CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN
COLORADO SPRINGS, CO
10 NOV 2011, 19:43 MST
“Okay, run that by me again. Why is the president being awake a problem? For that matter, why was he napping on Looking Glass?”
Agent Brown shook his head. “Not napping. Comatose. He’s been in a coma for the past two years.”
“Two years?” cried General Shepard.
“He hasn’t been seen in public since the Detroit debacle. He went there to survey the damage. Everyone else on the plane died.”
“How the hell did he survive?”
“The co-pilot lasted longer than most, and set the autopilot to return to base and land. The FBI doesn’t have much information on what happened after that, the records of the examinations were destroyed, and all the bodies incinerated.”
“Why is this the first I’m hearing of this? Wait, that can’t be right, President Edwards has given two State of the Union speeches since then.”
“Those appearances were on a carefully controlled set, with a very good imitator.”
The General shook his head. “That’s insane. We haven’t had a CIC for the past two years? Who’s been running the show?”
Brown shrugged. “The usual power struggle between us, the NSA, and various other power groups in DC. With all kinds of subtle mind control spells making it even more tangled as to who is really working for who. Except that tonight’s moves have been more open, and a lot of players are off the stage. I assume that’s why the FBI headquarters in DC got raided. Fortunately, that’s not our only power base.”
“And that’s why we’re hiding in the Cheyenne bunker? So you can maintain FBI control?”
“There are patriots among the players. Fewer than I’d like, but many more than the conspirators can handle quietly. It’ll be interesting to see who’s left standing tomorrow.”
“That’s cold.”
Agent Brown met the General’s gaze levelly. “You are career military. You’ve been prepared all your life to make sacrifices for the good of this nation. You are not alone in this.”
“Innocent people are getting caught up in this mess,” growled the General. “Those people in Glendale weren’t part of this.”
“Some of the players are sacrificing others for their own personal gain. Are you going to let that stop you from doing what must be done?”
The General’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Good. Maybe we’ll live through this night, then.”
*** *** ***
SMITHSONIAN NATIONAL MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY
WASHINGTON, DC
10 NOV 2011, 22:13 EST
Donna’s chatter with Gwen died down as the Smithsonian came into view below. “We’re here.”
“Okay,” replied Gwen over their link. “I’ll leave you to it. Remember all the sparklies for me, will you?”
“Of course,” replied Duncan idly, their mind focussed on the room full of gems below. One quick teleport put them just outside the display hall. The hall was layered thick in wards and security systems of a dozen different types. Most of the mundane systems were not designed to deal with a thumb-sized hovering crystal, the only ones of concern to Duncan were the optical and infrared cameras. They fabricated a set of projectors that glowed with the images that the cameras would otherwise see, and popped them in front of the cameras between frames.
The wards on the entry were easy enough to twist out of the way, at least enough to blink past them. Donna took a moment to gaze around the hall. Even in the dim security light, the gems glittered and gleamed. To their sensitized sight, the room positively glowed with rainbows.
Duncan nudged their attention toward the crystal sphere in its separate display stand. The warding spell was much like those on the other cases, but wrapped around something more subtle. If they weren’t here for this specific goal, they’d have been nudged to look elsewhere. It wasn’t strong enough to make their shields engage, just a very low grade ‘this is not the orb you’re looking for’.
“No wonder it was safe in plain sight.”
They studied the complex interplay of the protective wards for a time, and concurred that they only served to prevent opening the case or removing the orb. There was a teleportation barrier layered into the spells, apparently of the same design for all the cases. It was woven fine, but there was room for something the size of a grain of sand to pass. Duncan suspected Walt used the same vulnerability to access the orb, and perhaps may have arranged for its presence.
They shrunk small enough to pass the teleport ward, and blinked inside the case. There they could finally feel the true power of the orb, laid before them in its (relative) immensity.
