Chapter 23
Posted: July 26, 2007 - 12:43:18 pm


The invitation to attend the swearing in ceremony had been hand delivered by a Secret Service agent at the office. Mike had opened it and read that he had a reserved seat in the back row. He tossed the invitation on his desk and promptly forgot about it. He would have missed the ceremony except that Cathy had watched him open the invitation. When he arrived at work the morning of the ceremony, she asked him what he was doing there.

The trip to the White House had taken almost two hours longer than usual. Listening to the radio, he heard report after report of terrorist actions all around the capitol area. Several embassies had been bombed, a mall had been attacked, a drive-by sniper was shooting people, and bombs had been discovered on several of the bridges. The upshot of his forgetfulness and the traffic delays was that he found that he was approaching the security gate a whole three minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to begin.

Although Mike had expected the security around the White House to be tight, all of the events around the area had drained resources away from it. Capitol Police had been diverted to take care of real emergencies. The majority of security was being provided by young soldiers who were mostly inexperienced in this kind of activity. The problem was that they were a show of force rather than security.

Mike had just gotten into line to enter the grounds of the White House when there was the sound of distant gunfire. He turned to see the military presence move away from the White House to take up positions a little closer to the action. The suited security types had moved inside the grounds of the White House and closed the gate leaving a handful of privates guarding it. Mike looked around and saw that he was standing in a security vacuum.

The thought that things didn't look good crossed his mind at the same time that a lot of excited shouting erupted behind him. He turned and saw people running away from the Old Executive Office Building. They were shouting that there was a bomb on the steps.

Mike looked at the gate and then in the direction of the Old Executive Office Building. He took off in a slow jog in the direction of the building. He figured that if someone from the Bomb Squad didn't show up soon enough, that his education in electrical engineering would come in handy.

There was a white faced security guard standing on the steps watching a backpack. Mike went up to him and asked, "What's the problem?"

"There's a bomb and the timer says that it is going to explode in three minutes," the security guard answered.

"Where's the bomb squad?" Mike asked wondering how it was that the only security person at the building was a rental cop. He wondered where the Secret Service was and then realized they were probably busy taking care of the President Elect. A couple of soldiers had followed him, but they just looked scared.

"They are five minutes away," the man answered. He was seriously considering running away. Keeping a job that paid ten dollars an hour was not worth getting blown up.

"Damn," Mike said. He leaned over and looked inside the backpack. The timer was down to about two and a half minutes. He asked, "Do you have a pocket knife?"

"Are you kidding? Of course not," the security guard answered. With so many security checkpoints almost no one carried pocket knives any more.

Mike looked around and asked, "Does anyone else here know how to dismantle a bomb?"

Seeing that there was no one else around with a clue what to do, Mike knelt down and examined the bomb. He thought he recognized the design. He tapped the center of the cylindrical casing and found that it was hollow confirming his suspicions. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he realized that this wasn't just a little bomb intended to go boom. This was a big bomb that would produce a mushroom cloud. It might be a small mushroom cloud, but it would be large enough to basically take out a city block or two.

An amazing sense of calm settled over him. In a soft voice, he said, "What we have here is a suitcase atomic bomb."

"Oh shit," the security guard said a fraction of a second before he took off running. He didn't know if he was going to get far enough away by running, but he sure was going to try. Deciding that Mike was the only one who even had a clue as to what to do, the soldiers backed away.

Mike folded back the edges of the backpack and examined the bomb a little more carefully. It looked like it was a gun type atomic bomb with two masses of Uranium in a tube separated by a small distance. Explosives at one end of the tube would detonate and force the masses of Uranium together with sufficient force to achieve critical mass. He said, "Yep, an atomic bomb — the simple version."

He looked up to see that the soldiers had backed away even further. Shaking his head, he bent down to examine the bomb to see if he could figure out how it was assembled. It clearly hadn't been built to military specifications. There was a rat's nest of wires. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that most of the wires were just there to confuse the issue. He traced out the wire connecting the timer to the detonator. Mike looked around and shouted, "Does anyone have anything that can cut a wire?"

When no one answered, he knew that he was going to have to brute force the matter. Not seeing another wire connected to the detonator, he said, "If I had something to cut this wire with, we'd be safe. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained."

Mike reached in and grabbed the wire. He pulled it out of the device. The timer continued counting down. It was at forty seconds. Pleased that it hadn't exploded, he said, "It can't be that simple. There must be another detonator in here somewhere. Ah, there it is and there's the wire to it."

With another yank, he pulled the wire from the second detonator. This wire was a lot more difficult to remove. He glanced at the timer and noticed that there were still twenty-eight seconds on it. He looked around trying to see if there were any other detonators, but he didn't spot one. He glanced at the timer and noticed that it was flashing zero. Smiling, he said, "I guess that worked."

He sat down on the steps next a small distance from the backpack. He looked around and spotted the soldiers staring at him. In a somewhat distracted way, he noticed that they were a mixture of Army and Navy. It wasn't even a single service represented. There wasn't a single Sergeant stripe amongst the whole lot of them.

