by Ethan Cross
“You have no actionable intel to suggest that he even intends to attack, let alone what the target will be,” said Cortez, a short black man with wire-framed glasses and a bookish appearance.
“Think about it. A man who has made claims of this being a war started by our government is now in possession of a chemical weapon. And you think that it’s a coincidence that all this happens the same day that the US Senate is about to enact a new bill declaring several of the Mexican cartels, including the Castillo Cartel, as foreign terrorist organizations.”
The new legislation allowed the US government to take the fight against the cartels to a whole new level and gave law enforcement in the United States enhanced tools to combat those groups. Among other things, it permitted the government to freeze money tied to the cartels and enhanced the criminal penalties for those found to be aiding them. It also made it much easier for the US military to take full-scale action.
Director Hulett ran a hand through his gray hair and said, “So, on your hunch, you want us to shut down the US Capitol Building and evacuate the Senate?”
Munroe didn’t flinch. “That’s right. There’s also a major event taking place on the National Mall today. I heard something about it on the radio. I’d like you to cancel that as well, just in case.”
“I thought you said he wouldn’t attack a civilian target?”
“I don’t believe he will.”
Director Cortez shook his head and sighed. “It can’t be done, Munroe.”
Leaning against the bathroom doorframe, Black spoke up. “I know firsthand how dangerous this weapon can be, and if you don’t do something to stop it, C-Span is going to be broadcasting a bloodbath.”
Linda D’Addario looked more like a second grade teacher than the head of a government agency with a budget of nearly fifty billion dollars. She pursed her lips and said, “We understand your concerns, and we don’t doubt the serious threat that this weapon poses. However, the US is a constant target. We receive threats all the time with more substantiated evidence than this. We can’t just shut down the government because the facts suggest that an attack might be coming. If we did, our government would cease to function.”
“You can’t just ignore this threat,” Munroe said.
Cortez responded first. “We’re not ignoring anything. Security around the Capitol is on high alert. All of our agencies are out in full force. Plain clothes agents have been positioned around the Capitol and the surrounding blocks. We’ve distributed Almeida’s picture. If this man comes within a thousand yards of the Capitol, we’ll nail him.”
“It won’t be enough.”
Linda D’Addario said, “Listen, Agent Munroe, we’re doing all that we can. We all know about the situation with your daughters and our hearts go out to you. We know how bad you want to catch this guy. But we can’t rush major decisions such as this based on emotions and gut feelings. We—”
Munroe gave a terse nod and stood. “Very well, I appreciate your time. But I would like my suggestions and concerns on this matter noted officially. Mr. Black, it’s time for us to go.”
~~*~~
Katherine had cleaned up as best she could in a public bathroom and then waited in the lobby as Munroe and Black tried to convince the bureaucrats to take action. She didn’t expect that they’d succeed. The directors of the agencies usually didn’t work their way up from the bottom like any other organization. These men and women were political appointees, and shutting down Congress wasn’t good politics.
Black appeared around the corner with Munroe in tow, and she stood to greet them. “Well? Any luck?”
Munroe said, “They’ve beefed up security around the Capitol, but I don’t think it will be enough.”
“I told you. Those people are political animals. If they evacuate and they’re wrong, it would derail their careers.”
Munroe stiffened. “Derail,” he said softly. He grabbed the phone from his pocket, held a button, and issued the voice command, “Call Joey.”
Munroe had contacted the computer genius earlier from the chopper and ordered him to the facility near Fort Meade. He wanted Joey to get into the laboratory’s server and find out whatever he could, while the FBI went through any physical files or manifests. Unfortunately, Almeida had used an electro-magnetic device to fry the server once he had retrieved the digital files for himself.
Katherine listened intently to Munroe’s one-sided conversation. “Joey, I need you to do something for me. Can you hack in and retrieve the schedules for all of the Senators and their chiefs of staff for this morning?…No, it’s not treason. Use somebody from my father’s office, if you need to…Okay, once you’re in, I want you to find out if any of them have meetings with a constituent. Anyone from a business, interest group, campaign donor. Then check out who those people really are. We’re looking for someone who’s not who they claim to be. Hurry, we don’t have much time.”
When Munroe hung up, he said, “I need the two of you to get to the Senate office buildings. I’ll stay here and coordinate. I’d just slow you down.”
“Why? What are you thinking?” Black asked.
“My father’s office is in the Hart Building. Katherine reminded me of that place when she said, ‘derail.’ There’s a special train just for the Senators and their staff that transports them underground from their offices to the Capitol Building. Most of the Senators will be taking that train today. Imagine if someone placed those motion sensor dispersal units in the train cars or in the hallway leading up from the train.”
Katherine followed his logic. “Of course, security will be thinking that they’ll try to do something while the Senate’s in session, in order to expose all of them to the weapon at once. But you wouldn’t have to do it that way. Black said that it took several minutes before the madness had fully set in. That may even depend on dosage, and maybe they can adjust that on the dispersal devices.”
