by Paul Moxham
Maggie yells out. “Hey!” The shout is so loud it echoes through the cavernous space for quite some time. But it does shut the mercenaries up.
Thomas steps over and whispers into Maggie’s ear. “I like your style, but the idea is to keep a low profile here.”
Luke stands up, looks Jack in the eye. “Give it to us straight. This a coup?”
Jack shakes his head. “No, it’s…”
“A rescue mission,” breaks in Thomas.
The mercenaries all turn to Thomas, liking the way he’s characterized the mission.
“Can’t the Secret Service protect the president?” asks Keith.
“The Secret Service can’t do jack,” says Angel.
“Hey!” calls out Charles.
“What?” asks Cole. “You work for them or something?”
Everyone laughs, but when the laughter subsides, they realize he does.
“Sorry, man,” says Luke.
“Trust me, the Service is on its game,” replies Charles. “That’s the problem. If this is coming from within the White House, there’s no telling how many agents they’ve flipped.”
“Okay, so how do we get in?” speaks up Keith.
“We’re working on that,” says Jack.
“Going in hot?” asks Angel.
Charles nods. “No question about it.”
Thomas glances around, speaking as he does. “Gentlemen, beneath the White House there is a series of tunnels that have existed since it was built. They were created as a safety valve for the president, a way to escape if things got too unsafe. But now, the threat comes from those tunnels. The answer is in the rooms there, so that’s where we’re going. But make no mistake, it’s going to be a battle.”
“And we don’t want to bleed the good guys,” speaks up Jack.
Maggie hands Jack a particular pistol. He aims the gun and pulls the trigger. A tranquilizer dart flies out and hits the wall.
“A dart?” asks Luke, confused. “Why don’t we just play laser tag while we’re at it?”
“Highly concentrated tranquilizer,” answers Jack. “Puts them down quickly, but not for very long. All we’re trying to do is keep them out of our hair long enough.”
“Long enough for what?” asks Angel.
“To search the rooms until we find whatever we have to find.” Jack sees looks of dissent from the mercenaries. He has to step up the rhetoric. “Guys, the president’s life, and the fate of our society, is in jeopardy. I have no idea how high this conspiracy goes, but what I do know is this. The threat will be ended by the men and women in this room today. We will stop the assassination attempt, and we will save Lombard. It will be the toughest assignment any of you will ever have. But, you don’t look like the kind of guys who back down from a fight. Are you?”
Luke and Keith exchange a look and a shrug. “We’re in.”
Chapter 10
As Charles races down the tunnel in the White House, Jack checks his watch as he waits inside a black van that is parked nearby. “C’mon, c’mon...”
“Be patient,” says Thomas, who is staring out of the window, deep in thought.
Jack shakes his head. “There’s no time for patience.”
“And there’s no call for haste. It’ll kill you as quick as a bullet. Now let the man do his job.”
From Jack’s nervous energy, it’s clear he’s not going to take Thomas’ advice.
Suddenly, a bird call sounds in the distance. “There’s the signal!” yells out Jack.
Thomas turns and looks toward the park where Maggie stands with her foot up on a bench, pretending to be a jogger tying her laces. She gives a fake bird call and turns toward a statue of Abraham Lincoln which cracks open, the bust of the great president tipping long enough for Charles to climb through.
Thomas chuckles. “Honest Abe... fitting.”
Charles looks around, then does an almost-imperceptible nod, and the nearby van opens up.
Jack, Thomas and the mercenaries pile out. The group scrambles toward the statue, moving in impressive military formation, and disappearing through the portal within seconds.
Maggie starts jogging, passing the strike team as she heads toward the van, climbs in and drives away.
The Lincoln bust falls closed just seconds before a dog walker, with a bevy of barking pooches, comes padding past. The dogs smell something cooking, and the walker snoops around with curiosity.
Inside the tunnel, the team moves quickly as they follow Jack’s lead.
