Selected: A Thriller

by J. Allen Wolfrum

  The Situation Room was reduced to essential personnel only. Susan did not want the Situation Room full of analysts if there was another tragic ending to the rescue mission. The helmet cameras of the Special Forces team members were put on the monitors for those remaining in the Situation Room.

  During the mission brief, the team leader, Sergeant First Class Washington, pressed hard for more details on the mission. His best friend died in the previous failed rescue attempt and he wasn’t letting anyone on his team die the same way. The mission details were limited: grab the occupants of a white Mercedes SUV and bring them back to base. They were told no other details about the mission. The audio feed in the Situation Room connected as the team received their final orders before walking onto the tarmac. “And gentlemen, don’t be surprised if we run into resistance on the ground. Remember the rules of engagement. If you see a weapon, don’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”

  Susan felt a hollow pit in her stomach. She had a feeling that the pilots were in the Mercedes SUV and the thought of a friendly fire incident shook her to the core. She resisted the urge to get on the radio and correct the team. She didn’t want to break their concentration or put doubt in their minds based on her hunch.

  The Special Forces team split into two groups of four and rode in separate helicopters to the last known position of the Mercedes SUV. After five minutes of flying low and fast, the pilot of the lead helicopter identified the SUV and made a wide circle before landing on the highway in front of the vehicle. The second helicopter landed behind the vehicle.

  Two men from each Special Forces team closed in on the vehicle while the other two provided security. Sergeant First Class Washington could only see the outlines of two men standing in front of the vehicle with their hands in the air. The thumping sound of helicopter blades overpowered all other sound. The men moved toward him. He looked to his right and saw his teammate take a knee and aim his weapon at the men. The men kept moving forward and Sergeant First Class Washington recognized them as Lt. Colonel Harris and Lt. Colonel Rodriguez. He quickly looked again toward his teammate and watched his thumb flick the selector on his rifle from safe to fire. He sprinted toward his teammate and shouted in his ear, “Friendly! Friendly! Friendly!”

  Sergeant First Class Washington’s teammate flipped the selector back to safe and they moved together toward the pilots. The sound of whirring helicopter blades made verbal communication nearly impossible. The pilots kept their hands in the air until the rescue team lowered their weapons. The rescue team huddled around the pilots and took a quick moment to scan the area. The rescue team medic shouted a simple question into each pilot’s ear, “Can you move?” Lt. Colonel Rodriguez and Lt. Colonel Harris both responded with a nod and a thumbs-up.

  The rescue team was on the ground for less than one minute and the entire mission took less than fifteen minutes. In the helicopter, the whirring of the blades overpowering any attempt at conversation, Rodriguez and Harris thanked the rescue team with a smile and a thumbs-up. Besides their gaunt faces, the rescued pilots appeared to be in good health.

  The White House Situation Room remained dead silent throughout the mission. Memories of the last failed rescue mission lingered in the minds of everyone in the room. When the Black Hawk landed safely at the JSOC command post, the room erupted in cheers and applause.

  At the JSOC command post, Lt. Colonel Rodriguez and Lt. Colonel Harris were immediately given a quick medical exam to uncover any severe injuries masked by the adrenaline. At the conclusion of the medical exams, they were brought to the JSOC base commanding officer for a formal debriefing.

  Neither Rodriguez nor Harris was able to provide any immediately actionable information. Their captors kept them secluded. During the first few days of captivity, they were tortured and repeatedly moved from location to location. Neither of the men was able to recall many details from that time period. Their escape from the warehouse was equally as vague in their memory.

  The Joint Chiefs of Staff left the Situation Room. Susan stayed at the conference room table by herself until midnight, drafting a speech to the American people. Before going to bed, she directed Mason Adams to set up a press briefing for ten o’clock the following morning.

