Rigged

by James Rosone

  With all color completely drained from his face, Joe asked, “How long do they have?”

  Grimacing, Dr. Morris replied, “Forty-eight to seventy-two hours at best. But frankly, the next couple of days are going to be rough. Their internal organs are going to start failing really soon. It’s going to be a rapid decline once that starts to take place.”

  Joe ran his fingers nervously through his hair. “Dr. Morris, I don’t have to tell you how important this announcement is going to be or how this is going to impact the country. What I need you to do right now is work with my agents here to make sure this information stays contained, at least for the rest of the day. I need to brief the Director, and obviously the AG is going to want to say something and possibly the President. Can you help me keep this under wraps long enough to allow the leaders of our country to respond? For all we know, other members of the government could have been targeted by this attack.”

  Dr. Morris suddenly looked very concerned at that prospect. He nodded solemnly and then led the other agents back to the wing of the hospital where they had the justices sequestered. The agents then spoke with the medical staff to make sure they all knew the urgency of keeping the situation quiet for the time being.

  *******

  Attorney General Malcolm Wright thought he was going to be sick when FBI Deputy Director Joe Latrell finished briefing him and FBI Director Nolan Polanski.

  The Solicitor General asked the obvious question. “If the justices are sick—no, let me rephrase that, if all of the Supreme Court justices are dying, and thus unable to hear this case—how are we going to get this resolved before the election? We only have two days to get this sorted out before Tuesday.”

  Director Polanski shot him a dirty look. “You have to be kidding me,” he retorted. “You’re worried about them ruling on your EO case? This could be the first stage of a major attack against our government.”

  The Solicitor General snapped, “Protecting the country and finding out who did this attack is your lane. I’m trying to make sure a fraudulent election isn’t held on Tuesday, creating a constitutional crisis.”

  Joe held his hand up. “Please, gentlemen. None of us are the enemy. Clearly, someone thought this entire thing out. Someone or some group knew that if we found out about this conspiracy to steal the election, the President would issue some sort of executive order and that EO would be challenged in court, resulting in us having to take it to the Supreme Court. Whoever is behind this conspiracy anticipated our moves and preempted us by poisoning the justices before they could issue a ruling.”

  Malcolm sighed. “This clearly falls in your lane,” he said, motioning to Joe and Director Polanski. “Who could have carried out this kind of attack? Who has that kind of capability, and are we in danger ourselves? What about the President or the members of Congress?”

  The two FBI men looked at each other before returning the AG’s eye contact. “I can’t say for certain that no one else in the government is in immediate danger,” Director Polanski admitted. “My advice is that we alert the Capitol Police and the Secret Service of the possibility of polonium poisoning. As to who could carry out this type of attack—well, there are only a couple of nations who have this kind of capability. The prime suspects, however, would have to be Russia and China. In the case of Russia, we know they’ve carried out this exact type of attack before; they’ve also carried out assassinations of dissidents in the UK.

  “The Chinese are also capable of carrying out this kind of attack. That said, they have no history of targeted assassinations abroad. However, they certainly do have an axe to grind against President Sachs. He’s caused them immense economic harm with the trade tariffs, so I wouldn’t want to totally rule the Chinese out.”

  Malcolm sighed. “OK, Nolan, here’s what I want you to do. Collect as much evidence as you can about this attack. Put together as much information as you can about who could have carried out this attack and how. I also need you to finish the evidentiary case against Mr. Wang and the Ministry of State Security now. I’m going to recommend the President call an emergency meeting with the leaders of the House and Senate to present this information to them.

  “It’s obvious we’re not going to be able to rely on the Supreme Court to decide on the constitutionality of the EO. The only other course of action is for us to lay out the case to the Speaker of the House and convince her to agree to postpone the election until January fourth. I also need you to compile whatever you guys have on the election day terrorist attacks. If we still don’t have any leads, you guys need to let them know. They need to make a decision about what they’re going to do, and soon. The country is headed to a constitutional crisis if we don’t get this situation solved.”

  Chapter 16

  Race Against Time

  Kosovo

  Camp Bondsteel

  Lieutenant Colonel Seth Mitchell was exhausted. His back had been spasming on him, and he still felt sore from the IED attack that had nearly killed him several days ago. He started thinking about the sensation of the vehicle rolling over and over, feeling weightless for just a moment.

  He thought about Master Sergeant Nance and the embassy’s RSO—fortunately, both had survived. They were a bit banged up and worse for the wear, but they’d pull through. Both men had been flown back to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany before being sent back to the US.

  “Hey, come back to reality,” said General Lancaster as he snapped his fingers a couple of times in front of Seth.

  Letting a yawn slip past his control, Seth stood up and stretched his body, forcing a couple of loud pops and cracks.

  “I need some coffee and a Flexeril for my back,” Seth replied. He walked over to the back of the ops center. He reached for a heated plate which had a fresh pot of coffee sitting on it, and another one already brewing. He poured some of the Death Wish brand coffee into one of the mugs, then swiftly lifted the black liquid to his lips and took a couple of gulps.

