The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [131]
The first three cop cars came around the bluff from the south, and stopped about fifty yards from the van. Now, I figured, we’d see just how disciplined the boys in the van were. If they fired even one round, they were all as good as dead. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
“Let’s let ’em stew until we have a lot of people here,” said Volont, “and then get ’em out of the van.”
I looked around. We were pretty much alone, with the nearest fireman behind the truck. It was now or never.
“Look,” I said. “This is all out of proportion. Way the hell out. What’s really happening, here?”
I waited a very long ten seconds. Very quiet, except for the muted roar of the fire truck engine.
“Let’s go back over here,” said Volont, pointing to the edge of the bluff about a hundred feet behind the fire truck. “Where we don’t have to shout.”
We stood close to the bluff, and he told me what Gabriel was really doing. Well, that’s what he said. I don’t doubt him.
“I’ve been on Gabriel several years,” he said. “You know that.”
Yeah, I did.
Was I aware of the term “weapons of mass destruction”?
“You mean, like, nuclear, chemical… biological things?”
He did. Apparently, this had all started for Volont when the Soviet Union began to dissolve. “You know what the acronyms ADM, MADM, or SADM stand for?”
No, I didn’t.
“That’s atomic demolition munitions, medium atomic demolition munitions, and small atomic demolition munitions. Know what they are?”
“‘Atomic’ rings a bell,” I said, sarcastically.
“Right. Well, in the U.S. Army, those are small nuclear devices used like land mines. They were developed to block tunnels and things, blow up harbor facilities, to stop the Soviets when they invaded Western Europe. Engineering tools.”
He made them sound like bulldozers.
“The Soviets had the same sort of thing.” He flashed a tight smile. “For when Western Europe invaded them, no doubt.”
“That figures…”
“So, first of all, Gabe resigns his commission, and makes noises like he’s going to start his own little state out west. Fill it with his followers, and declare independence from the U.S.A.” He looked up. “Of course, secession meets with disapproval at the federal level.” He smiled again.
“He’s going to war?” I asked, incredulous. “He’s nuts.”
“Not exactly. Our people on the inside say he puts it this way … The only countries that gain respect from the U.S. government are nuclear powers. Therefore he wants some nuclear weapons. As a deterrent. To ensure his independence.”
“Jesus H. Christ.”
“The devices came on the market after the Soviets went belly up. That’s when I got involved. Back in ‘95, he made inquiries, and was told that it would cost ten million bucks.” He shrugged. “Cheap, but they’re only about five kilotons or so of yield. The higher yields, twenty-plus kilotons or megaton range devices, they go for a hundred million.”
“Nuclear suitcase bombs,” I said. “My God.”
“Well, not ‘suitcase.’ These weigh over one thousand pounds in the packing crates. We would classify them as ADMs, actually.”
“He could deliver them in a pickup truck,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. They’re also designed to work underwater. Lots of possibilities. And much easier to use than missile warheads, for example. No fusing options like impact, proximity, delay…”
“God.”
“But that’s why he needs the money. He’s a bit short. That’s why he’s going to try to take even the coins. Time is running out, and he’s afraid somebody else is going to buy the devices.”
“Oh. Well, sure.” A nuclear layaway plan had never occurred to me.
“He was trying for the banks last time. Just didn’t get it done. But he has the plan, he has the volunteers, he has the infrastructure, right here. So he comes back.” He shrugged again. “Nothing personal, but Nation County is easy pickings.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a warrior, with a war, Houseman. He doesn’t want to kill the people on the boat. Really. Would be bad for ‘international relations,’ once his little private country is set up.” He paused, and then, “But he will