Jimmy says, “I can’t see the tree line.”
Just then we hit the top of several trees.
Fortunately, we slid right past them.
Unfortunately, our plane now has a very bad angle on the water.
“Brace for impact. This will not be pretty!” Says Jimmy.
I’m too afraid to cuss, swear or even move.
I grab anything I can find as a wing hits the water first and flips the plane clean onto its back.
We slide across the black water as if the wings are the pontoons.
The hunk of junk stops fairly quickly as we sink silently into the bay.
I try to push my door open but the weight of the water makes it impossible.
As the freezing water fills the cabin and we’re about to die, all I can think about is:
I really, really want to move to someplace warmer!
Cessna 185
Ketchikan Airport
Nine miles south
Altitude: 1,000 feet
MMA is piloting the Cessna with his new beautiful, Russian “wife.” She sits in the other front seat. The pilot is mysteriously missing. MMA’s cell phone goes off and he answers.
He just listens and finds out his friends have just died in a nuke explosion set off by the Russians.
His Russian “wife” is suspicious knowing what probably is happening.
MMA gets off the phone and puts a gun to his wife’s head.
She says,
“You want to see peace on earth don’t you? Then we must work together.” MMA says, “Your people just detonated one of those suitcases and killed my friend. Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your pretty little head?”
She says, “My friend was then killed too.”
This does nothing to change MMA’s mind.
She then desperately says,
“I can show you how to get around the timer.”
MMA uncocks the Glock on her head but keeps it there.
“You better, otherwise we both blow up.”
She nervously reaches around behind her and grabs the suitcase, which is where a dead pilot with a bullet in his head is slouched. She opens the suitcase and says,
“Give me your phone.”
MMA doesn’t really trust her but decides to play along for now. He hands his phone to her.
She gets into a program on her cell phone and types a bunch of numbers.
“There. It’s disarmed and there is no way anybody can rearm it.”
MMA suspicious, “How do we detonate it?”
“I can show you but we need some very specialized software and hardware tools.”
MMA stares at her and decides to let her live.
“Dump him while we’re still over water,” MMA says looking at the dead pilot.
Kendrick Bay Shoreline
Robert Stone’s Diary
Christmas Day
My deputy son, Tony, pulls me out of the water.
Tony, “Did you see Jimmy?”
I say shivering and panicked,
“It was so dark. I felt him next to me. I couldn’t get his belt off. I tried.”
Tony says, “Dad, it’s not your fault. We had no idea all this…”
Tony stopped talking as he realized I wasn’t listening. I am just staring at the upside down plane in the water and taking this really hard realizing our pilot is likely still in the plane, underwater.
After eternity passes I come to my senses and pull out my satellite phone.
I look at it to see if I have a signal and start to shake it when there is nothing.
I then throw it onto the sandy beach right where we stand.
Damn! Damn! Double damn!
Bokan Mountain Mine
A conveyor belt is taking uranium rock uphill inside a small vein and making a considerable amount of noise.
Also making noise are huge pumps sucking massive amounts of water from the bottom of this pit.
Raw uranium is dumped into a crusher that grinds the rock into a powder.
Several workers are busy and don’t see me as I sneak past them to the top of the vein.
I notice workers at the top of this mining operation are all wearing masks as the powder is pushed into a covered large vat. This vat feeds into three smaller vats with horrible smelling chemicals that make the uranium now look like molasses. This is called a liquor.
The liquor is processed again and slowly poured onto a large covered table to be dried. It’s now much, much lighter in color.
What used to take months with heat lamps or centrifuges are blasted with lasers in a matter of seconds.
The finished product is this yellow cakey-like substance (Yellowcake).
I’m shocked as to how all of this sophisticated and heavy equipment could be smuggled into the Unites States of America.
As I continue on, the finished uranium looks bright yellowish and powdery in texture and is 75% pure uranium. Jennifer explained to me later that this uranium 235 is now used in the nuclear reactor power plant deep in the mountain.
I felt like I was in a dream.
This can’t be happening in the United States of America!
Anyway Jen said, the uranium 235 is then converted into weapons grade plutonium 239 after it is forced through fuel rods in the nuke reactor.
We found out later what was being created here by a new and more efficient process was Supergrade plutonium (99% Pu-239).
The reason for the supergrade was due to the close, nearly sealed quarters everyone was working in here, the Russians didn’t want their employees to have any more radiation exposure than absolutely necessary.
How thoughtful! I said to myself.
No one notices, as the workers all have their backs to me.
As I make my way back to The Factory walkway I have to stop and catch my breath.
The toxins in the yellowcake room alone probably just took a year off my life.
To my lungs it doesn’t feel like this area is safe at all.
So I try to get out as fast as possible.
I make it past two Russian GRU guards, speaking English.
They carry on a conversation about those beautiful women they were ordered not to touch.
As I walk into The Factory room I notice a large presence of scientists all in NBC suits.
You don’t wear this type of suit unless serious nuclear, biological, or chemicals are present. They are scurrying around the work floor all in a big hurry.
It looks like they are trying to fill a whole bunch of suitcases with “aluminum parts.”
They are working fast!
I head down the hall where I left Jennifer.
As I enter the warehouse room where I left her, I notice the barrels have been moved.
I panic as Jennifer is not there.
So I start frantically searching through the entire warehouse thinking maybe she’s hiding somewhere else in the room but Jennifer is nowhere to be found.
Then I remember, I also left the suitcase with a million dollars right by her. Maybe she left with it to Bora Bora, I joke with myself.
Myself didn’t “lol.”
However, myself did shout at me saying:
LOL? I HATE THAT!
Stop it, JD. Pay attention.
The backdoor ventilation system Al showed me into this place is locked and, without a key,
I’m stumped as I stand for a minute thinking,
She better not have been caught.
I double check the ventilation grate we came into this room with Al but with heavy steel bars there is no way to pry this open.
I head for the warehouse door I just came in and peer out.
Seeing no one, I exit.
As I sneak down the hall I stop, as I near The Factory room again.
Just as I’m about to cross the 2nd story walkway a gun is pushed into my shoulder blades.