by Ken Fite
“Why, mate?”
“Because Willis is going to strike the safe house to kill Omar Malik. Chris is still in there.” There was no response. I looked at my phone. Saw the battery had drained completely. I tried to turn it on again, but it was no use. “Damn it,” I said to myself as I set my phone down. I sat in silence, deciding what to do, as a similar memory washed over me of my friend Jon Miller and the drone strike that had killed him.
My breathing was shallow. I couldn’t take a full breath of air without being in extreme pain. It felt like I was suffocating. I tried to ignore it. I put the Tahoe into gear, but kept my foot on the brake. Thought about going to the safe house. Figured it was my only play. Get there, make sure Chris and everybody got out before the drone sent two Hellfire missiles into it. I lifted my foot and started to move. But as I drove in the silence, something nagged at me. The old guy in the guardhouse whom Willis killed. It didn’t make sense why he’d done it. He could’ve gotten inside and taken care of Simon without any issues. But no, Willis shot the man before he drove inside. He went out of his way to kill him for no reason at all.
Then I had another thought, remembering something Chris Reed had said. I was sitting inside his SUV. Reed was explaining why Willis might have let Omar Malik use the FBI’s safe house. Might as well have been operating from the basement of the Hoover Building , he’d said. Last place anybody would’ve looked . I stopped hard. Made a U-turn and headed back to the NAC. I knew where to find Robert Hayes.
FIFTY-EIGHT
I ARRIVED TWO minutes later. Approached the Nebraska Avenue Complex fast and saw the guardhouse ahead of me and straightened Willis’s Tahoe as I barreled toward the entrance. I rammed the gate hard. Looked away as I smashed into it and glanced back when I heard the sound of metal hitting the concrete. The gate had come right off and landed on the pavement. Smoke was billowing out from the crumpled hood. I drove the Tahoe back to the same parking spot. I put it in park and slid out of the seat and stood.
To my right was the armory. I remembered Willis swiping his badge at the door and taking me inside. Asking the guy behind the desk to set me up with credentials and a weapon. I reached for my Glock and ran past Willis’s body, toward the building and stopped when I got to the door. My heart was racing. I swiped my badge, even though I knew it wouldn’t work. It just lit up red, indicating I hadn’t been provisioned access to the building.
I cupped one hand over the glass door and looked inside. Saw nothing. I stepped back and gripped the gun with both hands. Aimed at the glass and looked away as I fired two rounds into it. The glass shattered. I turned back and used my weapon to break off a few shards of glass still clinging onto the perimeter of the door. I stepped inside. Held my gun out and scanned left to right and left again, but I didn’t see Hayes anywhere. I kept moving. Went past the desk and the row of security camera monitors and walked into the back where I’d been provisioned the weapon. Flipped on a light. Found the security guy on the floor.
I left the light on and stepped back out. The main area was dark. I noticed a set of stairs leading to a second floor. I went over to them and climbed up fast. Overhead fluorescent lights turned on automatically as I moved. The stairs turned, then turned again. I was careful going around the curves, making sure nobody was there waiting for me as I got to the second floor. It opened up to a long hallway with several offices along each side of the floor. More lights turned on overhead. But before they did, I saw a light on inside the first office on the left. I got to the wall next to the door and slowly looked inside. Saw a man in a chair, bloody and beat up. He was staring at a laptop and a large briefcase that was opened up.
He looked over his shoulder at me. I kept my Glock in my right hand and used my left to put my index finger up to my lips. The man said nothing as I looked farther inside the room, confirming it was clear.
I proceeded to move down the hallway, clearing the rest of the offices before reentering the first one.
“My name is Blake Jordan. I’m here to help you,” I said.
He looked up at me absently. Said nothing.
“Are you alone?”
He nodded and I holstered my weapon.
I turned to look at the override device. There were cords connecting it to a laptop, and the laptop itself was displaying black-and-white aerial footage I assumed was from one of the drones. There was a joystick attached. It looked like two hands needed to be used to fly and direct the aircraft with the device.
