America's Trust

by McDonald, Murray

  “What was that? A fucking Apache helicopter?” she shouted, adrenaline and fear coursing through her body in equal quantities.

  “Not quite,” replied Butler having recognized exactly what it was. “But let’s just say, it has confirmed that I was right all along.”

  Chapter 44

  The news coming back from Baltimore was not good, the Colonel was furious at the onsite commander’s decision to flatten the other building. However, given the feedback, it seemed he had little option. With seconds to spare before local authorities and the National Guard responded to alarm calls from the FBI offices, it was the only real option to deal with the targets. Above all else, his orders were to avoid a battle with local forces and to cover his tracks. It was not the time for them to be exposed. Their parting gesture was to trigger a massive explosion in the FBI offices. It would take the authorities days to sift through the debris and uncover what had really taken place. Losing nine troopers was bad enough but receiving the news from the sole survivor of the St. John’s building that the targets had escaped was disastrous. Two buildings destroyed, nine troops and dozens of FBI personnel dead and all for nothing.

  It had not gone over well with Roger Young. He had uncharacteristically lost control with the Colonel. The Colonel, not one for histrionics, would give him one pass. After all, the news was bad and ultimately reflected on Roger. To be frank, the Colonel had more to worry about than Tom Butler. His role was far bigger than even Roger was aware. In fact, should Roger get in his way, he had the authority to replace him. Roger’s usefulness was coming to an end. However, such a move was not without major problems that the Colonel would rather avoid if possible. On top of all that, however, the Colonel owed Roger; it was Roger who had sought him out and put him where he was today, back in the realms of where he had always felt most comfortable.

  The Military Operations Center around him buzzed with excitement. The deployment of the National Guard had afforded them the ability to use equipment that, at any other time, would draw close scrutiny, hence his ability to send out four military choppers to Baltimore, including two attack choppers. Adorned as if part of the US military, they blended perfectly with the other military equipment deployed throughout the state. The only problem would come if somebody recognized they weren’t normal US kit.

  When his phone buzzed, he ignored it. He was busy. When it buzzed again, he checked the caller ID. It was Roger Young, no doubt wanting to apologize for his earlier outburst. He ignored it. When it rang a third time, he picked it up.

  “I just rang to apologize,” said Roger, rather pathetically.

  “Thank you,” replied the Colonel halfheartedly. He didn’t really care anymore.

  “I was out of line but you do realize how dangerous Butler is to us, don’t you?”

  To be honest, the Colonel didn’t believe he was. The clock was already ticking down with an inevitability that was unstoppable. Whatever Butler could do, the Colonel failed to comprehend how it could in any way stop the plan. In fact, with the ingenuity of what was to come - it was impossible for anyone to stop it. Even the president of the United States couldn’t stop it. In a little over forty-four hours, America would no longer exist. However, he was also a pragmatist. There was no point tempting fate.

  “Indeed,” he replied.

  “So what is the plan to stop him?” asked Roger.

  “Quite simply, Washington is closed to them. They won’t get through. We have checkpoints on every road coming into the city. The National Guard being deployed has made our life a lot easier. However, that doesn’t stop them just calling someone.”

  “That’s covered from my end,” Roger replied. “Although I’m not sure there’s anyone left for them to trust,” he laughed.

  The laugh grated on the Colonel, whose gratitude towards Roger was seriously waning. Forty-four hours, he thought. After that, Roger’s role was complete. And the Colonel’s orders were clear. Roger Young would become a liability and was to be killed.

  Chapter 45

  Poland

  With over fifteen hundred miles of border to protect and defend, Admiral James G. Keeler, the Unified Combatant Commander of Europe and Supreme Allied Commander Europe for NATO, wanted to see exactly how things on the ground were progressing. He had seen enough projections and charts over the last thirty-six hours to fill a lifetime. Nothing replaced seeing it up close and personal. The news that Ukraine had acceded to the overwhelming economic and political pressure from Russia had made his job all the more difficult. Although aging, the Ukraine forces were significant and more importantly, her borders would stretch his forces even further.

  The flight from his base in Stuttgart had been low and slow. The massive operation below was put into perspective as trains stretching into the distance carried heavy equipment, artillery pieces, tanks, personnel carriers and troops to the front line. Fighters, helicopters and attack choppers flew past them almost continually as the NATO forces repositioned their forces. Landing at the Minsk Mazowiecki airbase put the projections and charts into even sharper focus. It was chaos, but organized chaos. The small base was swamped with aircraft parked in every spare inch of ground while engineers hastily prepared a temporary runway to double the base’s capability. At only fifty miles from the Belarusian border, where the Belarusian and Russian forces were amassing, it was going to be a vital backup to the ground forces ahead.

  “Sir, we have your helicopter prepped and ready to go,” said the base commander, saluting the Admiral from his small prop plane.

  “Thanks, I’ll have a quick walk around, speak to some of the men and I’ll be out of your way in ten minutes,” he promised. He knew his presence would only detract from the work that was underway.

