check the can again。 You want to sec some ID？”
Masarek approached the sentry with a sure； soundless stride。 With one hand； he undipped the
badge on his shirt pocket。 The sentry held out his hand for the ID。 The badge was cool in his
palm； shining with reflected light。 The sentry compared Masarek’s face to the picture on the
badge。
At the last instant； the sentry sensed something was wrong。 He started to raise his gun。 There was
a blur of movement as the edge of Masarek’s hand slashed across the sentry’s throat。 The blow
was deflected by the man’s desperate twist； so that he was stunned rather than killed outright。 He
retched convulsively； trying to breathe through a crushed throat。
Masarek’s gun extended from his hand like a silver finger。 The report was shockingly soft；
almost inaudible beneath the sound of rain。 The bullet exploded in the sentry’s brain； killing him
before he could blink。
“Quickly！” said Masarek； his voice quiet yet urgent； signaling Refugio forward with a curt
motion of the gun。
Refugio and his men stepped out of the shadows。 For the next few minutes they would be
wholly vulnerable； sharing a warehouse with a murdered sentry and a Top Secret shipment。
Masarek grabbed the sentry； holding him upright while he pulled the back of the dead man’s
peacoat over the back of the metal chair。 When he let go； the sentry stayed upright； held by the
rigid chair inside his jacket。 asarek pulled down the sentry’s watch cap so
that the tiny black circle in the center of his forehead did not show。 When Masarek was finished；
the sentry appeared to be staring off into the distance； wide…eyed； unblinking。
“Wirecutters。”
Masarek’s command was soft； yet Lopez leaped forward as though cut by a whip。 He took the
wirecutters from Salvador and went to the padlocked storeroom door。 His hands shook。 The
wirecutters turned uselessly and slipped off the padlock’s case…hardened loop。 Masarek took the
cutters； shifted their grip to the softer metal of the hasp and dispatched the lock in one neat
stroke。
A rectangle of hard light from the warehouse expanded silently across the tiny room。 In the
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center of the light squatted a small cylinder。 Only Masarek knew that its code name was Bronx
and that it was the key to the world。
Refugio stepped into the room； unable to believe that there was nothing more inside it than this
unimpressive little garbage can。
“Is that all？” said Refugio； gesturing contemptuously at the canister。 “That’s not big enough to
hold two million dollars in gold。”
“No；” agreed Masarek； “it isn’t。”
“You said – “
“I said nothing about gold。” Masarek’s smile increased until its cruelty became unmistakable。
“Fool。 That ugly little can cost one billion dollars。”
“Hijo；” whispered Refugio； awed by an amount that transcended even his avarice。 “Diamonds？”
For an instant； Masarek’s contempt gleamed out of his shadowed eyes。 But when he spoke； his
voice was neutral。 “Not diamonds。 Power。”
“I don’t understand；” said Refugio。 “What – “
“You aren’t being paid to understand。 Take the can to the truck。”
Masarek stepped back； trying to keep his elation from showing。 He had already said too much；
but it did not matter。 Refugio and his men would be dead before they could give away any
secrets。
At Refugio’s signal； Salvador stepped up； gripped the canister’s handle； and was nearly pulled
off of his feet。 The canister contained 200 pounds of lead shielding。 Masarek watched Salvador’s
veins thicken and pulse across his forehead until the claw…shaped scar was crimson。 The canister
rocked； lifted； then settled with a clang onto the cement floor。
“Get back；” Masarek said。
Salvador stepped back； watching contemptuously as the smaller man tested the canister’s weight。
Masarek could barely rock the can。 He stared at it； assessing the unexpected barrier it
represented。
Even if they could lift the can； its awkward； unexpected bulk would slow them dangerously。
Worse； once Refugio and his men were dead； Masarek and Vanessa would not be able to move
the canister by themselves。
“Open it；” said Masarek； stepping back。
Salvador worked over the heavy latches that secured the lid of the canister。 They opened stiffly。
With a grunt； Salvador lifted off the heavy lid。 A piece of silver…white metal with the blunt…nosed
shape of a bullet gleamed inside the thick…walled canister。 Though the piece of metal was barely
bigger than Salvador’s fist； it was surprisingly heavy。
Carefully； Salvador lifted out and set aside the hunk of metal。 It wobbled on the concrete floor；
then settled on its blunt nose。
