Patriot's Farewell: A Political Thriller Fiction Series (Boston Brahmin Political Thrillers Book 7)

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Patriot's Farewell: A Political Thriller Fiction Series (Boston Brahmin Political Thrillers Book 7) Page 26

by Bobby Akart


  Brad continued. “The areas marked in red represent the first island chain—the major archipelagos bordering the Chinese mainland from the Malay Peninsula to Japan. We have submarines spread throughout the areas marked in red.”

  “Do the Chinese know this?”

  “I’m sure they suspect them, but would never be able to pinpoint our exact locations,” replied Brad. “There are a lot of folks at the Pentagon that think a crisis like this may be best fought with the Virginia-class sub rather than the flattops we deployed, but our goal was different. We wanted to send a message, and I’m still one hundred percent behind the decision.”

  “How do the subs help us now?” asked Sarge.

  “We up the ante.”

  “You mean escalate?”

  “Meet power with power,” replied Brad.

  “Has the State Department reached out to Beijing since their increased activity and positioning of the amphibs?” asked Sarge.

  “They have with no response,” replied Donald.

  “What are they saying in Taiwan’s military?” Sarge directed this question to Brad.

  “Taiwan’s all-out defense strategy calls for mobilizing the entire country, gearing up every able-bodied man and woman in support of anti-invasion operations.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” quipped Donald.

  “No. Listen, despite what you’ve seen on the TV screen the last few days, the vast majority of Taiwanese relish their independence from China. They’ll fight with sticks and stones to defend their nation.”

  Sarge wondered if the American people would do the same in the face of a more powerful invader.

  “Okay,” said Sarge. “Donald, whoever is in the office at State, tell them to meet me in the Oval at nine. Also, advise everyone we’ll have an abbreviated PDB at the same time. I need the communications team there as well.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” said Donald.

  “Brad, if we deploy two of our subs to the Taiwan Straits, can we make their appearance known to the Chinese?”

  “Oh, absolutely, Mr. President. It’ll be the most choreographed event in naval history. I’ll have them break the surface in unison to stare the ChiComms down.”

  “Give the order.”

  Chapter 67

  8:45 a.m.

  The Oval Office

  The White House

  Washington, DC

  Sarge, Abbie, Donald, and Brad met in the Oval Office prior to the scheduled PDB at nine. The decisions Sarge made in the next few hours could result in a major conflict with the Chinese and could also explode into an international crisis.

  Brad provided an update. “Mr. President, two Virginia-class submarines will be in position by noon, awaiting our orders. I’ve placed the carrier strike groups on high alert to provide air support. We’ve also elevated our armed forces to DEFCON 3 until further notice.”

  DEFCON 3 was an increase in overall force readiness above that required for normal defense readiness. The Air Force would be prepared to mobilize within fifteen minutes. Air support was critical to the defense of the two carrier strike groups and to the defense of Taiwan.

  “I have to ask an obvious question, and I apologize if this was discussed in the Situation Room earlier,” started Abbie. “Could Beijing be responding to our diversion of these two carrier groups to Taiwan?”

  Sarge replied, “The timing would certainly suggest it.”

  “That’s true,” added Brad. “Except the military assets being prepared by the PLA are not defensive in nature. Their maneuvers have a definite offensive intention.”

  Abbie continued. “How does the increased activity by this invading force, assuming that’s what it is, affect the mission to find and recover Ambassador McBride?”

  “That’s part of the reason I wanted us to convene prior to the daily briefing. If I force their hand and reveal our two attack subs right off their shore, this thing could blow. However, it may be the only way to defend Taiwan and prevent an international crisis.”

  “If a hot war breaks out,” added Brad, “we would have to abandon Operation Golden Retriever and get the team out of there.”

  “How long do we have to make a decision?” asked Abbie.

  “We’ve given Drew the green light to advance on the hostage positions without confirmation of McBride being held there,” replied Brad. He took a deep breath and continued. “Waiting for confirmation would’ve made it more dangerous for our team. We also had to green light them to use deadly force if warranted in any location where the ambassador was not found.”

  “There will be political fallout for that,” said Donald.

  Sarge looked onto the South Lawn. It was so peaceful on this quiet day in Washington, relatively speaking.

  “I gave them the green light,” said Sarge. “I’m not going to risk the lives of our guys because the Chinese got the jump on us. If lives are lost on their side, we’ll disavow all knowledge anyway. In the scheme of things, time is of the essence. Brad, I want constant reports.”

  “We’ll be operating the mission from the Situation Room,” said Brad. “I’ll keep you posted by text and pull you downstairs if need be. We’ll be monitoring all activity with the unit’s communications and video gear. Further, we now have a drone overhead providing real-time visuals on the ground.”

  Sarge walked up to Abbie. He’d just ordered her husband into battle. “Are you still okay with this?”

  “Totally. Let’s get back McBride and tell the Chinese to shove it!”

  Chapter 68

  9:00 a.m.

  The Oval Office

  The White House

  Washington, DC

  Brad left for the Situation Room, and the White House communications team entered to start the Presidential Daily Briefing. They were joined by an Under Secretary of State and Mr. Chen from the CIA. Sarge was making small talk with the attendees when he was pulled aside by Donald. Sarge excused himself and walked to the side of the desk with his friend.

