So the Libyans couldn’t release the prisoners, Patrick thought grimly. It was impossible. The news report said some of the prisoners were tortured. The Libyans couldn’t allow the world to see that. So they planted a nuclear device into one of the buses and set it to go off just as the prisoners were being off-loaded. All of the evidence of what they had done would be wiped clean. They would of course deny they had anything to do with the nuclear detonation.

Wendy .. . my God, Wendy ...

Zuwayy was going to pay for this, Patrick vowed. He was going to die, brutally and messily. He was going to rip his beating heart out of his chest and rub it in his face.

The air felt electrified, as if every movement of his body caused thousands of static electric shocks that were growing in intensity. Patrick knew that if he stuck around much longer, the shocks would eventually kill him.

Patrick reluctantly turned his back on what was once Egypt’s largest military base outside Cairo and headed southwest, toward a rendezvous with his men. As he drove, he felt nothing—no anger, no weariness, no hatred, and no sadness. The battle had been fought, and he had lost.

CHAPTER 6

WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM,
 WASHINGTON, D.C.

A FEW HOURS LATER

The detailed briefing had just concluded, and the men and women present sat in stunned silence as the room lights were brought back up. The Air Force intelligence officer that gave the briefing was dismissed, leaving behind the members of President Thomas Nathaniel Thom’s “National Security Council.” Although the Thom administration did not have a formal NSC, Thom met with Vice President Lester Busick, Secretary of Defense Robert Goff, Secretary of State Edward Kercheval, Director of Central Intelligence Douglas Morgan, and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Richard Venti to discuss any military developments.

“Damned brutal attack,” Secretary of Defense Robert Goff remarked. In his mid-fifties, with a round face and compact frame, Goff was normally energetic and animated, even jovial—but the briefing he had just received left his features cold, hard, and angry. “What kind of a sick bastard does this?”

“Someone who obviously did not want to leave any traces of evidence behind,” Vice President Lester Busick offered. He turned to General Venti. “What did our reconnaissance folks report, General?”

“Space Command recorded the explosion from geosynchronous satellite infrared sensors,” Venti explained. “Based on radiation and photon levels, the Command is estimating between a-point-five-and two-kiloton device—a so-called ‘backpack’ nuke, probably from a nuclear artillery round or torpedo warhead. It appears to have been an enhanced radiation device, what we call a neutron bomb—designed to kill humans but leave buildings and vehicles intact. Probably fired from a small artillery piece or large mortar mounted in a truck. It did its work very, very effectively.”

“Radiation? Fallout?”