Jack comes to the first room and shoots the lock open with his pistol. He peers in. Empty. He turns back to the team. “Check every door in the complex. Whatever they’ve got planned, the answers are somewhere in these rooms.”
He motions for the other men to break into the next room. He watches as Luke enters and returns a moment later.
Luke shakes his head. “Nothing. Maybe they haven’t…”
“Don’t underestimate the threat we’re dealing with,” speaks Jack. “Every room.”
The men go to work, searching one room at a time as Jack and Charles stand guard in the hallway.
Charles watches them as they step in and out of room after room, shaking their heads each time they return to the tunnel.
“Something’s wrong,” comments Charles.
“Just now figuring that out?” says Jack.
“No. Something more than that. Something wrong about...”
“About what?”
“This moment,” replies Charles. “Feels too safe. Here and now.”
“If it feels safe…” breaks in Jack.
“It isn’t.”
Together, they make their way past the rooms as they are opened. Jack pauses in front of the last room as Luke and Keith try to break the door open, but they can’t.
“We need some heavy firepower over here,” says Jack.
Angel hurries over, un-slings her sub machine gun and opens fire. Bullets tear across the door making numerous holes. Jack steps forward and kicks the door open.
A second later, the entire complex is rocked by a massive explosion!
Jack is the first to recover from the blast. He clears his head, stumbles towards where the door used to be, and sees Charles on the floor.
Jack shakes him. Nothing. Finally, he smacks him across the cheek. Hard.
Charles’s eyes flutter open. He’s groggy. “My fault...”
“What?” asks Jack.
“There’s nothing in these rooms.”
“We’re back to that?”
“No. See what I’m saying? There’s nothing in these rooms, nothing in this tunnel except for us. Get it? It’s a trap. They knew you would think it was going to happen here and they knew I would bring you back here.”
“Did you…”
“No, I didn’t know! I just realized it right now.”
Jack suddenly realized something. “Bastard...”
Charles looks at him. “Who?”
“They knew we’d come here.”
“Meanwhile, the real attack is somewhere else...” Charles’s voice trails off and Jack follows his gaze, seeing Thomas’s body on the ground nearby. Dead.
“Thomas...” mutters Jack.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Bullets ping off the walls above Jack and Charles as someone opens fire from the entrance to the complex.
“Down!” yells Charles.
Jack draws his pistol and turns to the mercenaries, shuffling into position behind him. “Open fire!”
The mercenaries open fire and soon it’s every man for himself. Jack crouches in a doorway.
Charles kneels in the doorway across from him. “We can’t stay here forever.”
Jack loads his pistol, and then motions to Charles. “Give me your piece.”
“What for?”
“Want me to lay it all out or just do it? Throw me your weapon!”
Charles tosses the gun across the hall. Jack catches it easily. “Be careful.”
“Yeah, right...” Jack motions fo
r the mercenaries to hold their fire as he makes his way up the tunnel.
Bullets ricochet off the walls and Jack drops to the floor, crawling up the hallway and rolling to dodge gunfire. He shuffles forward and opens fire with both weapons at once.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! With every shot fired, Jack thrusts forward with more and more energy until the return fire stops. But... Blam! Blam! Blam! Jack keeps firing.
“Enough!” yells out Charles.
Jack finally releases the trigger and, when the smoke settles, he’s staring down at a dead man, lying there with his machine gun by his side.
This is no Secret Service agent, no soldier. This is a paramilitary gunman, clearly a part of the conspiracy.
Jack stares at the dead body for a long moment, then turns back to his men behind him. They slowly make their way out of the crooks and shadows and move toward him.
When they get to him, they follow his gaze, looking past the dead body toward a trail of blood leading away from the tunnel. Another gunman.
They hurry down the tunnel. Soon, Jack, Charles, and Luke climb through the fireplace in the bedroom and instantly spot a trail of blood leading towards the door.
“That's our man,” says Jack.
Charles nods. “Dangerous territory coming up. Not just our enemy but…”
“Secret Service,” speaks up Luke.
“Right,” says Jack.
