The Girl in the White House

by Nick Harlow

  “No, I suppose not. He just about blows a gasket anytime I mention her. Whenever I want to push his buttons, I bring up his daughter and threaten to take her out. You can almost see his blood pressure going up.”

  “Yes, that was anticipated. But expected, as she’s all that he has left as far as family is concerned.”

  “I can’t wait to break the news to him that she’s gone.”

  “I wouldn’t do that just yet. You’ve got more leverage on him if he thinks she’s alive and you never know if we might need him for something else. Just make sure there aren’t any more surprises.”

  “Like I said, that possibility is being taken care of and we won’t have to worry about Ryan any longer. As to the bottom line, I trust you’re happy with the developments overseas.”

  The Speaker nodded as he continued to watch television. “Yes. Things seem to be moving along. I’m going to hold a news conference shortly.”

  “By the way, with two less members of the team, you will need to divide their shares accordingly.”

  “Don’t worry, their funds will be evenly distributed to the rest of your team. I have to go. And from now on, when I call, answer the damn phone.” A sinister grin crept across his face as he hung up and turned to his aide. “I’m beginning to wonder if Mayfair was the right person for this.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s already lost two members of his team, and they’ve been attacked from that bunker in the basement, probably by Ryan. And Mayfair’s got an attitude.”

  “Yeah, but the troops are withdrawing and the President looks like a wimp. And when he finds out his daughter is dead, he’ll be a shuddering lump of flash. As for Mayfair, he and his team won’t be a problem in a very short time. What difference does it make if they die in the White House or over the Atlantic? As long as no one gets captured in the White House.”

  “Yes, that would be a major disaster. There can’t be a single link back to me. Anyway, let’s go do this news conference. Need to show the country who’s really in charge right now.”

  “And may I say, Mister Speaker, it’s long overdue.”

  “Funny, I thought I’d have to win an election to become President. Amazing how easy it is to simply take the job.”

  GLADYS COULDN’T BELIEVE what she had just heard as she leaned toward Donovan and lowered her voice to a whisper. “You gotta be kidding. There’s actually a trap door under your desk in the Oval Office? I thought that was an urban legend from the supermarket tabloids.”

  President Donovan nodded, keeping an eye on the agent with the gun at the other end of the long room. “That’s what we wanted the public to believe. You have to admit, it does sound ridiculous. They started construction on it a few years ago. To be honest, I forgot about it after it got delayed when they ran into some of the building’s old pipes and had to re-do the plans. They were going to have to re-route the water in the building and that was going to be a major undertaking. I’m not even sure how close it is to completion. But obviously it’s not done or I’d have been told.”

  “When’s the last time you looked at it?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe a year ago. Not much had changed.”

  “You think Mayfair knows about it?”

  “Not sure. Ryan knows about it, if he’s still alive. He was the one who showed me how it would work. It would connect directly to the bunker. But he might have forgotten about it as well.”

  “How about Sydney, does she know?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. She thought it was cool when they started it. Then again, we don’t know her status either.”

  “She’s fine, Mister President. Trust me.”

  “I sure hope you’re right and she stays that way. But you know my daughter... if there’s something she can do to help in a situation like this, you know damn well she’s not sitting down there waiting to be rescued.”

  “They don’t call her Spitfire for nothing.”

  “Gladys, I know I don’t say this enough, but I really appreciate how you stepped in when...”

  She reached over and patted his hand. “No one can replace her mother, Mister President.”

  “But you’ve been the adult in the room when I’m gone.”

  “Sydney doesn’t really need one anymore. She’s already grown up. And more adult than most people twice her age.”

  “True. I just hope she’s mature enough to know she needs to stay put down there.”

  SYDNEY LED SCOTT DOWN a long hallway lined with a few black metal file cabinets. “The Secret Service command post is down here. Well, actually, above where we are right now, near the Oval Office. They were supposed to connect it to the bunker as well but I don’t think they started construction on that part.”

