.’
‘I . . . I knew Professor Hoeckler,’ Zachariah stuttered. ‘He was a brilliant physicist, and had some groundbreaking ideas on the laser enhancement of particles in the fissionable materials purification processes. In fact, the laser techniques he used . . . hey, that’s it! There’s your acceleration trigger – Hoeckler must have had a breakthrough. Or thought he did. This is amazing.’
Zachariah went through the photographs, nodding as though confirming what he suspected. ‘He was irradiated, right?’
‘At least 500 sieverts,’ Alex said. ‘Made a lot of people sick before he was sealed into a lead crate.’
‘Amazing. I’ve never seen this sort of physical distortion before – in fact, no one has – but I’ve read theories on it. Have you ever heard of “spaghettification”?’ Zachariah didn’t wait for an answer. ‘It’s where the atomic structure of mass is stretched by enormous gravitational tidal forces – like what’s theoretically supposed to happen when you’re falling into a black hole. Your physical fibre becomes elongated as your somatic structure comes under the influence of the most powerful gravitational force in our universe.’
‘Very interesting, Dr Shomron,’ said Alex as he put the images back in their folder. ‘That could theoretically explain his condition, but how the hell did he get onto American soil?’
Zachariah’s brow creased as though he was trying to tease apart a tangled physics equation. ‘I don’t know for sure, but if I had to guess I’d say that he was washed back . . .’ He paused and tapped his lips with his fingers. ‘The universe doesn’t like an imbalance – if he exited to another universe, then, through basic universal elasticity, he should have been washed back into our universe. But if he weren’t, then something else had to be washed in in his place to restore the balance. I guess it was lucky he even appeared back on Earth. You know, there’s a theory that postulates other dimensions and universes as strings and –’
Adira raised her voice over her colleague’s. ‘You asked what the Iranians would do with this type of technology, Captain. If it were a rational regime we were dealing with, I might be able to answer that question, but it isn’t rational. Mahmoud Moshaddam reads the Qur’an as if it’s a script for his own life; he truly believes that if mankind is cleansed from the planet the pious believers will rise again to form a true Islamic caliphate worldwide. Every time he makes a speech, he includes some reference to the apocalypse. Captain Hunter, we must not underestimate Moshaddam’s ability to create some sort of man-made extinction event just to see his vision come true.’
Alex noticed that Adira’s hand had made a fist again and her eyes bored into his as she spoke. ‘We need to find that second site as soon as possible; we can’t afford to wait and see what they plan to do with this technology. We have agents working day and night in Iran to find this information for us. Make no mistake, Captain, this technology is beyond dangerous. It needs to be eradicated immediately.’
FOURTEEN
I
t was late afternoon by the time the briefing and strategy session was finished, and Alex had talked through the HAWCs’ approach plan. Afterwards, back in his room, Alex put a call through to Hammerson and updated him on the new Israeli theories.
Hammerson called back fifteen minutes later: the mission profile had changed. If the energy pulse was the result of new technology, Alex was to upload or secure that technology and await further orders. Priority was now information retrieval; destruction had become the secondary option.
Hammerson said he was sending Sam an ‘exa-box’ from a local US technology outpost. Alex had heard of them: small flat boxes the size of a cigarette pack with multiple ports to enable it to be plugged into any computer. The small boxes had the ability to store one exabyte of information – that was a ‘1’ with eighteen zeros after it. Alex had been told the device could easily store all the words from every human language that had ever existed – and be slipped into your back pocket. Today, information was power, and an exa-box was the latest way to steal and transport it.
Alex lay on his bunk and stared at the ceiling.
Secure the technology and get it back home . . . hmm.
How were seven foreign agents going to secure a heavily guarded laboratory in the middle of a foreign country while he tried to back up an exabyte of data? He closed his eyes and thought through some scenarios. None looked easy or made a lot of sense, but there was one that stuck in his mind: where he and his team were unsuccessful. If their mission failed, Israel would send in a squadron of F-161 Sufa Falcons armed with laser-guided AGM-45 Shrike missiles and some big AGM-130s with thermobaric warheads for deep ground penetration. Or worse – a single mega-kiloton missile to vaporise everything for miles. The fallout would be off the radioactive spectrum. A lot was at stake here.
