by Mark Spaid
“What?” Shelly asked as her countenance had moved from interest to fear.
“The bus your mom was on has been hijacked.”
“What? How is that possible?” Brian asked.
“I don’t know but everyone on the bus is missing. That’s all I know.”
“What will they do to get Mom back?” Shelly asked.
“I don’t know that either.”
“They must have some plan in mind,” Brian said.
“Maybe they do.”
“Shouldn’t they tell you,” Brian said.
“Yeah, you’re the President’s husband,” Shelly added.
“Look, kids, I have no role in the government whatsoever, I’m just a glorified babysitter.”
“You’re more than that, Dad,” Shelly said.
“I wish I was, baby, but my only job is to keep you two out of trouble.” Brian looked down and shook his head. Shelly went to her dad and hugged him.
“Will the army get Mom back?” Brian asked.
“It’s not that easy, they’re in Russia and an operation by us would technically be an act of war.”
“But kidnapping the President must be an act of war also,” Brian said.
“Oh, I agree with that but it wasn’t the Russian government that took her but a band of fanatics.”
“The Stalinists?” Shelly asked.
“That’s right and they’ll kill anyone who gets in their way.”
“Including mom?” Brian asked.
“Yes, Brian, including your mom.” They just sat silent after that.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Sir, we have a situation in Russia,” Deke Winters said as he approached General Zumwalt in the situation room at NORAD.
“What?”
“The President has been kidnapped.”
“How?”
“The tour bus that was going over the bridge was taken by a band of hooligans.”
“Hooligans nothing, they were Stalinists. That group is just crazy enough to do something like that.”
“We don’t know any more than that right now.”
“Alright, keep digging.”
“Yes, sir,” Deke said and went back to his console.
“Sir,” Lieutenant Alton said standing in front of Zumwalt’s desk.
“Yes.”
“There’s been an incident at Kapustin Yar.”
“What?”
“The site is compromised. We’re picking up conversations from our satellites that suggest the site has been taken over by a Stalinist.”
“Great, that’s all we need. Anything else?”
“Yes, sir…he’s armed the missiles.” Walt stood up and let out a big sigh.
“Take us to DEFCON FOUR and get me Alaskan Air Command on the line.
“Yes, sir.” The light overhead changed from DEFCON FIVE to DEFCON FOUR. A man handed a phone to General Zumwalt.
“Hello, Tommy, this is Zumwalt at NORAD. The President’s been kidnapped in Russia…Well, they were taking that idiotic bridge tour when a group of renegades took her…yeah, I agree. That’s all we know but we also found out that Kapustin Yar is compromised. Yeah, it’s been taken over by a Stalinist and he’s locked the doors. Of course, they can’t breach or the computer will launch the missiles automatically…yes, they’re armed. Probably the guy who took over and locked the door. Yes, I know and I’ve moved to DEFCON FOUR. Yeah, scramble the bombers. What? Yeah, I know that they’ll interpret our bombers in the air as a start of an attack, Tommy, but I don’t want to be caught with our planes on the ground. Okay, I’ll stay in touch.” Walt handed the phone to an assistant and stared at the board showing an enormous map of the world. All was calm and normal at this point though Russian submarine activity was conspicuous.
* * *
“Calm down, I can’t hear anyone!” Wendy Lewis said as she had arms in the air trying to quiet everyone in the Whitehouse press room. It was full of reporters and everyone knew now that the President had been taken.
“Wendy!” A reporter shouted and almost instinctively everyone quieted to listen to the question.
“Yes, Dan.” Wendy was the assistant press secretary and with Kent in Russia it fell on her to conduct any press briefings. None had been planned. Kent made that clear before he left. No one spoke to the press except Kent. Those were Kent’s rules. But obviously things had changed.
“Wendy, where is the President.”
“We don’t know, somewhere in Russia.”
“How did this happen?” John continued.
“We don’t know that either, details are sketchy.”
“Have there been ransom demands?” Another reporter asked.
“No.”
“What is being done to get her back?”
“It’s early, Stephanie, I’m sure plans are being made as we speak.”
“You mean you don’t know?” Another reporter asked.
“In case you are unaware Miles, the Whitehouse assistant press secretary is not usually involved in tactical planning of military operations.” There was laughter.
“Where is the Speaker of the House?”
“I can’t disclose that.”
“Do you know?”
“I can’t disclose that.”
“Where is the Secretary of State?”
“I can’t disclose that.”
“Is this going to be your response to everything?”
“If you expect me to reveal information about the location of key members of the government then yes. You look smarter than that, Adam.” There was more laughter.
“With the President abducted and the Speaker’s whereabouts unknown then the President Pro Tem of the Senate is in charge, right?”
“That would be right Megan,” and there was light laughter.
“Where is he?”
“You can’t disclose that,” a reporter spoke up quickly and there was more laughter.
“You’re catching on fast,” Miles.” The press conference ended and Wendy went up to Cheryl Wallach in the hall. “Where’s Benton?”
