CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Kate hit a few keys on the laptop computer, and a page of text came up on the screen. She said, "That's an unpublished piece about Mikhail Putyov, written ten years ago."

I glanced at the screen. "Yeah? And?"

She turned the computer toward me and said, "The writer is a fellow named Leonid Chernoff, another Russian nuclear physicist, also living in the U.S. This piece is in the form of a letter to fellow physicists, in which he praises Putyov's genius."

I didn't respond.

She continued, "And here"-she scrolled-"Chernoff writes, and I quote, 'Putyov is quite content now in his teaching position, and finds his work challenging and rewarding. Though one must ask if he is as challenged as when he worked at the Kurchatov Institute on the Soviet miniaturization program.'" She looked at me. "End quote."

"Miniaturization of what?"

"Nuclear weapons. Like nuclear artillery shells, for instance, or land mines. Also, nuclear suitcase bombs."

It took me half a second to get it, and I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. "Holy shit ..." I stared stupidly at the illuminated laptop screen, my mind racing through everything we'd heard, discovered, knew, and suspected.

"John, I think there are two nuclear suitcase bombs in Los Angeles, and two in San Francisco."

"Holy shit."

"I don't know the final destination of those weapons, or if Madox's two aircraft are going to be transporting those suitcases to their ultimate destination or destinations, or if they're going to be put on a ship, or-"

"We need to ground those aircraft."

"Done. I called my friend Doug Sturgis, who's the ASAC in the LA field office, and told him to put those two aircraft under surveillance in case the pilots show up, or have the planes impounded as evidence in a Federal case that was urgent and of the highest priority."

I nodded. Her "friend" Doug was, I think, an old boyfriend from when she'd been posted in LA some years ago. I'd had the pleasure of meeting this pin dick when Kate and I had chased down Asad Khalil in California-and I had no doubt that this wimp would jump through his ass for his old pal Kate.

Still, I didn't see how Kate could kick off a major case with a single phone call to some assistant special agent in charge in LA. I mean, the workings of the FBI remain a mystery to me, but I seem to recall a chain of command.

I asked her about this, and she replied, "What I did-to avoid going through Tom Walsh-was to ask-plead with Doug-to treat this as an anonymous terrorist threat tip." She informed me, "That will actually get the ball rolling faster, if Doug says that the tip sounded legitimate."

"Right. And he's doing this?"

"He said he would." She added, "I explained that I ... and you ... were having some credibility problems with the ATTF, but that I had this extremely reliable information, and it was urgent, and it was in his jurisdiction, and-"

"Okay. I got it. And he's your pal, so he stuck his neck out for you."

"He wouldn't stick his neck out for anyone. But he does have to respond to a credible terrorist threat."

"Right. I guess he knows you're credible."

"Can we move on?"

"Yeah. I just needed to know that this is in the right hands, and it's not sitting in someone's tomorrow box."

She moved on. "I also gave Doug the names Tim Black and Elwood Bellman, and I told him that Black was probably staying in a hotel in Los Angeles, and Bellman in San Francisco, and that we needed to find these pilots ASAP." She added, "I told him my suspicion that they could be transporting suitcase nukes."

I nodded. That was the right move, obviously. "Did that get his attention?"

She ignored that and continued, "He promised to begin a manhunt in LA immediately, and to call the San Francisco field office, and also to put this out to all local law enforcement agencies in both cities and suburbs. He will also speak to his boss in LA, and both of them will call the Directors in Charge in New York and Washington, and report this tip. Doug will affirm that he believes it is a credible tip, based on the specific nature of the information and so forth, and he'll describe the actions he's taking."

"Good. But if this turns out to be four suitcases filled with porn magazines for Madox's Arab friends, will Doug take the rap? Or will he mention your name?"

She looked at me and asked, "Do you think I'm wrong on this?"

I thought a moment, then replied, "No. I think you're right. Four suitcase nukes. I'm with you."

"Good. Thank you." She continued, "I told Doug to ask for an elevated domestic terrorist threat level."

"That should get the LA office off their surfboards." I reminded her, "This is not actually a domestic threat."

"No. And Bain Madox is not a terrorist ... well, maybe he is. But I couldn't figure out how to classify a plot to send four suitcase nukes overseas, so I said to Doug, 'Treat it like an elevated domestic threat, as long as we believe the suitcases are still in LA and San Francisco.'"

"Good move."

"The FBI in both cities are contacting all the local cab companies to see if any of their drivers remember picking up a male passenger at the taxi line at LAX and SFO, carrying a large, black leather trunk. But I think that's a long shot because, as you know, many of those cabbies are foreigners, and they don't like to talk to the police or FBI."

That was not a politically correct statement from a Federal employee, but when the pressure was on, even the Feds had to retreat into reality.

She continued, "We have a better description of the trunks than of the pilots and co-pilots. So, I asked Doug to call the FAA and get Black and Bellman's license photos e-mailed to the FBI in LA and San Francisco ASAP. Then, I learned, to my amazement, that pilot licenses don't have photos on them."

"Unbelievable. Another incredible example of FAA post-9/11 stupidity."

"So I used the FAA addresses for the pilots to get their state driver's licenses with their photos. Black lives in New York, Bellman lives in Connecticut."

"I see you were busy while I was gone."

"I got real busy after I realized we may be dealing with suitcase nukes."

"Right. And how is Doug?"

"I was too busy to ask him. But he did send you his regards."

"That's nice." Fuck him. "Did he appreciate you telling him how to do his job?"

"John, I had the information, and I'd been thinking about this, and he was ... well, stunned. So, yes, he appreciated my input."

"Good." Also, I recalled he seemed dim-witted.

I thought about this new and exciting development, and my mind was trying to compute all the angles, equations, and possibilities. I said to Kate, "If these pilots went to hotels, and if this is some kind of secret Madox mission, which it seems to be, then these four guys probably checked in under false names."

She nodded. "But we have the real names of the two pilots, so the FBI will have their driver's license photos very soon, if not already." She informed me, "Doug is asking the Kingston regional office in New York to send an agent to the GOCO dispatch office at Stewart Airport to find out who the co-pilots were."