It was shot through with enchantments, built up layer by layer over a span of time that staggered their imagination. Every turning of magic was represented in its layers. Even the most recent turning had been layered in, Walt’s work had built upon an earlier structure laid down two millennia before, that some ancient had added.
Trying to figure out where to even start with modifying the stone would require a comprehensive examination of all the rest, and Duncan dove into the project with gusto.
*** *** ***
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN
COLORADO SPRINGS, CO
10 NOV 2011, 20:17 MST
“Target has definitely stopped. Readings have dropped, but Faulkner is definitely inside the Smithsonian.”
“The McGuffin he’s after was there? Wouldn’t that be a bit obvious?”
Agent Brown shook his head. “Hidden in plain sight. It’d make it easy for Walt to get to it, and that room is locked up tighter than anything he’d manage on his own.”
“I don’t like it. None of the DC defences reacted. Why not?”
“Sir?”
“Find out why not. Is something wrong?”
The tech worked on the question for a time. “That’s not good.”
“What?”
“Maintenance cycle. The whole grid is down.”
“What the hell are they playing at? We’re at Defcon 2!”
The Defcon klaxon took that moment to blare, and the board ticked up to Defcon 1. “Well, that’s gone and torn it. What happened?” asked the General.
“The President just ordered the launch of a cruise missile. Sir, it’s targeted on Faulkner’s location!”
“Sweet Jesus. That’ll take out the capital. Why the hell would Stratcom agree to that?”
“Because they’ve been subverted by a cabal of your enemies,” said Brown, matter-of-factly.
“Can you stop them?”
Brown shook his head. “It’s too late for that.”
The General narrowed his eyes at the FBI Agent he’d been saddled with. “What aren’t you saying?”
“I have something that can shut them down. But with Looking Glass in the air, it won’t do any good.”
“Impact in fourteen minutes,” reported the tech monitoring the flight of the missile.
“Can anything intercept it? There has to be something in the air...”
“Checking... nothing but commercial birds in the air south of DC, sorry.”
“What about Faulkner? He took out our planes, he can stop a cruise missile.”
“If he knows it’s there,” added Brown dourly, staring at his phone.
“So use that magic phone of yours to warn him!”
“What do you think I’m trying to do? I have to link through Agent Cooper, and he’s not answering. This is a lousy time to go AWOL, Coop. Come on...”
*** *** ***
DISNEYLAND – MAIN GATE
ORANGE COUNTY, CA
10 NOV 2011, 19:24 PST
“Look, this entire site is an active FBI situation. We’ll be clear in a few hours, but until then you can’t come in,” said Agent Cooper, with the dogged voice of someone who is very tired of repeating himself.
“And there’s a fallout plume that’s going to render tens of thousands of people homeless, if not hundreds of thousands,” repeated the national guard commander Cooper had been dealing with for some time.
“That’s as may be. But the fact of the matter is you have no authority to do this, and by the time you go get that authority, I’ll probably be out of your hair. Go do your paperwork, and let me do my job in peace.”
“People are going to die if they don’t get shelter.”
“Then go set up some tents in the parking lot and let me get back to my job.”
“I could bring in enough forces to make your objections moot.”
Cooper narrowed his eyes at the man. “Not after the losses you took at the border.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I know that it was the work of a single person. They came here after the border. Do you really want to push me on this?”
“He’s here?” asked the guardsman, face going ashen.
“No. But his family still is. So until the situation stabilizes and I can get them somewhere safer, stay out. You do not want to cross someone who can survive getting nuked.”
“That can... what? Wait that’s what the nuke was about?”
“Yes, and it failed. Go bother someone else, we’re busy.” Agent Cooper turned away, though part of his attention was still on the officious annoyance. He was relieved to realize the other man was walking away as well.
Cooper dug his phone out of his pocket, it had been vibrating in a most annoying manner for half of the conversation. “What is so urgent, Brown?”
“There’s a nuke headed toward Faulkner. And he’s in Washington, DC.”