  30

  The next morning, Susan called Vice President Wilkes’s office to schedule a meeting prior to her final draft of the press briefing. Susan admired his communication style. The speeches he gave during his presidency were always clear, concise, impactful, and upbeat. Vice President Wilkes met Susan in the Cabinet Room at seven thirty. The table was already littered with coffee cups and previous drafts of the speech with handwritten notes scribbled in the margins. Susan sat at the conference room table surrounded by her staff and the speech writing team.

  Mason Adams was the first to notice Vice President Wilkes’s presence. “Vice President Wilkes, I’m glad you could make it on short notice. I hope we didn’t interrupt your schedule for the day.”

  Vice President Wilkes shook Mason’s hand and replied, “Things look a bit hectic. I take it you’re not running this meeting.”

  Mason smiled, but before he could answer, Susan stood up and yelled over the noise, “Vice President Wilkes. I’m so glad you could make it.” Susan walked over to greet Vice President Wilkes. “Do you mind taking a look at a draft of the press briefing?”

  “I’d love to. Anything specific you want me focus on?”

  “No, nothing specific but I’d really appreciate your general reaction. Take a seat anywhere, I’m almost done. Give me five minutes and I can talk. Mason, can you get him a copy of the latest draft?”

  Vice President Wilkes sat down in a chair against the wall away from the swirling mass of people in the room. Mason handed him two sheets of paper marked “Draft.” He read through the speech, slowly nodding his head in agreement with each section. He finished the last paragraph and Susan sat down in the chair next to him. “What do you think?”

  “I think the world is going to be glad to hear that the pilots are back home safe.”

  Susan took a deep breath. “Hmm… the world. I didn’t think about it that way. I try to forget that the entire world watches everything I do.” Susan paused and nodded her head while staring at the floor. “What did you think of the overall message?”

  “I thought it was good. The only thing that stood out to me was that you didn’t address the Soviet Union’s involvement in the incident. Was that on purpose?”

  “To the best of my knowledge, they didn’t play a part in the capture or detainment of our pilots. I didn’t see a reason to address the Soviet Union specifically. I wanted to focus on the importance of patience in these situations.”

  “Are you planning to take questions from the press?”

  “Yes, I want to be as open and honest about the situation as possible.”

  Vice President Wilkes nodded. “I’d do the same. I know you asked me for my opinion. I feel bad for not really giving any advice, but I think you’ve got it covered.”

  Susan smiled at Vice President Wilkes. “I’m just glad we’re on the same page. I’m sure you’ve got a busy day, I don’t want to hold you up any longer. Will you be at the briefing?”

  “I’ll be there. Good luck, you’ve got it under control.” Vice President Wilkes and Susan stood up and shook hands. Vice President Wilkes left the Cabinet Room and walked back to his office. Before sitting down at his desk, he put on his jacket and told the Secret Service detail he was going back home to retrieve a folder. In the White House, even the walls have ears and he needed privacy.

  Susan approved the final version of her press briefing at 9:00 a.m. She went back to the Oval Office to gather her thoughts before the 10:00 a.m. live broadcast. She couldn’t get Vice President Wilkes’s comment about the Soviet involvement out of her mind. She felt addressing the issue would only bring up more questions that she couldn’t answer. Susan didn’t know how much or how little the Soviet government knew about the pilot’s capture or holding location
. From her perspective, the Soviets may have been trying as hard as the United States to find the holding location, or they could have been orchestrating the entire event. It was impossible to know the truth.

  Mason Adams escorted General LeMae into the Oval Office. “Madam President, General LeMae is here without an appointment. He promised to be brief.”

  “Thank you, Mason. General LeMae is always welcome.”

  Mason Adams turned and quickly left the room.

  General LeMae walked toward Susan and pulled a small blue gift box out of his pocket. Susan furrowed her brow while examining the box. “Curtis, I know you’re vain… but I’m a couple of decades too young for you.”