“Use the tranq guns,” comments Charles.
“Lock and load,” says Jake.
Luke shakes his head and stares in disapproval at the tranquilizer gun. “That phrase just don’t sound right when we’re shooting darts.”
They make their way out of the bedroom and head down the hallway. They follow the blood trail as it gets thinner and thinner. Eventually it just ends. Right before a fork in the hallway.
“Okay, which way?” asks Luke.
Jack looks to Charles. Charles shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Suddenly, a voice yells out. “Freeze!”
They turn to see Mendez coming toward them, gun drawn, another agent at his side.
Charles squeezes off two shots with the tranquilizer gun, missing Mendez but hitting the other agent, who crumbles to the floor below. Seeing his ally go down, Mendez charges the group, opening fire. Blam! Blam! “Hands up! Now!”
Jack dives around a corner as shots splinter the wall around him. Charles doesn’t move. He’s frozen as he stares at the fallen agent. “He’s gonna be fine, Charles! Get down!”
Charles drifts to Jack’s corner, still in a daze. Jack’s about to say something, when he’s shocked by another sight... It’s Luke, drawing his gun. Not his tranquilizer gun, but his real weapon. “No! Use the tranq!”
Gunshots ring out as Luke and Mendez engage in a firefight. Behind Jack and Charles, the other mercenaries fire at more agents.
“No!” Jack rushes back into the middle of the firefight between Luke and Mendez, braving bullets from both directions, as he fires off a tranquilizer. It grazes Mendez’s arm, and he drops to the ground clutching a gash over his elbow. It’s not instantaneous, but Mendez goes woozy and blacks out.
Jack grabs Luke and pulls him around the corner. Charles and the other mercenaries follow behind. They almost stumble over two bodies on the floor. Two Secret Service agents... Dead.
Charles is dazed by the sight of the corpses in his familiar black suit. “Oh my…”
“Charles!” speaks up Jack. “We didn’t do that. It’s not us.”
Charles looks over at Luke and the loaded gun in his hand. “What happened to non-lethal? Where’s your discipline now!”
“If they’re using these peashooters, fine,” replies Luke. “Otherwise, I’m keeping the playing field level.”
Charles suddenly lunges at Luke, and they struggle. The other mercenaries try to break them up.
“Hey! Enough!” yells Jack. He squats next to one of the bodies, searching through the pockets. He finds a folded wad of paper and opens it up. It shows an aerial view of a landscape complete with position markings, formation lines, and target Xs. “Found something.” Charles and Luke release each other and Jack holds the paper for Charles to see. “This mean anything to you?”
Charles studies the image long and hard. “This looks like the layout of Camp David.”
“Then we’ve gotta keep the president from going there,” replies Jack.
Suddenly, footsteps from the tunnel can be heard behind them. They look up to see Wilcox tip-toe around the corner, gun drawn.
Wilcox and the mercenaries level their guns at each other, but Jack jumps in the middle. “Don’t shoot! Hold your fire!” He faces Wilcox. “Chief? How’d you get here?”
Wilcox stares at him. “I got calls about a group of gunmen sneaking around a park near the White House disappearing into secret tunnels.”
“We’re here to save the president, Chief,” answers Jake. “You’ve gotta believe me.”
“I don’t have to believe anything!” shouts Wilcox. “It’s courtesy enough to fish you outta here before SWAT comes in and does things their way. Lower your guns, and let’s all come out of here alive.” Wilcox defiantly maintains his ground, one against six.
A back door flies open and Mendez bolts in, flanked by five other agents. “Put your hands up!”
Jack’s team and Wilcox waver at the multiple targets. Guns pointed in every direction. Nerves on fire.
Charles speaks. “Mendez, listen…”
“Shut up!” yells Mendez. “You have broken into the White House, engaged with Secret Service agents and put a very annoying tranquilizer dart in my arm. Do not think for a second that these men will not end you. Put your hands up now!”
Jack tosses the folded paper at Mendez’s feet. “We found this on that downed agent. You need to look at it.”
