Shooting Star
Prologue
Russia – Undisclosed Nuclear Disposal Facility – 12:30 am
Phillip carefully removed the last bolt holding the warhead onto the rocket. He set his tools aside and motioned his assistant to slowly back the dolly away a few inches. This was the twelfth missile he'd dismantled, but it was nerve-wracking nonetheless. Few things made him more nervous than sitting next to enough nuclear material to level the base, surrounding countryside, and several towns. The only thing that made him more nervous was when his wife got really mad. Now that was truly scary.
The assistant backed the dolly away from the missile a few inches, and stopped when the warhead came away enough for Phillip to reach in with his tools. A cluster of wires still connected the warhead to the missile, so Phillip reached for the wire cutters. Normally just cutting the wires would be risky, but the batteries had long since been disconnected. A few snips later the warhead was completely disconnected, and he signaled the assistant to back the dolly up further. Once the warhead was what he felt was a safe distance from the missile, he told the assistant to turn the dolly around and they both headed for the cargo door at one end of the room. The door noisily opened and several soldiers stepped aside to let them pass. Once they were inside, the door closed behind them and the soldiers checked their radiation tags and passed Geiger counters over them and the warhead. Once certain the technicians were clean enough, the soldiers waved them into a clean room where they disposed of their lab clothes and put on fresh ones. Phillip and the assistant took their places with the warhead, and the soldiers formed a tight formation around them. The cargo door on the other side of the room opened into a long tunnel that lead to the final disposal facility, where the nuclear components would be separated and stored in one of the most secure places in Russia. The missile itself would either be burned or retrofitted for the space industry, but that wasn't Phillip's concern.
All at once, Phillip, the assistant, the dolly, and the soldiers started down the tunnel. The barren concrete walls provided no comfort, because this place was designed to contain an "accident" should one ever occur. Aside from the ventilation, conduits, and lights that ran along the ceiling, nothing adorned the concrete except for safety warnings and markers painted at intervals on the walls and floor. Their footsteps echoed down the empty corridor, and the constant crackle of the Geiger counter reminded them of their dangerous package. Just another day at work, Phillip thought. Soldiers with guns and a 150-megaton warhead on its way to destruction. I'll never be at peace until all of these cursed things are gone forever. Then maybe I can focus on peaceful applications for nuclear science. But who am I kidding? By then I'll be old enough to retire!
Phillip's train of though was cut short by the sound of something metallic landing behind the group. The soldiers spun around in a flash and aimed their rifles at the sound. Phillip turned around and saw a canister spewing a noxious-looking cloud. The soldiers grabbed Phillip and his assistant and the dolly, and just as they began to sprint down the corridor, several more canisters landed in front of them, and more behind and to the sides. Within moments the soldiers were choking on the fumes, and then things got worse. Phillip heard several soft thumps around them, and saw armed men with gas masks sliding down ropes. They quickly subdued the guards, who were so weak they couldn't even radio for help. Phillip turned to his assistant, but he was already unconscious. The fumes burned inside Phillip's nose and lungs and made him feel violently nauseous. But his will was strong, and he willed his legs to carry him to the attackers who were laying their hands on the dolly, determined not to let them steal the warhead. One of them, whom Phillip guessed was the leader through his hazy vision and clouded mind, stood in his way and faced him.
"Forgive me, comrade," he said. "This is for the greater good." The man smashed the butt of his rifle across Phillip's face, and his world went black.
Chapter One
Sam's House – 11:00 pm
Sam slept fitfully. Too much caffeine and too much studying for a week had wrecked her sleeping habits, and four or five hours of sleep a night wasn't doing much for her during the day, either. She lay on her back and tried to calm her mind. She let her worries about grades and projects and boys slip away into nothingness, and slowly, imperceptibly a near-invisible gray fog formed behind her eyes. She felt like she was lying on a blanket of air, her movements sluggish and her thoughts scattered. She started dreaming about being on the longest slide she'd ever seen. She could almost feel herself lean forward and slide down the polished steel surface. The slide twisted and turned as it descended towards the edge of the world, and Sam felt like a little kid again. She felt the wind rushing by and her hair streaming behind her. Then something leaked into Sam's consciousness. Hey wait this is a dream. I can't feel wind in a dream. And why do I really feel like I'm sliding down this slide? The dream faded, and so did the fog. Sam still felt the slide and the wind, however. She opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realize that she was actually sliding down the WHOOHP-away tunnel.
"AAAIIEEE!"
Just as she was about to crash into the wall at the bottom, it fell away and Sam spilled out onto a thick cushion in Jerry's office.
"Hello Sam." Said Jerry.
A second cushion appeared on Sam's left, and Clover fell from the ceiling in a heap. Like Sam, she was in her sleeping clothes.
"Hello Clover."
"Jerry, you'd better have one darn good explanation, because I'm a hair's breadth away from ringing your limey neck!"
A third cushion appeared on Sam's right, and bleary-eyed Alex tumbled onto it, clutching a teddy bear.
"Hello Alex. It's good to see you all on such short notice."
