Chapter 55

U.S. Military Reserve, Hawai‘i

In the office the general had taken over for the duration, Rivers said nothing about the situation on the ground involving dead soldiers who'd basically exited the Ice Tube under a death sentence.

And who might have made a stop or two before they arrived at their party cabin in the woods above Hilo.

"I fought wars in the Middle East," Rivers said. "I lived in a world of IEDs and lunatics with explosives strapped to their chests. And I sit here now knowing how close this eruption is, and I feel like this whole island has become a potential roadside bomb."

He put his elbows on his desk and his face in his hands.

"And now, on top of that, because some of the people in my command thought the rules didn't apply to them, I might have a budding pandemic on my hands," Rivers said. "Except with this one, you get burned to a fucking crisp."

Mac had changed back into his sweater and jeans. His hazmat suit had been collected. He had been checked and rechecked for radiation and pronounced clear.

For now,he thought.

"Do we tell the others about what I just witnessed?" Mac asked Rivers. "And do you tell them about the body in the cave?"

"Not even at gunpoint," Rivers said.

"I hate keeping things from my team," Mac said.

"They need to focus on what's about to happen at the top of that mountain," Rivers said.

"You're right."

The smallest of smiles crossed Rivers's lips. "Had to happen eventually." He got up and went to get more coffee. "I'm bringing boats into the Port of Hilo starting this morning," Rivers said. "We need to evacuate as much of the town as we can."

"The entire town?" Mac said.

"We don't have enough time for that," Rivers said. "We're using your schematics, going through the areas that we think are most vulnerable and telling people they need to leave. The way they do on the mainland when there's a hurricane coming."

"I can't disagree with that," Mac said.

Rivers shrugged. "Martial law," he said. "And I'm the marshal."

"You're doing what you need to do," Mac said. "I assume you always have."

The general sat back down and said to Mac, "I need you, Dr. MacGregor, now more than ever. Maybe even more than I thought I did." Before Mac could respond, Rivers held up a hand. "I'm a fast learner," he said. "Always have been, all the way back to the academy. First in my fucking class. I'm a smart bastard. But really smart bastards know what they don't know and know when they're out of their depth." He smiled, barely. "You see where I'm going with this?"

"Tell me what you need from me," Mac said.

"For the rest of this day and for as long as it takes, I need you to be the one calling the shots on how we protect those death canisters," Rivers said. "Although I want it to look and sound as if I'm the one calling those shots."

Mac needed to get out of here and get with Rebecca. But he knew this was important too. Now Mac was the one smiling. "You are a smart bastard."

"We'll still be speaking with one voice," Rivers said. "I want to make that clear."

Mac could see how difficult it was for a man who was so powerful, a man who had command and authority encoded in his DNA, to give up control like this.

To subordinate himself like this.

"But that voice will be your voice, starting right here and right now," Rivers said.

The general stood and reached across his desk. Mac stood and shook his hand, feeling in that moment as if he were saluting.

"Now you tell me what you need from me," Rivers said.

And Mac did.