America's Trust

by McDonald, Murray

  Looking through the boat’s contents, she had found the bikini but hadn’t thought anything of it. Only after her second find did she come back to the bikini. The thump below told her all she needed to know. The sleeping pills she had found had done their job, particularly as she had doubled the recommended dose.

  She pulled the power back, and as the boat slowed down, she rushed below. He hadn’t quite made it into the bed but the coffee containing the powdered pills was finished and he was mostly undressed. She hoisted him up with some difficulty and with far too much flesh-to-flesh contact than she would expect for someone she had known for so short a time. Although he was blissfully unaware of her top having become dislodged, it didn’t stop her being very conscious of their naked chests pressing together. For a man of his age, he had a rather exceptional physique. Men half his age didn’t look after themselves as well as he obviously did. His abs were nicely pronounced under a graying and well groomed mat of chest hair. She adjusted her top, cleared her mind and returned to the helm, just in time to power up and avoid drifting too far in shore.

  A long slow turn had them pointing back towards where they’d come from. They had to try everything they could to get to the president to warn him. It was probably the only way they’d ever manage to get to Washington in any event.

  Chapter 50

  “I feel like we’re getting our exam results,” said Lauren, bouncing at the prospect of where they were going to visit the following day. “Please let us get the White House!” she pleaded with Mike.

  The lists were posted after lunch. There were six lists, four with fifty names and two with twenty-five names. Lauren was only interested in one list, the White House list. The previous day had been spent on a management assessment course. It had been a hard and grueling experience, mainly outdoors. The members had been split into groups and throughout the day had been given various tasks to undertake. They had been analyzed and assessed for every second of the day. It was known, by those who had been through it, as the Q course. Lauren knew why. It was the same name given to the US Special Forces’ selection course and it had been the hardest day of her life. From 6 a.m. until midnight, they had not stopped. Even when they had, they had been told to make their selection for their preferred trip location. Even that had been a test. There were no names, just cryptic clues that had to be understood for you to know which was which.

  There was nothing Lauren didn’t know about the White House and she instantly spotted it. A second choice also had to be made, just in case your first one was full. The belief was that those that performed well on the course always got their first choice, and those who hadn’t got their alternate choice.

  When she finally got back to her room, there was a voicemail from her Uncle Bill on her cell. It had taken him far longer than expected to get to her from Georgia but he had made it. The roads were crazy but he had found a small bed and breakfast in Emmetsburg, just a few miles from her. He was there if he needed her, although it did seem that things were calming down. Just knowing he was there was all the comfort she needed, particularly as everyone, including the president, thought he was a great guy.

  Lauren ran down the alphabetical list. Mike was on the White House list. She ran down further, her finger racing towards the S’s and she was there too. She jumped up and down on the spot and hugged Mike. They had made it! In less than twenty-four hours, they’d be behind the scenes at the White House.

  The container under the lists was for their IDs, driving license, passport and student ID. All had to be deposited to be sent for a pre-clearance check at the location for which they had been selected. Lauren dropped hers in and with Mike in tow, headed off for an afternoon of workshops.

  ***

  With the members all out of sight, the containers were collected and taken through to the printing department, where a number of very skilled forgers waited to begin the reimaging of the IDs for their real purpose.

  Chapter 51

  Jack kicked off his shoes and relaxed on the Oval Office sofa with a scotch in one hand. Kenneth sat opposite and looked as stiff as ever.

  “Do you never just kick back and relax?” asked Jack, taking a sip of the rather tasty Glengoyne eighteen-year-old whisky.

  “Mr. President, this is me relaxed,” replied Kenneth, taking an awkward sip of the same scotch.

  They were celebrating what had been an extremely uneventful day. All phone calls had gone as planned. The build-up of troops in Europe had continued without incident. The Russians, although continuing to build their numbers, were remaining in a defensive position. Whoever had started the nonsense three days ago had been put firmly back in their box. Good men had been lost and Jack drank to James Marshall, the crew and passengers, and the three airmen who had lost their lives. He would have dearly loved to avenge their deaths but not at the expense of a full on war.

  That was the only shadow still hanging over the events of the last few days. The intelligence community had not a clue what was going on, who had started it, or for what reason. However, the main thing was it had seemingly stopped. Jack took another sip and savored the many flavors exploding in his mouth. Kenneth was drinking it like it was foul tasting water and not as the name itself proclaimed ‘the water of life’. Jack made a note to himself to get some cheap blended whisky for Kenneth. He wasn’t wasting the good stuff on him again.

  “Well, if you don’t mind, Kenneth, I think I’ll take this with me and hit the sack,” said Jack. It had been his most stressful few days in the White House, outside of his wife’s passing. It had also been his most rewarding. He had actually felt needed. He felt for once that his involvement was actually making a difference, something that the Trust had taken from him almost from the second he took office. He thought back to Don, the guy he had met in the bar, unbelievably just a few nights ago. He wondered whether his opinion of the president had changed. Jack took another sip. What he’d give to sit in the Raven and hear what the real people were saying about what was going on. Alas, that wasn’t going to happen, at least not until he ended his term. The capsule was gone and if the reports from Baltimore were to be believed, so was Butler. The scene was total devastation. The explosion was so complete and the fire so intense that little was left to discover. It was going to take weeks to pick through the debris to find any type of matter worthy of DNA testing.

