A Necessary Kill

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A Necessary Kill Page 22

by James P. Sumner


  Oscar shrugs. “That’s easy. He’s a lunatic who wants to rule the world. He’s like a goddamn cartoon villain, Adrian. I’m not saying he doesn’t want what’s best for everyone, because I think on some level he does. I’m saying his vision of how to get there differs drastically from that of any normal person.”

  I agree with what Oscar’s saying, and he makes a valid point. What will happen if we succeed? Half the government is involved, and if the whole conspiracy is made public, it will crush not just this country, but the entire world, setting us all back decades. There will be no faith in the White House, the stock markets will crash, the world will hate us forever… and we’ll end up being no better off than anyone else, we just won’t have the residual radiation poisoning.

  That said, it’s no excuse to let him get away with it. The way I see it, everything’s going to shit no matter what happens next, so I might as well do the thing that feels right.

  We pass through the booth and take the first exit off the bridge.

  Shit!

  I slam the brakes on as a car appears from nowhere and jumps in front of me. I sound the horn and bang my palm against the wheel.

  “Asshole!”

  I look ahead of us. We’ve just joined the end of a very long queue of traffic.

  I sigh. “Great…”

  I hope things go smoothly for the others.

  26

  MEANWHILE…

  17:31 EDT

  Ruby insisted on driving, which left Jonas in the passenger seat feeling tired and frustrated. They coasted along I-95 for just under two hours, maintaining an anonymous speed and hitting minimal delays. That eventually became I-495, which in turn led them onto New Hampshire Avenue. From there, it had been a straight run into the capital, and they were closing in on their destination.

  The State Department stood just a few blocks west of the White House. As they navigated the crowded streets alongside George Washington University, the gravity of the situation they now faced finally hit home. Traffic was close to a standstill. Sidewalks were crammed with people moving with a courteous urgency in every direction. Soldiers in full fatigues and armed with rifles lined the curbs. They were spread strategically thin, but still provided an effective barrier between pedestrians and the street.

  “Jesus…” muttered Jonas as he gazed out at the military presence. “Shit just got serious, huh?”

  Ruby slowed to a stop at a red light. “I think shit’s been serious for a while—this is just the first time we’ve seen it up close.”

  She got the green and set off, guiding the borrowed vehicle onto 23rd Street NW. After a few hundred yards, she pulled up opposite the main entrance to the building. It was a large block structure with beige brick and stern angles. The main doors were glass, and they could see the security checkpoints within.

  Jonas glanced over his shoulder at the briefcase resting on the back seat. “Have you any idea how we’re going to get inside there?”

  Ruby was silent for a few moments, distracted by her own thoughts on the task ahead of them. She found herself wondering what Adrian would do in this situation. She smiled when she realized even he wouldn’t have a clue. He wasn’t one for talking, and she knew that quick thinking and finesse would be required for this to work.

  “It’s going to be like playing a part,” she replied, finally. “We just need to get into character. Let me do the talking. You carry the briefcase.”

  “So you actually do have a plan?”

  She shrugged. “Working on it. Come on.”

  Jonas rolled his eyes. “You’ve spent far too long with him…”

  They climbed out of the car in sync, and Jonas leaned back inside to retrieve the case. They waited for a gap in the traffic and crossed the street, walked across the short plaza, and pushed their way through the glass doors into the building’s lobby.

  Inside was teeming with activity and security was everywhere. Their shoes clicked and clacked on the polished gray tiling that covered the floor as they approached the first of two visible security checkpoints. It was a semicircular desk with two men behind it wearing matching uniforms. One was sitting down, just about visible over the counter. He was concentrating on something—his unwavering gaze was focused in front of him. Ruby figured he was scanning the security feeds. The other was standing tall, professionally eyeballing everyone who moved.

  Ruby nodded a terse greeting to him as she neared the desk. “Good evening. I’m here to meet with Secretary Phillips.”