It was at times like this that he wished he smoked. It just seemed like the perfect moment to light up a cigar. Instead, he looked up at the blue sky and considered how close he had come to oblivion. He tried to imagine what the expression would have been on his face when the bomb exploded if he had made it to the ceremony on time instead of showing up late.

He was trying to decide if he would have looked bored by the speeches or surprised by the flash of light when his thoughts were interrupted by a man who asked, "Are you the security guard who called in a bomb?"

"No. He ran off after I told him that it was an atomic bomb," Mike answered. The man was dressed in bulky padding with a plastic shield over his face. The expression on the man's face after hearing that it was an atomic bomb was priceless. Mike said, "Don't worry. I disarmed it."

The man leaned over and looked in the backpack. He could see the numbers flashing zero. Each time the numbers flashed, his sphincter clenched. He was looking at a nightmare that fortunately hadn't ended with a bang. Barely able to talk, the man asked, "How?"

"I pulled the wires off the detonators. There were two of them. One was hidden underneath," Mike answered.

"Pulled?"

"I didn't have anything with which to cut them," Mike answered.

"Damn."

Shaking his head, Mike said, "You know that whole countdown to one thing they always show in the movies?"

"Yes."

"It was disarmed at twenty-eight," Mike said getting up from the steps. More people were approaching them from where the bomb squad had parked their truck. He looked around and asked, "Where's the nearest restroom?"

"I don't know. I'm sure there's one in the building there," the man answered gesturing to the door at the top of the stairs.

"Good. I better find one soon. When my asshole relaxes, I'm going to shit a brick," Mike said heading towards the building.

"What's your name?"

"Mike Bowman." Mike was followed into the building by two members of the bomb squad and a couple of the soldiers. He did manage to find a restroom in time. That was the high point of his afternoon.

After four hours of being grilled by various men in dark suits concerning his role in disarming the bomb, Mike had finally returned to his home. Feeling like he had gone twenty rounds with a heavyweight boxer, all he wanted to do was to relax. Ten minutes after entering the house he was lying on the massage table. As Kim worked over his back, he groaned and said, "That feels so good."

Kim Sung smiled and worked the muscles of his back some more. She'd never felt him so tense and could understand why he had asked her for a massage. Thinking about it, she realized that it was the first time he had ever requested one. Curious, she asked, "Did you have a bad day?"

"I guess you could say that," Mike mumbled. He jumped when she pressed on a particularly tight muscle.

"Just relax. I'll take care of it," Kim said. She had just finished saying that when the doorbell rang.

Mike was off the table and at the door in a flash. The gun from the table by the door was in his hand as if by magic. He peered through the spy hole of the door and recognized the Secret Service Agent. He shouted, "Hold on a minute."

Turning to Kim, he said, "We have company."

It took her a minute to find a robe and give it to him. After putting it on, he opened the door and said, "Hello."

"Hello, Dr. Bowman," the agent replied. He smiled and said, "The President was a little irritated when he looked out in the crowd and saw that you had ditched the ceremony."

"Tell President Archer that I got distracted," Mike said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"He knows."

"Oh," Mike said. He gestured into the house and said, "Come in. I suppose you've got some questions for me."

The agent laughed and said, "I've only got one question for you."

After having been questioned for almost four solid hours, Mike was surprised to learn that they only had one more question for him. He asked, "What?"

"What time can you come to the White House tomorrow to receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom?"

"What are they serving for lunch tomorrow?" Mike asked flippantly.

The agent laughed at the question. Shaking his head, he said, "I have no idea, but I'll tell the President to expect you for lunch."

"Good enough," Mike said.

"You've got balls of brass," the agent said before returning to his car.

Closing the door, Mike turned to Kim and shook his head. In a very soft voice, he said, "It has been a very bad day."

"Hello, Colonel," Mike said when his father entered the front room of his office at the Pentagon.

"Mike! What are you doing here?" Robert Bowman asked surprised to see his son in the bowels of the Pentagon.

"I was on my way home from the White House and decided to say hello," Mike answered.

"How did you get in here?" Robert asked.

Mike held up his ID card and said, "This opens doors in the most surprising places."

"Sometimes I forget that," Robert said with a chuckle. He knew that it had taken a little more than that to get this deep in the building. He glanced at his aide and wondered what Mike had said to him to get him escorted to the office. He gestured towards the door to his private office and said, "Come in. I've got a little time to spare."

"Thanks," Mike said following his father into his private office.

"What were you doing at the White House?" Robert asked.

Mike handed over a nice blue velvet covered case to his father and said, "The President gave me a medal."

His father opened the lid and examined the contents. There was a slight smile on his face when he said, "I'm not sure that I recognize it, but it sure looks like the Presidential Medal of Freedom."

"That's what it is," Mike said.

It pleased Robert that Mike stopped by to share the news, but he was a little disappointed that he hadn't been invited. He asked, "Why didn't you let me know? Your mother and I would have loved to attend the ceremony."

"I didn't know that I could invite anyone," Mike answered looking a little sheepish. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm afraid that my thinking has been a little muddled lately. I do okay at work, but when it comes to social issues I'm totally out of it."

