The dogs went wild above them. They’d found their escape route.
Butler looked around. There was nowhere to hide apart from the blatantly obvious. He pushed Swanson up onto the nearest tank. A six-foot gap separated each tank.
“Okay, we just need to try and lose the dogs somehow, stay very close,” he ordered as he leapt across to the adjacent tank.
He leapt from one tank to another and kept leaping until he was across the aisle and to the next row of tanks and eventually looped back around to where he had started. He jumped over another two tanks and opened the hatch and, after ushering Swanson in, joined her.
“Keep very still and very quiet,” he said in a low whisper. The darkness inside the tank was as oppressive as the heat.
It took another five minutes before the sound of the dogs and men rushing around them began. The dogs’ barking grew louder and quieter as the dogs chased around the loop that they had laid down.
“Stop!” shouted Chan. “You’re going round in circles. They’ve laid down a track to lose the dogs. Every minute we waste, they’re getting further away.”
The barking and voices trailed off into the distance.
Butler placed a hand on Swanson, keeping her where she was, wordlessly telling her that they were staying there for some time yet. Swanson was no fool. She had also guessed that there was every chance the men outside were bluffing. Even if they weren’t, it was unlikely the area would be unguarded any more.
It was going to be a long, hot and very uncomfortable night.
Chapter 33
Everyone in the Situation Room stood still as the news flash hit the screen.
Russian president survives US attempt to assassinate him.
“What the hell do they think they’re doing?!” gasped Jack.
Kenneth grabbed a remote and hit the volume. They needed to hear the words being spoken and not just read the sensationalist headline.
“…and unconfirmed reports have suggested that the bombing of the Kremlin was a further retaliation by the US for the attacks earlier today. Our sources have confirmed that the crash of Flight 187 was not an accident but was in fact a deliberate attack by Russian forces. Flight 187 was carrying the new US ambassador to China, and James Marshall, a close personal friend of President King. The subsequent downing of two US F16s on the Polish border resulted in a retaliatory strike against a Russian weapons manufacturer by the US. US forces have continued to mobilize in what seems likely to be the most tense relations with Russia since the Cuban Missile Crisis...”
“Get me whatever fucking idiot is in charge of that news broadcast!” shouted Jack, unable to control his anger.
Before Kenneth could make the call, the newscaster stopped talking and listened to his earpiece. His demeanor changed to one of even greater concern.
What now?, thought Jack. Had they not done enough to panic the nation?
“I believe we are going to the Kremlin where an emergency press conference has been called,” announced the newscaster with great apprehension. It was clear he did not believe it was going to be good news.
The screen changed to an empty podium. The Russian presidential seal was prominently displayed on the front of it, while two Russian flags hung on the wall behind.
President Chernov strode purposefully towards the podium. The world was watching, and whatever he was about to say could affect every single person on the planet.
“Good morning,” he began in English, surprising everybody, none more so than the translator, who repeated what he had just said.
“I come to you to personally guarantee that the explosion this morning at the Kremlin was nothing more sinister than a gas leak. I have spoken with President King…”
Jack relaxed, his whole body having tightened at what could have been a declaration of war. Ilya, however, had kept to his word. There was still a chance they might manage to avoid war.
“I thought you said, you hadn’t spoken with him,” spat Kenneth.
Jack was about to apologize when he realized he had absolutely no reason to. He leaned forward. “I’m not liking your tone, Kenneth,” whispered Jack menacingly.
“But you said you hadn’t spoken--”
“I am under no obligation to inform anyone as to whom I speak with,” interrupted Jack, in no mood for debate. Jack’s gaze burned into Kenneth’s until eventually Kenneth looked away.
Jack continued to stare at his Chief of Staff. The anger and the vitriol with which he had spoken had surprised Jack. Jack was used to putting four-star generals with front line combat experience down with one look. He checked his watch, almost midnight. He turned to Kenneth but his focus, following his outburst, was on the papers in front of him. Jack shook his head slightly in wonder, before rising and announcing he was calling it a night.
Frank, his Secret Service bodyguard, awaited his exit from the Situation Room. Another six agents armed with MP-5 sub machine guns and wearing body armor were by his side. Jack raised his eyes to the ceiling. The emergency protocol had been invoked and security had been increased accordingly.
“Where are we going, Frank?” asked Jack as they walked through the residence towards the East Wing.
“The bunker,” he replied, matter-of-factly.
Jack stopped walking. His entourage responded accordingly.
“On whose instructions?”
“Protocol, sir. You’ll be sleeping in the bunker while the emergency--”
“Frank,” he interrupted. “I think we both know that ain’t happening. Gentlemen, my residence please.”
The six heavily armed agents looked at Frank for guidance. Ultimately, the safety of the president fell upon the Secret Service and their decision was final.
Frank relented. He knew Jack was never going to agree, and if he did, it was going to be under duress. President Jack King was a man that led from the front. He was never going to be sidelined in a bunker while the rest of America was in the firing line.
