“So?” she said. “What does that have to do with us? Surely we’re not letting Iranians deal with it.”
“Yes,” he said sarcastically, “everyone here is eager to tell Mahmoud Ahmadinejad that the weapon of mass destruction he’s always wanted is just waiting for him a few miles off his coast.”
“Then what are we doing?” she asked. “If there’s no assault team, and we’re not going to involve the Iranians …”
“The navy’s going to hit the island with a spread of Tomahawks,” Moore said. “It’s a presidential order.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes from now.”
She took a breath. “What about the hostages?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Obviously they’ll be lost if they’re on-site.”
Silence rang on the line and Danielle glanced over at Hawker. He could hear every word. He hadn’t reacted, almost as if he suspected it would go this way.
She felt for him. She understood why the president would make the decision Moore had attributed to him, and sentiment was not going to override that. But there were logical reasons not to blindly obliterate the island.
“What if the cult isn’t there?” she said. “What if these are just some squatters? We’re going to end up thinking we’ve saved the world only to get sucker-punched one day.”
“We can establish that after the fact.”
“After you blow the island to hell?” she said. “Do you think there will be enough left to establish anything? Do you think the Iranians are going to say, ‘Hey, go ahead put some inspectors on our island, why not? Nice of you to blow it up for us in the first place’?”
Moore responded with evidence. “The freighter wasn’t there six months ago,” he said. “We’ve tracked it to an undisclosed buyer in Singapore. It was dumped for scrap. It should be in pieces somewhere getting melted down, not jammed up on the beach of an Iranian island in the Gulf. This is the site, we’re sure of it. And after what we’ve learned no one’s taking any chances.”
Danielle knew he was right, but she could only think of the heartbreak, and not just Hawker’s.
“The virus Ranga created can be used for good,” she said. “You know that. It could lead to all kinds of treatments, things that are just theoretical right now. You destroy that ship, you destroy the research.”
“Better than a worldwide catastrophe,” he said.
“And if they have another base?”
He hesitated.
“Come on, Arnold. There’s a reason the CDC keeps anthrax and smallpox and other nasty germs on hand, because we need to research them and understand them in case something happens. This ship is our only chance to get ahold of 951 and the Eden virus. Our only chance to understand them. You blow it to ashes and the next time we see a virus like this, it’ll be too late for everyone.”
“Danielle, I know all this,” Moore said, sounding exhausted. “I’ve spent the last hour making the same arguments to the president and his staff, but one concern overrides all the others. According to your prisoner they have missiles. Unless they’re extremely short-range that puts Kuwait, southern Iraq, and most of the Gulf in the red zone. One missile, one dispersal, and it’s all over.”
The weight of the truth pressed her down like a heavy stone on grass. She felt spent, exhausted, defeated. She couldn’t even think of another argument.
After days of fighting with Hawker, Moore, and Yousef, after traveling from Washington to Croatia to Paris to Beirut and then Iraq, she had nothing left, especially since she knew Moore was right.
Moore sensed it. “I appreciate everything you and Hawker have done,” he said. “But direct from the president, you’re both to stand down.”
The buffeting sound returned. It took all she had to speak another word. “Anything else?”
“Please tell Hawker I’m sorry,” Moore said.
“I will,” she said, and then she clicked off and Moore was gone.
On the speeding boat in the Persian Gulf, she placed the phone down and turned to Hawker.
“You don’t even have to say it,” he said.
“I’m so sorry,” she told him.
“They do what they have to,” he said, sounding oddly at peace with the order.
She could guess why. “You’re still going in,” she said.
He nodded.
“Then I’m going with you.”
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “It’s not your fight.”
“Your fight is my fight,” she said. “Besides, this is my job. They bomb that place to hell without any idea what’s there and we’ll never know if we’ve dodged a bullet or if it just hasn’t been fired yet.”
Hawker nodded, then looked past her. “Keegan, you want us to drop you over the side with a life jacket or two?”
Keegan looked back from the helm as if Hawker had lost his mind. “You know I can’t bloody well swim,” he said.
“You grew up on an island,” Hawker replied. “You were a Royal Marine. Last I heard marine means something to do with the water.”
“What can I tell you,” Keegan said. “Standards were lower back then. Besides, the chance to violate Iranian sovereignty for a second time in two days absolutely intrigues me. I don’t think it’s ever been done. We could be legends. I could retire, put on fifty kilos and still get free pints at every pub in London if I had that feather in my cap.”
Hawker chuckled and squinted into the distance. “So it’s the three of us against whatever they have waiting.” He turned back to her. “How many guys do you think they have?”
Danielle exhaled. “Knowing our luck, at least a hundred or so.”
The absurdity of it brought a smile to Hawker’s face. He began to laugh. Keegan did, too. And Danielle joined in, giggling at her own joke.
“Poor bastards,” Keegan said. “They don’t stand a chance.”
CHAPTER 49
Having given the order, Arnold Moore waited. With his eyes closed, and his tie long gone, he tried to relax. News would come eventually. Whether good or bad, it would come. He didn’t have to go looking for it now.
He opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. Fourteen minutes remained until the air strike. In the silence and the dark, each second seemed like an eternity.
The phone rang, startling him. He focused on the small glowing numerals above the keypad and recognized Danielle’s coding.
He hit the speaker button.
“We’re a mile from the island,” she said, before he could utter a word. “We see no activity.”
Moore leaned forward. “What the hell are you doing, Danielle?”
“I’m sorry, Arnold,” she said. “But we’re going in.”
He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Then again he almost expected it.
“We’ll be on the island in less than a minute,” she said. “I just wanted you to know.”
“Goddamn it!” he shouted. “Don’t do this, Danielle! It’s suicide. It’s a violation of—”
She cut him off. “Once upon a time, you violated every rule, order, and directive you’d been given to come get me. You turned to Hawker when no one else would help. I’m not letting him down now that it’s our turn.”
She spoke calmly, with certainty, and Moore felt his throat tighten. He had no response that could stand the light of scrutiny. He’d done exactly what she’d said. He also knew there was no way for this to end well.
“We have some weapons,” she said. “We’ll do what we can to take them by surprise. But …”
“But what?”
“We’ve been one step behind this whole time and if this goes sideways and we disappear … then by all means, please obliterate that island as planned.”