ALL ACTION THRILLER BOXSET: THREE MURRAY MCDONALD STANDALONE THRILLERS

by Murray Mcdonald

  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 the hell 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 other 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.

  Being the Fourth of July and a Saturday made no difference. All leave had been cancelled as the biggest news story since the twenty-four hour seven day news station had come into existence was playing out before them. The technician appeared within minutes, carrying a standalone laptop totally unconnected from any servers linked to the network. The laptop revealed nothing untoward and it appeared all the DVD contained was a video file. Just to be safe, the reporter requested to borrow the laptop just until he had viewed whatever it contained. A hardcore sex movie or worse was not something he was keen to have linked to his own business machine. The techie took the hint and left.

  The reporter hit play.

  The screen changed to a time stamped image of the ocean, the person holding the camera held up a newspaper to confirm it was the date that was showing at the bottom of the screen. The image panned from the newspaper across an expanse of ocean to an aircraft carrier. The image zoomed in on the number painted on its side and the flag on the ship. The numbers were easily visible as 063 and the flag clearly visible as the Russian flag.

  The reporter typed ‘063 aircraft carrier’ into his computer and the top hit was the Wikipedia page for an Admiral Kuznetsov. He really didn’t see the big deal. It wasn’t like the world didn’t know the Russians had an aircraft carrier. As the aircraft carrier passed by, the image swung around to three red and white checkered water towers. The image then bounced around for a few minutes before it settled on a street sign on a deserted and rather neglected street. The sign pointing to a small collection of outdoor shops clearly read Midway Mall.

  Armed with the information he had, it didn’t take long to discover that no Midway Mall like the one in the video existed, certainly not in the United States. It was only after considering the name a little further he entered Midway Islands into his search engine. The scenery certainly fit. A further search of water storage tanks revealed the three very recognizable tanks from the video.

  The time stamp showed twelve hours ago. He really didn’t get the relevance. The Midway islands were in the middle of the Pacific. Big deal. He set it to the side, just as almost every other network reporter who had received the same video had done. He had more pressing news to work on. The Russians had held a press conference to complain about the building of a secret runway on their islands. They had informed the world they were going to destroy it. Unfortunately and rather embarrassingly for them, poor weather had ruled out the bomber strike that they had planned for that morning. Having made such a big deal about the ecosystem and how fragile it was in the area, they had no option but to wait. Missiles would risk damaging the surrounding wildlife.

  He finished his piece to camera and considered the Midway footage again. He really didn’t see an angle or reason for it to be aired but sent a copy to the newsroom editor with a note about his findings. He’d let her decide. Little did he know, his research and the footage would start a war in less than two hours.

  Chapter 55

  Jack woke up before the alarm. In fact, he had been awake most of the night. His call with President Chernov with regard to the runway had niggled at him th
roughout the night. It didn’t make any sense; the arctic island they were talking about was barely a couple of hundred miles from a chain of Norwegian islands very similar in climate and structure. If they wanted a runway, they’d have just built one there.

  He had asked the National Reconnaissance Office to treat the area as a priority and a number of KH-11satellites had been redirected to gather as much information as they could. So far, they had uncovered the same as the Russians. The runway was well camouflaged but if you knew it was there, you could see at least part of it. As Ilya had stated, the US flag was in fact flying and to add to the problem, it looked as though it should have been camouflaged and the netting had been blown aside.

  He had left explicit orders that should they uncover anything further he was to be disturbed. He knew Ilya was on shaky ground in Russia. Covering up the B2 bombing of the Kremlin would have cost him significant political clout and certainly put him at loggerheads with his military. A blatant disregard for the sovereignty of her land was not something the Russians would take lying down. Jack needed an answer and quickly.

  Too distracted for the gym, he grabbed a sandwich for breakfast and made his way to the Situation Room. All was quiet. Updates were constantly streaming through on the screens. News footage continued to show the orderly lines forming at supermarkets and gas stations with the rather disconcerting sight of armored personnel vehicles watching over in between their almost constant coverage of the military build-up. As the news channel broke to ads, Jack noticed that the usual medical and fitness ads had been replaced by top named brands. Viewing figures drove ad spending. If the big boys were spending on the News Channels it was because America was watching them. An ad for the Trust, hugely patriotic and proud to tell the viewers just how much they were behind the military and America, ‘America’s Savior, America’s Future’, it proudly proclaimed as the ad finished and the screen gave way to the Trust’s favorite line. Jack had an urge to throw something at the screen but was interrupted from those thoughts by Kenneth.