With the sleeping arrangements agreed upon, Jack retired to his bedroom. A quick detour into his private study confirmed his fears. He had lost his escape route to normality. The column remained stoically in place, even though he tried desperately to activate the unlocking mechanism that had worked earlier. Finally, he conceded it was a lost cause and retired to bed. After the day he had had, the least he could do was get some sleep in preparation for whatever was in store for the next day. He kissed the photo of his wife goodnight and prayed she would help him through whatever lay ahead. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be more of the same. His prayers would not fall on deaf ears, at least for the next day. It was shame he hadn’t prayed beyond then.
Chapter 34
The darkness was all encompassing. Eyes open or closed, it made absolutely no difference. Butler raised his wrist but failed to see the face of his watch despite its advertised glow in the dark capabilities. It was only when he felt for the watch that he realized it was in fact missing, another issue to resolve with Chan. His father had given him the watch many years earlier and it was one of the only mementoes he had of him.
“Any idea how long we’ve been here?” he asked the blackness in front of him.
“Not a clue, can’t see a fucking thing in here,” came the wonderfully succinct response from Swanson, agitation clear in her voice.
“Can you hear anyone?”
“No, should we go?” she asked hopefully, the sweat pouring from every part of her body as the heat and humidity began to take its toll.
“I’d feel better if we had some firepower,” Butler replied.
We’re in a tank, that’s one thing we’ve got plenty of!” joked Swanson, knowing Butler had meant something slightly less cumbersome.
***
With only ten men at his disposal, Chan had to make some choices. Whatever choice he made, Butler could not get to the authorities. The only risk for such a situation was that they had escaped the storage area and somehow fooled the dogs. Fooling the dogs was possible. They certainly ha
d managed to create a confusing trail that had achieved exactly that. He looked over the vast expanse of machinery. There was every chance they were still there but the risk wasn’t if they were, the risk was that they weren’t. The storage facility offered no outlet to the outside world. If they were there, they could find them later. In the meantime, he needed to make sure they hadn’t gotten out.
“You two,” he pointed to two of his men, “up there,” he ordered motioning onto the hill. “And shoot anything that moves,” he said, leading the rest of the team out of the storage area.
Chan grabbed his cell as they marched out. He would have two hundred men there within the hour. They could then systematically sweep the storage area. Meanwhile, he needed to check they hadn’t got out.
***
Butler switched on the flashlight and lit up the cabin space. The light offered a welcome relief to the total blackness but didn’t really help him understand what they were up against. They were in a sealed unit with no view of the outside world without popping the hatch. The extent of his knowledge of tanks was limited to World War Two or Vietnam-era movies and therefore the complex array of screens, joysticks and buttons before him meant little. He looked down at Swanson seated just in front and below him, a far less complex joystick and screen sat before her.
Swanson looked as confused by the controls as he did.
Ideally, they would have fired up the engine and driven the tank out, but without a can opener big enough to move another hundred or so tanks between them and the exit, that wasn’t an option.
Butler looked more closely at the controls and realized some made sense to him. He hit one button and the cabin lit up on its power. Another had the screens bursting to life. A green image of the world outside clearly showing the view ahead. A bank of buttons changed the view from one camera to another, a 360 degree view. A small joystick allowed him to move each camera even more, zooming in and out wherever he wanted. Two men came into view standing on the hillside, their attention focused on the storage area, looking for a hint of any movement.
Swanson watched Butler play with the buttons and joysticks and decided to try her own screen and joystick.
“No!” Butler tried to stop her as she moved towards her joystick but it was too late, the turret of the tank turned clockwise when she pressed her joystick to the left. The image on her screen changed the cross hairs now aiming at the tank to their right rather than the one in front.
With the two men already moving, Butler had little time to think. He grabbed the main joystick and turned the crosshairs on his screen towards the two men rushing forward. He depressed the trigger and a torrent of bullets ripped through the peace and quiet of the night, ending the two men’s lives and any chance of Butler and Swanson escaping quietly, or probably at all.
“Shit! Sorry!” pleaded Swanson.
Butler wasn’t interested in apologies. He already had the hatch open and was half way out. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”
Before Swanson could argue, Butler was already out and running towards the bodies. Swanson followed as quickly as she could.
“What the hell are you doing?” huffed Swanson, grabbing the assault rifle that Butler had thrown her but Butler was already running towards the netting where they had entered earlier and was struggling to hold it aloft to let Swanson through.
Swanson had little option but to follow his lead. She hit the ground and began crawling once again under the heavy netting. As before, she offered Butler some help and the two collapsed once again on the hill, only on the outside this time.
“Care to explain?” asked Swanson, gulping lungs full of oxygen.
“Not yet,” he replied, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet, racing up the hill back towards their jailhouse where their evening had begun.
***
The sound of the .50 caliber machine-gun echoed across the landscape. Its lack of subtlety told Chan what he had known deep down all along. Butler had hidden in the storage area. He radioed the two men he had left in situ and it was no surprise that there was no response. With only eight men and light weapons versus the heavy weaponry at Butler’s disposal, Chan had some decisions to make. Head straight back into the storage area or wait for the two hundred men that were en route. Whatever the case, he had to get back to the storage area and ensure Butler didn’t get away. He whistled, circling his finger above his head. His men responded instantly and ran back to the vast storage facility.