  “And you say this trap door leads to the command post? Which is then supposed to be connected to the bunker?”

  “No, the trap door was supposed to be connected directly to the bunker because the command post is only in the basement and in the event of a nuclear attack the President needs to be a lot farther down. They wanted a straight shot to the bunker that he could access quickly. My dad showed it to me a while back when they started construction on it. I completely forgot about it until Ryan jogged my memory. But I don’t think they ever finished building it because he would have shared it with me. You know, in case I was in the Oval Office when someone was about to nuke us and I had to get to the bunker.”

  “Pretty cool. A trap door for the President. Too bad he didn’t have one in front of his desk to send my father to hell.”

  “Not a bad idea. When all this is over I’ll put it in the suggestion box.” She arrived at a steel door at the end of the hall. “Okay, this was supposed to be the other end of the passage from the trap door.” Her muscles strained as she started to open the door. She was surprised at how heavy it was. “Damn, it weighs a ton. Give me a hand.” Scott moved next to her and pulled. “It’s obviously made of the lead shielding like the rest of the bunker.” They finally got it open. Sydney entered, flipped on a light, and found herself looking at a construction site. Tools on the floor, cans of paint, sheets of drywall, two-by-fours leaning against a wall, steel beams, scraps of wood and metal everywhere. A lot of dust. Obviously nothing had been done in a long time.

  And a large hole in the ceiling revealing heating ducts, pipes and wiring.

  Way, way up.

  But no stairs. Or ladder.

  Scott looked up. “Well, Martha Stewart hasn’t been here, but looks like that’s where the connection was going. That’s a long way up. And a long way from being completed. So that’s the location of the trap door?”

  “Right. The desk is right above it. I remember my dad showing me. He lifted up the trap door but all you could see is exactly what we’re looking at.” She pointed up. “See all the pipes and wires in the way? They were supposed to re-design the project to get around that or move that stuff out of the way. But for our purposes there’s obviously no way to get up there. If only we had a really tall ladder.”

  “I don’t think they make one that tall. They were probably going to build stairs, or some sort of lift mechanism. I realize there’s no way for us to get up there, but what worries me is that all Mayfair would need is a rope to get down. If he could wriggle his body past all that stuff in the way, he could be here in a minute.”

  “Yeah, he definitely has the advantage here.”

  “You think he knows about this? Was it common knowledge among the Secret Service?”

  “Not sure if he was here when they started it, or how many agents know about it. But just in case, we need to secure this access. Maybe get our geek squad to rig up a booby trap or at least some sort of alarm that would alert us if Mayfair’s people try to come down here.”

  “Good idea, but I’d rather find a way up. Then we could get everyone out.”

  “Unless you can find a trampoline down here, I think that’s out of the question. Besides, there’s no way we could get Ryan out. I seriously doubt he’ll
be going anywhere for a while.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. We can’t risk moving him in his condition. He’s down here for the duration.”

  The voice from behind interrupted them. “Whoa, this is seriously cool.”

  They turned to find Kyle looking up. “Yeah,” said Sydney. “Cool, but unfortunately very inaccessible.”

  “So the White House trap door story is actually true. Who knew?”

  “Yep. So is the Marilyn Monroe tunnel.”

  Scott furrowed his brow. “What’s the Marilyn Monroe tunnel?”

  “The way they used to sneak her in to see JFK. Or Bobby. Or, knowing how the Kennedys operated when it came to women back then, maybe both. There are all sorts of secret things about this building. But right now I’d love to find a way to get to Marilyn’s tunnel. Unfortunately there are no more secrets about the bunker. The elevator is the only access. Along with that hole in the ceiling.”

  Kyle kept looking up and started to scratch his chin. “You know, we might actually be able to use this.”

  Scott shook his head. “No way to get up there, Kyle.”

  “Not what I’m thinking. We don’t have to get up there. But that’s not saying we can’t get something useful up there.”

