Trinity factor, p.23
Trinity Factor, page 23
“I don’t know,” Cripps said, confused. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Oh, yes, it does,” Lovelace said. “Because Tragger was the only one in Albuquerque who knew of our man’s existence. There will be no one here now to make a mistake. He and the woman are on their own.”
“But he still doesn’t know the date of the test.”
Lovelace looked down at the notes. “If he’s learned this much, he’ll have a way of finding out that last bit of information. You can count on it.”
“He’d never get in.”
Lovelace smiled. “Yes, he will. He’ll find a way unless we stop him first.”
30
ALAMOGORDO BOMBING RANGE
Badim had gone exploring for the gold of San Vittorio Mountain.
The horse shivered beneath his legs and he reached down and gently patted the animal on the side of its powerful neck as he gauged the distance and height of the barbed wire fence the rancher had just jumped with his horse.
“Señor, come,” the man called softly. He was drunk and his words were slurred.
It was after one in the morning. They had been out here for more than two hours and had covered, twelve miles or more from Oscuro.
Somewhere to the northwest, at least another eighteen miles over the Oscura Mountains, which they were approaching from the east, was Trinity. Straight ahead was a place the rancher had called Mockingbird Gap, which was a low cut through the mountains, and somewhere to the south was San Vittorio and a billion dollars in gold bullion.
Jada had come up with the idea two days after he had gotten the envelope from his contact in Albuquerque, but at first he had ignored her suggestion.
For a couple of days she had sulked around their apartment, her mood volatile partly because of the advanced stage of her pregnancy, and partly because of her intense desire, all of a sudden, to help him finish this job.
Finally, if for no other reason than to keep the peace with her, he had agreed to listen, and what she had laid out for him was nothing less than amazing.
Out of self-defense against boredom during the long days while Badim was away selling Bibles to the ranchers south of town, Jada had spent some time at the public library and at the State Historical Society.
Albuquerque and the area had intrigued her, and she had wanted to learn more about its history. It was during one of these forays that she had discovered the story of the gold of San Vittorio. When Badim had shown her the map pinpointing the Trinity site, she had seen exactly how he would be able to get to the tower, with a fail-safe if he was discovered.
In the sixteenth century, when the Spaniards had had missions in Mexico, a group of monks discovered a rich vein of gold, which they mined, reducing the ore to ingots.
The Spanish government got wind of the monks’ cache of gold and sent troops to fetch it for the king and queen. The monks, however, had no intention of giving up their wealth. Instead they loaded the gold bullion on the backs of donkeys and headed north, up the desert, and into the San Andres and Oscura Mountains, through an area called Journada del Muerto … Journey of Death.
The monks, so the legend went, hid the gold in a cave in or near San Vittorio Mountain, and then perished in the desert trying to return to their monastery in Mexico.
For nearly four centuries the gold had remained hidden, although many expeditions were sent to search for it.
In the 1920s, a local rancher was said to have found the cache of gold, and had brought one ingot out of the mountains to prove it. But he was killed in a barroom brawl before he could tell anyone the exact location.
San Vittorio, Jada excitedly pointed out, was less than twenty-five miles south of the Trinity site.
It had taken Badim nearly a week to find the right man: a rancher who knew the area well, who was not afraid of the government, which had cordoned off the entire Journada del Muerto, and who had enough greed to keep his mouth shut.
He jammed the heels of his boots into the horse’s flanks, and the animal shot forward, easily clearing the fence, and a moment later he and the rancher, Victor Gonzales Reyes, continued through the rugged desert, skirting the southern edge of the Oscuro peaks, and entering the eastern flank of Mockingbird Gap.
They had gone another six miles in silence, only the horses’ hooves thudding softly against the desert hardpan, when Badim noticed a flash of light off to the north, and then a second and a third wavering flash. It looked to him like the headlights of a moving vehicle, but a long way off.
He pulled up even with Reyes, and pointed toward the lights. “What’s down there?”
“Jesus motherfucking Christ, shut your mouth,” Reyes ordered, pulling his horse up.
The rancher was looking down through the gap toward the desert. “Just a minute now and I’ll show you, Bible man,” he slurred, “but for the love of Mother Mary, keep quiet.”
Badim followed the man farther down into the gap, until they came around the southern edge of the Oscura Range, the ground here hard and littered with huge stretches of lava flow.
Then he could see it. A long way off, down on the floor of the desert. A large group of lights to the south, which would be the base camp, and three, no four, other sets of lights, which from their position Badim guessed would be the north, south, and west bunkers, as well as the tower itself.
He could feel his heart accelerating. His mouth was dry. He took the canteen hanging from his saddle horn, unscrewed the cap, and drank deeply as he kept his eyes on the sight far below.
The bomb was relatively simple, according to the notes he had gotten from his contact. Two hemispheres of pure plutonium, which were coming down from the separation plant at Hanford, Washington, would be set in close proximity to each other, at the center of which would be a device called the initiator.
Surrounding the plutonium spheres was a spherical array of ordinary TNT charges that were shaped in the form of magnifying lenses.