Alex sat up and yawned. Jerry, what's going on? You never give us missions in our sleep!"
"I'm afraid this one's an exception, girls." Sam caught the tone in Jerry's voice and knew he was serious.
"Well, what's up this time?"
"Several hours ago, we don't know exactly when, a nuclear disposal facility in Russia was attacked by armed men and they stole a nuclear warhead on its way to be dismantled."
The silence in the office was deafening. The girls had dealt with and defeated all manner of psychopaths and their doomsday weapons, but nuclear terrorists were new. After a few seconds, Sam spoke up.
"Do we know where they intend to use it?"
"No, but the leader is expected to deliver his ultimatum any second" said an unfamiliar voice.
"Who was that?" asked Clover.
"Oh, so sorry, girls" Said Jerry. A young man in a jacket stepped out of a corner. "This is Jacob. We'll be working with the National Security Agency, and they've loaned us one of their best agents for this mission."
Jacob regarded the girls with a critical eye, and then turned to Jerry. "Jerry, are you sure these are the agents you were raving about a few minutes ago?"
Alex, Sam, and Clover were quite miffed, although Alex conceded that they did look rather pathetic in their sleepwear.
"What do you mean, "are you sure?" asked Clover. "You don't get much better than us in this organization!"
Jacob and Jerry ignored her. "Yes, I'm quite sure, unless they've been replaced by doubles within the last 24 hours. I assure you these are the finest agents we have."
Jacob looked at the girls again. "I hope you're right, Jerr. I really wasn't expecting such accomplished agents to be a bunch of kids. Especially not on such a critical op."
"You're not exactly an old man yourself, you know."
"Yeah, yeah."
Jerry's phone rang. He answered it and then said, "The terrorist is about to deliver his ultimatum. Please pay close attention everyone." Jerry pressed a button on his desk and the screen on the wall lit up. There was only static for a few seconds, and then it cleared away to reveal the silhouette of a man in a nondescript room. He took a deep breath, and then started talking in Russian. Sam only knew a few phrases, so the most she could catch was "greetings," and the rest was gibberish. He spoke for a couple of minutes, and then the video ended. Jacob crossed his arms and went into deep thought. Jerry called for a translated transcript of the ultimatum. Alex squeezed her teddy bear tighter. Whatever the terrorist had said, they could all tell it was serious and probably not the work of some first-time hack.
A minute later, an assistant entered the office and handed all of them translated copies of the message. It went like this:
"Greetings to the western world. As you are well aware by now, I have indeed stolen a rather powerful nuclear warhead from Russia and fully intend to use it to punish your society. I was once an officer in the Soviet military, but when the Soviet Union collapsed and sent my country into a tailspin of corruption and impotence, they decided I was no longer of any use. I have suffered for fifteen years, and will suffer to see the western world stand over my country and mock it no longer! I watched helplessly as my wife and daughter died because the price of your medicines was so high we could not afford it. You call yourselves great nations; yet have offered little more than worthless cash to aid a neighbor in need. Since I have no place in this world than as a defender of my homeland, I will use whatever means at my disposal to harm her enemies. I will crush your inflated ego under a nuclear hammer, and I will not give you the satisfaction of hunting for me, for I intend to go up with it. Goodbye, and I'll see you all at the nuclear dawn."
Jerry gave them a minute to read the transcript, and then punched a few more buttons on his panel. The screen divided into several cells, and the cells became occupied with very important-looking people, one of whom was the President. The assistant returned and offered the girls bathrobes and shoes.
The President was the first to speak. "Good evening, ladies. Nice to see you again." They were used to the President's laid back mannerisms, but now he was cold and focused as any of the others.
"Jerry, long time no see." Said a black man in a uniform in one cell.
"It's good to see you as well, MacDonald."
"Can we get to the matter at hand?" said Jacob. "We've already lost a lot of time thanks to intelligence complications."
"Yes, I suppose you're right, Jacob" said MacDonald.
"Oh, I almost forgot." Said Jerry. "Girls, this is Andrew MacDonald, head of the NSA."
"Hi!" they chimed.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ladies. I've read all about your exploits."
"You already know the President, and we also have the Secretary of Defense online as well."
"Well, I for one and deeply disturbed by the ultimatum" said the Secretary of Defense.
"How so?" asked the President
"It's not like a regular ultimatum."
"Why is that? He's threatening a major world power."
"Hey, don't ultimatums usually come with a set of demands or something?" asked Clover.
"Yes," said MacDonald.
"But there were no demands in his message." Said Jacob.
"Exactly." Said the Secretary.
"Then he intends to use the bomb no matter what." Said Sam
"Yes, it seems we have no alternative but to stop him before he can deploy it." Said the Secretary.
"The question is, where will he use it?" asked the President. "He never specified a target."
"Then that's up to us to figure out." Answered Alex.
"But how?" was the question no one asked. There was a moment of silence before Jacob began. "We'll just have to use deductive reasoning."
"What do you have?" asked MacDonald
"Jerry, give me a world map, will you?"
Jerry displayed a map of the world on the screen.
