Hood suggested that Herbert and Rodgers return to their offices to see if there was any other intelligence they could dig up. He would notify them as soon as Coffey called.

As they left, Hood looked at the photo of Harleigh and Alexander on his desk. He wished he could roll back the clock ten minutes. The responsibility of fighting nuclear terrorism was an unimaginable burden. The price of failure would be appalling.

Still, whether Hood wanted it or not, that responsibility might be his. Hopefully, this would prove to be something far less dire than he could imagine.

SEVEN - Sydney, Australia Thursday, 10:01 A.M.

SEVEN

Sydney, Australia Thursday, 10:01 A.M.

It was like talking to stone.

When Lowell Coffey did not get the service, respect, or answers he was looking for, his inclination was to stand and fight. Quietly, but with unshakable determination. Jaguar dealers or presidents, it did not matter.

This was a rare exception.

Coffey and Penny arrived at the domestic cargo terminal. It was a vast, low-lying building that looked as if it had been built in the 1960s. It was situated away from the main terminal area. Penny parked the pickup among rows of semis with container rigs. They walked to the front office, which sat just inside the main hangar. There they were met by a petty officer from the MIC. He was a fresh-faced kid whose name tag said Lady. That name must have got him teased a lot more than Date. Coffey judged him to be about twenty-five. The petty officer checked Coffey’s passport, thanked him for coming, and said he would show the attorney to the aircraft. He removed a small point-to-point radio from his belt. Lady was pleasant, efficient, and uninformative. Unacceptably so. Coffey refused to follow the young man into the hangar.

“Petty Officer Lady, before I board the aircraft, I would appreciate some information,” Coffey said. “Specifically, I’d like to know why I’m going with you.” He had to speak loudly to be heard over the forklifts that were moving barrels and containers.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the young man replied. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Then I can’t go with you,” Coffey insisted.

“No, sir. I mean I can’t tell you because I don’t know,” Lady said. “What I can do, sir, is put you in touch with my CO if you’d like. But I can assure you that he doesn’t know anything more than I do. This is a Level Alpha operation. Information is on a need-to-know basis.”

“Well, I need to know, and so do my superiors,” Coffey said. He held up his cell phone and wiggled it back and forth. “What do I tell them?”