The next piece inside the can was a plug of slate…colored metal。 Beneath the plug was a second
piece of pale metal； nearly three times the size of the first piece。 It was spherical and contained an
indentation the size and shape of the blunt bullet。
Salvador set the larger sphere next to the smaller one。 He did not notice the faint blue glow that
licked over the facing surfaces of the spheres。
Masarek looked at the three pieces of metal and decided quickly to leave the cylinder。 Vanessa
had spoken only of the two white pieces of metal。
“Tell Lopez to get the small piece；” said Masarek。 “Salvador； the large one。 No；” he said； as
Refugio bent to retrieve the dark cylinder。 “We don’t need that one。 It will just get in the way。”
The vague blue glow died as Lopez removed the smaller piece of pale metal。 Salvador picked up
his piece awkwardly。
“Madre；” he muttered in Spanish； “it’s as warm as a woman’s breast。”
“What did he say？” snapped Masarek。
Refugio shrugged。 “Nothing。 It feels to him like a woman’s breast。”
Masarek made a sound of disgust。 “Tell them to move quickly。 If someone finds us now； we’re
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as dead as that sentry。”
They hurried to the van； drove quickly between rows of weapons； then headed toward the gate。
Before the rain stopped； the laundry truck with Chinese ideographs and the number 7 on its
door left Hunters Point as easily as it had entered。
Alamogordo Test Range
Trinity Site Base Camp
7 Minutes Before Trinity
The desert was cold and black beneath ragged clouds。 It had rained intermittently through the
night； and lightning had walked along the stretch of land known as Jornada del Muerto。 Journey
of Death。
Nine miles from Ground Zero； General Groves waited in a small bunker。 A short distance away；
Dr。 Robert Oppenheimer and his senior staff paced in other bunkers； trying not to show what
the delays had cost their nerves。
The test should have been over； success or failure measured on a thousand instruments； but
nothing was ended； nothing settled。 Rare summer showers had delayed the 0200 test and then
the 0300 test； stretching men’s control； making them overreact to distant thunder。
General Groves waited； outwardly impassive。 Earlier he had marched Oppenheimer up and
down the base camp； trying to relax the brilliant； nervous scientist。 Relaxation was impossible。
Each flurry of cold rain； each delay； had heightened the tension until Groves decided to test the
bomb at 0530； come hell or high water。
He regretted that the weather would keep one of Colonel Tibbets’ men from overlying the site
in a B…29； but the test itself was more important than the flight。 Tibbets would just have to wait
until Japan to see what kind of air turbulence was generated by an atomic bomb。
Though it was futile in the darkness； Groves found himself peering toward the 100…foot…high
steel tower。 Suspended inside that tower was a plutonium bomb； impervious to the fears and
aspirations of men； illuminated by the random brilliance of lightning。
A man stood next to Groves； staring into the dark as the General was staring。 A match flared；
then seemed to divide in two as the end of the man’s cigaret ignited。 The man was dressed in
civilian clothes； although his posture was military。 Groves knew his name was Lattimer； but had
never learned his first name。
“I still don’t like it；” said Lattimer。 “We bust our asses keeping this a secret； and then you pass
information to a goddamn Jap spy。 I hope Finn got him in real close。 Be the last thing that
bastard sees this side of hell。”
Groves turned toward Lattimer； whose face was suddenly illuminated by the glow of a cigaret。
“You better hope Kestrel survives。 Then the war hawks on Tojo’s cabinet will have something
new to think about。 Or would you rather end the war one Jap at a time？”
“No。 I’ve been there； General。 Anything is better than that。” The man’s cigaret glowed as he
took a long breath。 His hands dropped to the heavily smoked glasses he had been issued。
“Christ！ Why don’t they get this show on the road！”
Alamogordo Test Range
3 Minutes Before Trinity
Kestrel sat in his parked car； a darker shade of black against the desert night。 Each minute was
one closer to sunrise； and the near…certainty that he would be discovered； yet he waited with
unflinching patience。
Less than twenty minutes until dawn。 Kestrel wondered if the test had been screened from him
by ragged curtains of unseasonable rain。 If so； the weapon was not what he feared and dawn
would come only once today。
With narrowed eyes； Kestrel examined the surrounding la