Alex was also worried about taking Dr Shomron along. He wasn’t concerned for the woman. If she was Mossad – either Kidon or Metsada – she could take care of herself. But the young scientist, even with the HAWCs there, would be significantly exposed. That said, Alex knew Shomron would be needed on the ground. He may be the only one who could actually identify what it was they were looking for.
But does he know what he’s getting himself into?
Alex shifted on the cot, trying to get comfortable. His mind was racing and his headache had returned.
Damnit, can’t babysit them all
, he thought.
And if the scientist volunteered, it was his own head after all.
Still Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t have all the facts.
Something’s missing, but what?
All the puzzle pieces weren’t being laid out.
Too late now
, he thought,
we’re committed
.
He tossed and turned for another fifteen minutes, then surrendered to his body’s agitation.
Gotta burn some energy
, he thought as he got to his feet.
Adira found the American HAWC captain wandering along the corridor, trying various doors. At first she’d assumed he was spying, but the T-shirt and towel around his neck and the embarrassed look on his face convinced her he was genuinely looking for somewhere to exercise. She knew herself what the body was like before a mission.
She looked him up and down and grinned. ‘No gymnasium or running track, and don’t ask about a soda machine either. To use one of your own American phrases, you’re not in Kansas anymore, Captain. And don’t even consider jogging up and down the corridor or you’ll be shot.’ She laughed and let him off the hook. ‘I can offer you a coffee, and we can talk through more details of the plan. If you want, you can even do some push-ups on my floor.’
Alex laughed too and gave a slight bow of the head. ‘Lead on.’
She took him to a room more spartan than his own. She kicked a seat around for him to sit on and flicked the button on the electric kettle, which boiled furiously. ‘Instant, no sugar, no milk, and no cookies. The water also tastes like metal.’ She turned to look at him with raised eyebrows.
‘Just the way I like it,’ Alex responded with mock enthusiasm.
Adira handed him the steaming metallic-smelling brew, then sipped her own in silence. She could feel the tall American looking at her, assessing her. For the first time in many years she felt awkward, self-conscious.
Achhh, stop it
, she thought. She knew there was something on his mind; something he wanted to ask. She waited.
Alex looked at her over his cup. ‘Ms Senesh, why do I feel you’re simply looking for a lift and some US armour plating, and once we locate the target you’ll go on a killing spree that ends up making the mission more kamikaze than Special Ops?’
If not for her training, Adira may have spluttered coffee over herself. She hadn’t expected an American to be so direct, or to try to flush away her cover so quickly. Now she wondered if she’d ever had any cover with this agent. Best to ‘play ball’, as the Americans called it.
‘Captain Hunter, my orders are to assist Dr Shomron in the detection of the facility and, if necessary, to aid you in the destruction of any threatening technology. That is all.’ She kept her gaze steady as Alex’s eyes drilled into hers.
He shook his head slowly. ‘I’m not sure you’re worth the risk, Ms Senesh. Dr Shomron will be a physical liability, but I can manage that. What I would find distracting is you making a mess while we’re trying to do our jobs.’
Adira felt a flush of anger colour her cheeks but she responded as evenly as she could. ‘Captain Hunter, Israelis have never been a liability on any mission,
ever.
With us you will succeed, this I promise. You should be aware that if you were unsuccessful in your assignment, then our government would mount its own mission. It would, unfortunately, be a little more heavy-handed than what you are planning. The Iranians will retaliate, of course, and also shut off their oil supply lines. And, while they’re at it, activate hundreds of terrorist sleeper cells internationally. It will get very expensive and very bloody for all of us. My orders are to assist you, and I give my word that I will follow your commands at all times.’
Adira was breathing heavily when she finished. No one had ever dared infer she was either a risk or a liability for any mission.