  “It’s going to be strange tomorrow without the parade,” mused Jack as he stood up and stretched. He wished he hadn’t canceled the 4th of July parade but it just seemed wrong, given everything else that was going on. He had considered the idea of changing his mind but Kenneth had been as uncompromising at lifting the cancellation as he had been when advising Jack to cancel it. At least we’ll have the fireworks, thought Jack.

  “It was easier to cancel since people were pulling out anyway with everything else that is going on. But don’t forget you’ve got the Future Leaders tomorrow morning,” said Kenneth.

  Jack almost did a double take. “Seriously? That’s still going ahead?”

  “Why not? We do it every year.”

  “We do the parade every year too but you canceled that,” replied Jack angrily.

  “It’s hardly comparable, it’s only fifty students,” Kenneth stated reasonably.

  Jack wasn’t particularly bothered about the students coming; it was more the Trust was getting its way. He had begun to resent anything involving them, hence his outburst at the DSG people and their expulsion from the military operations. That morning, Kenneth had argued against Jack’s expulsion of them. His refusal to budge had resulted in a call from Roger Young. Jack wasn’t shifting.

  “Where else are they going again?” he asked.

  “The Capitol, the Pentagon, Mount Weather and…” Kenneth paused, shuffling through some papers, looking for a nonexistent list.

  Jack eyed him with some caution. Kenneth was far too close to the Trust.

  Beware the Trust.

  The words just wouldn’t go away. Jack let the
silence run. Kenneth continued to look for the nonexistent papers to check the locations.

  Jack’s cell ringing saved Kenneth. Unknown number. Jack sent Kenneth away in a hurry.

  “Ilya,” answered Jack, as Kenneth closed the door behind himself.

  “Jack, another long day.”

  “I’m afraid so, but a good one.”

  “For you perhaps,” replied Ilya ominously.

  Jack’s heart sank. He had thought the worst was over and they were on the way back from the brink. “Why, what’s happened?”

  “A runway Jack? On our islands, seriously?”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Ilya.”

  “Franz Josef Lands in the Barents Sea. They’re uninhabited but suddenly Prince George Island has a runway. A very handy stop-off to refuel before hitting our Northern ports.”

  Jack googled the islands as Ilya spoke and pulled up the map. “But they’re right next to Norwegian islands. Why the hell would we invade your territory and build a runway?”

  “Who knows why you guys do anything?” spat Ilya, unswayed.

  “I promise you, Ilya, we did not do this,” said Jack with sincerity.

  “It was well camouflaged, Jack. It is only thanks to a very diligent satellite imagery analyst that we spotted it.”

  “It’s not ours!” stated Jack more forcefully. “Perhaps one of your oligarchs or smugglers maybe?”

  “I don’t think so, Jack,” replied Ilya angrily. “I’m not sure they’d plant a US flag!”

  Neither would we! Jack screamed inside his head.

  “In any event, it will be destroyed tomorrow. I’m just letting you know as a courtesy. It’s only because we are still talking that I even made this call.”

  “Thank you, and I promise you, it isn’t us,” replied Jack to an empty line. Ilya had hung up.

  Chapter 52

  Saturday 4th July, 2015

  For the second day in a row, Butler woke up to a drug-induced headache. His head was pounding and his body craved fluids. It was dark; not setting sun dark, middle of the night dark. He struggled to his feet and checked the clock, 4:00 a.m. He had gone to sleep at 10 a.m. the previous morning, eighteen hours earlier. They were still moving, at least that was something. Swanson hadn’t crashed. He grabbed a drink of water and headed out onto deck.

  So many things were wrong that he didn’t know where to start. They had land on either side of them. Heading down the East Coast to Cuba, the only land to their left should have been three thousand miles away. They were in the center of a city, a large and sprawling city that looked a lot like... Butler caught sight of the monument, jutting majestically into the dark cloudless sky.

  “What in the fuck are we doing in Washington?”

  “Morning sleepy head,” replied Swanson, with a large, very pleased with herself smile breaking out despite her exhaustion.

  Butler shook his head. He had to hand it to her, it was a very good move. He smiled. To be honest, he had felt deep pangs of guilt at having bailed. He was a patriot and had taken an oath to defend the country just as she had.

  “More appropriately dressed, I see,” he said, taking the seat next to her.

  “I thought it might distract you,” she laughed.

  “From what exactly?”

  “Four valiums,” she said awkwardly, knowing exactly what he had meant.

  “Jesus!”

  “Yes, on second thought it was a bit much,” she allowed.

  “Next time you can do less.”

  “Let’s hope there is a next time,” she said, bringing them back to the reality of their situation.

  Butler nodded. “So what are we doing?”

  “Using the parade to get close to--”

  “The parade was cancelled,” Butler cut in.

