Patriot's Farewell

by Bobby Akart

  As she made this statement, the V-26 Osprey lifted off the ground to return to Guam. With its size, it would be noticeable to any Chinese satellite reconnaissance, as well as other prying eyes in this part of Ruifang District.

  “Tell us what you can before we head out,” said Drew.

  “First and foremost, let me discuss your rally points for extraction. This is one location. In the next twelve to fifteen hours, the USS Petersen will be in position on the eastern side of Okinawa. They will have choppers on standby to pick you up from this point. If we are compromised, or if you are unable to travel northeast out of Taipei, then the more rural escape route will be toward Hualien Airport, where the rest of the Guam units landed earlier today.”

  “Did they have any difficulty reaching the AIT?” asked Drew.

  “Delays but no meaningful, hostile resistance,” she replied. “I have to tell you, the biggest challenge you’re going to face is getting through the throngs of people filling the streets. It appears that half of Taipei’s three million residents are wandering about, complaining about one thing or another.”

  King Dawson wandered closer to Wu and asked, “What kind of vehicles do you have for us?”

  “We have ten undistinguished Veryca vans made by, ironically, the Chinese Motor Corporation. The CMCs have been modified by International Armoring to be fully bulletproof. In addition, the rear cargo has secure lockers for additional weapons, ammo, medical supplies, and communications gear.”

  “We broke into teams of two on our way from Guam,” Drew said as he studied the maps pinned to the walls.

  “Before you go, we can spend a few minutes going over each location with your teams, providing you the benefit of our local knowledge,” said Wu. “Jackson, I understand you and a partner will take the original location of Ambassador McBride following the abduction.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Who is your partner?”

  “Me, ma’am,” said King in his booming, baritone voice.

  “Do either of you speak Mandarin or know the city?” she asked.

  “Only what we’ve studied during the long trip out here, ma’am,” replied Drew.

  “I have one of my most trusted people on station to assist you. He also happens to be my son-in-law, Tai Shi Liu.”

  “Ma’am, this is going to be dangerous. I’m not sure I want the responsibility of your—”

  “Let me assure you, Mr. Jackson, Tai is more than capable of keeping you and King alive. He is an extremely rare tenth-degree black belt. Further, he is also a past champion in Filipino martial arts.”

  Drew nodded his head with approval. He was unaware of the relative degrees of martial arts, but he was sure he’d never encountered a tenth degree. Filipino martial arts caught his attention. As a boy, Drew practiced tirelessly using his knife both defensively and offensively. He began to study the techniques of the Filipinos, which he quickly admired because they were a blade culture. The number of targets he’d eliminated with the lightning-quick, deadly accurate throw of his blade were numerous. If Wu was offering this asset for his use, he’d be foolish to turn her down, family or not.

  “Absolutely, Tai is more than welcome. Let’s get started on this briefing so we can find the ambo.”

  Chapter 62

  8:00 p.m.

  The Yellow Oval Room in the Executive Residence

  The White House

  Washington, DC

  The Yellow Oval Room was located in the center of the Executive Residence and was used to privately host important guests. The yellow-dominated décor was introduced to the room by Dolly Madison in the early nineteenth century, but its first real makeover came courtesy of President Harry Truman, who added a large balcony under the roof of the South Portico. The addition provided incredible outdoor views of the South Lawn and the Washington Monument.

  The Sargent children, along with Penny and Becca Quinn, were happily settled on the third floor above them. Becca, always the organized one, had a schedule that carried them until well after their normal bedtime. The two sets of parents acquiesced to the late night soiree under one condition—none of you are allowed to come downstairs.

  The Sargents and Quinns needed some adult time to calm down from an eventful three days. In addition, Donald and Sargent would only be allowed the next eight hours to relax before they might be summoned to the Situation Room because of Operation Golden Retriever.

  “You know what’s funny about this room,” started Donald. “You just don’t feel like you can kick your shoes off and throw your smelly feet on the coffee table.”

  “Watch me.” The group began to laugh as Sarge kicked off his Topsiders and propped his feet on the antique table.

  Julia took a sip of her wine and set it on the table next to Sarge’s feet. Then she thought better of it and stretched to place it on an end table. “The White House photographer took pictures of this room for Architectural Digest this morning. It made me realize how far our country has come since all hell broke loose.”

  “Yeah, there was a time that I thought we’d be living in the bungalows at Prescott Peninsula for years to come,” added Susan. “I don’t ever want to take this moment for granted.”

  Sarge lifted his glass and said, “Cheers to that!”

  “Are you guys gonna miss all of this?” asked Susan.

  Sarge showed a devilish grin as he sipped his Glenlivet. “We won’t miss it as much as Donald.”

  “Screw you, Mr. President,” Donald snapped back. “Don’t start with me after the last crappy couple of days.”

  “C’mon, Donald, you know you’ve loved it,” teased Sarge. “Besides, what are we gonna do when this is over? My days running the affairs of the Boston Brahmin may be numbered.”

  “Honey, do you think it’ll come to that?” asked Julia.

  “I don’t know, maybe. Probably. It could be for the best. Gardner Lowell played me like a fiddle on this one.”

