Patriot by M.A. Rothman (summer reading list TXT) 📗

point. Best case, she’d only get far enough away that the explosion would burn her so badly she’d wish she’d died—and the radiation exposure would kill her shortly thereafter. She was committed, for better or for worse.

“All right, walk over to the crate so I can get a better look,” Brice said. “We’re going to take this one step at a time, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Pop the clasps around the top of the crate.”

Annie flinched every time one of the three clasps popped free, expecting the bomb to go off at any time.

“You’re going to have to speed this up. The truck is still moving, and we’ve only got about ten miles until we hit downtown DC.”

Annie blew out an exasperated breath. “I don’t want to accidentally set this damned thing off, Marty.’

“I know.”

She opened the lid, revealing a compartment with a form-fitting foam top that lifted off a mass of electrical components, cables, circuit boards, and multicolored wires. At the center of everything was a sphere the size of a soccer ball, covered in identical hexagonal segments. Red and white wires ran from each segment to an electronic control board on the left side of the crate, where still more wires branched off, running to multiple power leads and data ports.

“Aw, hell,” Annie said. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. I’m going to help you. We’re a team.”

“You’re going to help me blow myself up. Marty, what the hell am I doing here with a damn nuclear bomb?”

The trailer rocked slightly as it bounced along the road, and the container rocked with the motion, making Annie’s heart skip a beat. She stepped back, hands in the air as if surrendering to the thing.

“It’s all right, Annie. Trust me. It’s made it this far on the highway with plenty of bumps and stops. It’s not just going to accidentally go off now.”

Annie blew out a long breath, trying to calm her nerves.

“Pan around so I can see everything,” Brice said. Thanks to the tiny cameras embedded in her smart-lenses, he could see everything she was seeing. “It definitely looks like it has a remote trigger, though I can’t tell if it’s a dead man’s switch or just a remote det. The power source is underneath the sphere, so there’s probably no getting to that, and we don’t want to risk collapsing the circuit.”

“Marty, just tell me what to do. How do I disarm this thing?”

“I’m not sure disarming it is going to be possible,” Brice said.

“Then what in the actual hell am I doing here?”

“Relax, I—”

Annie jabbed a finger at the device in front of her. “Don’t you fucking tell me to relax. You’re not the one messing with a goddamn nuclear bomb. Don’t do that.”

“All right, I’m sorry. But listen, with the setup he’s got here, if we start cutting wires and disconnecting leads, we run the risk of setting the thing off. But I’m fairly confident we can make it so the bomb won’t actually go nuclear when it goes off.”

“You mean you still want this thing to blow up?”

“Yes. But it’s not what you think.”

“How can blowing up the nuke not be what I think?”

“Okay, so you see those hexagonal panels around that sphere? Those are explosive panels surrounding the uranium with a plutonium pit. At least, that’s what the records show for the B43 nuke. Anyway, those explosives are positioned so that when they’re set off at the exact same moment, it squeezes the contents of the material, starting a chain reaction that causes the nuclear explosion. If even one of those panels is out of alignment, the nuclear detonation won’t happen—you’ll just get a fizzle. Basically a dirty bomb. You’ll still get a pretty big bang, but not the city-destroying kind.”

“Okay, so how do I do that? Just cut the red wire, right?” Annie brought her knife out of her pocket and flicked the blade open. “That’s always the right answer?”

“No, don’t cut that!” Brice blurted out.

“I’m not cutting anything.” Annie heard Brice sigh, then said, “Anytime you want to start helping…”

“Okay, don’t cut any of the wires. It wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a collapsing circuit installed. Meaning if the electricity flowing through the circuit gets interrupted in any way, it blows. But it looks like…” Brice trailed off.

“Marty, speak to me. What do you see?”

“It looks like whoever put this thing together wired in a delay. Though I don’t understand why they’d need a delay with a remote detonation trigger.”

“What is it? Like a safety or something?”

“No,” Brice said. “No, once you trigger this thing it’s going to go off. Hold on, I’m modeling the casing.”

Annie listened to the sounds of the road and traffic around her. The truck lurched—they must have hit a pothole or something. Instinctively, she braced herself against the container in front of her.

“Marty, we don’t have all day!”

“It’s okay, I think I’ve figured it out.”

“You think?”

“What you’re going to want to do is pry up one of those panel charges.”

“You want me to pry up a panel of explosives?” Annie asked.

“Correct. Depending on the explosive type, the panels might be hard or putty-like. Use your knife to pry one of them up. Just, for the love of God, don’t disturb any of the wires.”

Annie shook her head, eyeing the paper-thin separations between the hexagonal panels. “This is so stupid.”

She carefully slid the tip of her knife into the thin gap. Her mind screamed at her to stop, but she pressed on, wedging the blade firmly in the crack.

“That’s it. Easy does—”

“Brice! Shut the hell up.”

“Sorry.”

The trailer continued to rock as she worked the blade deeper into the gap. It took a good bit of effort to get the blade in far enough, and then she started prying. She held her breath as she gently began lifting the panel. The farther she brought it out, the tighter the wires attached to the center of the panel became.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get it out