Deluge (The Best Thrillers Book 2) by James Best (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📕

ship in what he called cocked mode, so he could lift off in less than a minute. His secondary task was to remain in radio contact with a radiation-monitoring aircraft that flew on the fringe of the projected radiation plume. O’Brian climbed into the copilot seat and quickly told him that the nuclear attack had been successful, and they wanted to check for obstacles downstream. In less than forty seconds, they were airborne.

They had been premature and quickly outran the water. O’Brian instructed the pilot to stay with the leading edge of the stream. Evarts, searching down the pass with another set of binoculars, saw the damage tactical nuclear weapons could do. It looked like a monster backhoe had taken intermediate bites out of the terrain. Not good. Each explosion had dug a crater that mounded rock and dirt between each blast point. Would the water flow be strong enough to wash away this loose debris? He watched the leading edge of the flow. The water would pool in the crater until it filled and then wash over the top to continue downhill. He watched two cycles before becoming convinced it was going to work.

O’Brian leaned around to look at Evarts in the back compartment. They traded thumbs-ups and broad grins.

Chapter 52

“Damn your husband. He’s as much of a pain in the ass as you.”

“Go to hell, Paul,” Baldwin said. “If you don’t like what he’s doing, you go out there and get showered with radiation.”

“I have a different job. I try to do it properly. I wish your husband would do the same.”

“How do you know what they’re dealing with?”

“I don’t. That’s the point. They won’t report. How can I reassure the governor?”

“Your job is to inform, not reassure. If you had really done your job, this decision would have been made days ago. How much safer would my husband be with another day of planning? Two more days of preparation. He’s taking additional risk because you’re a wuss.”

“Get her out of here,” Gleason ordered.

William started in her direction, but pulled up short when he saw the fury in her eyes. She pointed a finger at him, shooing him away, and he disappeared around the doorjamb. She turned back to Gleason.

“I can call security.”

“No need. I don’t want to be in your presence either.”

She stomped out.

When she got back to their assigned office, she found Smith looking intently at his computer. Without looking up, he waved her into the seat beside him.

“No seismic waves,” Smith said. “I don’t know how much water we released, but we didn’t set off an earthquake … not yet, at least.”

“Can one still happen?”

“If we didn’t already jar a plate enough to make it shift, I doubt residual vibrations will do it.” He sat back in his chair and let out a deep breath. “I think we’re good.”

“Did you tell Gleason? He’s looking for good news.”

He picked up the phone and punched up a number. “Mr. Gleason, you can remove an earthquake from your list of worries. On second thought, perhaps move it to the bottom of your list. We’re not completely out of the woods, but the odds are in our favor.”

He listened for a short period and replaced the handset. “He said thank you and hung up. Didn’t sound joyful.”

“He’s angry he hasn’t got a mission-accomplished message from my husband.”

“I suspect your husband’s busy.”

“I suspect he enjoys irritating bureaucrats.”

Smith laughed. “There’s that too.”

To hell with this. She was worried. She called Evarts on his private phone. When he answered, she heard a loud roar that drowned out his words. She finally made out that he was asking her to hold on a moment. Gradually, the noise abated.

“Sorry, we were getting off a helicopter,” Evarts said.

“Oh, no. Were you evacuating?” Baldwin asked, alarmed.

“No, no. We were checking the pass downstream. Trish, it worked! Water’s flowing out of the Central Valley to the ocean. It’s not a lot, but our aerial inspection looks promising. I think it’s picking up pace.”

“It worked?”

“At first, we didn’t think so, but the water started trickling, then streaming, and now it flows strong enough to go around anything in its way. It’s picking up steam by the minute. And we didn’t even use the conventional back-up strike.”

“Have you called Gleason?”

“Jim is calling him now.”

“He’s in a fit because you didn’t keep him updated,” Baldwin said. “And you didn’t set up the satellite uplink on the video camera.”

“The damn thing didn’t work … and until now, we had nothing but bad news.”

“Did the uplink really not work?” she asked, disbelief evident in her voice.

“Hey, get happy. I just told you we pulled the drain plug on the Central Valley. Why all the concern about the tender ego of a mealy-mouthed politician?”

“Because I just told him to go to hell, and he’ll probably be the next governor.”

She heard silence for an extended period. When he spoke, it was in a low, calm voice. “This is not something you need to worry about. We’ll talk about it after we get home.”

She knew enough to drop the subject. In this day and age, no electronic conversation was out of earshot.

When she didn’t respond, he added, “Congratulations, by the way. Wish I could have told the SOB face-to-face to go to hell.”

She laughed.

“Listen, you’ll get a call soon. O’Brian has four seats reserved for you and your friends on a C-17 to get the hell out of Dodge. You leave at ten this evening. The plane will take you to Vandenberg Air Force Base. With any luck, I’ll meet you on the tarmac.”

“Sherrell Wilson lives in San Francisco.”

“She can return after water and power are restored.”

“Of course.”

“Do you like her?”

“Yes. We’ve been through a lot together. She’s a trooper.”

“Then she can be our guest, except … oh crap.”

“What?”

“I forgot to tell you. We have house guests. Nineteen of them. Everyone in town is sheltering evacuees. Your friend will need to sleep in the great room until we can throw them out.”

“No problem.