“Mr. Hayes, you’re safe now,” I said. “The man who brought you here is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Hayes said nothing.
“Whatever order he gave you needs to be called off right now.” I glanced over at him.
Hayes narrowed his eyes. His countenance changed from hopelessness to panic. “He’s dead?”
I nodded.
“But he has my wife and daughter.”
“He did,” I said. “I got them back. They’re safe. Please, I need you to stop the airstrike right now.”
The man shook his head decisively. “I’m not doing anything until I know they’re okay.”
I felt my pocket for my cell phone, but realized it was in the Tahoe. Wouldn’t have mattered. Dead battery. “You have to believe me,” I said. “Your daughter’s name is Madeline, but she likes to be called Maddie. And your wife is Patricia. We found your daughter several hours ago. They took her first.”
Hayes narrowed his eyes again and stared up at me, but said nothing.
“They were going to sell her to someone, but we stopped it from happening. Then my team and I went to another building. They were keeping your wife there. We killed the men who took her. We got her, too.”
Hayes looked weak but relieved. “I believe you,” he said. “Where’s my family now?”
“Hoover Building,” I said. “Please, you have to help me. The man who brought you here told me he ordered you to initiate a final airstrike if he didn’t return in twenty minutes. Is that true?”
Hayes nodded absently.
“Do you have the coordinates of where that is?”
He nodded again. “I programmed it in already,” he said. “I looked it up. It was an address on P Street.”
My heart beat even faster as the man confirmed what I had feared. The FBI’s safe house was on P street. Curt Willis wanted to make sure if anything happened to him, Omar Malik would die, one way or another.
Hayes tried to stand, but was having a hard time doing so. He was too weak. I helped him up and walked him over to the laptop. He started working as I stared at the device, feeling like the wind got knocked out of me. Hayes was trying different things, but in the end, he just shook his head. “I can’t stop it.”
He lifted his hands from the keyboard and pressed them flat onto the desk. I saw his eyes close.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” he said as he opened his eyes and looked at me. “I feel like I’m going to pass out.”
“Why can’t you stop it?” I asked as he crouched down low and sat on the floor and tried to steady himself.
“I thought that maybe I could extend the timer I had set or delay it some other way, but it didn’t work. Once the launch sequence has started, you can’t undo it. That’s why you have to be absolutely sure about what you’re targeting before you start it.” He thought about it for a long moment. “But you can redirect it.”
I stepped forward. Stood in front of the laptop and put my hands on the joystick. “What am I looking at?”
“That’s video from the drone that’s about to launch the missile. You’re looking at the house on P Street.”
“So what do I do?”
“Use the controller to find a spot somewhere close by that you can redirect the missile to. Keep it locked on the location. Right as it launches, press and hold the trigger. That’ll make the missile go there instead.”
“What about the Tidal Basin?” I asked, referring to the large manmade reservoir nearby.
Haye
s made no reply.
“How do I know when it launches?” I asked, but the man said nothing. I looked over my shoulder and saw him slumped over, passed out. I turned back and redirected the video southwest over the basin. Found the countdown on the screen and waited until it hit zero. As the missile launched, I pressed the trigger hard. I stared at the screen, waiting, praying. A second later, I saw a bright explosion on the screen.
FIFTY-NINE
I TURNED AND watched as Simon entered the room. He had a cell phone pressed against his ear and stared at me. Then his eyes shifted to the device and then to Robert Hayes. “You found him,” he said.
I nodded. “How’d you know I was here?” I asked as Hayes was coming to, and I helped him sit up.
“I heard you crash through the gate,” he said. “I saw you from the window.” He stretched out his hand. “Morgan wants to talk to you.”