  “It’s my fault,” interjected Donald, his dejection over the events consuming him through dinner.

  “No, Donald, it’s mine. I’ve relied upon you so much that I didn’t take a more active role in watching over those scoundrels on Capitol Hill. I don’t blame Gardner too much. His betrayal was a long time coming. I blame the members of Congress I thought I could count on.”

  “Well, it’s done now, right, guys?” asked Susan.

  Sarge didn’t want to burst Susan’s bubble, but in many ways, the real battle was just beginning. The vote was the equivalent to the shot heard around the world. The real shooting would begin tomorrow.

  “Yeah, over and done,” said Donald.

  Sarge was starting to feel sorry for his dear friend, and he needed to snap him out of the doldrums. Time to get him riled up.

  “Hey, enough serious shoptalk. Let’s refill our cocktails and play an adult game.”

  Sarge jumped off the couch and moseyed over to the small bar wheeled in by the White House staff. He refilled everyone’s drinks as they waited for what he had in mind.

  “We’re a little too old for strip poker, don’t you think, Henry?” quipped Julia.

  “Agreed. How about would you rather—after the White House edition.”

  “Forget it,” objected Donald.

  “Come on, Donald. Let’s talk about it. We’ll be moving back to Boston before we know it. What will our life look like?”

  “Okay, Sarge,” started Donald. “Would you rather sign on for a third term or run the Boston Brahmin?”

  Sarge almost choked on his scotch. “Fortunately, I don’t really have to make that choice, thanks to the Twenty-Second Amendment. But you know, I don’t have the drive to run the Brahmin interests the way they need to be run. If it were possible, I think I’d do another four-year tour of duty.”

  “Interesting,” said Julia. “I thought you’d had enough.”

  “After today, I think I have, right, Donald?” asked Sarge.

  “Yeah, for sure.”

  “Quid
pro quo, Donald. Would you rather work by my side in the Oval for another four years, or run things from your perch at 73 Tremont?”

  “I’d rather jump off the Truman Balcony behind me and go screaming into the night!”

  “I vote Boston. What about you, Susan?” asked Julia.

  “Boston.”

  “Guys?” asked Susan.

  “Boston, without a doubt,” replied Donald.

  Sarge furrowed his brow and stared into space. An odd sense of foreboding came over him as he heard Julia repeatedly trying to draw him out of his trance.

  Sarge, Sarge.

  Chapter 63

  11:00 p.m. ET

  New Taipei City

  Taiwan

  Tai took a circuitous route in his approach to the southern part of the Taipei metropolis where the original vehicle carrying Ambassador McBride had pulled into a residential compound. The direct options through the city were bogged down by protestors and military vehicles attempting to cordon off the city.

  Drew was notified by Control at Aegis that martial law would in fact be announced before nightfall. The teams would have less than six hours to find their locations and, hopefully, the ambassador. Depending on the location of the ambassador, in order to regroup, the rest of the teams might have to travel across the area known as New Taipei City after dark and through the obstacles established by the Taiwan military.

  As they approached the southernmost point of New Taipei City, Drew came to the realization that each team might be on their own without support for hours. Once the ambassador was located, they might have to move on their own. He didn’t like the odds, especially being located in a foreign country surrounded by angry mobs.

  “This is Xindian District,” announced Tai, carefully pronouncing the word shin-din for his American companions. Slowing to take a large banked curve, he turned up the same six-lane freeway used by the abductors. The traffic began to slow as they got closer to the central part of the city. “Another mile and we will enter the residential neighborhood where the compound is located. This part of the city was originally under Japanese rule in the 1920s. It was primarily farmland until the eighties when this highway was built. After that, the town exploded with development, but it remains home to Taiwan’s largest population of Japanese descendants.”

  As Tai narrated, Drew and King studied every available photograph of the compound from the sky. Once they left the vehicle and made their approach, they wouldn’t have the luxury of pulling out pictures, notes, or maps.

  Suddenly, Tai jammed on the brakes as the vehicle approached a slight incline. Traffic had slowed to a crawl. Bumper-to-bumper traffic continued to block their advance for twenty minutes.

  “C’mon, man. This is ridiculous,” complained King. He grabbed the map and handed it to Drew and Tai in the front seat. “How far is it from here?”

  Tai studied the map and pointed to their location on the freeway. “We’re half a mile from the exit and another mile or so from the compound.”

  “C’mon, Drew. Let’s hoof it,” said King.

  “You’re out of your mind, right? You and me, in full kits, strolling down the streets of Taipei. That won’t attract attention.”

  “We gotta do something ’cause we’re goin’ nowhere fast.”

  Tai continued to inch the van forward while Drew contemplated their options. “We could get a head start. There are other people walking along the highway. We could ditch the kits, go to sidearms only, and follow the crowd. It might take us thirty minutes to get there, but at least we could start our recon.”

  “Yeah, we won’t engage until Tai catches up with us, right?”

  Drew nodded as he looked out the passenger window. “That’s what I’m thinkin’.”