“So shoot it down.”
“We can’t. The President ordered the defences to stand down, and we can’t get anything in the way in time. He’s our only shot at saving the capital.”
“And might get somewhat crankier if nuked a second time tonight.”
“That too.”
“I’ll pass it along. Which way should they look?”
“South. About nine minutes left.”
“Lots of time. I hope. I’ll get on it.”
Agent Cooper pulled out Gwen’s comm crystal and tapped it. “Hello? Gwen? Are you there?”
There was no response. He tried touching a little power to it, and it glowed. A moment later Gwen’s voice chimed from it. “Sorry, I was enjoying the scenery on the way home. What’s up?”
“Another nuke. Headed toward DC. You’ve got to get Faulkner to stop it.”
“That... might be tricky. I know what they get like when they get stuck into a problem. The rest of the world goes away, almost literally. Is there anyone you can send to the museum?”
“Probably not. Our office in DC got raided, everyone scattered. I’ll put out an alert and see what we can do. You’re our best hope, you know them best. Can you try?”
“I’m three thousand klicks away and they’re not listening. I’ve already tried twenty times while we’ve been talking, it’s like Donna’s not even there.”
“Perhaps the third personality?” suggested Cooper.
“No go. I’ll head that way, but... damn. I don’t know how they do it. Every time I get above Mach 3, something spots me and I have to duck down again. It’s really annoying. I don’t suppose you can get whatever that is turned off?”
“I’ll see what I can do. Keep trying.”
Cooper tapped his phone, and pulled up a very heavily warded sigil. “Sorry guys, but if you’re hiding in DC you’re probably already screwed. Revealing your location won’t make it worse.” He hesitated a moment to compose his words, then powered the sigil up.
“Acting Director Cooper to all remaining agents. Washington DC is under nuclear attack. If any of you are near the Smithsonian gem exhibit, please head there and try to contact Faulkner. Anyone else, get as far clear as you can. You have... seven minutes. Move!”
Cooper released the sigil, then stared at his phone, praying for some kind of answer. A moment later, it lit up with a call from one Agent Klatten. Cooper had a vague recollection of the man, but they’d met at a large Bureau event and hadn’t had time to talk. “Cooper here. Where are you?”
“In the steam tunnels under the Smithsonian. I may be able to get to the exhibit, heading there now. What do I need to do?”
“Are you aware of what Project M really does?”
“Uh... no?”
“Bother. Just get to the exhibit, and call me back when you get there.”
Agent Cooper pinged Gwen again. “I’ve got someone trying to get close, but... they’re not magical. Their phone is, so I can try, but it’s...”
“I know. I’m yelling at her, and nothing. Going to try a Hail Mary. Can you give me permission to cross the border?”
“Granted,” said Agent Cooper. “For what it’s worth.”
“It’ll do.”
*** *** ***
OVER FERNIE
BC, CANADA
10 NOV 2011, 19:25 PST
Gwen finished creating the ballistic rocket, and loaded herself in the tip. “I hope this works...” An enormous gout of flame lanced out of the back, sending her ride arcing high into the sky.
*** *** ***
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN
COLORADO SPRINGS, CO
10 NOV 2011, 20:27 MST
“Tracking a ballistic launch out of... Canada? It appears to be headed toward the east coast, but it’ll miss DC by a couple hundred miles.”
“The hell? What are they up to? See if you can’t raise someone who can tell me what the hell is going on.”
A minute later, Agent Brown had an answer for him. “It’s Faulkner’s friend, Gwen Haywood. Unfortunately, there’s an interceptor headed her way.”
“Seriously? Warn her!”
Brown patched through to Cooper, and fed tracking information on to Gwen. The interceptor vanished moments before impact.
“Thanks for the warning,” called Gwen. “Am I on track?”
“Not quite, you need to veer about a degree to the south. A little more... yeah, that’s the ticket.” Brown waved to the tech tracking Gwen. “What’s the ETA on our friend?”