  The guard raised a curious eyebrow, and the mere mention of the name seemed to pique the interest of everyone within earshot.

  “Name?” he asked.

  “Ruby Andrews.” She gestured at Jonas, who was standing a couple of steps behind her. “This is my colleague, Jonas Dyke. We’re CIA intelligence officers from Langley. We’ve been sent to brief the secretary on the latest reports following North Korea’s attacks.”

  The guard studied them for a moment with a firm, emotionless gaze, and then looked down at his system. Ruby assumed he was checking a visitor’s schedule or something.

  “You’re not on the list,” he said after a few moments. “I’ll need you to wait while we obtain the correct clearance from your super—”

  Ruby held up her hand impatiently. “General Matthews himself sent us to brief Secretary Phillips. He told us he would arrange for the necessary clearance in advance so we wouldn’t have to wait.”

  “There’s no record of your clearance, and until we have it I can’t sign you through. Now if you’ll just wait—”

  “What’s your name?” she asked, cutting him off a second time.

  He frowned. “Young.”

  “Okay, Mr. Young… Have you seen a television in the last twelve hours or so?”

  He didn’t respond or react, he just stared at her, growing more uncomfortable with each second that passed.

  “I’m assuming you have,” she continued. “The director of the CIA sent us here to brief the secretary of state on the current situation with North Korea. This is of the highest importance, not to mention a matter of national security. I don’t have time to wait around while you take your thumb out of your ass long enough to do your job. If you want to check with Langley, be my guest, but can you please do it after you’ve allowed me to do my job and brief your boss. She’s waiting for this intel, and time isn’t something anyone has much of right now. So, Mr. Young, do you want to be the one who pisses off the CIA and the White House on a day like today?”

  He shifted uncomfortably, exchanging sideways glances with his nearby colleagues. They try to remain neutral, almost disowning him now they believe he’s in trouble, like they don’t want to be blamed as well.

  After a few tense, silent moments, he reached down and picked up two temporary security passes attached to lanyards, which he handed to Ruby and Jonas.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said. “I’m just following procedure.”

  Ruby took the pass and placed it over her head. “I understand, and I’m sorry for snapping. It’s just days like today don’t happen all that often, and when they do, things tend to become a little more urgent, y’know?”

  He nodded his agreement and gestured them past the desk to the security scanner, which was manned by three of his colleagues.

  Ruby strode confidently ahead with Jonas following, clutching the briefcase. Neither of them had any items on their person, and the case itself simply showed the papers contained within when it was x-rayed.

  Beyond them was a wide corridor that led to an elevator lobby with more corridors branching off to either side.

  After both passed unhindered through the metal detector, they walked unprompted toward the nearest bank of elevators and stepped inside the first one that dinged open. Ruby pressed the button for the top floor, assuming that’s where the important people would be.

  The doors slid shut and they began their ascent.

  Jonas breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Jesus Christ, that wa
s intense.”

  Ruby took some deep breaths, silently proud of herself for pulling it off. “At least it worked. Now we just have to find this Elaine Phillips woman before they decide to follow up on our authorization and discover we don’t have any.”

  “Yeah… So what happens if they do that before we get out of here?”

  She shrugged. “Then we probably won’t get out of here. But if we can get that case to Phillips, at least Adrian will stand a chance, having the secretary of state on his side.”

  Jonas rubbed a sweaty palm over his head, forcing himself to calm his nerves. “Oh boy…”

  17:43 EDT

  The doors opened on the top floor revealing another small lobby with corridors stretching off to the sides and directly in front of them. The floor was covered with a worn pale-red carpet, and the walls and ceiling were painted the same generic off-white.

  “Which way?” asked Ruby.

  Jonas shrugged. “Beats me. Straight on?”

  She looked along both corridors for any indication of layout but saw nothing.

  “Okay—straight on it is.”