“We’re headed to his residence right now.” Perry Benton was the oldest serving Senator of the majority party and the line of succession goes: President…vice President…Speaker of the House…President Pro Tem…Secretary of State, etc. In nearly all cases the President Pro Tem is a very old person. Not that elderly people are mentally incapable of being President but the strains are considerable, and in the past the Pro Tem position has been held by people who were physically infirm as they hung onto power. It is certainly a weak point in the American political system. Senator Benton was in his seventh term at the age of eighty-four. The people of Wyoming liked Perry and returned him to the Senate every time he asked.
“We need to speak to the Senator immediately,” a secret service man said as seven of them were on the porch and around the house of Perry Benton.
“The Senator is resting,” a man said but before he could finish the agents pushed their way into the house.
“This is an emergency and we have to see the Senator now!” The agent said firmly.
“Paul, what is it?” A man said as he came into the room and when he saw the men in suits his shoulders slumped. “I saw the press conference and I guess you’re here for me.”
“Yes, Senator, we need to take you to the Whitehouse right now.” Perry nodded.
“Paul, would you get my cane, please.”
“Here, you are, Senator.”
“Let’s go, sir.” They ushered Perry to a car and sped rapidly to the Whitehouse complete with flashing lights and sirens as they pulled into the rear exit and led Perry upstairs to the situation room.
“Here’s a place for you, Senator,” an agent said as he stood behind a chair he pulled out. It was a large oval table used for meetings like this. Men and women were already there and all rose for the President Pro Tem. Pro Tem is short for Pro Tempore, which is Latin for “In place of.” The President pro Tem is a placeholder for the President of
the United States Senate who is the vice-President. Perry never wanted the job. He liked being a senator but he didn’t like being in the line of succession. Normally, with three people ahead of you the chances of being thrust into the Presidency are remote even close to non-existent. But, remember there was no vice-President, the President’s whereabouts was unknown and the Speaker was also out of touch. So, Perry Benton was in the hot seat whether he liked it or not.
“Thank you,” Perry said as he sat. “Well, I see the gangs all here.” There was laughter despite the situation. “Secretary of State, Marty Ingersoll, Secretary of Defense, Susan Rojas, Secretary of the Treasury, Louise Chen, Attorney General Haakon Meisner, CIA Director, Rita Fitzgerald, FBI Director Marcus Washington, Secretary of Homeland Security, Rajesh Sanghvi, Secretary of the Interior, Cian Minh, Secretary of Commerce Mohammed Aziz and Secretary of Health and Human Services, Jonathan Red Cloud. You know, I hope things work out here for the best today but whatever happens I like the look of this room. I’ve been around a long, long time, some of you could be my children and a couple my grandchildren. I remember when this room was filled with all white men. They were good men for the most part but that was wrong. This is what we should strive for; I don’t know if this room looks like America but it’s what it should look like if it’s going to represent America. There, my speech is over. Now, what is going on with the President and where is the Speaker?”
“Senator, President Lexington was taken along with the Russian President and all of their aides. They were on a bus and it has disappeared. Russian security forces are on the hunt for it,” Marty Ingersoll answered.
“Who took them?” Perry asked.
“We think a Stalinist group is behind it.”
“Andrei Kulagin, of course.” The people around the table looked at each other almost in surprise at Perry’s acumen at his age.”
“Yes, it still works,” Perry said pointing at this head and grinning. Marty Ingersoll smiled.
“The bus was stopped and a carload of American agents and one of Russian agents was ambushed and they were all killed. The bus then sped away and smashed the vehicles that’d been driven by the leaders. Later they were seen taking off in other vehicles and chasing the bus,” Marty continued.
“So, maybe our people or the Russians both acting together retook the bus from the hijackers.”
“It’s possible,” Marty said.
“Where’s the Speaker?”
“As far as we can tell she’s holed up in the hotel where they stayed. We don’t know how many agents are with her,” Louise Chen said. The Secret Service is a division of the Treasury Department so, the safety of the President falls to the Secretary of the Treasury.
“Have there been ransom demands?” Perry asked.
“Not yet,” Rajesh Sanghvi replied.
“Can we get Valerie back here?” Perry asked.
“We don’t know,” Rita Fitzgerald said. “My people have been trying to contact her with no luck so far.
“Senator, there’s something else,” Susan Rojas said.
“What?”
“It appears that the Stalinists mean business in a big way.”
“Explain.
“Kapustin Yar has been taken over by a fanatic that is surely working for Kulagin.”
“How many missiles?”
“Could be as many as forty,” Rojas answered.
“And we suspect they’re armed?”
“Yes, sir. We’re picking up chatter by Stalinist groups claiming the missiles are ready to head towards New York, Washington, Atlanta, etc. We’re not certain of this but we have to act as if it is legitimate,” Susan concluded.
“I agree. What do you think, Rita, do you have anything on these missiles?”
“Just the same thing Susan has. We have sources inside Russia and near Kapustin Yar but nothing definitive. Russian forces have surrounded the site but we know they have a doomsday mechanism if the control room is breached.”
