Madox pointed out, “People are either dead, or they’re not.”

“This guy is the ultimate spook. Dead when he needs to be, alive when he needs to come back. The point is, if it’s this guy who’s behind Muller’s being here, then I feel much better about our chances of getting Project Green going in the next forty-eight hours, and much better about the government initiating Wild Fire as the response.”

Madox stared at Landsdale and said, “If that makes you feel better, Scott, then I’m happy for you. But the bottom line, Mr. Landsdale, is not what’s going on in Washington, but what’s going on here. I have worked on this plan for nearly a decade, and I will make it happen.”

“Not if they shut you down in the next day or two.” Landsdale said, “Be grateful that you have friends in Washington, and be very grateful if my former mentor in Black Ops is alive and looking after you.”

“Well, if you say so… maybe, when this is over, I can meet this man, if he’s among the living, and shake his hand.” Madox asked, “What’s his name?”

“I couldn’t tell you his name, even if he was actually dead.”

“Well, if you ever see him-alive-and if he was my guardian angel on this project, then thank him for me.”

“I will.”

Madox indicated the door. “Let’s continue the meeting.”

As Landsdale walked toward the door, Madox nodded, happy in the knowledge that this mystery man was so well thought of. In fact, the man in question had not died on September 11, as Madox knew, but was actually on his way to the Custer Hill Club. In fact, Mr. Ted Nash, an old friend of Bain Madox’s, had called right before the meeting of the Executive Board to see if John Corey was in Madox’s custody. When Madox said they had a Mr. Harry Muller in the net instead, Nash seemed disappointed and said, “Wrong fish,” but he was optimistic, adding, “I’ll see what I can do to get Corey to the Custer Hill Club… You’d like him, Bain. He’s an egotistical prick, and nearly as smart as we are.”

Bain Madox followed Landsdale into the room, walked to the head of the table, and began, “The meeting will come to order.” He pointed to the black suitcase in the middle of the floor and said, “That thing, which you are seeing for the first time, is a Soviet-made RA-155, weight about seventy-five pounds, containing about twenty-five pounds of very high-grade plutonium, plus a detonating device.”

Harry stared at the suitcase. When he’d worked with NEST, they’d never told him what to look for-small atomic devices came in different shapes and sizes, and as the instructor had said, “There won’t be an atomic symbol on the device, or a skull and crossbones, or anything. Just rely on your gamma-ray and neutron detectors.”

Madox continued, “That little thing will yield about five kilotons, about half the explosive power of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Because these devices are old, and need constant maintenance, the explosion could be smaller. But that’s not a lot of consolation if you happen to be sitting next to one.” He chuckled.

Landsdale pointed out, “Actually, we are sitting next to one.” He joked, “Maybe you shouldn’t smoke, Bain.”

Madox ignored him. “For your information, gentlemen, that little thing would level Midtown Manhattan and cause about half a million instant deaths, followed by as many as another half million in the aftermath.”

Madox walked over to the big suitcase and put his hand on it. “Incredible technology. You have to wonder what God was thinking when He created atoms that could be split or fused by mortal men to release such supernatural energy.”

Harry Muller, with great difficulty, took his eyes off the nuclear bomb. He seemed to notice the bottled water in front of him for the first time, and with an unsteady hand, he drank from it.

Madox said to him, “You’re not looking well.”

“None of you are looking too good yourselves, and where the hell did you get that bomb?”

“Actually, that was the easy part. It was just a matter of money, like everything else in life, plus my private jets to fly these here from one of the former Soviet republics. I paid-out of my own pocket-ten million dollars, if you’re interested. That was for all four bombs-not each. You can imagine how many suitcase bombs people like bin Laden have already bought.”

Harry finished his water, then took Landsdale’s bottle along with Landsdale’s ballpoint pen, which he put in his pocket. No one noticed as Madox continued speaking.

Madox turned to Harry and said, “We’re not monsters, Mr. Muller. We’re decent men who are going to save Western Civilization, save our families, our nation, and our God.”

Harry, against his better judgment, asked, “By killing millions of Americans?”

“The Islamic terrorists are going to kill them anyway, Harry. It’s just a matter of time. It’s better if we do it sooner. And we get to pick the cities-not them.”

“Are you all out of your fucking minds?”

Madox snapped, “Hold on, Harry! A little while ago you had no problem with the idea of wiping out the world of Islam-men, women, children, plus Western tourists and businesspeople, and who knows who else is in the Mideast next week-”

“Next week?”

“Yes. And as I said, you can thank yourself and your organization for that. Today, it was just you snooping around. Tomorrow or the next day, it will be Federal agents and perhaps troops from Fort Drum swarming all over this place, looking for you… and finding this.” He slapped the suitcase.

Harry almost jumped in his seat.

“So, we have to hide you and deliver the suitcases to their final destinations.” He said to the Board, “Meanwhile, we will proceed with the business at hand. First…” He walked back to the table and hit a key on his console. The lights dimmed as a flat screen monitor brightened on the wall, illuminating a color map of the Mideast and East Asia. “We will take a look at the world of Islam, which we are about to destroy.”

Bain Madox began, “There, gentlemen, is the land of Islam, stretching from the Atlantic coast of North Africa, through the Mideast, into Central Asia, all the way to East Asia, ending in the most populous Muslim country of Indonesia, which is the latest battlefront in the war on terrorism.”

He paused for effect and said, “There are over one billion Muslims living in these countries today. By sometime next week, there will be a lot fewer.”

Madox let that sink in, then turned on a reading lamp and said, “Ed has provided us with a list of Islamic cities targeted under Wild Fire…” He glanced at the paper in front of him and joked, “This looks like my Christmas wish list.”

No one laughed, and Madox said, “Ed will give us some details of Wild Fire.”

The deputy secretary of defense, Edward Wolffer, explained, “There are actually two lists-the A-list and the B-list. The A-list includes the entire Middle East-the Arabic heart of Islam-plus some specific targets in North Africa, Somalia, Sudan, Muslim portions of Central Asia, and a few targets in East Asia. The list has basically stayed the same for the last twenty years, but now and then we add a target, such as the northern portion of the Philippines, which has become a hotbed of Islamic fundamentalism. Note, too, that we occasionally delete targets. For instance, as a result of our occupation of Afghanistan, we’ve removed most of Afghanistan from the target list as well as certain places in the Gulf region, Central Asia, and Saudi Arabia, where American troops are presently stationed.”

Everyone nodded, and a few men jotted notes.

Wolffer continued, “We’ve also acquired new targets in southern Afghanistan, specifically the Tora Bora area and the adjacent border areas of Pakistan, where we believe bin Laden is hiding.” He added, “If that sonofabitch survives this, he’ll be king of the Nuclear Wasteland.”