  “What, some of our tear gas? I’m not sure that would work and no one is in the Oval Office. They’re in the room next to it.”

  “Not what I had in mind.”

  “Then what?”

  Kyle’s eyes lit up as he kept staring at the ceiling but he didn’t answer Scott. “I need Vince’s help on this. And some of that so-called junk we’ve got piled up on the floor in the other room.”

  Sydney turned to him. “I don’t think all the stuff we had in our purses and pockets will help you make a ladder.”

  “I don’t need a ladder and wouldn’t be able to make one with what we’ve got. I need to make a slingshot.”

  MAYFAIR LOOKED AT HIS watch and smiled. “Our nurse should be all done with her assignment by now. And hopefully that will be the end to our problems in this building once and for all. I’ve had just about enough of Agent Ryan and Sydney Donovan.” He pulled the two-way radio from his pocket. “Nurse Helms, come in. It’s time to bring the one necessary hostage upstairs.”

  No answer.

  “Helms, come in.”

  “Oh, are you looking for Nurse Ratched? Sorry, but she seems to have developed a serious medical condition. Honestly, I don’t think she’ll recover from the hole in her chest. By any chance, would you happen to know if she was an organ donor? Hate to let all those usable parts go to waste.”

  Mayfair’s jaw tightened and he spit out her name. “Sydney Donovan.” He keyed the microphone. “Well, I see the President’s daughter hasn’t lost her penchant for witticisms.”

  “Attempts on my life bring out the sarcasm like you wouldn’t believe. And now you have shown that you can’t be trusted, Mayfair. Scott Rusch made a deal and you didn’t hold up your part of the bargain by sending your assassin down here to kill us all. Too bad for you we saw that one coming from a mile away. So what’s the running total now... you’re down three members of your team, plus Brooks is our prisoner, which makes four. At this rate you’ll be out of bad guys by dinnertime. You’re losing by attrition.”

  “I still have your father.”

  “And you still don’t have your ticket out of this situation. You might kill everyone upstairs including my father, but without an insurance policy named Scott Rusch you’re a dead man as well. Since you can’t get down here to get him, you can’t get out of the country alive. And you certainly can’t survive staying in the United States. Looks like a no-win situation, Mayfair. You’re the one who’s trapped, not me. Hell, I’ve got twenty years’ worth of food down here. I’m in no hurry at all.”

  He exhaled and shook his head. “Fine, you’ve made your point. What do you want?”

  “Release some of the hostages as a show of good faith, and then maybe we can try making a deal again.”

  “I’m not allowed to do that.”

  “You’re not allowed? Oh, please, are you kidding me? What, you’re still taking orders from the guy who’s planning to kill you? Wake up and smell the coffee, Mayfair, The Speaker of the House doesn’t want you alive, so why the hell are you still listening to him? Don’t you realize you’re being used and he had no intention of letting you survive? But as long as his son is in play, the ball is in your court as far as the Speaker is concerned. Do what you want so you can get your money and get out of here alive. So what if the Speaker is upset if you break from the game plan and let some people go? What’s he going to do, kill you twice? You’d still have your human boarding pass and a very valuable hostage you can sell. Honestly, Mayfair, I thought you had more street smarts than that. Guess that’s why you’re never the agent in charge of a detail.”

  Mayfair’s neck muscles tensed, the thought of a teenage girl basically getting the best of him making his jugular vein stick out. He didn’t answer, stopped and thought for a moment. The girl was right. Speaker Rusch had no control over him right now. He’d already gotten things moving overseas, which was the main objective anyway. And he needed the son to get away. The kid would be worth a fortune as well, as surely the corrupt Speaker of the House had a ton of money stashed somewhere. “Miss Donovan, I’ll trade some of the hostages for young Rusch.”