The massive bowl that held the hidden storage area funneled out into a valley that stretched off into the surrounding wooded hillside of Maryland. The natural valley had been reengineered with a solid concrete floor. A natural green coloring had ensured that from above it looked as it always had. Chan was secretly relieved at the machine-gun incident. The surrounding hillsides and woods would have offered Butler and his sidekick innumerable opportunities to evade them. At least now he knew where they were.
They approached the entrance, and the low rumble of a convoy of trucks joined the silence of the moonlit night. His backup was about to arrive.
***
As the noise of the trucks reached them, Butler was pulling Swanson to the summit of the small hill. The squeal of brakes biting and hundreds of men’s boots hitting the ground echoed across the hillside. Butler’s worst fears had been realized. He couldn’t see them as the angle they had was too narrow to see over the netting but it sounded like a hell of a lot of men. But then, he had seen the amount of equipment in the area below. None of that moved without a few thousand troops to assist.
He threw Swanson to the ground and they both crawled once again on their stomachs to the summit. Their one saving grace was that if they couldn’t see their pursuers, their pursuers couldn’t see them.
As they rolled over the summit and out of sight of those below, he jumped to his feet. “Run!” he ordered and raced down the other side towards the jailhouse.
Having heard the hundreds of men arrive, Swanson did not need to be asked twice and for once, was more than capable of keeping up with Butler. He ran around the building and straight for one of the jeeps that had been left by their pursuers. The first had no key, nor did the second. He approached the third having almost given up. They obviously had a policy of not leaving keys in their vehicles. He opened the door and the keys hung perfectly from the ignition. The added satisfaction of an ID card on the dashboard showing Chan’s face was a welcome bonus.
“So what’s the plan?” asked Swanson, jumping into the passenger seat.
“Drive as fast as we can and pray they don’t catch us!” he said, turning the key and hitting the gas.
Chapter 35
Thursday July 2nd 2015
Washington D.C.
For the first time in his life, Jack could have kissed the alarm as it woke him from a deep and peaceful sleep. That single fact meant that for six hours the world had not needed him and nothing had happened to warrant his awakening. Russia had not declared war, and whoever was trying their damnedest to upset world security had not succeeded. After a quick twenty minutes in the gym, he hit the shower. Ten minutes later, he was dressed and sitting down to a hearty breakfast. He had no illusions - it was going to be a tough day, and if the previous day was anything to go by, a very long one.
A knock on the door preceded Kenneth’s entrance. The president’s calendar was in his hand but Kenneth set that to one side. Jack turned from the television set that was placed in the corner of the dining room and waited for whatever Kenneth was going to hit him with.
“Mr. President, may I first please apologize for my outburst last night?” he implored.
Jack waved it away as though it were nothing, which was exactly how he viewed it.
“I’m so sorry, my nerves and the situation got on top of me. I assure you I will serve you better moving forward.”
To be honest, Jack had forgotten about the whole affair almost as soon as it had happened. Had Kenneth not looked so sincere and pitiful, Jack wo
uld have laughed.
“Did you sleep last night?” he asked, noticing just how disheveled Kenneth looked.
“Not much,” said Kenneth.
“Not any by the looks of it,” replied Jack, concerned for his right hand man. “You weren’t really worried about your outburst, were you?”
Kenneth shrugged, not actually able to say yes.
“It was a stressful day, Kenneth, today is a new one. So what have we got today?”
Kenneth smiled for the first time since entering the room. Jack was a little taken aback at just how affected Kenneth had been. Kenneth was a rock. He was one of the hardest men Jack had ever met. Nothing fazed him, certainly not in the political world. His tongue was legendary and more than made up for a lack of physical stature. And as for balls, he had the biggest set of cojones Jack had ever witnessed. Kenneth thought nothing of standing toe to toe with a man twice his size.
“We’re pretty much clear for the day. Emergency protocol has cleared your diary of all non-emergency meetings. We pretty much have back-to-back security updates and briefings,” replied Kenneth looking down the list of engagements.
“I need to address the nation,” said Jack. “And quickly,” he added, as the images of panic-buying were the news channels’ main headline of the day.
“I’ll schedule an address for midday, will that be acceptable?”
Jack watched the queues lining the blocks around the nation. “No, I want to do it now, first thing. Everything else can wait.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“In fact, wait, I’ll speak to the governors first. Get me a teleconference with them all. I want them all to hear the same thing, and include the D.C. mayor. Then I’ll talk to the nation.”
“Of course Mr. President, give me an hour.”
“You’ve got ten minutes Kenneth. I want to be addressing the nation in twenty,” Jack countered. He knew that was unrealistic but the point was made, it was to happen straightaway.
ALL ACTION THRILLER BOXSET: THREE MURRAY MCDONALD STANDALONE THRILLERS Page 17