“Yes, so all they can do is sit and watch.” Perry got up and walked to a corner of the room, turned his back on everyone and with hands clasped behind his back as he looked at the ceiling. There was silence for a few moments as they all looked at each other then Perry turned to face the table.
“Senator, General Zumwalt has moved to DEFCON FOUR,” Rojas added.
“Based on the missile site being compromised?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Alright, folks, now we need to proceed very cautiously here. We can’t let a group of lunatics coax us into a nuclear exchange,” Perry said.
“The Russian government is not behind this, sir,” Ingersoll posed.
“Of course, not but if these nuts start launching missiles at us then General Zumwalt will carry out his standing orders…full scale retaliatory attack. The end of everything.”
“We need the Speaker back here,” Haakon Meisner said.
“Is that possible?” Perry asked.
“We hope so, sir, they should be working on it right now,” Rita Fitzgerald said.
* * *
“Madam Speaker, we need to get you back to Washington as fast as possible,” Derek Menzer said as he stood in Valerie’s hotel room along with three other agents, Andrew Bellingham and Henry York.
“How, Derek, there’ll be spies everywhere,” Janet Chester said as she peeked through the blinds to the street below.
“We have to find a way,” Derek said.
“This town is crawling with Stalinists, it’d take an army to get her to the airport,” Andrew said.
“She’d be better off to stay holed up here,” Henry said.
“No, Henry that won’t work. Right now, all attention is on the kidnapping but in time they’ll realize that the Speaker is still here in Kerch. Then they’ll make their way back here and take her. It would be a prize to have the first two lines of succession,” Andrew explained.
“So, what do we do, Andrew?” Henry asked.
“We take a cab to the airport and buy a ticket for the Speaker on the next flight to Kiev,” Andrew answered.
“Well, that sounds like a great idea, Andrew, but just how do you propose doing it. We’ll be made before we get out of the lobby,” Henry said.
“He’s right, sir,” Derek said.
“Yes, normally that would be the case.”
“But you have some idea that will make this case abnormal,” Henry said.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“We’re all ears,” Henry said.
“The best bet is for you Henry and the Speaker to go, just the two of you…in disguise.”
“Disguise,” Valerie said.
“Yes, now you do have some casual clothes I take it,” Andrew said.
“A sweatshirt, jeans and tennis shoes.”
“Perfect. Henry, what about you?”
“A casual shirt and some slacks.”
“Okay, now sunglasses are a must. Henry, you’ll need to die your hair and, Valerie, you’ll have to let your hair down on your shoulders. I’ve never seen you when it wasn’t up like it is now.”
“You think this will work?” Valerie asked.
“I don’t know but it’s your only chance of getting back to the states.”
“What about a flight?” Derek asked.
“I checked and there’s a seven o’clock to Kiev,” Agent Chester replied.
“How do we pay, they’ll be suspicious of American dollars,” Valerie said.
“I know, but I cashed in dollars for rubles the day we got here,” Andrew said.
“Why?” Valerie asked.
“I thought I might buy a souvenir for my wife and maybe visit the local places.”
“I suppose you know the cost of the flight,” Valerie remarked.
“Yes, and this is more than enough,” Andrew said as he handed a wad of currency to Henry.
“What about you, Andrew?”
“I’ll stay here, maybe I can help in some way.”
“But you�
�ll be in danger. If they see you, they’ll take you also,” Henry posed.
“I’ll survive, remember I was a marine a long time ago.”
“We’re the same age, Andrew, and sixty-four is not a good time to rely on your marine skills from days gone by.”
“Perhaps not but I’ll find a way to make it or go down fighting.”
“Mr. Bellingham…” Valerie started.
“Valerie, you better get started, you’ll need some lead time at the airport.”
“I’ll send agents Chester and Wilkins ahead to check out the airport. John, Janet’s in charge.” John nodded. “If need be, create a disturbance to get attention away from the Speaker and Mr. York.”
“We will, Derek,” Janet said.
“Good, go ahead now, use the back streets, take off your coat and ties and try to blend in as much as possible.” The two agents left as Valerie and Henry went to their hotel rooms to get in disguise.
* * *
“Are we ready?” Henry asked as he and Valerie had changed into their scrubbies. Scrubbies for Valerie was a sweat shirt and jeans that together cost three hundred dollars. Henry was wearing a polo shirt that cost him eighty. But that’s what they had and it’d have to do.
“I guess, let’s see what happens.” They slipped down a back exit, into an alley and after a few steps Henry stopped. “What’s wrong, Henry?”
“We still look too good for these people.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at those people across the street there. These are poor people. Look how dirty they are and uncombed hair. You see that couple by the street sign. That’s how we should look.”
“What do you propose?”
“When was the last time you played in the dirt?”
“What?”
“Remember when you were a kid and you went out to recess and rolled on the ground?”
“No.”
‘Well it was like this,” Henry said as her reached down picked up a handful or dirt and smeared it on Valerie’s sweat shirt.
“This was new, Henry.”
“That’s the problem, we need to look old, dirty, disheveled.”
“Okay,” Valerie said and smeared dirt on Henry’s shirt and face. After five minutes of this they were much like everyone else.