  “Not yet. Considering what you just tried, you owe us one. You’ll let half of the hostages go, and then we’ll discuss terms on a new deal. Right now I don’t have to agree to anything, and you do. Like I said, we need a show of good faith. Otherwise, you’re a dead man and I’ll come dance on your grave. Releasing some hostages makes us even. For now. Besides, my father already did what you asked and you certainly don’t need that many hostages. Considering you’ve probably lost half your people, it will be less people for you to guard. But I guess it’s up to you if you’d rather die by firing squad or blown to bits in a plane.”

  Mayfair knew he was backed into a corner. The girl was a damn poker player and he knew he had no choice if he wanted the Rusch kid. It was his only option for survival. “Very well. I’ll let half the people go. And then we’ll talk terms.”

  “Fine. I’ll be watching. And don’t take too long.”

  The conversation ended and Mayfair put the radio in his pocket.

  Sydney Donovan was right about one thing. He didn’t need to take too long.

  About getting out of the country.

  It was time to speed things up. The hell with the original schedule.

  And the hell with what Sterling Rusch wanted.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Sydney found Kyle and Vince sitting at the console in the Situation Room, doing something with the two-way radios. “Okay, what are you two geniuses putting together this time?”

  Vince looked up and smiled. “We’re building the world’s first digital-analog hybrid radio station incorporating the frequency—”

  “In English, please.”

  He held up one of the radios taken from Mayfair’s team. “Okay, here’s the deal. Right now we can monitor anything Mayfair says on this.”

  She shrugged. “So? He obviously knows that by now since we’ve been talking to him.”

  “Right, but no one else besides us can hear him because these radios are set to a special frequency and unless you have one of them everything is scrambled. Wouldn’t it help if the good guys outside could monitor?”

  “And how would they do that without one of Mayfair’s radios?”

  Kyle swung his chair around. “We’re going to send Mayfair’s broadcast through one of our analog radios.”

  She shook her head and put up her hands. “Whoa, hold on. I’m confused. You’re going to connect something modern and digital that’s scrambled to something that’s analog and obsolete and then send the signal past the jammer out to the FBI?”

  “Exactly.” Vince stood up, holding two radios duct-taped together. “And it’s not obsolete it w
orks. Great misconception of our society. That’s why we’ve become a disposable society—”

  “Okay, okay, I get it, but how is this magical invention of yours going to work?”

  “Remember how I told you that analog radios could be picked up by an old police scanner? Basically we taped one of Mayfair’s radios together with an analog radio, with the microphone keyed on the analog one, so it’s always set to transmit. Any audio on one of Mayfair’s radios will be picked up by the analog’s microphone and be broadcast outside. I’ll send the frequency of the analog radio to the FBI using the texting site on the teleprompter computer, and they can monitor anything Mayfair says on the radio. And anything we say in response. So if you want them to hear something outside, all you have to do is call Mayfair on the radio and talk to him. Or just say something on the radio.”

  “Okay, that sounds like a great idea, but how do you know the analog signal can reach the outside world from down here?”

  “I don’t think it can, but I know it can reach from the under trap door in the Oval Office.”

  “But we can’t get there, remember? No ladder.”

  Kyle stood up and smiled. “Don’t need one.” He held up a flat purple plastic band. “I’ve got this Pilates band someone had in their purse and I can make a slingshot out of it. We don’t have any rope, but I’ve got a ton of long cable, so we shoot the cable up to the hole in the ceiling below the trap door, hopefully loop it around one of those exposed pipes I saw, then use it to hoist the radios up in place. They will be right below your father’s desk away from the jammer and can be easily heard outside. Then the FBI can monitor as long as the battery on the analog radio holds up. Of course, how long that will be is anyone’s guess. But anything is better than nothing.”

  “Won’t Mayfair’s people hear the audio coming from the Oval Office?”

  Vince shook his head. “We’ve got the speaker on Mayfair’s radio taped flush against the microphone on the analog radio. We could barely hear Mayfair when he was just on the radio, and I doubt you’d be able to hear it through the old hardwood floor and carpet of the Oval Office. The only way you should be able to hear anything is to pick up the signal, which the FBI will easily be able to do.”