Authors: William C. Oelfke
“What quotation is that?”
asked David Benjamin.
“He wrote, ‘I am become
death, the destroyer of worlds.’”
David gasped. “That’s what
Robert Oppenheimer quoted at Trinity!”
“I thought Oppenheimer was an
agnostic. When was he speaking in a church?”
“Trinity was the code name
for the first atom bomb test in New Mexico. Oppenheimer chose the name from a
poem by John Donne called ‘Batter my Heart, Three-Personed God.’ The Trinity
site’s still radioactive almost seventy years later.”
Oliver jumped to his feet. “Good
Lord, if these three succeed in detonating a nuclear weapon anywhere in the
world, they could truly bring on Armageddon.”
Max also was standing. “As
soon as we get to New Zealand, I’ll make an encrypted call and give Clark the
details of our discussion and the reasons we fear a major act of terrorism.”
The three were now each
standing in the aisle of the small jet staring at each other in stunned
silence. Oliver looked from one to the other and said, “Let’s hope that once
Max has contacted the director, he can begin to act on this potential nuclear
threat. We must first do everything we can to save the crew at the Dark Sector
Lab.
As they each again took
their seats, Maxine asked, “This may seem like an odd question but, what’s the
color of hydraulic fluid?”
“Red, of course; why do you
ask?” inquired David.
“Well, let me read the rest
of Revelation following the emergence of the black horse and rider representing
famine. ‘And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, a measure of
wheat for a denarius and three measures of barley for a denarius; and see thou
not hurt the oil and wine.’ Spencer even spared the ‘oil and wine’ by filling
the food crates with motor oil and red hydraulic fluid.”
The three continued to
discuss any possible meaning in the clues that might be hidden in Benton
Spencer’s biblical passages. In particular they discussed the remaining verses
in Revelation describing the End of Days. Eventually the discussion trailed
off and they slept until the light of dawn began to illuminate the Southern
Pacific and the aircraft began its descent into Christchurch.
The G450 settled gently on
the runway at Christchurch Airport and taxied up to a large LC-130 Hercules
parked next to a hangar marked with the bold letters “United States Antarctic
Program.” The three passengers and two pilots emerged with their baggage into the
frigid, mid-morning twilight of southern New Zealand. Now, during the southern
winter, they would be experiencing long nights and short days. They were
greeted by the director of operations who showed them to a nearby lodge used by
visitors to the South Pole facility awaiting the hop to McMurdo and on to the
Amundsen – Scott Station. In winter this lodging was not often used because
transportation to and from the station was virtually impossible until late
spring.
After introductions the
director asked to speak alone with Oliver and Maxine. They followed him to his
office and sat near his desk filled with the usual clutter of supply manifests
and order forms. “I received a call last night from your director asking that
I place a security guard around our LC-130 day and night, indicating it might
be attacked. He also told me you were coming to help with the South Pole
relief effort and could fill me in on the nature of the threat. He said you
feared that the LC-130 at McMurdo may have already been sabotaged.”
“We’ve no way of knowing how
this conspiracy will play out here at Christchurch and at the Antarctic, but a
serious effort’s already been made to attack other elements of astrophysics and
particle physics research.”
“Well,” the director said
confidently, “I’ve ordered a complete examination of the LC-130 at McMurdo and
placed patrols on guard for both aircraft. We’ve gone over our aircraft
looking for devices planted in or on any of the engines. The crew at McMurdo
went through the same procedure last night and should be ready to make the
emergency run to the Pole later this morning.”
Oliver knew that every flight
from New Zealand to the Antarctic and back was a risk. There had been a number
of aircraft and human lives lost over the years on these treacherous flights,
even in the summer when conditions were at their best. Many of these losses
had been caused by the severe weather conditions. He also knew there had been
no losses due to attacks or sabotage in all this time. Oliver felt that this
lack of threat of sabotage partially explained the casual manner in which
security at this facility was being carried out. While Maxine had been making
her call to Clark, he had noticed some security personnel lounging inside at a
snack bar when they arrived and had seen no one outside in the vicinity of the
LC-130. He decided he would stay awake in order to keep an eye on the
transport all night. He had slept soundly prior to arrival and would be unable
to sleep this evening anyway.
When Maxine finished her call,
she motioned for Oliver to follow her outside the lobby. “Clark’s alarmed by
the possibility of a nuclear weapon as part of this conspiracy. He said he’d
let us know if there were any indications of its existence or where it might be
used.”
“Hopefully, Clark can learn
something from the interrogation of the Smith brothers. As for our task here,
I plan to sit up overnight to keep an eye on this supply aircraft. I’m not
impressed with the local guards.”
"I'll join you, Oliver. Remember
I’m the one who has a permit to carry and use a firearm. The guards are armed
and have radios; I’ll see if I can get one of them to give me a radio in case
we need to alert the entire detail.”
“Alert what detail?” asked Paul
Brown, the G450 copilot, as Oliver and Maxine re-entered the lobby.
“We plan to stand guard
overnight in case there is an attempt to sabotage this LC-130. I don’t trust this
local security detail,” said Maxine.
“Let me sit with you,”
replied Paul. “After all, my plane’s parked out there on the same tarmac. Maybe
you can fill me in on what’s going on here at the bottom of the world.” Paul
Brown had recently retired from the Marine Corps with the rank of Colonel. He
had flown many close support missions during the war in Afghanistan as an
F/A-18 pilot. He was familiar with combat danger and willing to put himself at
risk for the protection of these Homeland Security agents and their mission
here in the Antarctic.
