Medusa's Child by John J. Nance

For thirty-year-old captain Scott McKay, the transport run from Miami to Denver will give him the money he desperately needs to keep his fledgling air cargo company flying. When a mysterious crate is discovered on his plane, however, McKay is ordered to abandon his present course and fly the crate and its owner, Vivian Henry, to Washington, D.C., before going to Denver. McKay takes the forced detour in stride - until a strange noise comes from deep inside the crate. It is the voice of Vivian's husband, Dr. Rogers Henry, warning that the shipment they are carrying is actually a fully armed Medusa device, a thermonuclear bomb that can destroy every computer chip over an entire continent, and blast the Silicon Age back to the Stone Age. And it is set to go off within hours. As panic spreads from the small community of nuclear scientists who used to work for Dr. Rogers Henry to the White House and eventually to the general public, a group of rogue military officers conspires to disobey the President's orders and secure the technology of the Medusa device, whatever the cost. Will Captain McKay and his crew trust their own instincts to dispose of the bomb, or will they let a misguided government dictate their actions? Editorial Reviews Amazon.com Review If you miss the great airborne adventures of writers like the late Ernest K. Gann, John Nance might help take up some of the slack. His Pandora's Clock--it became a TV movie--featured a nasty virus rampant at 35,000 feet. His latest has the widow of a world-class scientist trying to deliver to the Pentagon an invention that could shut down computers everywhere, thus ending civilization (and online bookselling) as we know it. Lots of hairy, if somewhat implausible, action--sure to be exploited in another TV movie. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From School Library Journal YA?From the intriguing jacket cover to the final page, suspense abounds in this thrilling novel. When Scott McKay, captain of his private cargo plane, takes on two passengers and their cargo crates, he and his crew discover that they are in for the flight of their lives. While over Washington, DC, a strange noise comes from deep inside the crate owned by Vivian Henry. It is the voice of her husband, a nuclear scientist who was believed dead. The people onboard are informed that the shipment that they are carrying is a fully armed Medusa device, a thermonuclear bomb that will not only kill millions of people, but can also destroy every computer chip on the continent, blasting the country back into the Stone Age. It is set to go off within hours. Panic erupts in the world of nuclear scientists who used to work for Dr. Henry, for they realize that this threat is a real possibility. Fear spreads through the White House and the general public, as a group of rogue military officers conspire to secure the bomb at any cost. Captain McKay and his crew soon discover that they are being deceived, and that everyone's life is in danger. Mistrust, deceit, and spine-chilling action flow from every page of this story.?Anita Short, W. T. Woodson High School, Fairfax, VA Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From Kirkus Reviews Retired airline and Air Force pilot Nance improves steadily, this time borrowing from his own plot for Pandora's Clock (1995) but leaving out the romance. Former Navy pilot Scott McKay has started up his own airline for hauling air freight. Things are going well--until he discovers while in flight that a crate he's carrying holds an armed 20-megaton hydrogen bomb hitched to a deadly new device that will send out an electromagnetic shock wave. The wave's superpulse will turn every computer chip in the US into stone. Planes now aloft will be helpless, and the entire financial and banking system will collapse, bringing on worldwide chaos. All defense systems as well will destruct--and as many as a million people may die when the bomb goes off with the force of a hundred Hiroshimas. McKay discovers this horror while circling Washington, D.C., awaiting landing instructions. Will D.C. be wiped out and uninhabitable for a thousand years? McKay has two crew members on board and two passengers. One is Vivian Henry, whose late husband, a disgruntled defense physicist, created the bomb and sealed it into a steel case armed with sensors that will set it off should its case be tampered with. Simultaneously, the worst hurricane in recorded history is chewing up the East Coast like a titanic lawnmower. The other passenger is Doctor Linda McCoy, a hugely intelligent meteorologist just back from Antarctica and riding herd on some secret instruments of her own in the hold. Meanwhile, the FBI, the Air Force, defense experts, and the President try to get McKay to land so that bomb experts can dismantle the ticking bomb. McKay refuses- -the bomb is beyond dismantling--and heads out to sea into the storm. Then things get worse . . . . Nothing new, maybe, but a thriller that grips and absolutely doesn't let go. (First printing of 100,000) -- Copyright ?1996, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From Library Journal Even from the grave, nuclear physicist Rogers Henry is determined to castigate the wife who left him and the nation that devalued his services. Two years