  “Walter Cabot claims he’s been trying to reach you,” started Donald. “You don’t have your phone, do you?”

  Sarge, who was still in his running clothes, planned on getting dressed for Thanksgiving dinner after the briefing. “Nah, crap. It’s still in the residence. What does he want?”

  “He wants to meet.”

  “I’m going to see him at dinner in a couple of hours. Can’t it wait? Or is it about yesterday’s vote?”

  Donald looked at his phone, searching for answers. “He really didn’t say and it didn’t sound urgent. I suppose he can wait until dinner.”

  “Let’s make him wait,” said Sarge. “I need to get my head straight before I do battle with the Brahmin. Plus, I’ve still gotta bake cookies.”

  “What?” asked Donald.

  “You know, my contribution to our potluck-style Thanksgiving. Every year, I provide the cookies.”

  Donald started laughing, drawing the attention of the rest of the people in the room. “All of these years, I thought Julia did it, or one of the bakers downstairs.”

  “Nope. It’s all me. As a matter of fact, let’s address that right now.”

  Sarge made his way toward the couches while Donald informed Walter Cabot that the president was handling a crisis at the moment but would see him in a couple of hours.

  “Before we get started, I want the comms team to hear this story. As you all know, every president has his own theme at Thanksgiving. After what this country went through following the collapse, I didn’t think it was appropriate to conduct elaborate, expensive dinners when we should be giving thanks for what we’ve been blessed with. So I elected to have a potluck theme. Each Thanksgiving, I’ve asked everyone to bring their own specialty dish, hopefully one which is in keeping with our roots dating back to the Revolution.”

  “You always bring a dessert, don’t you, sir?” asked Crepeau.

  “That’s correct, and I try to choose a recipe from Colonial days. This year, I’ve chosen gingersnaps.”r />
  “Do you mean like gingerbread cookies?” asked Ocampo.

  “Sort of,” replied Sarge. “For thousands of years, spices derived from the ginger root were used in cooking and bread-making. The Greeks used it as far back as 2400 BC. The Germans made it well known with their creations of intricate gingerbread houses.

  “Gingerbread arrived in the New World with the English colonists. The spice was hard to come by, so the cookies became a delicacy. There are stories of gingerbread man cookies being used in Virginia to sway voters to favor one candidate over another.”

  “I wish it had been that easy for us,” Donald said with a chuckle.

  “Me too. Anyway, because of their rarity, they were only enjoyed by the wealthier colonists, much to the dismay of the regular folks. But all was not lost. The bakers who made these wonderful gingerbread men would cut the strips to mold the shapes and have small bits of dough leftover. They would bake these leftover pieces and create small gingerbread snaps, as they were called.”

  “Why were they called gingersnaps?” asked Crepeau.

  “They were baked very thin and crispy, which caused a snapping sound when eaten. Gingersnaps were passed out of the back doors of many homes to children and adults, who’d often dip them into rum or whiskey for extra flavor. It became known as the cookie of the common man during colonial times.”

  “Wow, that’s really cool,” remarked Ocampo. “Are you making gingerbread men today?”

  “Nope, I think for this final Thanksgiving, I’ll make the cookie of the common man—gingersnaps. Now, let’s talk about what’s going on in the world.”

  Chapter 69

  9:00 a.m. ET

  Xindian District

  New Taipei City

  “Control, are you absolutely sure?” Drew had asked two hours ago as he walked around the swimming pool, looking into the clear sky where the MQ-4C Triton drone was filming from nearly five miles above him.

  The identities of the three men were confirmed by the CIA Taipei station chief as being assigned to protect the ambassador. Absent from the trio and presumably still alive was Lee Matsu, the Taiwanese national who was also the chief of security at the AIT complex.

  This sent the intelligence apparatus into a mad scramble. They immediately expected the AIT complex to come under attack because Matsu had detailed knowledge of its security measures and the presence of the CIA team in the bunker.

  Over the last two hours, one by one, Drew’s team reported they’d found no trace of the ambassador. Out of precaution, the Delta Force operators were redirected to the AIT while the drivers supplied by the CIA were returned to their compound in Keelung City.

  Santa and Spidey were dropped off at the compound with Drew. The other four members of his Elite Eight immediately took up perimeter security around them. Drew continued his pacing around the compound, studying every aspect of his surroundings hopefully for a sign of some kind.

  As he walked past the garage doors for the third time, he widened his arc to hug the protective concrete walls enclosing the compound. This time, he noticed a gate exiting the north side of the property, on the opposite side of where he and King had entered. The gate had a typical wrought-iron latch mechanism to close it together with a hole to slip a padlock through.

  He tried the gate and it easily swung open into the street. He took a step onto the narrow sidewalk and immediately raised his hands when a red laser light illuminated his chest, barely dancing as a steady hand guided its path.

  “Alpha One, Charlie One. Over.”

  “Yeah, that’s me, Charlie One.”

  The light immediately left his chest and Drew studied his surroundings. He looked to the sky and saw that the trees covered him from the drone’s view.