“Like hell I do,” yells Mendez. “Hands up!”
“Mendez!” shouts Jack. “You signed up for this job to protect the president. Now’s your chance! That is an all out attack plan.”
Mendez inspects the document. “Camp David.”
“We don’t have to go any further, just keep the president from going there,” pleads Charles. “His life could depend on it.”
Mendez peers at Jack and Charles, evaluating their honesty. “He’s been there since this morning. Nothing has happened so far and you expect me to believe that something will happen now? At Camp David?”
Suddenly, one of the agents behind Mendez puts his finger to his earpiece, a puzzled look upon his face. After a second, he steps forward and puts his arm on Mendez’s shoulder. “Mendez...”
“What is it?” exclaims Mendez, annoyed.
“We just lost contact with Camp David.”
Mendez looks at the agent and sees the worry in his eyes. He then looks back to Charles and Jack, reluctantly accepting their story.
Everyone glances at each other, seeking assurance they can lower their weapons. Like synchronized components in a large machine, the guns all lower very, very slowly.
“If you’re telling the truth,” begins Mendez, “then we have to get to Camp David ASAP.”
“But by the time we take a car…” says Jack.
“We’re the Secret Service,” breaks in Mendez, a grim smile appearing. “How do you think we travel?”
Chapter 11
As the sun slowly sets across the countryside, a helicopter roars through the sky. In the back of the craft is Wilcox, Jack, Charles and their team in back.
Mendez sits in front with the pilot. “How close are we?”
“Pretty close,” answers the pilot. He nods towards the window and Mendez peers out.
He doesn’t see anything at first, just trees, but then a moment later, Camp David becomes visible. His jaw drops in shock. Smoke and fire are visible while two news vans are turned on their sides, as if they’d been attacked. Dead bodies litter the ground. It looks like a war zone. He glances back at the others. “Looks ugly down there.”
�
�Good thing we’re here then,” answers Charles.
Mendez shoots a look at Maggie, who sits next to Jack, loading herself up with weaponry. “You know how to handle that stuff?”
Before Maggie can answer, Angel pipes up. “Hey! Don’t be sexist, tough guy.”
Mendez looks at Angel’s bulging biceps, then at Maggie’s confident look as she inspects her weapon and realizes they’re gonna be okay. “Cool. Lock and load...”
All eyes shift to the window as the massive retreat draws closer.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Sporadic gunfire. A shootout is underway on the ground between surviving Secret Service agents and a cadre of militant insurgents.
“Looks like we’re just in time,” mutters Mendez.
Everyone readies their weapons as the chopper touches down on the landing pad.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Gunfire peppers the area as Jack and his crew storm out of the chopper.
Nearby, a Secret Service agent turns, about to fire on Jack and his crew, but stops when he sees Mendez.
Suddenly, bullets shatter the windshield, which draw a line of holes across the side of the chopper.
Jack turns, sees the bullets tracing a direct line to the gas tank. “Gas!” He scrambles toward the tree line, beckoning for his compatriots to follow suit. “Go, go, go, go, go!”
The mercenaries dive for cover just as… Boom! The chopper bursts into a fiery ball of flame.
They cover their heads, holding tight against the licking flames until the fireball recoils. They stare in disbelief at the destruction.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Bullets pepper the trees behind them, bark and leaves showering down upon them.
“We’ve gotta find Lombard,” yells Jack.
Charles points toward a building across the way. “Main lodge is right over there.”
Getting cover fire from Angel and Luke, Jack, Charles and Wilcox bound in that direction.
Maggie follows behind, but her path is cut off by a string of bullets. She’s pinned down.
“Maggie!” shouts Jack, looking back.
Charles grabs him by the elbow and pulls him forward. “She’s with us because she can handle herself. Now, let’s go.”
Jack watches as Maggie scurries for cover behind helicopter wreckage. She gives him a nod, telling him to go, and he moves on. She fires a rifle toward the hostiles until it runs out, and she clicks empty rounds.