  He walked back over to Lancaster, coffee in hand. “Any word yet on where Tahir Shicri is or if his body was in the building we leveled?” Seth asked.

  Lancaster looked frustrated at the question. He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. We don’t have any DNA to compare against the bodies from the safe house we blew up. The Agency insists he’s still alive—they said they had a SIGINT hit a few hours ago that matched his voice.”

  Just then, one of the sergeants who’d been working with the NSA on tracking down the last terrorist leader jumped out of his seat. “We found him!” he shouted.

  “Whoa, soldier,” said Chief Moore. “Calm down and show us what you found.”

  The sergeant pointed to the computer monitor. “Right here. One of the Reaper drones just intercepted a phone call with a voiceprint matched to Shicri.”

  “Did we get a copy of the call?” asked Seth. “What did he say and who was he talking to?”

  “They’re still tracking down whoever was on the other end. It was just a quick twenty-second call, but it originated in this village here. The NSA is still pinging the phone from the Reaper. It appears the phone must be moving on foot as it’s moving slowly and through some rough terrain.”

  “Holy cow, those NSA boys are good,” said General Lancaster. He reached for the phone that would link him back to the SOCOM ops center at MacDill.

  A few minutes went by as Lancaster brought his boss up to speed and worked on getting permission to go capture Shicri.

  While he was on the phone, one of the soldiers that was listening in remarked, “Shouldn’t we just hit him with a Hellfire from the Reaper?”

  Chief Moore shot him a disapproving look. “Sure, if we don’t want to find out what they’re going to attack on election day or who all is involved in the attack. Maybe it doesn’t matter to you who’s funding them or providing them with the weapons or explosives, huh?”

  The soldier’s face turned red as he realized just how stupid his comment had been. He went back to manning the
weapon system on the Reaper without another word.

  General Lancaster finished his call. “We’re a go,” he announced. “Get the unit spun up. I want them ready to roll in the next hour!”

  A flurry of activity began as Lieutenant Colonel Patrick “Paddy” Maine from JSOC got his guys ready to launch.

  General Lancaster looked at Moore. “Chief, I need your group to start working up the targeted area. Figure out what’s there. See if our Serbian LNO has any information he can offer us,” he ordered.

  Then the general turned to Seth. “I need you to get with Smith and his ORA guys. We need to have a game plan ready for when we capture this joker. We don’t have much time to get what we need from him. We’re down to less than three days from when the next terrorist attack is supposed to happen.”

  Seth nodded. No pressure or anything, he thought.

  Seth headed out the door to walk over to where Smith and his group were working. They still had their three key prisoners under wraps. Between Smith and an interrogation group from DEVGRU and the Unit, they’d been questioning these guys nearly nonstop since their capture.

  As Seth walked into the main room of the small detention facility, he immediately spotted Smith on the phone with someone. Smith made eye contact with Seth and waved for him to come over. Seth took a seat next to his colleague and waited for him to finish his call.

  When Smith hung up, he shot Seth a serious look. “Things are starting to go to hell in a hand basket back home, my friend,” he said.

  Seth’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

  “I mean, things are starting to spiral out of control faster than we can stop them.”

  “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific,” Seth responded.

  Sighing, Smith leaned in so the others around them couldn’t hear. “I just got done talking with my boss—”

  Seth interrupted, “Who exactly is your boss?”

  Smith waved the question off. “That’s not important. What he told me hasn’t been made public yet, but someone poisoned the Supreme Court justices.”

  With a look of surprise, Seth asked, “Which one?”

  Smith shook his head. “No, you misheard me. It wasn’t one of them—it was all of them. The FBI is trying to figure out when it happened or if there are others in the government being targeted. It appears they were poisoned with polonium-210.”

  Seth sat there in a state of shock at the news before replying. “Wow. How the hell could that have happened?”

  The two of them sat there for a moment, not saying anything. Smith finally broke the silence. “No one knows the details yet, but this isn’t good. Have you been following anything with the election?”

  Seth shook his head. “I’ve been too busy, and frankly, I usually just try to ignore politics.”

  “Well, you might want to start paying a little more attention right now. Apparently, our Chinese national who’s been spilling his guts has been involved in a much bigger conspiracy than we originally thought. You did hear about all those postal workers being arrested for tampering with election ballots, right?”

  Seth was starting to feel like an idiot living under a rock. He hadn’t heard anything about what was going on back home. He’d been so focused on what was happening here, right in front of them, he’d blocked everything else out.

  Seth held up his hands in mock surrender. “OK, Smith, you caught me. I’ve been a little preoccupied with these dirtbags we’ve been chatting up. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Smith shook his head disapprovingly. “Seth…you need to do better than that, my friend. You can’t stay living in the dark. Everything we’ve been uncovering here has been getting actioned back home. It’s created quite the uproar and circus. Heck, the President even tried to postpone the election until the terrorist threat had been successfully averted. He even went so far as to void all the absentee and mail-in ballots once it was discovered the Chinese Ministry of State Security was involved in stealing them.”

