OCT. 22 ‘25 // There’s got to be a way to stop this thing!” “But Jamil isn’t pressing the button,” Rachamim protested. “I don’t think that matters. I can’t believe bin Laden would take chances with this. I’m virtually certain that Jamil’s job was to bring the detonator to the right location where the bomb will sense it, but that it will go off on its own.” Rachamim stared at the buzzing detonator. “So does this mean it’s already started sensing the bomb?” “Yes!” Arthur practically shouted. “We have almost no time left!” “What about the batteries?” Rachamim suggested. Arthur poked and prodded at the device, but there was no battery compartment. “It’s sealed,” he muttered. His face was covered in sweat. Arthur glanced frantically around the room. His eyes lit up when he spotted a rusty sink in the corner. “Water! I’ll submerge it in the sink! Water should destroy the mechanism!” Rachamim watched as Arthur rushed to the sink. He tried to turn on the water, but the handle was stuck. Back and forth he twisted it, exerting all his strength—until the handle snapped off in his hand. Two minutes left. “ETA to LAX, two minutes,” the helicopter pilot reported. He twisted a dial on his radio. “Tower, this is special flight X Alpha Zulu 86, requesting permission to land, over.” “X Alpha Zulu, runway fifteen has been cleared for you.” That runway was closest to the terminal. It had been closed for the past fifteen minutes. “I’m beginning to lower my altitude,” the pilot announced to both the White House communications room and the flight controller. “I’m approaching the airport from the southeast, at an altitude of nine thousand feet.” “X Alpha Zulu, land right next to the terminal,” the controller radioed. “There are security forces standing by for your, ah, special passengers.” “Roger.” Slowly, the helicopter began its descent. Arthur had dropped his cell phone on the desk in his mad rush to deactivate the device. He was staring, dumbstruck, at the broken handle in his hand when his phone began to ring. Rachamim looked at Arthur, who made no move toward the desk to get his phone. He hesitated a moment, then picked it up himself. “Hello?” “Who is this?” the FBI director demanded. “Where’s Arthur?” “It’s Rachamim. Arthur is … Arthur is …” “What’s wrong?” Arthur leaped across the room and grabbed the phone. “It’s all over! Do you understand? It’s finished! We’re all going to die! One minute left!” “What are you talking about, Arthur?” “I can’t deactivate the detonator! It’s going to go off ! That bomb is going to explode in exactly one minute!” “One minute?” the FBI director repeated. “One minute,” the Defense Secretary said, intent on the radio link to the aircraft. “One minute until they land.” One minute left … a military aircraft … one minute … Abruptly the pieces came together in the director’s mind. He suddenly realized exactly where the bomb was—and how it was getting into the United States. “Stop the helicopter! Did you hear me? STOP! ” Silence. Everyone stared at him in shock. The FBI director spoke quickly. “I know where the bomb is. Stop that helicopter, have it turn around and get as far away from the airport as possible.” When no one moved, the FBI director dashed across the room and grabbed the microphone from the captain who was monitoring the radio link to the helicopter. “Stop descending immediately and get away from the airport!” “Wait a minute. Who is this?” the pilot demanded. He had already started preparing for landing. The Secretary of Defense finally moved. “You’d better know what you’re doing,” he muttered, before taking the microphone from the FBI director. “This is the Secretary of Defense. Do what he said.” The order was greeted with silence. For the last few hours the pilot had been pushing his aircraft to fly at top speed, breaking all safety rules, so he could arrive at the airport quickly. Now, at the very last moment, he was being given orders to do the exact opposite. “Are you sure?” the pilot asked incredulously. “Yes, I’m sure. Acknowledge!” “Acknowledged,” the pilot said. He related the orders to his copilot, and together they made the dangerous midair turn. The Defense Secretary turned to the FBI director. 174
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