“Which means that each Senator could be exposed while riding the train and not even know it. A bunch of ticking time bombs.”
CHAPTER NINETY-NINE
Black and Katherine sprinted up to the Hart Senate Office Building, the newest of the Senate buildings designed with a contemporary look and a white marble facade that matched the older structures surrounding it. Immediately inside the door sat a metal detector and security checkpoint manned by three guards. Knowing that the replacement PT845 that Tobi Savoy had provided would set off the detector, Black displayed his DCIS credentials while Katherine flashed her NCIS creds. To the guards, he said, “We’re here on a matter of national security.”
The first guard, a man with a linebacker’s build, looked him up and down, examining the filthy clothes and bruised and bloody face. Black shrugged. “Casual Friday.” Then he held up a picture of Almeida. “Has this guy been through here?”
“No, I haven’t seen him. But wait here a minute, I think I should call this in.”
Katherine stepped up into the man’s face. “We have reason to believe that there is an imminent chemical weapon attack happening right under your nose. You call whoever you want, but you need to let us in there right now.”
The linebacker blinked rapidly and then stepped aside.
They sprinted around the corner toward a bank of elevator’s to the right of the entrance. The open-air marble interior of the building shined brightly with natural light from massive skylights high above them. A giant sculpture of black metal filled the lobby area and climbed all the way to the the top floor.
“What room did he say?” Katherine asked.
“703.” Munroe had called while they were en route with the discovery that a Texas Senator’s Chief of Staff had scheduled a private tour of the Capitol building with a wealthy campaign donor.
They stepped onto the elevator with a group of high school students wearing oversized suits and bright red ties. The kids eyed Black cautiously. He tapped t
he button for the seventh floor and bounced impatiently as the elevator started its slow ascent. He ignored the high school kids, who were still staring at his filthy beaten-down form.
The doors hadn’t even opened all the way onto the seventh floor when Black and Katherine bounded out and sprinted around the open-air walkway to Room 703. A Texas flag rested beside the door to a glass-fronted reception area. Pictures of Texas scenery and wildlife adorned the walls. A twenty-something girl with short brown hair and glasses sat behind a walnut reception desk. “Can I help you?” she said in a perky high-pitched voice.
Black didn’t bother with pleasantries. He just flashed his ID. “The Senator’s Chief of Staff. Where is he?”
The woman’s face turned ashen. “He just left for the Capitol Building.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED
Munroe sat on a stone bench in the corner of the J. Edgar Hoover Building’s lobby. Leg bouncing nervously. Arms crossed. Phone clutched in his right hand. Waiting. He tried to consider all the angles. He thought of Almeida and the weapon. The attacks. The kids, slowly suffocating. But there wasn’t anything he could do until he received word from his team. He was at the mercy of others, and it was killing him.
Finally, his phone rang. The distinctive ringtone told him that it was Joey. “Were you able to access the server?”
Joey said, “I’m still working on it, but they nuked the drives. We may not get anything. That’s not why I called.”
“What did you find?”
“They fried the server for the database and research files, but the security system runs off a totally different box. That server’s fine, and so I was able to access the camera records and see how Almeida and his men escaped and what they stole.”
“And?”
“They made off with the data files, a bunch of those small dispersal units, and a big black case. I had no idea what was in there, but I saw that they took it out of one of the back rooms, and so I checked it out. Luckily, there were more of them back there. The case contained a hand-launchable SUAV. Kind of like a RQ-11 Raven, but with a lot of design changes. It has tanks and a spraying apparatus more like the Yamaha RMAX.”
Munroe said, “You lost me.”
“Unmanned Aerial Vehicle. It’s a small drone plane. But think of this one as one part really expensive high-tech remote-control plane and one part crop duster.”
The implications became clear. The researchers had created a device to distribute the weaponized compound over a base or population center or even a crowd of people. “Joey, I’ve been out of the loop lately with all that’s been happening. Remind me what event is taking place on the National Mall today?”
“It’s the dedication ceremony for the new education center of the Vietnam War Memorial. But the big draw is that they expanded the center to include photos and stories and tributes of service members killed in Iraq and Afghanistan and even other wars. So the dedication is kind of a big veteran event that’s drawn soldiers and their families from all over the country. They have all kinds of activities and things for the kids and—”
“Did you hear anything on the number of people they expect to attend?”
“I think the news said that it’s supposed to be close to double the turnout of those antiwar protests back in 2002 and 2003. I could look those numbers up for you, if you want.”
Munroe took a deep breath and said, “No need, I remember those days. The protesters numbered in the hundreds of thousands.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE
Oliver Pike, dressed in an expensive suit and fake beard, accepted the visitor badge from the Senator’s Chief of Staff with a smile. The rows of fluorescent lighting above their heads hummed and reflected brightly off the polished concrete floors and bare white walls. He glanced over his shoulder at the train tracks and the silver and glass loading area. Small wooden signs on poles dotted the space; each labeled with phrases like No Running and Do Not Hold Doors. Beyond the loading doors, the tracks extended down a well-lit tunnel that curved off in the direction of the Capitol.
