Kennedy Space Center Merritt Island, Florida
The launch clock read T minus 47 minutes as the first of the astronauts climbed into the crew access quarters. Dimitri Kashkov, third to board, settled himself into his seat in the mid-deck area of the shuttle. With a quick glance to his compatriot who was snapping the safety belts into place, he shifted the package that was secured around his abdomen. The flight suit he wore concealed the additional bulk admirably, but it did nothing to ease the discomfort of the tape pulling against the hairs on his chest. However, if all went well, he wouldn't be uncomfortable for long.
For his part, Alexi Brilnikov savored the sting of salt water as he steered his rented speed boat along the Florida coastline. In the distance, he could see the Coast Guard vessels monitoring the other boaters who had chosen to watch the launch from the water. He smiled as he checked his watch. By the time they found him, it would be too late.
The dock owner who had identified Brilnikov had given Mo a complete description of the boat he had rented, but even with the pertinent details, he and Mia were still faced with a daunting number of boats to check out. Mo lowered his binoculars and looked again at the registration number of the speed boat in question. He had already memorized it, but it gave him something to do while his eyes uncrossed.
Mia glanced over at his direction then lifted her own binoculars once more. "Mo, do you see what I see? Twenty-three degrees south."
Mo raised the binoculars again and answered, "That's an affirmative."
Mia turned and ordered the lieutenant accompanying them to steer toward the boat in question. Pressing his ear piece closer to his ear, Mo said, "Kilmer, we've spotted the boat and are moving to intercept."
"Good work you two," came the quick reply.
A few minutes later, Mo's reassuring statement broke over Kilmer's ear piece, "Target has been acquired. Weapon is secure."
Kilmer shot a relieved glance to Frankie, then asked, "Mo, any sign of the CG?"
"Negative, Kilmer. The only thing he had on him was a shoulder-fired missile."
Kilmer, brow furrowed with confusion, said, "Come again?"
"Mia and I have searched his person thoroughly and the Coast Guard people are tearing the boat apart. There is no biotoxin here."
"This doesn't make sense," Frankie said as she held up a hand to shade her eyes and look around. Seeing the hulls of the multitude of Coast Guard ships milling about the spectators, she shook her head. "He must have known he would be caught."
"His boat was also directly in the path of the Coast Guard's patrol route," Jelani added through the ear piece. "If we hadn't gotten to him, they would have picked him up on their own within a matter of minutes."
Kilmer grimaced as he watched the boat containing Mo, Mia and their prisoner turn toward the shore. "So why would he even bother attempting an attack? And where would he have put the CG?"
"Unless he wasn't the only plant," Frankie murmured.
"A diversion while the real op goes as planned..." The SAC raised his eyebrows at the thought. "But where?"
Frankie shook her head. "Kilmer, the Chechens are big on collateral damage. Their last few suicide bombs killed a minimum of 40 bystanders each time."
Kilmer turned his practiced eyes toward the surrounding buildings. "The website said that America's frivolity and superficiality would be curtailed."
Frankie pursed her lips as her mind assimilated fact with supposition. "The shuttle wouldn't necessarily be considered frivolous and the Chechens would have been happy with the show of destroying the cooperation between us and the Russians. But al-Qaeda ..." she trailed off as her gaze was snagged by the launch pad. "Jelani, how many people are in the crowd to watch the lift-off?"
The former NSA agent scanned the pages of information that scrolled across his screen. "Guards estimate roughly 200, not counting the Russian minister and staff as well as the US dignitaries."
"Anders," Frankie prompted as she looked west, "what is the mortality estimate if the toxin is released here in Canaveral?"
"Depending on wind sheer and the shuttle's elevation at release, we're looking at all of Orlando and the surrounding counties as ground zero.
"Not to mention Disney World and the other theme parks," Frankie added with grim assessment.
"You got it, frivolity and superficiality personified."
"Alright," Kilmer agreed, with a brisk nod, "Jelani, contact Mission Control. We have got to stop that lift-off."
Frankie pushed the tendrils of hair that had slipped from her pony tail back over her ears. "Every visitor was patted down in addition to the metal detectors. So the only way something could have gotten through..."
"...Was on a cosmonaut," Kilmer finished. "Anders, do either of the cosmonauts have any ties to the Chechens or AQ?"
"Checking. I'm not finding any obvious red flags. Wait, this is interesting. One cosmonaut, Kashkov, does have a connection to our would-be missile launcher. Turns out they were childhood friends before Brilnikov left for Sabila, Pakistan, a known AQ training camp."
Jelanie's voice rejoined the conversation. "Mission Control says that the Russians were given a tour of the shuttle after their final simulation. One of the cosmonauts disappeared for a while, but when questioned, he said he was checking out the head."
"We need to clear the area and evacuate the shuttle without alerting him," Frankie said, turning to Kilmer just as the launch counter ticked down to twelve minutes. "If he's a suicide bomber, he'll have the detonation device on under his flight suit and will trigger it at the first sign of trouble."
"Jelani, work with Mission Control and figure out a plausible excuse -- a minor malfunction, anything -- that requires the astronauts to disembark for repair. Make sure they don't use something that will tell him he's been discovered."
"Done and done, boss. The astronauts will be offloading in a minute. NASA tweaked the O2 in the cabin."
"Good enough. Isolate Kashkov and call in the bomb squad to deactivate the bomb. Have center authorities meet Frankie and me at the loading dock. We've got to find that toxin."
...to be continued...