I stood. Took the phone from Simon. Told Morgan what I’d done with help from Robert Hayes. Morgan took a few minutes to verify the point of impact. He used a satellite to confirm there had been a large explosion in the Tidal Basin approximately five thousand feet southwest of the Hoover Building. I asked if he’d contacted Chris Reed. Morgan told me that Chris was fine. I told him to call Parker and tell him what had happened and that we needed to release the control the override device had on the US drone fleet.
“I can do it,” said Hayes from the floor, struggling to get up.
“And call Mulvaney,” I said to Morgan. “Tell him I have Robert Hayes, and the override device is secure. Tell him we’re headed to the Hoover Building, and we’re bringing the device. Make sure he’s ready for us.”
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Robert Hayes had deactivated the device, and we were headed to the Hoover Building. Simon drove us there along with the override device. We didn’t bother with the garage; we just left the vehicle parked out front and stepped right through. Mulvaney was standing in the lobby waiting for us. I nodded at the security guards. Thought they were right; I should’ve held onto the visitor’s badge.
Mulvaney ordered one of his agents to take the override device from Hayes and another to debrief him. They left and Mulvaney took us up to the third floor. He walked us down a hallway, and then Mulvaney gestured for us to enter one of the Bureau’s conference rooms, the one I’d been working from earlier.
Jami and Parker were inside. They were seated at the table and looked up at Simon and me as the door opened. Jami stood and came over to me. She hugged me tight. The pain was excruciating, but I stayed quiet about it. Just hugged her back and kept my arms wrapped around her for what felt like an eternity.
I looked up and saw Tom Parker standing close by. I let go of Jami and extended my hand and we shook.
“Thank you,” he said.
I nodded absently as I started to think about the president. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Mulvaney still at the door. “Do we have confirmation that the drones are back under US control?” I asked him.
Mulvaney nodded. “Hayes successfully relinquished control,” he said. “We have control of all US drones.”
“What about the CIA’s?” I said. “Who’s piloting theirs with Creech Air Force Base being taken out?”
Mulvaney smiled. Looked past me at Parker briefly. “Robert Hayes is a smart man,” he said. “We thought he’d taken out the building where the pilots at Creech were operating from. But we were wrong.” Mulvaney paused for a long moment, then looked back at me. “Hayes used a drone to take out the base’s communications systems along with their power station. We’ve confirmed nobody at the base was hurt.”
I nodded. “That’s good news.”
Mulvaney nodded back. “To answer your question, Nellis Air Force Base has taken over for Creech temporarily. Pilots will operate from there until repairs can be made to the infrastructure over at Creech.”
“And no casualties reported at the Pentagon so far,” added Parker. “They hit it in the middle of the night. Building was empty, for the most part.”
I heard movement outside the conference room. I turned and saw through the window a group of men walk past. One of them motioned for Mulvaney, and the director excused himself and left us there alone. I figured Chris Reed had arrived with Omar Malik, and Mulvaney’s agents were ready to process him and move the terrorist to one of their holding rooms until they figured out what they should do with the man.
“What happened to Willis?” asked Parker.
I turned back and stared at him. Said nothing.
Parker gestured for us to sit down. Jami pulled out a chair and I sat down next to her. Parker stared across at me. He rested his hands out in front of him and interlaced his fingers and went quiet for a moment. “Simon called after it happened,” he said, glancing briefly at his analyst. “But I want to hear it from you .”
I looked away, thinking about it. I shook my head slowly. “Willis used you,” I said and turned back to him.
Parker said nothing. Just kept his eyes on me.
“He used his position at Homeland to help Omar Malik,” I said. “He used Malik to kill the president and take the fall for it. You picked the wrong guy to lead your team, Parker. Willis was working against you.”
Parker stared at me. He lowered his gaze to the desk in front of him. “So who’s the right guy?”
I said nothing. Just glanced at Simon, then Jami. Neither of them spoke. The four of us just sat in silence.
“Have they sworn in Mike Billings?” I asked, referring to the vice president.
Parker glanced back up and furrowed his brow. Jami put a hand on my arm. “You don’t know,” she said.
I looked at her briefly, then shifted my eyes back over to Parker. “Know what?”