Each of the charges was connected with a timer-detonator, and the entire assembly was encased in a steel jacket.
When the TNT charges were set off, in a very precise order, the blast would force the plutonium spheres together into a critical mass within a millionth of a second, crushing the initiator, which would then release a stream of neutrons—nuclear bullets, the scientists were calling them. This would create a sudden, runaway chain reaction that in turn would, it was hoped, create an explosion of up to twenty thousand tons of TNT.
If the timing of the lens-shaped TNT charges was off, by even the slightest fraction of a second, the bomb would melt … not explode.
On the surface, the plan Runkov had worked out for Badim was simple.
The bomb was to be placed on a steel tower one hundred feet off the desert floor, with the nearest manned bunker a little less than six miles away. At least one hour before the blast, the tower area would be cleared, and it would be during this time that Badim would sneak under cover of darkness to the tower, climb to the top, and simply switch a few of the detonator wires that were attached to the TNT lenses.
He would then climb back down the tower and get away.
The bomb would not explode, so there would be no real danger to Badim even if he was only a few hundred yards away when the switch was thrown. But the bomb would melt, completely destroying all evidence of his sabotage. The scientists would be led to believe that the bomb design had failed, and a new design and test would not be ready in time to circumvent the invasion of the Japanese mainland. It would also give the Soviets more time to finish their own bomb.
“That’s the fucking government down there,” Reyes said softly, and Badim looked at him.
“What are they doing?” he asked. Reyes was a man who had no regard for his own government, and Badim found it distasteful being with him.
Reyes looked at him and smiled. “Heh,” he said. “They’re building submarines. Go like the devil wind. They’re using the power of the atom.”
Badim was startled, and it evidently showed on his face because Reyes pointed a finger at him.
“Reyes doesn’t always tell the truth you know, gringo. You have to keep on your toes. Nobody gets up earlier than Reyes. Don’t forget it when we find the gold.” He reined his horse around savagely, cutting the animal’s mouth with the bit. “Come on, motherfucker, we’re going to find us some gold.”
31
ALBUQUERQUE, NEW MEXICO
The nurse helped Jada down from the examining table when the doctor was gone, then busied herself tidying up the room, putting away instruments and changing the paper sheet over the leather cover as Jada went behind the screen to dress.
“When you’re finished, dear, doctor would like to see you in his office,” the nurse called to her. “It’s just across the hall.”
Jada peeked around the screen. “Is there something the matter?” she asked, suddenly worried.
“Heavens, no,” the nurse said, looking up from her work. She was a large-boned woman with a pleasant face and red hands. “He just wants to talk with you, is all. Probably will write you a prescription of some sort.”
“I see,” Jada said uncertainly, and she stepped into her underpants, then pulled on the half slip, and then the maternity skirt, tieing it in the front in a bow.
As she buttoned up the loose smock, and stepped into her flats, she began to imagine all sorts of things wrong with her baby. And for just a moment she had a powerful dread of crossing the hallway and entering the doctor’s office.
She had heard some of the other women out in the waiting room talking about sisters or cousins or friends who had had troubles with their babies—stillbirths, deformities, blindness, retardation, and some things even worse.
She had tried to block out those conversations from her mind, but each time she came here, it seemed like the same women were sitting in the same chairs and couches, saying the same kinds of things. And now she was beginning to wonder if she wasn’t carrying some kind of monster.
Her back ached, her belly seemed to be stretched so tightly that it would split at any moment, her breasts were heavy and tender, and now she was sore where the doctor had examined her.
Tears began slipping down her cheeks and suddenly the nurse had come around the corner, clucking solicitously.
“There, there,” the woman crooned, holding Jada for a moment. “We’re ugly and fat, and we don’t feel good, we ache all over, and no one loves us … that’s it, isn’t it?”
Jada looked up at her, and had to smile, but the tears continued nevertheless.
The nurse led her around the screen and at the door she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dried Jada’s tears. “Your first one, isn’t it?”
Jada nodded. “Yes,” she said softly. “But what if something is wrong with my baby? What if it’s …”
The nurse looked at her sharply. “The doctor will probably be giving you iron tablets to build up your blood, but I have my own prescription for you.” She leaned a little closer. “Don’t listen to those old hags out in the waiting room. The only thing they manage to do well is gossip.”
Jada had to laugh, suddenly understanding just how silly she had been. “Thank you,” she said.
“Chin up,” the nurse said, and she opened the door for Jada. “Right across the hall. Doctor is waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” Jada said again, and she went across the hall, knocked once at the doctor’s door, and opened it.
The doctor was seated behind his desk, staring at what looked like a photograph, as a tall man stood watching him. They both looked up when she came in.
“Excuse me,” she said, and started to back out of the office, but the doctor had gotten to his feet.
“No, that’s all right, Mrs. Bradley, come in. This gentleman was just leaving.”
The man nodded politely as Jada came all the way in, crossed the room, and sat down in a chair that he held for her.
