“That looks very convincing. What’s the time difference between the wall cutting and the column cutting?” asked Planner.
“Not long, we have to watch carefully and make sure the building does not start to warp. As soon as it loses shape, we lose control,” said Digger.
“Right. That’s great. But there’s a lot of new technology in there. Will it work?” said Planner.
Digger smiled. “We’ve tried it all out separately and together. It’ll work. The main problem we have… is the minimum amount of explosive to do the job. We have too much at the moment; the explosions could send debris over to New Jersey! But, of course too little explosives and the building may not come down at all.”
* * * *
Sometime later in his hotel room, Planner sat tinkering with the Nastran software on his laptop computer. He took a bite of a sandwich while running the simulation again. He had reduced the amount of explosives and only half of the building fell according to the simulation. Planner pulled an unhappy face.
Chapter Ten: Snow White
A few days later, Turq entered Planner’s office, carrying, very gingerly in front of her, a brief case. Planner looked up from his charts.
“Fort Detrick have delivered,” she said.
“In there?” Planner said incredulous.
“Yes. It’s safe,” said Turq unconvincingly as she held the case away from her body. “A dozen doses ranging from inert, two types of non-lethal and then… er… upwards. I’ve been given instructions. Verbally.”
“Wow”
“So shall I pass them over to the Eagle Team? I don’t want this hanging around,” said Turq.
Planner said, “Sure. But er… wait. Can you open it up?”
Turq set it down on the desk and delicately opened case. It had two combination locks. Inside the brief case were ten vials strapped to the case interior, each containing a gray powder. Each vial had a sticker with a hand written number.
“Which are the non-lethal?” asked Planner.
“The ones marked zero.”
“And there’s a minus one?”
“That’s inert,” said Turq. “Completely safe.”
“And the others are four, five and six?”
“That’s the expected body count,” sighed Turq.
Planner took a vial marked zero. “I have a favour to ask. Can you sprinkle some of the non-lethal material in the hijackers accommodation? To provide an evidence trail?95”
Turq at first did not accept the vial, “They’re in Florida,” she said.
“Right,” smiled Planner, still holding the vial outstretched.
Turq reluctantly took the vial, “I’ll need an excuse to go.”
Planner suggested, “To introduce the extra hijackers maybe?”
“More figments of our fevered imagination,” sighed Turq.
“Right. In the meantime, I’ll take this to Eagle. I presume I don’t have to sign for it,” said Planner.
“No,” said Turq dismissively. “Which reminds me… what do you want done with that non-disclosure form from Fort Detrick?”
Planner gave a half a smile, “Shred it!”
* * * *
As Planner walked from his office, Bates broke-off a conversation with another Rainbow Team member and ran to catch up with Planner.
“Turq says this is it,” said Bates, indicating the brief case, walking along side.
“Yes,” said Planner.
“Where are you storing it?” asked Bates.
“Taking it to Eagle.”
“There’s something you should know first,” said Bates.
Planner stopped and turned towards Bates, “Oh?”
“One of the Eagle team died last night,” said Bates
“One of the guys we met? Which one?”
“Yes, Brown. The complainer. Poor attitude,” Bates explained.
“How?” asked Planner.
“Lost control of his car going downhill. Just a few miles from his home,” said Bates.
“Uh… Uh,” Planner was unable to speak.
“Tough huh?” said Bates. “Well, I guess, after Princess Diana, brake failure is the new black.96”
“Uh… Uh,” Planner was still unable to speak as he made a connection and started to consider his wife’s death not as an accident but as an assassination.
“Are you ok?” said Bates worried.
Planner offered the brief case to Bates, “Can you take this?”
“To Eagle? Sure. Are you ok? Can I get you something?”
“Er… no. Can you…?”
“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Bates took the case and hurried off.
Planner returned to his office and sunk down; head in his hands. Planner considered a murderous sequence of events surrounding the deaths of his wife and daughter; they drove down a sloping road; spied by an assassin, who takes over the steering by remote control; driving the car through a weaken barrier. Planner remembered the plans for such a devices in CIA archives; how, under radio command, it would activate by an explosive bolt to turn the wheel sharply and then lock the steering; made from plastic and designed to melt within its own self created fire, it would be undetectable to investigators; the perfect murder weapon. He visualised his wife struggling with the steering wheel and his daughter crying out, as it tumbled off the road; He visualised the car bursting into flames. Why would she be murdered? Was he the target? Was he being paranoid?
Bates returned promptly and touched Planner on the shoulder. Planner looked up surprised, having not heard him approach.
“All done,” said Bates.
“Thanks,” said Planner with effort.
“I told them to store it. We’d give them instructions on how to use the material later.”
“Good,” said Planner looking down again.
Bates said, “Are you ok? You look as though you had a bit of a turn?”
“Probably all the hotel food… mixed with the news you gave me. Seems to have upset my stomach.”
“Stomach? Right,” said Bates sarcastically. “That’s what it looked like.” Then Bates considered another thought, “Those vials were all sealed, weren’t they?”
“It’s not the anthrax,” said Planner, looking up.
“I think we should get you tested,” said Bates.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Well if you’re sure you’re sure, Ok. So are you ready for Snow White?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, seriously. Can you give me a minute and then we’ll be off,” said Planner, regaining his composure as Bates looked on with concern.
* * * *
Operation Snow White had the best offices of any of the operations. It looked more like a hotel lobby than an office. The North Tower of the World Trade Center dominated the view from the window.
Mr Snow looked like an aging diplomat, suited, slim with white hair. Snow was accompanied by Digger who looked out of place with the fine, white leather upholstered seating. Snow showed Planner and Bates to two such comfortable chairs. There was a map of the USA on the wall and a pile of Disneyesque cartoon characters in a pile on a low table.
“Yes, I’m Snow White,” he said smoothly. “But I don’t hang out in the woods and talk to birds.”
“Do you have to watch out in the Big Apple though?” joked Bates.
“Ha! Ha!” he laughed unconvincingly. “Only for the poisonous bits; I try avoid such places. Oh, and this is my operations man, Digger.”
Planner shook his hand “We’ve met. Have you been able to check out my suggestions on the Nastran model?”
“Indeed. Very useful, Mr Planner,” Digger said enthusiastically, as only an Irishman can. “We’ve been able to reduce the amount of explosive. Very useful.”