“No, no, no! Forget coordinated efforts. Right now LayerCake is scouring the web, emails, forums, chat rooms, and probably half the secure servers on the planet for any hint of something like this. It’s like Santa. It’s watching everything, everybody. And you want to try to coordinate thousand of people and get every one to keep his mouth shut? You’re thinking completely wrong. Not every problem can be solved with a huge hammer.”

“If we’re thinking wrong,” Smith said. “Then help us think right.”

“I’m bleeding again. Bleeding…”

His ability to focus was just going to get worse as his medication continued to wear off. They could stop and fill a prescription but then his mind would turn lethargic for the next couple of hours. Not something they could afford.

“You’re fine, Marty. Now tell me what we’re missing.”

“You’ll yell at me because you won’t like it.”

“I promise I won’t yell at you.”

“And you won’t have someone shoot me again.”

“Marty…”

“Fine. Electromagnetic pulse.”

Randi actually laughed. “Are you suggesting we airburst a bunch of nukes and fry the world’s grids?”

“Told you you wouldn’t like it. Besides, I’m not sure it helps. With no power, how do you warn everyone to turn off their units before the lights come back on? Carrier pigeon?” His gaze turned far away. “How many birds would that take? Seven billion people in the world. Pigeons average about eighty kilometers per hour. What’s the total land area of the earth? About a hundred and fifty million square kilometers, right?”

Fred Klein was still listening on the speakerphone and weighed in while Zellerbach got lost in his math problem. “I’m afraid I have to agree, Jon. Even with the NSA fully behind you, it’s not doable. And the process of getting the NSA behind you wouldn’t escape Dresner’s notice. All risk, no return.”

Smith was suddenly reminded of a television show he’d once seen on the Rapture and how Dresner had, in his twisted way, taken on the role of God. Any minute now, millions of people could just collapse, leaving his innocents to stand in stunned silence.

And then what? Piles of rotting bodies. The destabilization of governments and economies across the globe. Mass graves. But would the seemingly inevitable chaos ensue? Or would all the potential creators of that chaos be dead?

His phone beeped with an incoming call and Smith looked at the screen, eyes widening. “I have an incoming call, sir. You’re not going to believe this, but the ID says it’s from Christian Dresner.”

“Dresner?” Klein said, obviously equally surprised. “Go ahead and conference him in. He can’t track me. I’m connected through a coffee shop in Cambodia.”

Smith reached out, hesitating for a moment before picking up. “Hello?”