after her ex-husband's death, Vivian Henry agrees to accompany his lifelong project to the Pentagon. She doesn't know that what she is transporting is a thermonuclear bomb that, upon detonation, will kill millions and immobilize U.S. computer, telecommunication, financial, and transportation systems. While airborne, the ex-navy pilot at the controls and the hapless passengers discover the bomb when it diabolically informs them that it will explode in three and a half hours. Nance (Pandora's Clock, Doubleday, 1995) weaves a tight narrative and effectively builds the suspense. An old-fashioned page-turner recommended for public-library fiction collections. -?Maria A. Perez-Stable, Western Michigan Univ. Libs., Kalamazoo Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From Booklist Nance's best-selling thriller, Pandora's Clock , which concerned an airline passenger afflicted with a deadly virus, recently aired as a television miniseries. Nance, an experienced air-force and commercial pilot as well as a broadcast journalist (including serving as aviation consultant for ABC News), brings his aviation expertise once more to bear on another terrifying fictional work that could have been taken from today's headlines. For his livelihood, pilot and small businessman Scott McKay leases a converted Boeing 727 and ferries cargo across the country, much like a truck driver. On one particular flight, however, he comes to realize that his cargo hold contains a thermonuclear bomb: a modern instrument of destruction dubbed the Medusa device and capable of an incredible act of terrorism--destroying every computer chip within a very wide radius. The effort to incapacitate the bomb before it can detonate is the warp and woof of an exciting plot that offers hours of pure diversion. Brad Hooper --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. Review So compelling it's tough to look away. --People magazine Master of aviation suspense John J. Nance produces another high-flying thriller....BRILLIANT...He moves the action effortlessly from place to place, building the tension and heightening the drama...NANCE DELIVERS PLENTY OF PUNCH. --The Orange County Register This book's more addictive than morphine, a proverbial page-turner. --Dallas Morning News --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From the Publisher A new novel of airborne suspense by the bestselling author of Pandora's Clock! Praise for John J. Nance's Books: Nance combines exquisite suspense and cardiac-arrest action to create the ultimate flying adventure. If you read this on an airliner, you're a lot braver than I am. --Stephen Coonts, author of Final Flight and The Minotaur Pandora's Clock will do for planes what the movie Speed did for buses. John Nance's riveting thriller is a fast, fun read that never lets up. --Phillip Margolin, author of Gone, But Not Forgotten and The Burning Man Fasten your seat belts! John Nance turns air disaster into a gripping investigative novel. His professional skills as both pilot and writer combine to make Final Approach a compelling and all-too-realistic story. --James Michener --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From the Inside Flap Everything in America is about to stop... 10,000 feet over Washington, D.C.! With the same breathtaking heroics that brought his bestselling Pandora's Clock international acclaim, John J. Nance once again spins today's headlines--this time about the threat of nuclear terrorism--into an all-too-realistic story of high-flying suspense. For thirty-year-old captain Scott McKay, the transport run from Miami to Denver will give him the money he desperately needs to keep his fledgling air cargo company flying. When a mysterious crate is discovered on his plane, however, McKay is ordered to abandon his present course and fly the crate and its owner, Vivian Henry, to Washington, D.C., before going to Denver. McKay takes the forced detour in stride--until a strange noise comes from deep inside the crate. It is the voice of Vivian's husband, Dr. Rogers Henry, warning that the shipment they are carrying is actually a fully armed Medusa device, a thermonuclear bomb that can destroy every computer chip over an entire continent, and blast the Silicon Age back to the Stone Age. And it is set to go off within hours. As panic spreads from the small community of nuclear scientists who used to work for Dr. Rogers Henry to the White House and eventually to the general public, a group of rogue military officers conspires to disobey the President's orders and secure the technology of the Medusa device, whatever the cost. Will Captain McKay and his crew trust their own instincts to dispose of the bomb, or will they let a misguided government dictate their actions? Using his inside knowledge of the airline industry, as well as his expertise as a pilot, John J. Nance has once again turned our worst fears into a terrifyingly realistic story. Medusa's Child will take readers into the center of a spine-tingling crisis. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. About the Author John J. Nance, aviation analyst for ABC News and a familiar face on Good Morning America, is the author of several bestselling novels including Fire Flight, Skyhook, Turbulence, and Orbit. Two of his novels, Pandora's Clock and Medusa's Child, have been made into highly successful television miniseries. A lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Air Force Reserve, Nance is a decorated pilot veteran of Vietnam and Operations Desert Storm/Desert Shield. He lives in Washington State. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. Excerpt. ? Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. IN FLIGHT--SCOTAIR 50--4:05 P.M. EDT The voice of the Washington Approach controller was terse. ScotAir Fifty, I've been handed a telephone number in Miami you're to call immediately. Do you have a phone aboard? Scott felt off balance. He'd never heard an air traffic controller order a pilot to make an airborne call. He wished Doc was back in the cockpit. Scott punched the transmit button. Ah, roger, ScotAir Fifty does have a telephone. Who's requesting the call? I don't know, ScotAir, the controller began, ...but you need to call this number immediately. I'm told it's an emergency. The controller relayed the number and Scott punched it into the Flitephone handset, his mind whirling through a variety of apocalyptic possibilities as a man answered on the other end, listened to the name ScotAir, and identified himself as an FBI agent. Scott felt himself shudder within. We've been trying to find you, ScotAir. You were in Miami this morning at the same time some undocumented hazardous material was shipped out. We think that material may be on board your aircraft. The memory of Linda McCoy's pushiness in getting her two pallets aboard suddenly flooded Scott's mind, almost blocking the agent's words. They hadn't really verified her identity, had they? They hadn't even inspected her pallets, once he'd agreed to take them. We need you to land immediately, the agent said. The visual memory of Mrs. Henry's single pallet also crossed his mind. He knew even less about her. Scott realized the agent was still talking, and he wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry, say again. There was a pause in Miami. I said, we'll have the appropriate people ready to meet you to examine what you've got on board. You haven't unloaded anything since you left Miami, have you? Suddenly, for some reason, he felt guilty. All they'd done wrong was load someone else's pallet, and that was an innocent mistake. Yet the fact that an FBI agent was asking him questions at all was vaguely terrifying. No, sir, Scott answered, It's all still aboard, but I need to know, are we in any danger, if what you're looking for is really here? Silence. Sir? Did you hear me? He could hear the phone being shifted from one hand to another in Miami, and at last the FBI agent's voice returned. Ah, Captain, I doubt you're in any immediate danger, but I can't say for certain. If the...items...we're looking for are on board your airplane, it depends on how well they're, ah, packaged. More links and connections raced through his head, none of them comforting. Miami...drug dealers...drug-making equipment...hazardous, carcinogenic chemicals...what if we're carrying illegal drugs... Scott heard his own voice as if it were disembodied. Okay. Where do you want us to land? We're waiting to get into National, but right now it's closed. There was a worrisome hesitation on the other end. Scott could hear voices before the agent spoke into the handset again. Okay, stay in your holding pattern. What phone are you on? Scott passed the number of the aircraft's Flitephone. Keep the line open, Captain, and I'll call you back as soon as we've decided where to bring you down. You do realize there's a hurricane moving in here? Scott asked. I...wait a minute. The agent began. Scott could hear someone talking in the background. Okay, Captain, what did you say? I said, there's a hurricane moving into the D.C. area. Whatever we do, we're going to need to do it fast. One of my clients wants her cargo to go to National, but if it doesn't re-open soon, the winds are going to go out of limits. You've got just one shipment on board, right? No sir, we've got two. One's going to Denver, Colorado, the other was loaded by mistake this morning. We're delivering it to National. More background discussion. Scott realized he'd flown beyond the end of the holding pattern. His right hand found the autopilot controller and began a right turn to reverse course. Even at ten thousand feet and two hundred forty knots of speed, the turbulence was getting worse, and the old 727 was bouncing around with an irritating consistency. The agent's voice filled his ear again. Scott thought he detected fatigue. Okay, Captain, we're going to need to inspect everything you've got aboard. Right now we're considering bringing you down at Andrews Air Force Base. Hang tight until I've got final word. I'll call you right back. The sound of the cockpit door being flung open was punctuated by the sound of the FBI agent disconnecting. Scott! Doc Hazzard laid a large left hand on the younger pilot's shoulder, turning him partly around with a startling roughness. Scott, we've got a problem. Linda McCoy stood in the doorway, he noticed, her face ashen. Mrs. Henry was nowhere to be seen. What? Doc flung himself in the copilot's seat and began strapping in. Doctor McCoy will take you back there. I'll watch the bird. I don't know what to make of it. What, Doc? What the hell are you