  Seth just sat there, stunned at what Smith had just told him. He’d had no idea things were falling apart like this back home. Come to think of it, he hadn’t called to talk to his wife in two days. She was probably worried sick about him.

  I need to call Dana later today when things slow down, he resolved.

  Then Seth snapped himself back to the task at hand. “Smith, not to ignore what you just told me, but the reason I came over here was because the boss wants me to find out what the plan is for when we catch Shicri.”

  Looking surprised, Smith asked, “Did we find him?”

  Now it was Seth’s turn to be the guy in the know. “Yeah, the NSA just located him. The general’s spinning up the unit to go after him right now. We may have him in custody in a few hours. So, what’s the plan? How are we going to get what we need from him?” he asked.

  “I think it’s pretty simple, Seth. We keep using what’s been working. You got some good information from the last couple of guys with your bag of pharmaceutical tricks. I say we keep going with that.”

  “Did you bring ‘The Eye’ with you?” asked Seth.

  Smith smirked. “Yeah, of course I did. You really think you’ll have time to do that kind of interrogation? Why not just stick to the drugs? They work faster for what we’re doing.”

  “I don’t know. It’s an extra tool,” Seth responded. “Just make sure you have it out, so I can find it when the time comes. I think I’d like to try that thing first before I go back to using the fire drug.”

  “No worries,” Smith said. “I’ll have a solid packet of information for you on Shicri in a few hours if your snake eaters catch him. I’ve had my guys busy tracking everything down and then some.”

  Seth nodded, then left the detention facility to head back toward the dining facility to grab some breakfast. He did a calculation of the time zones. It was late in Florida, but he knew Dana would rather be woken up than not to hear from him. He dialed his wife’s number.

  “Seth, is that you?” asked Dana groggily.

  God, it’s so good to hear her voice right now, he thought.

  “Yeah, it’s me, baby. How are you and the kids?”

  “We’re doing OK. How are you? Are you coming home soon?” she asked.

  “Not right now, honey. Things are too hot here,” he said, his voice betraying some of the sadness he felt. “Honestly, things were so busy, I hadn’t even heard about the ballots that were stolen, or the election being postponed or anything. I guess I need to call more often. You always did keep me up to date on the important things in the news.”

  “Aw, babe. Yeah, it’s really crazy here,” Dana replied. “At least they stopped those terrorist attacks on Halloween. I know you’re doing things that are really important and making a difference right now, but the selfish side of me just wishes you were here.”

  She sighed. “Eric has been having nightmares like every other night. Half of the time, I just end up letting him sleep in the bed with me. Lily keeps trying to get me to drive her to school, but this time it’s because she keeps telling me that a terrorist is more likely to target a school bus than a car. They’re growing up too fast. The world is scary.”

  “Dana, I’m so sorry you have to handle all that,” Seth replied. “I’ll have to call when it’s a better time of day to talk to them. Maybe I can help reassure them for you.”

  “That would be great, honey. If you could, it would really help.” She paused. “Listen…as much as I want to talk to you more, I’m just so tired right now. It’s been a lot of late-night conversations lately. Is there any chance we could talk more after I’ve had a chance to sleep?”

  “Yeah, of course. Rest up, darlin’. I’ll keep doing what I can on this end to stop all this madness. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she replied. “Come home to me safely.”

  *******

  Linca, Serbia

  10 Kilometers Northwest of Presevo

  Cool air whipped th
rough the open cabin on the Blackhawk, but the six Delta Force operators remained laser-focused as they prepared themselves for an incredibly dangerous daytime extraction of a high-value target.

  Following the lead Blackhawk were two more of the flying chariots, carrying sixteen Army Rangers who’d provide the ground security of the area once the Delta operators landed to carry out the hit. They’d cover the extraction and make sure no unforeseen forces showed up to interfere in this high-stakes capture.

  Flying slightly above the troop-carrying helicopters was a pair of Apache gunships. Like a pair of sheepdogs, they’d make sure no unwanted advances were made toward the soldiers below.

  Further above the formation, loitered a lone Reaper drone, armed with four Hellfire missiles, ready to provide additional ground support should it be needed.

  With less than forty-eight hours until the next terrorist attack and the US elections, the DoD was under immense pressure to find and subsequently capture the terrorist leader whose members were even now positioning themselves to carry out their next attack.

  *******

  Master Sergeant Bruce “Deuce” Wilder did a final check of his harness and weapon as the Blackhawk sped toward the Serbian border. Looking at the faces of the other operators, he saw they were ready for some payback. The last raid to capture this HVI had resulted in a handful of SEALs getting injured and killed, not to mention the loss of two helicopters. He’d eluded capture once, but he wasn’t going to pull it off a second time.

  Sergeant First Class Larry Flint, who just went by Larry rather than some call sign, was going to assault the front of the building with him, along with Sergeant First Class Pedro “Spider” Santos, their breacher. He’d be responsible for blowing the front door down, gaining them entrance into the building. The other three operators that would leave the helicopter via the other door would move quickly to the rear of the building and breach from there, ensuring no one was able to escape out the back entrance. If things went according to plan, they’d be in the building and clear it in less than three minutes.