A pair of wooden security desks manned by three guards sat opposite the loading area. To Pike, the guard said, “Sir, please remove everything from your pockets and place the contents on the desk.”
Pike rummaged through the pockets of his suit jacket and pants and placed the items atop the desk—wallet, cell phone, three packs of cigarettes, lighter, and Tic Tacs. The guard ran a scanning wand over the items that was designed to detect the presence of explosives or known toxins, as well as the DNA of selected bacteria and viruses.
The tests came back negative, as he had expected, but the thing that amazed him was that the guards didn’t actually search him to be sure that he had placed all of the items on his person atop the desk. He could have had a bag full of anthrax in his coat and still walked right through.
With the test complete, he placed the innocuous dispersal devices back into his pockets. His mission would be simple. No one would notice or worry about a pack of cigarettes or cell phone sitting on a table or concealed on the train. The devices were a work of genius. They even had timers for the activation of the motion sensors and controls for the dosage levels. He could set the device and be well away before it activated and configure the level of exposure to ensure the maximum number of Senators and staff would be affected.
As they stood in front of the sliding glass doors of the loading area, Pike heard the whir of the onrushing train. The Chief of Staff droned on about the train and the building and thanked him for his company’s generous contributions. Pike smiled and nodded at the appropriate times, but his focus was on the mission. Initially, this had been a two man operation, but at the last minute, Almeida had decided to send Pike alone with an extra bonus added to his compensation, which suited him just fine.
He could see the small train approaching. An hour from now, he would be safely away, and the US Senate would literally be torn apart.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO
As Black sprinted down the concrete ramp leading to the Senator’s train, he saw two men standing near the loading area. The small blue and white train glided down the bright tunnel ahead. In another few seconds, it would be docked and accepting passengers. Pulling his gun, he shouted to the guards, “Stop those men!”
The guards turned in his direction but didn’t seem to understand.
He pumped his legs harder, leaving Katherine behind and cutting a line straight for the train. The glass doors slid open.
One of the two men grabbed the other and shoved him into Black’s path, but Black didn’t slow. The second man collided with him, but he pushed through the impact, swiping the man out of the way with a raised forearm. Despite the disguise, Black recognized the first man as the mercenary who had been working for Almeida.
Black took aim, but the man dashed onto the train before Black could get off a shot.
The doors began to shut, but without slowing his momentum, Black turned sideways and slipped through the closing portal.
The inside of the train car was small and intimate. Two padded bench seats faced each other, one in the front and one in back of the car. Each comfortably sat two to three passengers. Less than six feet of standing room separated the two seats.
As Black slipped inside, he lowered his shoulder to tackle the other man, but the terrorist sidestepped and used Black’s momentum against him. The man shoved him into the glass on the car’s far side. His head struck the window, and pain shot down the length of his body.
The train pulled away from the station and rocketed through the underground tube toward the US Capitol Building.
Ignoring the pain, he whirled around and raised his gun, but his opponent was ready. He fired twice, but the other man caught his wrist and redirected the shots through the glass door of the train. The smaller man twisted back his wrist, and Black involuntarily dropped his pistol.
The mercenar
y moved with the speed and agility of an expert in hand to hand combat. They exchanged blows in quick blurs of motion, but Black couldn’t deflect the man’s rapid thrusts and open palmed strikes. He was too fast.
Changing tactics, Black used his superior weight against the smaller man. He thrusted his whole body forward, slamming the other man back against the train’s glass doors which had already started to show spiderweb cracks out from each bullet hole.
The mercenary recovered quickly and kicked the inside of Black’s left leg, dropping the big man to one knee. The other man rushed forward, but Black wrapped his attacker in a bear hug and squeezed with all his substantial strength.
The man screamed as his pale features turned red.
Black felt ribs separating and cracking.
But then the mercenary landed a head butt. The blow succeeded in loosening Black’s grip enough for the man to pull one arm free. He grabbed the side of Black’s head and started to jam his thumb into Black’s eye socket.
Reacting on instinct, Black lifted the mercenary’s smaller frame from the floor and threw the man away from him as hard as he could. The man struck the car’s door again, but this time the glass gave way.
Tiny shards flying out all around him, the man careened backward out of the opening and slammed into one of the tunnel’s pillars with a wet thud.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE
Deacon Munroe couldn’t believe this was happening. His daughters were running out of time, and they were possibly on the verge of the worst terrorist attack in the history of the world, one that could destroy the US government and Washington, DC as they knew it. He felt helpless to stop the attack and powerless to save those he loved.
As his mind raced for answers, he asked Joey, “This drone could be launched from anywhere, right? But could we track it? Shoot it down somehow?”
