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my recommendations for evacuation of the inland areas.”

Wilson joined against her. “Even if we get people, valuables, and equipment out, the state will go to ruin unless we get rid of the water.”

“And a nuke won’t ruin the state?”

“Not necessarily,” Smith said. “Tactical nuclear weapons are designed for minimum radioactive fallout. They’re meant to be used in proximity to our own troops.”

“Exactly,” Ashley said. “Since the blasts in the Nevada desert, they have come a long way in controlling radiation. Now they can make a dirty bomb that spews radiation like a burst water balloon or a bomb that has dialable explosive power with relatively contained radiation.”

Baldwin didn’t like the fact that all three of her companions had lined up against her.

“I don’t like the term relatively contained,” Baldwin said. “That’s a weasel phrase. What does it mean in people killed? Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands? What? Tell me.”

“None,” Ashley said. “Few people live in Pacheco Pass. With a day’s warning, we can get everyone out of there with ease.”

“But the radiation hangs around,” Baldwin said.

“It does not radiate if it is buried,” Ashley said. “It just lies there, and we can quarantine the area.”

“For how long?” Baldwin asked, and her tone let them know she was losing patience.

Ashley sounded frustrated. “I do not know. I did an internet research for a couple of hours. I know that today, the radiation in Hiroshima and Nagasaki does not exceed that of other places in the world. Three Mile Island and Fukushima are safe communities for family living.” He hesitated. “On the other hand, no one can live inside a thirty-kilometer square around Chernobyl.”

“What are you saying?” Baldwin demanded. “That nuclear bombs are safe? Come on.”

“No. I just saying it is a possibility,” Ashley said. “A possibility preferable to drowning and bankrupting California. But to fully evaluate the option, we need scientists who know what they are talking about. We need real experts to look at this.”

The students jabbered away or sat quietly, reading textbooks. None seemed to pay any attention to them, and they had no idea about the gravity of their discussion.

Smith put a hand on Ashley’s forearm. “Listen, this isn’t going anywhere unless the governor approves a formal assessment, and he’s not going to do that. Never. And I don’t blame him. We’ve let ourselves get carried away. If MOAB bombs could do the job, that would be different, but no one in authority is going anywhere near nuclear. Okay?”

“All right by me,” Baldwin said.

Ashley puffed up. “I know how to do this.”

“What?” Smith sounded incredulous. “What are you? Some kind of mad scientist? Dr. Strangelove? This isn’t going anywhere. Why can’t you understand that?”

Ashley was not dissuaded. “Let us write a memo to Gleason suggesting the use of MOABs in conjunction with deep-penetration conventional bunker busters. No nuclear. If he accepts it as a potential option, we can get some experts on it.”

“Damn you, Jon,” Baldwin said. “You know damn well that if we start down this path, it will eventually lead to exactly where you want. You get your nuclear option with someone else presenting the recommendation. You even have a cover-your-ass memorandum to show that you never broached the idea of nuclear weapons. That’s pure Machiavellian.”

Ashley smiled. “Indeed.”

Chapter 41

Evarts drove into Lompoc to discover that the previous night’s disarray had evaporated in the clear light of day. Except, despite the cliché, there was no clear light. The light rain continued. Constant cloud cover and all-pervading dampness exasperated Evarts, but he took comfort in how well Captain Standish had reestablished order. On his way into town, he had cruised by the flooded neighborhood and saw at least a hundred airmen clearing debris and looking for bodies. The checkpoint hardly slowed traffic, police patrols augmented by MPs visibly cruised the town, and a sense of order permeated the station house. Standish had done an excellent job as a civic leader.

He found her on the telephone in the chief’s office.

When she finished her call, he said, “Good afternoon, Captain. I brought back your city property. Any idea where I can find my truck?”

“It should be here in a few minutes. I called Jim O’Brian and told him you were on your way.” She smiled. “He didn’t seem happy to part with the Raptor.”

“If he needs it, he can drive me home.”

“He just might. Heard you ran into a buzz saw in Solvang. Did you really get in a shootout with a bunch of Santa Maria gangbangers?”

“What did the news say?” Evarts asked.

“Beats me. I’ve been otherwise occupied. You left me with quite a mess to clean up.”

Evarts laughed. “I would have traded places if I’d known how the night would go.”

“Seriously, one of my officers said it sounded brutal. Automatic weapons and lots of officers killed. Was it that bad?”

“Yes. Sheriff Lopez and Chief Prentice are dead, along with most of the Solvang force. We fought back, and they took heavy casualties, plus we jailed about twenty. Between the flood and the gang raid, Solvang won’t recover for a long time.”

“Wow. And the whole upper echelon of Lompoc dead as well. Maybe I should reconsider trying out for the chief position here.”

“Have there been any discussions?” Evarts asked.

“Like I said, I’ve been otherwise occupied, but the mayor stopped by and told me the post is mine if I want it. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

“If you can get it, take it. I’m tired of you ambitious upstarts barking at my heels. Good riddance.”

She smiled at his weak humor. “I don’t bark at heels, I nip them.”

She opened a desk drawer, pulled something out, and tossed it to him. He automatically caught the tin of Band-Aids.

“For your little owie.”

He tossed the tin back at her. “Keep these. You’ll discover your own heel-nippers just outside this office. Comes with the terrain.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Standish said.

A voice behind Evarts said, “What other way is there?”

“Hi, Jim,” Evarts said. “Find any live ones?”

“Unfortunately, no,” O’Brian

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