“The president is safe,” said Parker.
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?” I said. “He was killed in a drone strike. I saw it happen. Morgan confirmed it. He sent a video. Two Hellfire missiles struck Air Force One as it was sitting on the tarmac at Andrews.” Silence in the room. “Morgan said he positively identified the aircraft.”
Parker nodded. “Jordan, I told you I’d figure something out. After we met here and you left, I called the president. He was adamant about turning himself in if it meant saving American lives. You and I know that never would’ve happened. Secret Service wouldn’t have allowed it. But Keller wanted to land anyway. I told him Omar Malik didn’t want him alive. Malik wanted him dead.” Parker lowered his gaze briefly. “So I had an idea,” he continued. “I had the Air Force pull the second Boeing VC-25 they use out of the hangar. Had them start it up and leave it out on the tarmac and take the Air Force One call sign from the actual Boeing carrying the president. Wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be. Mulvaney helped me after he set up a secure line between Malik and Keller. We positioned it on the runway to make it look like it had just landed. Keller made contact with Malik again. Made sure it was clear on the video that the president was still on the plane. They took out the wrong one.” Parker took a breath and smiled. “The president is alive.”
SIXTY
ONE WEEK LATER
I WAS SITTING inside the president’s personal dining room again. Matthew, Kate, Jami, and I were all in the same spots from when we’d had dinner together on our first night at the White House. So was Keller. Jami was to my right. Her sister, Kate, was across from me, with Matthew next to her. Keller sat to my left. The only thing different was we were now having an early breakfast and it was our last morning together.
Chef Gregory stepped inside. He asked if anyone wanted more coffee. I nodded and raised my mug briefly. Gregory smiled as he filled it to the rim and looked across the table at Matthew and caught the boy’s gaze.
“You’ll have to come back for the annual Easter Egg Roll,” said Chef. “And we never finished that movie.”
Matthew smiled and his eyes lit up. “Can we, Mom?”
Kate smiled back and nodded. “I think we’ll be coming back to DC a lot more,” she said and gla
nced at me.
Jami grabbed my hand underneath the table. She squeezed it once and I turned left to face the president.
Keller dabbed his mouth with a napkin and then dropped it onto the table. “Matthew, I’m trusting you,” he said. “The tunnels you saw underneath the White House—they don’t exist, okay? You never saw them.”
Matthew furrowed his brow and stared at the president. “What tunnels?”
We all laughed. Keller stood and pushed his seat in. He rested his hands on the back of the chair. “Thank you for visiting me,” he said. “I’m sorry it was a little more exciting than you may have expected it to be.” The president looked at Jami, Matthew, and Kate in turn. “Please come back and visit again soon, okay?”
They told him they would. Keller said he’d have someone help them with their luggage, and disappeared out the door along with Chef Gregory. Jami and Kate exchanged a look, and they both stood up. Kate told Matthew she and his aunt were going up to the room, and to finish eating his food, then come upstairs.
I waited for the door to close. It was just Matthew and me. We sat together in the silence.
“Looking forward to getting back to Chicago?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I want to stay here, Uncle Blake.”
I laughed to myself and looked down. “Your mom’s getting stronger.”
Matthew said nothing.
“Might be able to take care of herself soon. And take care of you.” I paused and looked back up at him.
Matthew ignored the comment. He was looking around the room like he was seeing it for the first time.
“Want to take a walk?”
He nodded.
I took another sip of coffee and stood. We went to the door and stepped back out into the hallway. Then a memory washed over me. It was a week earlier. Matthew and I were alone together. I’d given him the Medal of Freedom that Keller had presented me with. And he’d given me the Secret Service badge Keller had given him. I dug into my pocket. Felt the bent shield. Felt the concave nature of its new shape with my thumb. Felt the dent the slug had left in it. I put my free hand on the boy’s shoulder as we moved. Our footsteps echoed across the hallway floor as I thought through my decision. I prayed it was the right one.