talking about? Doc Hazzard grabbed the yoke with his right hand and turned toward Scott. That warning horn? It was coming from Mrs. Henry's shipment. There's a metal container in that pallet. It looks like stainless steel. I opened an inspection hatch and found a TV screen inside with a message you've got to see. Scott, this thing may contain a bomb! And it's got an inertial navigation system in it that may be malfunctioning. It thinks it knows where it is, but it doesn't know precisely. Doc, for God's sake, slow down! Tell me that again. There's a huge container back there with some sort of message and you think it's a bomb? . Doc shook his head as he scanned the instruments, trying to make sure he knew where they were. You'll understand when you look at it. What's this about an inertial navigation system? Doc turned to him. It thinks we're in the Pentagon. Rather, thinks it's in the Pentagon. Well, we flew over the Pentagon before we started holding, but what does that have to do with... the word bomb was beginning to sink in. There was true panic in the copilot's eyes, Scott noticed. For eight months nothing had seemed to rattle Doc Hazzard. He was always steady as a rock. But now he was shaken. Doc, does Mrs. Henry know what's inside that pallet? Doc shook his head vigorously. Not a clue. She says her husband was a government physicist. Whatever that is back there, he built it. I can't get anything else out of her, except that he's dead and left instructions for her to take it to the Pentagon. It's supposed to be a mockup of some sort. That's all she'll tell me, and she looks pretty scared. Linda McCoy's hand gripped his shoulder with surprising strength. Captain, please follow me back. I'm really worried about this. Her voice carried a tense urgency as well, and Scott scrambled out of the seat to follow her out the cockpit door. Vivian Henry had steadied herself against the turbulence by holding or to a small handrail above the windows, but she was aware of little more than the container before her. She'd recognized the look of alarm on the face of the young female scientist several minutes before, then had seen it consume the copilot as well. They seemed unable to tell her what they were seeing, so she'd stepped forward and looked for herself at the small screen inside her ex-husband's creation. All she could see on the screen was text, but. in her head she could hear the familiar snarl of her deceased husband's voice reaching out for her again with the horrid clarity of a can't-get-away nightmare. What does he mean, 'detonate'? Maybe it was a burglar alarm of sorts, she thought in a frantic search for a benign explanation. She looked at the screen again. He obviously meant those words to be threatening. Once the shipment was within the Pentagon complex, Rogers Henry had devised a plan to keep it there. Perhaps that's it! The threat is just a ploy to make sure they really study the mockup. Nothing would happen. Nothing would explode. Vivian knew Rogers had always been passionate about defending his country. He would never attack it. Doc Hazzard and Dr. McCoy had disappeared toward the cockpit, leaving her alone with her husband's handiwork. For the first time, a cold, haunting shroud of fear began to cover her mind with an unexpected sense of helplessness and resignation. The old feeling of being cornered by him in some other impossible position, her back against a wall--often with his hands around her throat--came back with chilling familiarity. So many times she had assumed she was about to die at his hands--so many times she was sure he would carry out his threats. Until she'd mustered up enough courage to leave him, she'd grown used to feeling helpless and being resigned to her fate. But there were other people involved this time, she reminded herself. Vivian Henry looked out the nearest window, trying to shake the feeling of impending doom. Rogers had stopped appearing in her nightmares some time ago, but the rancid, electric feeling of impending attack had returned. It was a feeling she knew all too well. For years she'd had nightmares about his stalking her, nightmares she relived night after night with the visceral presence of pure hate reflected in his eyes when they fastened on her. His pupils would become tiny little pinpoints, and she would be transfixed, unable to move, until she awoke in total confusion. She stared, me... --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title. From AudioFile The absolute master of airplane suspense novels, John J. Nance, is a professional pilot himself. His intimate knowledge of both aircraft and the industry lends authenticity to his works but never overshadows his skill in creating believable characters. This abridged recording provides listeners with an added thrill: It's read by John Nance himself. The story of a nuclear device placed aboard a cargo jet without any means of disarming it is nail-biting enough, but Nance's delivery makes this an audiobook you can't put down. And don't look for standard solutions to impossible problems; Nance never goes for the easy way out, continually giving listeners one breathtaking scenario after another. J.L.C. ? AudioFile 2003, Portland, Maine-- Copyright ? AudioFile, Portland, Maine --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.