  Admiral Keeler lasted five minutes before it became apparent he was just a hindrance. He boarded the small UH-72 observation helicopter and instructed the pilot again to keep it low and slow. He wanted to see what was happening below, although this time, he would have the benefit of being able to stop when he wanted and speak to the troops. After forty miles of flight, the transports below began to come to a stop as the tanks took up positions. The Polish countryside was already littered with vast quantities of equipment. The Admiral shook his head at how quickly it had all been deployed. Most of the equipment already in situ was the regular kit from across the NATO forces in Europe. The equipment still on transports had been in storage for just this type of event. The equipment on show was the most advanced available to each of the forces present. Much more remained in storage, such as older models that could be called upon if needed. Mechanics and engineers were working around the clock, getting them battle ready. Admiral Keeler hoped he’d never need to call on them.

  German Leopard tanks gave way to British Challengers and French Leclerc’s. He began to wonder if the US troops were even there. Finally the US contingent came into view, line after line of the most powerful main battle tank ever designed. Faster, bigger and more powerful than any previous model, the new Abrams was a sight to behold. It could outshoot and outrun any of its NATO counterparts, who themselves could outshoot and outrun anything the Russians had to offer. Apache attack helicopters waited ominously, ready to support their ground-based cousins. Mobile missile units and artillery guns were in place, adding even more firepower to the forces below.

  The Admiral instructed the pilot to fly towards the border. He wanted to see what they were up against. The short flight was one of stark contrast. The professionalism of the NATO forces was in no way matched by the halfhearted preparations of the Russian forces who, the Admiral had to remind himself, were the aggressors; it was they who had started the tensions that had led to President King deploying forces. The Admiral had known the president for many years and knew that when it came to the fight, the president did not hold back. He fought hard and fast. Perhaps the Russians did not understand just how he operated. He didn’t hold back; the president believed overwhelming forces and firepower saved lives. Well, certainly American
lives. And from what the Admiral could see, they were going to save a lot of American lives. The NATO forces below were already impressive and would continue to grow for the next few days as more and more equipment and men made it the front line.

  The Admiral looked again at what faced them. It was going to be a massacre. What the hell were the Russians playing at? As everyone knew, they were in no position to start a war.

  He signaled for the pilot to head back to base. His return to Stuttgart would be by fast jet. It would be too dark to see below and he had a conference with the president and the other combatant commanders to dial into.

  Chapter 46

  “I’m not entirely sure what you’re telling me,” said Jack irritably.

  “The FBI office in Baltimore has been destroyed, no survivors have been reported,” replied the FBI director.

  “Jesus, man, that’s the bit I understand! How did it happen?”

  “A massive explosion, so big it seems to have taken down the building opposite as well.”

  “Butler and Swanson?”

  “Prime suspects at the moment. We can’t ignore the fact they were handing themselves in there at the time it happened.”

  “Explain that one to me,” Jack said, confused at the logic.

  “Well, we’re not entirely sure what took place, they are fugitives after all.”

  “What’s Swanson done to be classed as a fugitive, taken a day off work?” asked Jack, struggling to keep up with the FBI’s reasoning.

  The FBI director fidgeted awkwardly on the sofa, wishing he hadn’t personally gone to see the president and had instead updated him on the situation by phone.

  “The Secret Service--”

  “Whoa, just slow down,” interrupted Jack. “The Secret Service who are unaware of who Jack Butler is?’ he asked sarcastically.

  “It turns out that was an error. They were aware of him. A computer glitch had stopped information on new cases updating their systems.”

  “Bullshit,” said Jack. “This whole thing stinks of bullshit.”

  “I’ve been briefed on Mr. Butler’s background, it seems he is an explosives expert,” said the FBI director, as if it was a conclusion.

  “Who briefed you?”

  “The CIA.”

  “Wait a minute, when did they get involved?”

  “Tom Butler is ex-CIA,” replied the director, as though Jack should have known.

  “The Secret Service agent who briefed me never told me that.”

  “It seems they have only recently been made aware themselves.”

  Jack shook his head. The plot thickened. An ex-CIA agent who had left a message for him was working with the head of the FBI’s Washington office and had supposedly offered to hand himself in to the Baltimore office but decided to blow up it and all its agents instead? All for no apparent reason or benefit?

  “Have we confirmed they are not in the wreckage? Perhaps they were the targets?” asked Jack. None of it made any sense.

  “The debris is too unstable. We’ve not been able to gain access as yet.”

  “So when?”

  “A specialist crew is en-route but it may be tomorrow before they are able to stabilize the building and days for us to sift through the debris and piece together what happened.

  “So Butler could be dead or in fact could be continuing his dastardly evil plot to kill me from Baltimore?” asked Jack. He was angry at how incompetent his law enforcement agencies seemed to be.

  The FBI director smartly remained quiet and simply nodded.

  Jack turned to Kenneth, who had sat quietly throughout the debacle of an update. Kenneth had been relieved that the work done by the Trust to cover their tracks had been successful. A highly skilled computer technician in the Secret Service would be receiving a significant bonus for his work on retro-creating the Tom Butler case into the system, thereby protecting the Trust’s agent who had updated the president the previous day.