  “Why?”

  “Not sure, but it may have had something to do with an imminent war and concerns of rioting on the streets due to food shortages,” said Butler sarcastically.

  “Oh. Oh well, no plan then,” she replied simply.

  The boat continued into the harbor and they moored, tying off at the furthest end of one of the small jetties that jutted into the Washington Channel.

  “You know we’re only about a mile a half from the White House here,” said Swanson as she looked across to the monument. “You could run it in six minutes.”

  Butler looked out at the quietness that surrounded them. She was right, they could just run over there. However, the only slight issue was they’d never make it. With no one on the streets, those who were would be under even greater scrutiny. What they needed, like Swanson had said, was a mass crowd for cover, not emptiness to stand out in.

  “Best thing you can do is grab some shut eye,” he concluded, noticing just how exhausted she looked. “I’ll try and think of something but trying now is a guaranteed suicide mission.”

  “Promise you won’t leave without me?” she asked with a heartfelt plea.

  “Yes,” he said instantly, much to his surprise meaning it wholeheartedly. “We’re in this together now.”

  Chapter 53

  Breakfast was a buzz of excitement. Two hundred and fifty Future Leaders were about to go on the ultimate field trip. The first twenty-five were called out of the breakfast room. They had a three hour flight to Cheyenne Mountain ahead.

  Lauren waved to two of her team members from the management assessment course. They had obviously not done particularly well. Cheyenne was seen as the worst option of all, although there had been a couple of die-hard fans of the War Games movie from the 80s who had actually picked it as a first option. It was considered a bit of a strange choice for the Future Leaders program but had always been there from the inaugural event three years earlier.

  Next to leave would be the White House, Capitol and Pentagon groups, their buses would leave in an hour. The Raven Rock and Mount Weather complexes were nearest to Camp Trust and their groups would be last to leave.

  Lauren rushed out to wave her two new friends goodbye.

  They stood waiting as those in front were checked onto the bus. She hugged them as they stepped forward and onto the bus.

  “Text me when you land!” called Lauren, sticking her head around the doorway.

  “They won’t be able to text or call; all cells are taken once you leave the building,” replied the very officious Trust employee who had checked and double-checked the Cheyenne group onto the bus.

  “Why?” asked Lauren.

  “It just is,” said the official, waving Lauren away. “If you have anyone you want to text or call, do it now. You won’t be able to once we get to the plane until you arrive back here tonight.”

  As the bus pulled away, not one of the group looked up They were all busy typing messages explaining they’d be uncharacteristically silent for the best part of the day.

  ***

  With nothing better to do, Bill Swann had caught the sunrise. Beautiful shots across the Maryland landscape with the sun twinkling on the early morning dew were going to be spectacular. With the sun up and the drama of the early morning light gone, he turned to his hunting rifle. The air was breathless and perfect for a day’s hunting. He tracked deep into the wilderness and set up a few targets. He had the best part of the day to amuse himself before his niece returned. He lined up his first shot, three hundred yards, a warm up. He squeezed the trigger, another ounce and the rifle would fire.

  The rumble in the distance stopped him instantly. It was a rumble he knew only too well. Lying prone on the ground, he felt the vibrations echo through his chest. He listened with his trained ear, filtering out the sounds echoing off of the hills around him and focusing on the original sound. It was off to his left, the same direction as Camp Trust and Lauren. He jumped up and made off as fast as his legs would carry him. Even his beloved camera was dumped to aid his speed.

  ***

  “White House!” called the Trust employee.

  Lauren and Mike stood up and joined the forty-eight ot
her very eager students filtering out towards their waiting coach. Excited waves from those still waiting for their coach bade them farewell and good luck.

  As they filed onto the bus, the same message was barked out to them. Their cells would be taken from them and only returned at the end of the day, so any messages they wanted to send had to be sent now. Lauren and Mike quickly fired off messages to their parents, Lauren copying hers to her Uncle Bill.

  With the cells safely collected from the passengers, a metal detecting wand, much to the consternation of all on board, ensured that no one had tried to hide theirs away. The coach pulled away from the main building and turned left at the end of the road instead of turning right towards the main road. The driver then turned right towards the main garage that housed the Trust’s motor pool, a massive two-ended open warehouse. It seemed he planned to drive through the building and out of the other side, which would have them back on the route towards the main road.

  “That’s weird,” said Lauren to Mike. “The other coach driver made exactly the same mistake with the earlier group!”

  Anybody watching would have seen one bus full of kids entering one end before shortly leaving the other end. The only difference was that it wasn’t the same coach and it wasn’t the same kids.

  Chapter 54

  The package was sitting on his desk waiting for him. The brown paper envelope was stamped ‘URGENT’. Nothing else, just ‘urgent’. Intrigued, he picked it up and tore it open. A DVD was inside. Having no idea of what it contained, he called a tech support guy. He wasn’t shoving a random DVD into his computer not knowing it wasn’t some type of virus designed to bring down the whole television network. It wouldn’t be the first time the network had been targeted.