  The floor was quiet, compared to the lobby at least. Only a handful of rooms lined the hallway, and only one of them was occupied—a small group of men in suits were talking animatedly while staring at an image of a spreadsheet projected onto a whiteboard.

  All the real work must be done on the lower floors, thought Ruby.

  They reached the opposite end of the corridor, which again branched off to either side.

  Jonas stared along the left side. “Looks dead that way,” he observed. “A short hall with only two rooms. No signs of life.”

  Ruby was looking right. “Yeah, I think it might be this way.”

  Jonas moved alongside her and followed her gaze to a large office at the end of another short corridor. It stretched across almost the full width of the hallway, and the vertical blinds at the window were opened enough for them to see inside. They glimpsed a woman sitting behind a desk, writing feverishly.

  Elaine Phillips.

  “Come on,” said Ruby, walking purposefully toward the office.

  Jonas followed hastily, their muffled footfalls the only sound to be heard.

  Eagerly, she reached the door and walked straight in without a moment’s hesitation. Secretary Phillips looked up from her work and watched impassively as the new arrivals stood in front of her.

  “Elaine Phillips?” Ruby asked.

  Phillips sat back in her chair staring thoughtfully at them both. She placed her pen slowly on top of a small stack of documents covering the surface of her solid, expensive-looking mahogany desk.

  When she spoke, the words were clear and deliberate. Stern, without being challenging. “I’m pretty sure someone from the CIA would know to address me as Madam Secretary.”

  Ruby let out a small sigh. “Right. Sorry. Madam Secretary, I—”

  “You are a very bold and very stupid young woman.” She glanced over at Jonas before continuing. “Today really isn’t the day to try passing yourselves off as government employees. Frankly, I’m astounded you even made it into the building. There will be some serious questions raised about the level of security at our front desk, given you talked your way in with the promise of fake credentials. But—”

  “Elaine… Madam… Secretary… Phillips… if I could just—”

  “But… that doesn’t change the fact you’re in a level of trouble I can assure you is beyond your comprehension.” She looked past them both at the door, just as it opened and four armed guards entered the room. “Get them out of here. Please.”

  Two of the guards stepped forward, each placing a hand on Jonas’ shoulders. He quickly shrugged them off, spinning around and holding the briefcase up in front of him like a weapon.

  “Get your fucking hands off me!” he growled.

  “Jonas!” yelled Ruby, glancing at him. “Easy… Madam Secretary, I’m sorry, I really am, but I need five minutes of your time. It’s a matter of national security.”

  Phillips regarded her silently for a moment, flicking her gaze between the two intruders and the briefcase. Eventually, she looked back at the guards and said, “Take them away.”

  “No! Wait! Please… my name is Ruby DeSouza. Adrian Hell sent me here. Do you know that name?”

  Phillips’ eyebrow twitched, and she held her hand up to the guards. “Adrian Hell is a wanted terrorist.”

  Ruby shook her head. “Adrian Hell is a goddamn hero. He’s being framed to cover up a massive conspiracy. A conspiracy we have undeniable evidence of. Please, you have to give me time to explain.”

  Phillips leaned forward and rested her elbows on her desk, interlocking her fingers. She nodded to the briefcase. “And is this evidence in there?”

  Ruby nodded. “Yes. It was given to us by General Thomas Matthews, the former CIA director.”

  “Former?”

  She glanced respectfully down at the floor. “He’s dead.”

  Phillips face failed to hide the shock and emotion, which Ruby picked up on.

  “You didn’t know… Shit, I’m very sorry. But he was involved in this conspiracy.”

  The secretary of state recovered quickly. “Show me.”

  Ruby turned to Jonas and nodded. He stepped forward and placed the briefcase on the desk. Phillips opened it and her eyes widened with surprise at the volume of content contained within.

  “Care to summarize this for me?” she asked.