  “I want Tom Butler’s CIA file on my desk within the hour,” barked Jack to Kenneth. “And when the FBI director here gets his thumb out of his ass and starts finding out what’s really going on, I want two-hourly updates on the situation.”

  The FBI director took his leave. The president’s comments to Kenneth left him in no doubt about how the president felt about his handling, or lack thereof, of the Butler situation.

  “I’m taking personal charge of this case from now on,” were the director’s parting words.

  When the Oval Office door closed behind him, Jack hit his call button and instructed Joan to join them. He dictated a letter to be sent to each and every family of the agents of the Baltimore tragedy.

  As she was leaving to type up the letters, Jack’s cell rang. Unknown number.

  “Kenneth, would you mind?” asked Jack, beckoning to the door.

  Kenneth did mind, but left as requested.

  When the door closed, Jack answered.

  “Ilya?”

  “Jack, how are you?”

  “Tense.”

  “Hmm, yes. It is very tense around here too. You’ve certainly not held back on your forces.”

  “I never do. Hard and fast,” he replied.

  “My generals are worried, Jack,” he countered.

  “If everyone can just settle down, there’s nothing to worry about,” Jack said calmly.

  “That’s the problem, Jack, you’re unsettling them. They’re beginning to wonder if you guys have planned this all along.”

  “What?” Jack’s temper was flaring at the mere suggestion that he wanted this.

  “You know we’re in no position to challenge you. The suggestion we would start a war at this time is ludicrous! You’re stronger than you’ve ever been while we’re weaker than we’ve ever been. They’ve put two and two together and hit five. Nothing else makes sense to them.”

  Jack considered the argument. As ridiculous as it sounded, it could make sense if you were struggling to find any alternatives.

  “So you’ve not found any internal factions or old guard looking to overthrow you? What about the B2 pilot, surely he’s talked?”

  “No and other than his name, rank and serial number nothing.”

  “He’s Vietnamese by birth, we thought he may have ties to the KGB through his parents,” said Jack, going out on a limb.

  “I’ve been there. His parents were known as CIA collaborators. The KGB had a bounty on their heads.”

  Jack began to consider whether his hard and fast approach was about to backfire for the first time ever. If the Russians really were not to blame for the previous incidents and the pilot’s parents were CIA after all, he was beginning to consider a truly scary scenario. It was a faction within the US that was trying to start the war. Jack was an open book. Everyone knew he took no risks and his reaction to the given scenarios would be a massive and overwhelming deployment of forces. He had to stop looking externally and start looking internally.

  Beware the Trust.

  Surely not? Even they didn’t have that amount of power and influence. Who was he kidding? They had exactly that amount of power and influence.

  “Ilya, what can I do to ease things at your end?”

  “I don’t think you can. The generals are about to issue a call-up for all reservists to report for duty. We are facing massive forces from the West and the East with the Chinese.”

  “Can’t you stop them?”

  “Yes, but given their argument, I’d have had to risk exposing the country to being overrun without a fight. I’m afraid a no confidence motion would have had me out of office quicker than you could deploy the other half of your army.”

  “How many men are we talking?”

  “Approximately three million, all told, between ourselves and our allies,” replied Ilya.

  “You know we never asked the Chinese to respond.”

  “Jack, we have massive forces mounting on our borders and we have no evidence to suggest it has been as a result of actions from ourselves. We can
not sit back and do nothing.”

  “Ilya, I promise you this is not our doing,” said Jack, amazed himself at how quickly the tables had turned. “Please keep this line open, we need to keep talking to save ourselves from whoever is trying to start a war.”

  “I believe you, but there’s only so much I can do. We need to keep talking, though. At least nothing more has happened today.”

  “Thank God. Talk soon my friend.”

  He hit the intercom. “Joan? Get me the head of every intelligence agency we have in the Situation Room, either personally or on video, within the next ten minutes.”

  He grabbed Kenneth on the way down to the Situation Room to clear it of whoever was there.

  Kenneth listened as Jack updated him. For Kenneth, the news couldn’t be better, but outwardly he shared Jack’s concern. A quick SMS updated Roger that the plan was progressing as scheduled.

  Chapter 47

  They had spent the last hour just driving. Every time Swanson had suggested they stop, Butler had disagreed. They needed distance between themselves and whatever the hell had just happened. The second explosion had rocked the car even more than the first, despite them having been further away. Taking down an FBI building was not the act of people who wanted to stay under the radar. It was the sign of people who felt the radar was no longer an issue. Eventually, they hit the US 40 and headed North, away from Baltimore and Washington.

  Butler began to look through the sorely inadequate map left in the car by the rental company. Only the major roads were displayed, along with businesses who deemed it profitable to advertise their location on a map for a rental car that did not require a credit card. There were not many, and certainly not many locations that interested them. One item did stand out, however, and they were approaching the exit for it.