Page 138 of Eruption

Mac and Raley watched in wonder as the glowing molten lava fresh from Mauna Loa hit the solid, ancient topography of Mauna Kea—and made a sharp westward turn, flowing across the grassy plains south of Waimea on its way to Waikoloa Beach and the Pacific Ocean.

The action was both unexpected and unpredictable, as if, in the end, the volcanoes had made the only life-and-death choice that mattered.

And they had made the choice for Raley and Mac.

Raley shook his head, eyes wide. “Tell me what just happened down there.”

Mac waited until he was finally breathing normally again.

Then Dr. John MacGregor, man of science, smiled at the pilot.

“Nature just happened,” he said. “Isn’t that something. I can’t believe what we just saw.” Then Mac let out a whoop. So did Raley.

The Eagle was flying on only one engine, but it was enough for Raley to land the plane safely.

In the end, it had been lava that saved the world.

EPILOGUE

Four Weeks Later

CHAPTER 107

Colonel James Briggs had correctly predicted that, working around the clock, it would take four weeks to pack and remove the 642 canisters from the cave.

One less than when they had started their mission.

Throughout the process, no one had said the wordsAgent Black.No one dared.

Not even now that its lethal threat, having gotten out on the island, was once again contained.

The soldiers who had begun the original cleanup inside the Ice Tube had been transferred stateside. That left a small emergency crew in hazmat suits working the crane on one of the army’s fleet of specially cushioned Heavy Expanded Mobility Tactical Trucks.

The last load of canisters would be transported the way the others had, via the Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USSGeorge Washington,currently docked off the Port of Hilo. The ship from the U.S. Seventh Fleet had left Japan and was headed to a scheduled docking in Bremerton, Washington, providing the perfect military cover story: theGeorge Washingtonhad stopped here for repairs before continuing its journey to the mainland.

Even the sailors in the warship’s hazardous material division did not know what chemicals they were transporting across the Pacific.

General Mark Rivers and Mac watched from down the hill as the last of Rivers’s soldiers made their way out of the cave. They had just completed one final blasting with flamethrowers. Every inch of the lava tube had been scrubbed down and tested for radiation.

“You’re really not going to tell me where those canisters will be stored?” Mac asked Rivers.

Rivers squinted into the morning sun, then grinned. “What canisters?” he said.

Mac turned and shook Rivers’s hand.

“It was an honor serving with you, sir,” Mac said, surprised at how emotional he felt.

In the end, it was as if they’d been through a war together.

Rivers continued to smile. “The honor was mine, Dr. MacGregor.”

Rivers got into his jeep and drove away, following the transport vehicle. Before Mac got into his own jeep, he took one last, long look up the hill. Then he reached into his wallet and pulled out two pieces of folded-up paper.

The notations General Arthur Bennett had made in his hospital room that night in Honolulu were now in Mac’s possession, thanks to Colonel Briggs.

Mac examined the one with Bennett’s drawing on it: a lopsided circle surrounded by a series of shaky, arc-shaped lines.

Then he looked at the other one. Some of the letters were still hard to make out:I-C-E-T-U-B-B.