Marvin smiles, patting him affectionately on the cheek. “You’re a nice kid, Mick, but like your old man, you’re just a little meshuga. Now listen carefully. Turn left and follow this access corridor as far as you can go. You’ll reach a stairwell that will lead you up three flights to the main deck. There’s a hangar located in the stern. Inside, lying on the floor, are the bodies of the victims who died aboard the oil rig. Grab yourself an empty body bag, climb in, and wait. Within thirty minutes, an EVAC chopper is due to arrive to transport the dead to the airport in Merida. After that, you’re on your own.”

“Thanks—wait, what about Dominique?”

“Your girlfriend’s doing better, but she’s in no condition to travel. Do you want me to get her a message?”

“Please. Tell her that I’m going to see this thing through.”

“Where will you go?”

“You really want to know that?”

“Probably not. Better get going, eh, before they lock us both up.”

Southern Australia

Ambassador Becker stares out her window, listening intently to the conversation taking place in the back of the helicopter between the delegates from the Russian Federation, China, and France. Spencer Botchin, the representative from the United Kingdom, leans over to whisper into her ear. “Had to be the French. I just pray they weren’t foolish enough to sell it to the Iranians.”

She nods in agreement, whispering, “They wouldn’t have tested the weapon without support from Russia and the Chinese.”

It is late in the afternoon by the time the chopper arrives over southern Australia. Barbara Becker stares out her window, the sight below literally causing her skin to tingle.

The landscape is an enormous charred pit, a sizzling depression running as far and as wide as the eye can see.

Karl Brandt slides in next to her. “Three days ago, the elevation of the geography you’re looking at was 133 feet above sea level. Now, in most places, it barely reaches higher than five feet.”

“How the hell could something have vaporized so much rock?”

Steve Taber pauses from assisting Dr. Martinez into the lead body suit. “Judging by the crater we’re looking at, I’d say the device had to have been a subsurface explosion of incredible magnitude.”

Brandt slips into his radiation suit and zippers the hood. “The tanks on these suits will provide us with thirty minutes of air.”

Dr. Martinez struggles to give him a thumbs-up in the heavy gloves. Taber hands his associate the Geiger counter. “Marty, are you sure you don’t want me down there with you?”

“I can handle it.”