  General LeMae sighed and rolled his eyes. “Razor… we both know you aren’t my type.” General LeMae smiled and gave her a firm pat on the shoulder like a football player. “Seriously… I know you don’t like presents, but you deserve this one. You earned it a long time ago.” General LeMae handed the box to Susan. She took the cover off the box and saw a military challenge coin. The face of the coin was engraved with her squadron’s insignia. Tears streamed down Susan’s cheeks. She leaned forward and hugged General LeMae.

  General LeMae explained, “I didn’t get the chance to give one to you when you were squadron commander. I always felt bad about it. But, you know… the timing never seemed right to give it to you.”

  Susan stepped back from General LeMae and wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “That’s not all. Look on the back.”

  Susan turned the coin over. The phrase Don’t let the green grass fool you was engraved on the back of the coin. Susan looked back up at General LeMae with a confused expression. She recognized the phrase from one of their running cadences in the army, but she didn’t understand the significance.

  “Do you remember our conversation back in Idaho? In your driveway… about the files?”

  Susan nodded. “Of course.”

  “If anything happens to me, you’ll find the files at my cabin. They’re hidden. That phrase will lead you to them. I know it doesn’t make sense now. And I hope it won’t ever make sense to you.” General LeMae shook Susan’s hand. “I’ll let you get ready for your speech. You did a good job—those pilots are alive because of you.”

  Susan walked to the podium in the Press Briefing Room filled with excitement and relief at exactly 10:00 a.m. She confidently walked up to the podium and let the whispers from the crowd die down before beginning. “I have great news to share. Lt. Colonel Rodriguez and Lt. Colonel Harris are free, safe, and healthy. They were rescued by a United States Army Special Forces team last night and are now resting safely inside in the Joint Special Operations Command base in Eastern Europe. They will be reuniting with their families in America as soon as we are able to get them fully debriefed.”

  Susan continued her speech, addressing the animosity building in America against the Soviet Union and especially against Soviet immigrants living in the United States. Susan ended the press briefing by highlighting the importance of patience and compassion in all areas of foreign relations. The press corps listened to the brief, then immediately began shouting questions at the end of Susan’s briefing. Susan pointed at the first reporter she saw from the podium.

  “Madam President, how were the pilots located? And why weren’t they located sooner?”

  “Great question, thank you for asking. I can’t get into the specifics but we were alerted to abnormal activity in the area where the pilots were being held. We launched a search-and-rescue mission based on that information. I’m sorry I can’t give any more details at this time. Most importantly, we were able to get Lt. Colonel Rodriguez and Lt. Colonel Harris home safe.”

  For the next few minutes, Susan answered more questions about circumstances of the rescue mission and the timing of the pilots’ return to the United States. Her staff prepared her well for the questions asked.

  Emily Bingham, a junior reporter in the press briefing, looked down at her vibrating cell phone. The message read, “Were there any previous rescue attempts? Ask now.” After two more questions, Emily was able to catch President Turner’s attention.

  “Madam President, were there any previous attempts to rescue the pilots?”

  The room, including Susan, froze in a stunned silence. The public was told the Black Hawk crash killing seven Americans near the Ukrainian border was a training mission and there was no mention to the public about previous rescue missions. Susan looked as shocked as the rest of the press corps in the room.

  “No, there were no previous rescue missions. Next question.”

  Susan answered questions for a few more minutes and left the press briefing on a high note. Being careful not to arouse any suspicion, Susan chatted eagerly with her staff on the way back to the Oval Office. Excitement and relief dominated the mood in the White House. Susan waited patiently until she was alone in the Oval Office before calling General LeMae.

  “Did you see the press briefing?”

  “I did, and I heard the question about a previous rescue mission. Where’d she get that question? I can guarantee it wasn’t from her own brain. Somebody tipped her off.”

  Susan ran her hands through her hair. “I don’t know who tipped her off and I don’t care. Now we’ve got a real problem, every news agency in the world is going to be looking into it. And it won’t be long until they begin focusing on the seven soldiers killed in a training accident near the Ukrainian border. The public has a short memory but it won’t be long until they come around to it. Then what are we going to do?”