  “Gentlemen,” interjected Tai, “even without your gear, you two will stand out. Mr. Dawkins, I’m willing to bet you are the only six-foot-five black man in all of Taiwan at the moment.”

  “Yeah,” said King with a bellowing laugh. “Maybe they’ll get out of my way as I plow down the road.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, Tai, but I’m willing to risk it. It may take you an hour or more to catch up with us. We can get the lay of the land while we wait.”

  “Let’s do this, Slash,” said King.

  “Slash?” asked Tai.

  “Yeah, it’s a nickname I’ve carried since I was a kid. I’m pretty good with a blade myself.”

  “Have you practiced the arts?”

  Drew began to laugh as he got his gear ready. “I don’t know if you would call it art. But I could stick a wild pig in the woods faster than my buddies could shoot it.”

  “Hands-on training,” mumbled Tai.

  Drew and King were ready to leave the van when Drew hesitated for a moment. “Tai?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you ever killed anyone?” asked Drew.

  “I have been trained to the highest level of physical and Filipino martial arts, so—”

  Drew cut him off. “Tai, I need to know. Have you ever killed anyone?”

  “Um, no. I have not.”

  “Good to know. Meet us at the compound, but, Tai, under no circumstances are you to leave this van. Are we clear?”

  “Clear. I understand.”

  “Text me your progress. Let’s go, King.”

  PART FOUR

  Thanksgiving Day

  November 2024

  Chapter 64

  5:00 a.m. ET

  Xindian District

  New Taipei City

  Drew mentally ticked off a list of possible hazards before he and King entered the compound—overwhelming defenses, snipers, and tripwires with improvised explosive devices. Their surveillance of the residential area didn’t reveal anything out of the norm. Vehicular traffic was brisk, but no one had entered or exited the compound since they’d arrived. As nightfall set in, it was time to make their move.

  “Alpha One, you’re a go.” Drew received his green light from Aegis Control. From this point forward, he and his team of eight were ghosts. Officially, the United States government handed them off to the private contractor, Aegis. Control, however, would have full access to the real-time imagery supplied by the NSA drone flying overhead.

  “Roger that.” Drew nodded to King before the two darted between parked cars and underneath the fronds of palm trees that lined the sidewalk and gave a modicum of coverage.

  The residential compound took up a city block of approximately two and a half acres. As they had circled the perimeter during the daylight, they identified the two four-car garages under a stand of trees. There was a large swimming pool with an adjacent pool house on the back side of the garages. A two-story main house was placed near the center of the compound together with a guest house containing its own entrance off the street.

  The top of the ten-foot wall was rounded but otherwise unprotected by any form of deterrent like wire. Earlier, they’d identified their breach point—an area between two palm trees that was marked no parking.

  Drew whispered into his comms, “All teams, we’re a go.” At the six locations across the city where the vans were last seen, each team was given the green light to search the likely location where the ambassador was being held.

  “Alpha Two, let’s roll,” said Drew into the radio, advising Tai to get into position.

  “Roger, Alpha One,” replied Tai, who had remained with the vehicle. His job was to drive to the breach point, quickly back into the void between the two palms, thus creating a ladder of sorts, allowing Drew and King to crawl up on the van and drop quickly into the compound.

  Tai slowly turned the corner and approached the opening. Traffic in both directions prevented him from stopping and backing in to the compound’s wall. After a moment of waiting for a break in the traffic, Tai took off and rounded the block.

  Drew was concerned this might draw attention, so he radioed Tai. He turned to King. “If I hoist you onto the wall, I’ll need you to pull me up.”

  “P
iece of cake for these guns. What are you? One eighty-five soaking wet?”

  “Two hundred plus, big guy,” replied Drew. “Tai will never be able to stop and back in. He’s gonna have to go hood first, which will make it a bigger leap to the top of the wall. You’ll be exposed while you pull me to the top.”

  “No problem, let’s do it.”

  Drew raised Tai on the radio. “After you circle the block, don’t try to back in. Just pull onto the sidewalk nose first. We’ll make it work.”

  “Roger.”

  Five minutes later, the men had scaled the wall and dropped onto the ground within the compound. This was their first real look at the layout. They scrambled along the wall until they found an overgrown bougainvillea bush.

  “That’s a hundred yards of lawn to cross with no cover,” said King. “If we hug the wall and head to our right, one of us can cross toward the side of the house with fewer windows.”

  “I’ll go first,” volunteered the smaller, quicker Drew. “Moving.”

  Using the bounding overwatch buddy system of providing suppressive fire if necessary while your partner moved through an open area, Drew darted toward a darkened part of the compound and found protection behind a short grouping of palms.

  “Move,” Drew said, instructing King to follow him along the wall to the slight cover of the sago palm cluster.

  “Moving.” King, who was fairly agile for his size, lumbered along the wall in a short crouch.

  The men carefully made their way across the lawn and approached the rear of the two-story home. Drew easily gained access to a utility room by picking the lock on a rear door.

  Methodically, they cleared the home and found no evidence that anyone had been there. The kitchen was neat and tidy. The living spaces were immaculate and well kept.

  “Drew, have we wasted our time surveilling an empty house?” asked King.