P-2
The old ten-wheel Zeel truck stopped at the gate cut
in the high wall surrounding the nuclear complex. The sleepy guard in a
glass booth put down his cup of hot tea and leaned forward, wiping the
condensation off the glass to get a better view of the truck and its
driver. He recognized the new deliveryman, two weeks on the job. His
predecessor had a close encounter with a military truck in Omsk, they
said. Poor man, the guard thought, but then that’s life: one moment you’re
here, the next you’re under a truck.
According to regulations, he was required to check
the truck before letting it in, but as Peter had predicted, he didn’t want
to leave the warmth of his booth. Instead, he glanced back into the yard
to make sure the duty officer wasn’t on rounds. Then he pressed the green
button and waved the truck in as the loud screeching gate slowly moved
along its track.
The gate log would read: "6.50 – delivery truck
arrived, checked and found clean. Entry permitted."
The old diesel engine revved and the truck slowly
gained speed, making its way into the calm of the inner courtyard, moving
down a narrow winding path wedged between the wall and a row of concrete
silos that extended into the murky sky. Once out of the guard’s sight, the
truck made a brief stop.
"Now!" the driver shouted through the
window separating the cabin from the back. Three men, two in guards’
uniforms and one in a black diver’s wet suit, jumped out the back as the
truck continued on its way to the kitchen.
Within seconds, the three men had cut the lock on a
metal hatch at the bottom of the third silo. For months, they had
practiced this on a mock-up. Moving quickly, they entered what was
probably the most dangerous and unstable environment in the world. A
reinforced steel tank, forty feet wide and thirty feet high, occupied the
interior of the concrete silo, leaving a narrow corridor around it. The
tank was filled to the brim with water. An electric grid along its inner
wall kept the contents at 34 degrees F.
The two uniformed men carried a large black duffel
bag. Their mission had to be completed before the truck returned. They had
come to release Lucifer from his steel bottle.
The diver climbed a rusting ladder bolted to the
tank wall. Once at the top he opened a round hatch and slipped into the
water. Descending, he turned on a powerful flashlight strapped to the side
of his head. A series of shiny cylinders made of a titanium alloy were
neatly stacked on the tank floor, each with a red valve at its end. They
contained radioactive acid, a lethal and volatile byproduct of the bomb
factory. The water kept their temperature steady, as a fluctuation of more
than three degrees could prove lethal.
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