  General LeMae attempted to ease her concern. “There’s no point in worrying about hypothetical situations. If more questions are asked, we’ll have plenty of time to strategize our answers. And there’s no proof that those soldiers died in anything other than a training accident. Everything you said during that press briefing is accurate, according to the public.”

  Susan took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m probably overthinking this. Sorry to bother you. Thanks for being the voice of reason.” Susan hung up the phone. She felt a hollow pit in her stomach.

  That evening, inside the Pacific International headquarters in Los Angeles, Mr. Anderson called his chief information officer into his office.

  “Yes, sir, what can I do for you?”

  “During the White House press briefing today by President Turner, a reporter asked if there were any previous attempts at rescuing the pilots. Look into it. See if you can find a story. Reach out to our Ukrainian office in Kiev and our office in Moscow—they should be able to help.”

  “I’m on it. Anything else?”

  “That’s all, but make sure our friends in the media know you’re looking into this story. I want the world focused on it by tomorrow morning. I think the story has legs.”

  Mr. Anderson walked to the window and looked down over the chaos that was Los Angeles. He poured himself a glass of Macallan eighteen-year-old single-malt scotch. Mr. Anderson rarely drank alcohol; he saved the pleasure of a good glass of scotch for special occasions. Tonight he celebrated a milestone in the Board’s plan for Unified Peace. Susan Turner was indeed the perfect president. She continued to walk the United States directly into a war with the Soviet Union. In the aftermath of a war between two of the world’s superpowers, the Board would be perfectly situated to implement a global leadership and take control.

  31

  Agent Sanders brushed the wrapper and crumbs from the top of her FBI Field Manual onto the passenger seat floorboard. She wiped the grease from her fingers. A flash of movement caught her eye. She saw Mason Adams walk down the steps of his front porch. Mason took a moment to scan the street before briskly walking away from Agent Sanders’s vehicle. She watched him walk to the corner and make a right toward Meridian Hill Park.

  Agent Sanders played this scenario through her mind over the past few weeks as she sat outside Mason’s house monitoring his activity. The park had very little lighting at night and would be the perfect loca
tion to meet someone in secret.

  She got out of her vehicle and quickly followed Mason. He entered the park and took the first path to the right. Agent Sanders stayed on the path but kept fifty yards behind Mason. She paused to catch her breath and watched Mason take a seat on a park bench. Agent Sanders slowly moved next to a clump of bushes and took a knee. She was positioned almost directly behind Mason Adams as he sat on the bench. Mason sat alone for two minutes. He fidgeted and continuously looked toward the trail to his left.

  Agent Sanders watched another man casually walk toward the bench and sit down next to Mason. The two men sat together for less than thirty seconds before Mason stood up and continued on the trail.

  Five days later, President Turner, Director Redmond, and Agent Sanders met in a conference room in the FBI headquarters.

  Director Redmond began the meeting. “Agent Sanders, please give the president an update on the case.”

  Agent Sanders looked at Susan and cleared her throat. “Madam President.” Then she looked down and read directly from her notes. “I observed Mason Adams meeting with Mr. Nick Lee in Meridian Park at 11:25 p.m. They sat on a bench together for thirty seconds. Mason Adams continued his walk. I was suspicious of the meeting and stopped Mr. Lee. I discovered that Mr. Lee was delivering a prescription to Mason Adams for Cannabidiol. Mr. Lee holds a valid license to distribute medical marijuana to patients— ”

  “Are you telling me Mason met a drug dealer in the middle of the night at a park by his house?”

  “No, Madam President. Mason is procuring medical marijuana for his mother who suffers from epilepsy. I did some research. Cannabidiol is an oil, and it doesn’t produce the same effects as smoking marijuana. There are several scientific studies proving its effectiveness for treatment of patients who have epilepsy.”