"You used to rely upon Karen for that," Robert said softly. He knew that Mike had relied on Karen for arranging their entire social schedule.

Nodding his head, Mike said, "I really miss her."

"I know you do. She'd be proud of you for earning that medal," Robert said. He looked at his son and said, "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Colonel," Mike said.

"What did you do to earn it?"

"I disarmed a bomb," Mike answered.

Robert's brow wrinkled as he said, "It must have been one hell of a big bomb to earn that medal."

"Bigger than a MOAB," Mike said looking his father in the eye.

"I hope you're kidding," Robert said upon realizing what Mike had insinuated. There were only two kinds of bombs bigger than a MOAB and they both involved atomic energies.

"Nope," Mike answered. He stared at his two twisted fingers for a second and then added, "I guess it wasn't that big of a deal. They told me at the award ceremony that the bomb probably would have failed to operate even without my interference."

"You talk like you are a little detached from reality," Lisa Goodman said looking at Mike over her reading glasses. She was an attractive woman, but presented herself in an austere manner. Her clothes were conservative although they showed off her legs well when she crossed them.

"Detached from reality? I'm not sure that is the right description. I'm numb," Mike said looking at the psychologist. This was his fourth visit to her.

"Numb?" she asked.

"Life has been a little rough lately," Mike said.

"In what way?"

"My wife died over a year ago in the poisoned mall incident. I'll admit that I'm still in mourning over that. Of course I think that is understandable. You see, I really loved her. I was dealing with it pretty well until about two days ago," Mike answered.

"What happened to change things?"

"Two days ago I disarmed an atomic bomb. That's when I started feeling a little numb. As I pulled the wires, it was like nothing could touch me. I remember sitting there afterwards thinking about what would have happened if I had been at the swearing in ceremony instead of going to disarm the bomb. I kept wondering what the expression on my face would have been if the bomb had gone off," Mike said. He wondered if she was going to say that he couldn't return to work.

Lisa looked at Mike wondering if he was making it up. Raising an eyebrow, she said, "Tell me about the bomb."

"There's not too much to say about it," Mike said shrugging his shoulders.

"When was the last time you had a vacation?" Lisa asked believing that he had actually disarmed an atomic bomb. If he was making it up, he'd go into all kinds of generalities about it without giving real details. The fact that he didn't want to talk about it suggested that he didn't want to remember it.

"Not since I graduated college, two or three years ago," Mike answered. In point of fact, it was more than four years.

"I can put in a recommendation that you shouldn't return to work for a couple of weeks or you can tell me that you were about to take a vacation," Lisa said looking at Mike to judge his reaction.

"I was thinking about taking a vacation," Mike said.

"That would be good," Lisa said. She made a notation on his chart and then looked up at him. She said, "Come see me when you get back and before you return to work."

Mike drove into Dodge City, Kansas two days later and pulled into the parking lot of a basic hotel. Entering the lobby, Mike noticed the rack of tourist brochures. The clerk behind the desk was a clean shaven white male. Mike smiled at him and said, "Hello. I have a reservation."

"What's the name?" the young man asked looking down at the computer.

"Mike Bowman," he answered feeling somewhat pleased that he could understand what the young man was saying.

"Thank you," the young man said. He typed a bit and then said, "There it is. It'll just take me a second to get everything done here. I need a credit card, please."

"Here you go," Mike said as he handed over his card.

As the young man ran it through the machine, he asked, "Are you here on business or pleasure?"

"I'm here to relax," Mike answered.

Nodding the young man said, "We have a complimentary breakfast over there in the morning from six until ten. It is just a basic spread with pastries and cold cereals. Since you probably want to take your time in the morning, there's a place down the street that only does breakfast. The service is slow, but the food is good."

"Thank you," Mike said.

"You're welcome," the young man answered. Pointing over to the rack, he said, "There are some brochures over there that describe some of the places to see around here."

"I noticed that on the way in," Mike said looking back at the rack. It was a large wooden rack with little folded brochures filling individual bins. He doubted he would visit any of the places.

"Sorry, it's just that we haven't gotten too many tourists since things went crazy," the young man said. The only thing keeping the hotel open was the small number of businessmen who frequented the area.

"I know. Tourism has dropped off significantly," Mike replied. He had been surprised at the cheap deals that were available around the country.

"Nothing ever happens here," the young man said.

Nodding his head, Mike said, "I know that. I came here because there hasn't been a single terrorist incident in this area."

"Well, the Sheriff has asked that we inform him if anyone suspicious checks in. He watches foreigners pretty close. Everyone watches foreigners around here," the young man said.

"It seems to work," Mike said feeling a little relieved to be in an area that applied a bit of common sense to the problem of terrorism.

"Well, I hope that Anthony Archer can clean things up in the rest of the country. I'd hate to be living in New York City," the young man said shaking his head. He couldn't imagine living in an area where they had suicide bombers blowing themselves up every day. He said, "Oh, I need to see a photo ID."

Mike showed him his ID and said, "No problem."

"Ah, you're from Homeland Security. We've been getting quite a few of you guys coming here to rest," the young man said with a smile.
Lazlo Zalezac
Chapter 24