"Well, he specified a Western nation as the target, so we can go ahead and eliminate Asia, the Middle East, and Africa." As he named them, the areas went dark. "We can also eliminate Russia, since he obviously doesn't want to harm his homeland." Russia went dark. "It would be safe to rule out the old Soviet bloc nations closest to Russia as well. Several countries in Europe that bordered Russia went dark. "The last thing I think he'd want is to risk harming his country by bombing a neighbor. Next, we can rule out South America and Central America, since you can't do any real lasting harm there." South and Central America went dark.
"But why not?" asked Alex. "There's plenty of big cities in those countries."
"Wait, didn't he say he wanted to hit the world in it's ego?" asked Sam.
"Exactly" said Jacob. "If you want to hit the world with one strike, you hit it someplace prominent. Someplace everyone knows about."
"Jacob, you do realize that this leaves only the US, a few major European nations and Australia don't you?" asked the Sec Def.
"Oh, yeah. You can probably rule out Australia as well." Australia went dark. "This leaves us with only a few possible targets. He'll probably aim for a major city, possibly a capital, so that leaves Madrid, Paris, London, Berlin, Rome, and Warsaw in Europe."
"Why just those?" asked the CIA director.
"Because everyone knows about them," answered Jerry.
"If he were aiming for a cultural center," said Sam, "why not Athens? It's practically the birthplace of Western civilization."
"I considered that, but Athens was the cultural center. Now it's just a vacation resort and historic city. If I were him, I'd hit something more current, which means that Rome may also be eliminated." Italy went dark.
"I have a question!" piped Clover. "If you're with the National whatchamacalit, then why should you be so concerned with Europe's problems? I mean it only makes sense that you should be working on right here."
Jacob gave Jerry an inquisitive look. "It is true that we have plenty of agents working in Paris and London." He confessed.
"Which would mean the United States are our only real concern at the moment," Said MacDonald.
"I agree," said the President. "So, where would he hit us?"
"That's pretty obvious, isn't it?" said Alex. "Washington or New York!"
"That would be true, Alex, if he wanted to cripple the US," answered Jacob. "However, he specifically stated that he wanted to hit us in the ego, not the pocketbook and not the heart."
"So where does that put the target?" asked the Sec Def.
"Well," answered Jacob, "Which state has more songs written about it than any other?"
"Well, duh, it's California!" answered Clover.
"And what specific place is more famous than any other in the state?"
"Hollywood!"
"Correct! What else is there in Los Angeles?"
"Beverly Hills!" Answered Sam.
"What else?" The girls tried to think of something important they knew about, and so did the panel. Finally, Jacob spoke up. "Try 3,694,820 people just in the metropolitan area, and 9,806,577 in the entire county. And that's just the people who are legal residents and have phone numbers."
"Dear God," mumbled the President.
"And it won't just be that county that's affected," said the Secretary. "All of Southern California would be affected as well. The mountains will help contain the damage, but the winds will still carry the fallout great distances."
After a moment, MacDonald spoke up. "Jacob, I've never doubted your judgment, and you're the best agent I've got. I'm sure with the help of those three you will find the truth and stop these terrorists. As of now, Operation Shooting Star is go. Mr. President?"
"You'll have written authorization within ten minutes."
"Thanks, chief." The President's image vanished.
"Gentlemen, I think we've talked long enough," said Jerry. "I believe it's time we saw to our individual responsibilities. We've lost too much time already."
"Yeah, see you later Jerry. Good luck girls." The Secretary vanished.
"Just a reminder, you all have an open line right to me, so if I can be of any help, don't hesitate to call." MacDonald vanished. Now it was just the five of them in the room. Jerry stood up and addressed the girls. "Well ladies, it's time we got started." He pulled up a map of the city docks. "Suspicious cargo has been passing through the warehouses along the docks lately. Your first assignment is to investigate one of the warehouses and search for any suspicious activity and report anything you find back here."
"This is a stealth mission, so absolutely no one can know we've been there. Not the police, not the dock workers, no one," said Jacob.
"Wait, you said first assignment? Report back here?" asked Sam.
"There's no telling how long this op could last." Said Jacob. "We may have weeks, we may have days, and we may have hours. The terrorists already have the jump on us, and we'll have to play catch-up."
"I hate playing catch-up," muttered Alex.
Jerry called up a list of equipment. "Your gear has all been selected by Jacob, and it's nothing he doesn't use on a regular basis."
"You'll be wearing a special sneak suit I've used on numerous occasions. We'll be using two-way earpieces for communications, and they're very sensitive, so you don't have to speak too loud. You'll also be equipped with night-vision / infrared goggles, miniature lock-pick and electronics kits, combat knives, climbing gloves, and silenced SOCOMs."
"What's a SOCOM?" asked Clover.
"A .45 caliber pistol used often by Special Forces."
"Hold up!" exclaimed Sam. "We are not taking guns on this or any mission! I don't care what the odds are!"
"Listen, Sam," Jacob snarled, "the pistol is only for a last resort. The last thing we need on this sortie is a dead body. Just think of it as insurance." He headed for the door. "Amateur hour is over, girls. We're dealing with professionals from here on."