As they all sat at lunch,
David Benjamin began to describe the facility at Amundsen–Scott and its nearby
air strip. “The large central lab building’s suspended above the snow pack on
pillars whose footings are set deep within the ice below. Since the entire
South Pole area is a glacier, it slowly moves and over time also grows in
thickness from the snow above. The facility, and its similarly designed
observatories, can therefore be moved upward or downward on their pillars to
keep them at the ever-changing ground level.
“As for the landing strip,
it’s nothing but packed snow that can hold the weight of the LC-130. This
aircraft sits here in New Zealand on wheels but can deploy skis for landings
and takeoffs on the snow runways, both at McMurdo and at the Pole. In winter
at the Pole, with continual darkness and blowing snow, these landings and
takeoffs are tough and unpredictable.”
Both the G450 pilot and
copilot agreed that such flying was out of their league.
As the lunch conversation
continued Oliver received a call from Clark at I&A. “Oliver, have you
learned anything yet about the relief flight from McMurdo Sound?”
“Nothing so far.”
“Well, I&A just got word
that both port engines failed during pre-flight warm-up and the disabled LC-130
cannot make the rescue flight. Your LC-130 at Christchurch is the last
resort. Make sure it can make the two hops to the Pole tonight. The crew at
McMurdo is clearing the runway and unloading the food supplies, in preparation
for the arrival of your aircraft.”
“We’re planning to put an
extra guard on it this afternoon. How were the engines sabotaged?”
“The ground crew believes
something was placed on the compressor blades of each of the two port engines
so that at high rpm it would fly loose into the inner turbines. We now think
the three workers, hired in Christchurch to help load the food pallets back in
February, were part of Spencer’s plot. As you predicted, they switched oil for
food by mislabeling the crates, helped load them on the Sno-Cat trailers to the
Pole, and, before returning to Christchurch, sabotaged the McMurdo LC-130.”
“I’m afraid these three may
still be here in Christchurch, intent on preventing any resupply of the Dark
Sector Lab. After lunch we’ll have the local mechanics carefully go over the
engines looking for anything like that on this LC-130. If we find nothing,
then I fear we may face some form of overt attack on the aircraft tonight.
This team of saboteurs must have access to the communications between here and
McMurdo, and now know our LC-130 is the last means of preventing famine at the
South Pole.
“By the way have you learned
anything from those two brothers who murdered Khalil’s colleague at CERN?”
“Milford and Barry Smith are
two pathetic pawns of Benton Spencer,” said Clark. “With a simple offer of
leniency, they agreed to tell us everything they knew. Unfortunately, that
wasn’t very much. They described obtaining a suitcase on a hilltop in the
middle of the night that they claimed was filled with holy artifacts so
powerful no one could look upon them. Finally, they assured us these artifacts
would be revealed at the End of Days when ‘Jesus stands next to Muhammad and
brings justice to the world.’”
Oliver thanked Clark for the
heads-up and signed off, taking Maxine aside to fill her in on the new
developments. As they walked past the main office they heard the facility
director yelling into this phone. “How could you have missed it? It’ll take
months for us to get new engines to McMurdo! I guarantee you, someone’s going
to lose his job as a result of this!”
The head mechanic was
standing in the corner of the office. He flinched as the director slammed down
the phone and glowered at him. “I want you to inspect each single compressor
and turban blade in the four engines of our LC-130 personally! It must not
fail to make the flight to the Pole!” The mechanic gulped, nodded that he
would comply, and quickly left the office.
Still angry and red in the
face, the facility director entered the lunchroom and approached Oliver.
“Those fools at McMurdo allowed someone to destroy two of the supply aircraft’s
engines. We have to prepare this last LC-130 for the rescue flight!” Oliver
indicated that he had just received the same news and added that this remaining
air transport may also be attacked in some way. “Not on my watch! My ground
crew is inspecting each engine carefully as we speak, and in the morning we
will begin fueling for the run to McMurdo. I have also increased our guards.”
“We plan to stay up and watch
the aircraft tonight as well. Can you give us a radio so we can contact the
guards if we spot anything?”
“I welcome your help,” said
the director; “I’ll give you a two-way radio that will link you into the
communication network.”
“Thanks.”
By late afternoon darkness
was falling over the airport along with a bitter cold. Oliver, Maxine, and
copilot Paul Brown had settled into chairs in the shadows of the hangar in
plain sight of the two aircraft. The thorough inspection of the LC-130 engines
had revealed no evidence of tampering, which made Oliver even more concerned
about a late attempt at this facility to stop supplies to the South Pole. He
began to go over in his mind the confessions of the Smith brothers.
What
had Spencer told them about Muhammad? Why had he brought non-Christian ideas
into his indoctrination of these two rather simple-minded brothers? Maybe they
had overheard his discussions with the Iranian member, Ibrahim Gilani.
Suddenly it struck Oliver
that the brothers had inadvertently given away the place of the final horrific
event, a nuclear detonation. The holy mosque known as the Dome of the Rock, in
the heart of Jerusalem, is where the teachings of Islam say that on the final
day of judgment Jesus and Muhammad will appear and stand together on the rock
from which, some say, Muhammad was taken up to heaven. From this rock, in the
center of this most holy Mosque, the two prophets would judge the world.
Now I think I have the
place
, Oliver thought to himself,
but
when will the plot come together? There must be a clue hidden in what we have
learned up to this point, but we are running out of time fighting these battles
far from the true site of this devised Armageddon. We must find the three!
Oliver then realized that he
had just repeated Peter’s warning, and was about to say something to Maxine,
when she whispered, “Over at the edge of the field, by those out-buildings, I
thought I saw some movement.”
Oliver and Paul both looked.
Paul, with the eyes of a good Marine aviator and Top Gun pilot, also saw the
dark forms and whispered, “There are two of them, and they’re moving this way
seeking cover just to the left of where we’re sitting.”