“20:34. She’s going to be late to the party.”
“If you’ve got any way to go faster, use it.”
Gwen promised to do what she could.
Brown met the General’s gaze once the call was over. “It’s going to be close. Too damn close.”
“Damn. Get me the hotline to the Russians. I expect they’re getting nervous.”
*** *** ***
SMITHSONIAN NATIONAL MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY
WASHINGTON, DC
10 NOV 2011, 22:31 EST
Agent Klatten hit the door to the exhibit hall with his shoulder. It didn’t budge. A security guard ran up to him. “Hey, you shouldn’t be here.”
Klatten flashed his badge. “It is of utmost importance that I get into that hall. Can you open the door?”
The guard shook his head. “Not for you, not for anyone. That room is time-locked, and we’ve all been warned never to even touch the door at night. Are you OK?”
Klatten glanced at the shoulder of his suit, which appeared to be slightly charred. “I’m fine. But we won’t be if we can’t get in there. Is there really nothing you can do?”
The guard shook his head. “Sorry. Even the director of the Museum can’t open those doors before eight o’clock.”
Klatten pulled his service pistol, ignored the guard’s warning, and fired at the door. A discharge of electricity knocked the gun from his hand, and the door was unharmed.
“I told you it’s sealed!”
Klatten hit the speed dial on his phone. “Cooper. I’m at the entrance, but this place is sealed up by something crazy.”
“Can you see a big round crystal?” asked Cooper.
“Yeah.”
“Point your phone at it. And Klatten?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
The phone exploded, sending a pulse of power toward the hall. Unfortunately, it just deflected off the wards.
*** *** ***
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN
COLORADO SPRINGS, CO
10 NOV 2011, 20:32 MST
“Sir! They’ve got an antimissile battery online. Target acquired... interceptor away!” He hesitated for a moment. “Confirmed kill, two miles... northwest of the city.”
The General cringed. “That would be target Haywood?”
“I suspect so.”
“Can they track the cruise missile?”
“No, but they could try a ballistic shot.”
“Do what you can.”
*** *** ***
TWO MILES NORTHWEST OF WASHINGTON, DC
10 NOV 2011, 22:32:23 EST
Gwen ejected herself from the tumbling wreckage of her vehicle, and stared helplessly toward the city. So close, and yet so far... She darted forward as fast as she could manage. As the countdown rang through the crystal link to Cooper, she started hammering on her connection to Donna, sending blasts of power down it.
*** *** ***
POTOMAC RIVER
WASHINGTON, DC
10 NOV 2011, 22:32:37 EST
The cruise missile’s trajectory had been planned years before, as part of a contingency exercise with a curious degree of similarity to the night’s events. It cruised low over the Potomac, using the mass of the Smithsonian Castle to hide it from its target’s senses. That said target’s deep distraction completely obviated all that planning was one of life’s little ironies.
Just before reaching the office building housing the US Department of Energy, and – also ironically – the National Nuclear Security Administration, it pulled up sharply, clearing the roofline by only a few feet.
Unfortunately for all that careful planning, an experimental antenna mast had been placed on the roof the week before, and neatly sheared off the missile’s left wing. The cacophony was enough to wake the dead...
But not Donna.
The missile cartwheeled through the air.
Inside the museum, Donna finally awoke from her trance. “Gwen?”
“Fast time, NOW!”
Dia’s mind raced ahead of the others. “What?”
“NUKE!”
Their attention turned toward the south, and the noise coming from there. A brilliant light was already blossoming, brighter than the Sun.
*** *** ***
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN
COLORADO SPRINGS, CO
10 NOV 2011, 20:33:07 MST
NDS DETONATION REPORT
LAT 38.8912 LONG -77.0283 AGL 0.00 MI [WASHINGTON,DC,US 1.1MI SE]
YIELD 00150 kT MATCH W84-Y5 93%