  Jonas smirked. “Good luck with that…”

  Ruby ignored him. “I’m not as familiar with it as Adrian is, but, basically, President Cunningham was the brains behind the 4/17 attacks and this North Korean invasion. Everything that’s happened, and that’s happening now, is because of him. I know it sounds crazy, but the evidence is there in front of you.”

  Phillips stared at her with an unblinking gaze. Her heart rate began to climb slightly. She absently brushed a hand through her hair, and then looked at the four guards. “You can leave us, it’s okay.”

  “Madam Secretary, are you sure?” asked one of them. “I’m under orders to detain these people pending a formal arrest.”

  “I’m fairly certain any order I give outranks any orders given by anyone else in the building. I said leave.”

  Her tone was strong and final and prompted no further dispute. The guards filed out of the room, with the last shutting the door behind him.

  Ruby and Jonas watched them go and looked back at Phillips, who had leaned back in her chair once again.

  She stared at them both in turn. “Start talking.”

  27

  ADRIAN HELL

  17:56 EDT

  This traffic is shit. I can literally see the turn I need to take coming up on the left, which will lead me to the security firm, and our van, but these assholes in front of me aren’t moving when they have a chance to.

  “Come on…” I say, mostly to myself, as a gap appears for me to go through, but this clueless dick in front of me isn’t paying attention.

  And now the gap’s gone again. Fucking great!

  I let out a heavy, impatient sigh.

  Next to me, Oscar chuckles. “Man, I bet your road rage is somethin’ else!”

  I look across at him, unable to shift the angry expression from my face. But a smile slips through after a moment.

  “I don’t like waiting for things. I called in sick the day they were handing out the patience allowance.”

  “We’re almost there. I’ll drive to Washington once we’re in the van, give you a break.”

  “Thanks.” I glance ahead. “What’s causing this hold up?”

  “I can’t really see. It looks like—”

  An explosion sounds out, shaking the vehicle and everything around us. Ahead, a thick, dark plume of smoke rockets into the air, distributing dust and brick over the nearby area.

  “What the fuck was that?” I step out of the car, stand, and lean on the open door as I look around. People on every side of
me are doing the same. The bitter stench of the smoke is traveling quickly, burning my nostrils.

  Oscar joins me outside the car. “What the hell…?”

  My spider sense is doing somersaults. “I don’t like this…”

  Another loud explosion, this time away to my left. I instinctively duck my head a little as I look over and see two military Jeeps full of soldiers speeding toward our traffic jam. Behind them, in a black pickup truck, are four guys—two in the cab, two in the back. One’s standing, holding on with one hand and carrying a machine pistol in the other. His friend, who I can just about see crouching behind him hanging onto the side, is throwing grenades at the soldiers.

  What the…?

  I look back up the street and see another pickup truck appear from the right. All around me people start screaming. Men, women, children—some locking themselves in their cars, others abandoning them.

  “Adrian, what’s happening?”

  “If I were to guess, I would say Cunningham’s decreed martial law on account of the world being at war with North Korea. And by the looks of it, some of the locals ain’t all that pleased…”

  The guy on the left raises his machine pistol—which looks like a TEC-9 from here—and empties his mag into the air. A very amateurish attempt at crowd control, I think.

  I turn to Oscar. “This is gonna turn real ugly real fast. We should leave. Now.”

  “I’m with you on that…”

  I move to the trunk, open it, and take out the black sport bag full of weapons. I unzip it and select a handgun—a Beretta—and some ammo. I quickly tuck it at my back, pocket the spare mags, and pass the bag to Oscar.

  “You carry this, and I’ll shoot anyone who comes near us. Deal?”

  “Yes, sir…”

  People begin stampeding past, away from… whatever the hell is in front of us. Until I know exactly who’s behind this and how many there are, I need to stay smart and invisible.

  I crouch and signal to Oscar to do the same. “Follow my lead and stay close. Move when I do, hide when I do. We need to make it to that security firm. Nothing else matters, understand?”

 

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