  He ducked back into the compound and turned on his flashlight. He began searching through the tall grass that surrounded the gate. He shuffled his feet, looking for the missing lock to confirm his suspicions. He kicked through the grass until his toe met something solid.

  Between his legs lay a standard combination lock with a long shackle. It was left open. Drew walked back into the street.

  “Control, Alpha One.”

  “Go ahead, Alpha One.”

  “Did you run a property records check on this compound? Over.”

  “Affirmative. The owner is a Taiwanese businessman reportedly out of the country. We’ve confirmed that he is not the dead man in the suit.”

  “Roger that. Run a check on his other property holdings in the area, especially this neighborhood. The analysts may need to check his company’s holdings as well as family members.”

  “Will do, Alpha One.”

  “Control, one more thing,” started Drew.

  “Go ahead, Alpha One.”

  “Did we maintain aerial surveillance on this compound following the departure of the six vehicles? If so, for how long and what size perimeter?”

  “That would be continuous, Alpha One. We maintained a quarter-mile visual.”

  “Send that to me. Over.”

  “Roger, Alpha One. Control out.”

  Drew ran back to the house, where King, Spidey, and Santa continued to search every inch of the house, looking for clues. “Santa, I need your eyes.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” the younger man replied as he deftly hopped over a leather couch and joined Drew at the laptop.

  “Control has just sent us footage for the hours after the abduction. I need you to go through this in 2X or 3X speed and focus on this area of the compound.”

  Drew pointed to the monitor where the trees obscured the satellite imagery of the gate and the street outside it. He continued. “Watch for any pedestrian activity that seems out of sorts, especially if one or more people emerge from the trees that didn’t enter from the other side.”

  “Do you think they left on foot?”

  “Possibly, or they may have entered another vehicle that was hidden under the canopy. These people are very calculating. The six vehicles left here in an obviously choreographed move. It was designed to have us chasing our tails in search of an empty van and zero leads.”

  “That part of the master plan was effective,” said Santa.

  “Further, they had to know we’d find the bodies after our search of the compound. Everything was fed to us on a silver platter except crater face. My guess is that he’ll turn out to be an unrelated diversion. Control is stymied in their attempts to identify the man. His prints turn up nothing and facial recognition software is still searching. They’ve got a forensics team trying to do a computer reconstruction of the guy.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you know if I find anything. What are you gonna do?”

  “Spidey and I are going to take a romantic stroll through the neighborhood,” said Drew with a laugh.

  “C’mon, man, not me again,” complained Spidey, who was always being teased about his handsome, model-like qualities. “Take King this time, would ya?”

  “He’s not my type,” said Drew with a chuckle. “Besides, I might need you to perform some of your circus acts. Now, drop your kit. Sidearms and sticks only.” Drew was referring to the USMC-issued KA-BAR knives the guys preferred to have strapped to their legs and the .45 caliber 1911s strapped to their waists.

  “Fine, but we’re not holding hands,” squalled Spidey.

  Chapter 70

  10:00 a.m. ET

  Xindian District

  New Taipei City

  Drew and Spidey exited the compound. They turned eastward away from the major freeway and deeper into Xindian District. When they emerged from the stand of trees, he contacted Control.

  “Control, Alpha One. Over.”

  “Go ahead, Alpha One.”

  “Exiting compound on north side street. Do you have us? Over.”

  “Roger that, Alpha One. We’ll widen our perimeter visuals as necessary. Over.”

  A strong gust of wind struck them in the face as they crossed the street and continued on their eastward path. Drew had no particular d
estination in mind. He just had a sense that the ambassador was right under his nose.

  Once again, he pulled his shemagh over his face as a wall of dust and trash blew past them, bits of dirt peppering the upper half of his face as they moved forward.

  “What are we looking for, Drew?” asked Spidey.

  “Brother, truthfully, I’m not sure. Somebody left that compound in a hurry. They didn’t bother to secure the lock from the outside, which left the compound open to any passersby. The fact it was under the tree canopy makes me think we missed something when we studied the video footage earlier.”

  “It’s possible,” said Spidey. “Santa was focused on following the vehicles. I don’t think it crossed his mind to study the foot traffic around the residence.”

  “Alpha One, Control. Over.”

  “Go ahead, Control.”

  “We’ve got the property records search back. The owner of the home has another property about three clicks to your north. Sending aerial and ground-level images to you now. Over.”

  Drew waited for the images to load on his phone. It was another residential compound, although much smaller than the one the ambassador was originally taken to. The ground-level view revealed a wrought-iron gate leading into the property. Once again, trees obscured the driveway entrance toward the garage from any prying eyes above.

  “Roger, Control. We’re en route. Over.”

  “Alpha One, we’ve designated a team to study activity in both properties following the abduction. Will advise.”

  “Roger that. Over and out.”

  Drew summoned Tai to pick them up. He updated Santa on what to look for in his surveillance tapes. He also forwarded the images to him.

  Tai emerged from around the corner and Drew jumped into the passenger’s seat. They got closer to the smaller compound and immediately noticed the difference from the other location. This looked more like a prison camp than a residence.

 

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