“I’m afraid I can’t be much help to you,” the doctor was saying. He looked at the photograph one last time, then handed it over to the man, giving Jada a brief glimpse of it, and her heart seemed to leap up into her throat.
It was a photograph of two sketches, sketches of her and Alek. They knew! Somehow they knew, and they were here in Albuquerque looking for them.
“Well, thanks anyway, doc, sorry to have bothered you,” the man said, and he turned to Jada and nodded. “Ma’am,” then he was gone, and the doctor was sitting down, pulling Jada’s file to him and opening it.
Her heart was beating rapidly, her breath was shallow and her hands were cold and sweaty. They knew!
The doctor looked up, sudden concern in his eyes. “Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Bradley?” he asked.
She nodded, barely trusting herself to speak. “I’m fine,” she mumbled. “Just a little nauseous.”
“Would you like to lie down for a moment?”
She shook her head. “No … I’ll be fine.”
The doctor smiled. “If it’s any consolation, it happens to a lot of women.” He looked again at her chart. “I’d say you have about thirty-five days yet.” He counted from a desk calendar. “July nineteenth, perhaps the twentieth.”
They knew their faces. It was all she could think about as the doctor prescribed several medications he wanted her to take to build up what he was terming a slight anemia.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he was saying finally, and then they were standing, and he had come around his desk to show her to the door.
She had to think. She had to use her head, and not fall apart. Alek’s life depended upon it. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” she said, trying to keep her voice nonchalant.
For a moment the doctor apparently did not know what she was talking about, but then understanding dawned on his face. “The soldier,” he said.
“Soldier?”
He nodded. “Looking for a couple of murderers, or spies, or something. Wondered if I had seen either of them.”
“I see,” Jada said, her knees weak.
“Take care of yourself now,” the doctor said. “Plenty of rest, plenty of liquids, and stick with your diet. I’ll want to see you back here next Friday.”
Her doctor’s appointment had been for 9:00 A.M., and it was just noon when she got off the bus and walked the last two blocks to their apartment. She let herself in and locked the door behind her.
Alek would be gone for the entire weekend. Before he had left yesterday evening, he had told her that he and Reyes would be spending the entire weekend in the mountains, and would not be coming out until late Sunday night or sometime Monday morning before dawn.
He had been excited, showing her on a map how he had planned to get within a couple of miles east of the tower and hide until everyone cleared out and went back to the protection of the bunkers.
Meanwhile, he said, he would have to keep Reyes convinced that they were actually looking for the gold.
“But after this weekend, Larissa, when we find nothing, I’m going to tell Reyes that I’m giving it up. That my nerves can’t take all that prowling around on government land.”
“Then what?” she had asked him. They were lying together in the big bed.
He was on his back, smoking a cigarette, staring up at the ceiling. “I won’t need him any longer. As soon as Yakovlev comes up with the exact time and date for the test, I’ll rent a horse … I’ve already seen to it. You’ll drop me off at Oscuro, I’ll get to the tower and switch the wires and return to Oscuro, where you’ll be waiting to pick me up. Shouldn’t take more than twelve hours at the outside.”
“Then back to Moscow,” Jada had said, watching the smoke curl up from his cigarette.
He rolled over so that he was propped up on one elbow facing her, and he looked deeply into her eyes. “Alek and Larissa and baby makes three. Back to Moscow.”
She had fallen asleep soon after that, and when she awoke a couple of hours later he was gone.
And now, what were they going to do? They had figured the baby would be born sometime around the middle of August, giving them plenty of time to get out of the States beforehand. But now, if the doctor was correct and her baby was due much sooner, that would be impossible.
On top of all that, the army knew their faces, and knew, or at least suspected, that they were here in Albuquerque.
She turned on the radio, found a station playing music that wasn’t Mexican, and then went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea as she tried to think this thing out.
The mission would have to be scrubbed after all. There was no help for it. The army knew they were here, and probably knew why they were here. The man in the car who had fired at Alek on the train was probably behind it. Alek had suspected the man had seen his face.
She closed her eyes tightly as she felt the baby moving, a foot or a fist jamming into her ribs.
Alek was relatively safe for the moment, out of Albuquerque. But once he got back on Sunday night or early Monday morning he would be in danger again.
She laid her right hand on her stomach, and could feel the new life stirring within her. It was pleasurable, more deeply pleasurable and satisfying than anything she could imagine.
When Alek returned they would have to leave. Call their contact in New York to arrange for transportation out of the country, and then get out quickly.
Yet she could not travel like this. Especially not with the possibility that they could run into some trouble.
Dear god, she thought, as a very dark, foreboding image swam into her mind.
She turned off the burner under the pot, the thought of tea suddenly not very appealing, and went back into their tiny living room, where she stood looking toward the front door.
“Alek,” she said, half to herself. “Aleksandr.” How she loved him. How she loved the baby in her womb. How she had loved their life in Newport News.
For a few wild seconds she thought she had a solution to their problem. The Soviet Union and the United States were still allies, so what she and Alek had been doing here really wasn’t spying. They could turn themselves in and trade amnesty for everything they knew about the NKVD and Runkov’s GRU operations.
