Mirror, Mirror at 1600 D.C.

by Edward Galluzzi

  Chapter 5

  Software Down

  It was nearly three o’clock in the morning when a barely audible buzz was heard from the phone. The lovers were still intertwined in their embrace. Harrison freed himself as gently as he could so as not to awaken Hannah. He reached for the phone and half-jokingly hoped it was a wrong number. Harrison was as alert as anybody could be when awakened abruptly during the early morning hours.

  Harrison switched on the nightstand light and picked up the phone. He managed to mumble, “Hello.” “We have a special-coded message for Hardware” was the terse reply. Hardware was Harrison’s designation assigned specifically to him by President Ashton. Harrison said abruptly, “One moment” and gathered paper and pen to transcribe the message. He returned to the phone and uttered, “Ready.” Harrison listened intently to the message as he translated its true meaning. A look of horror transformed his groggy facial expression as he decoded the incoming dispatch.

  Harrison hung up the phone slowly without looking at the bridge base for the receiver. He stared at the deciphered message as if he had surely made an error in his transcription. Harrison read the message aloud as if hearing it would provide credibility to its content: “Whereabouts of Software unknown. Report home immediately.” Software was the designation that President Ashton assigned for herself.

  Harrison stared intently at the message, as he stood motionless in the silence. He closed his eyes only to have them reopen to the same insane reality. He phoned the Rome airport and asked for his private hangar number. Harrison requested that his private jet be readied for a flight to the United States and that he would be there within the hour to file his flight plan.

  Harrison gazed at his fiancée who was sleeping angelically before him. He knew he would be unable to meet with Josetta tomorrow as scheduled. Harrison gently nudged Hannah, but she did not awaken. He shook her softly once again and called out her name. Hannah stirred, but once again she did not awaken. Harrison shook Hannah again while shouting loudly, “Hannah! Hannah!” This time Hannah awoke slowly and focused her vision on her intended. “Harrison?” she called out. Hannah asked unsurely, “Harrison. What’s the matter?” Harrison did not immediately answer her realizing that she was not fully conscious. Hannah sat up at the side of the bed. She stared at Harrison, but she did not say anything. He looked as if his life energy was drained from his face. Harrison spoke finally, “I’ve been ordered to return to Washington, D.C. on the next flight.” He offered nothing more. Hannah had a queried look on her face, but did not request anything further from him. Harrison spoke, “You know I can’t tell you why, but it is urgent.” Hannah got up from the bed, wiped the sleep from her eyes and kissed Harrison. She went to the closet and retrieved several suitcases. She packed Harrison’s clothes as he washed and dressed.

  Numerous scenarios and their contingencies raced through Harrison’s mind since he received the flash message. In all the years of service with the U.S. government, there never had been a severed link between the President and those sworn to protect the temporary occupant of the oval office. ‘How could Software disappear without a trace?’ thought Harrison. Brushing aside the political realities of the office for the moment, he wondered how Elizabeth Ashton—the woman, wife and mother—was faring. Harrison was aware of his growing sadness for Software, but he knew that he must try to remain focused.

  Harrison knew that the security staff already took steps even before he received the coded message. Vice-president Neff Jameson, codename Scanner, was first notified of the President’s disappearance. Modem, codename for President Ashton’s husband, Richard Ashton, was advised. The chiefs of staff and heads of the Security Council were informed. These steps were typically taken all things being equal. ‘But,’ thought Harrison, ‘Are all things equal with the disappearance of the first woman President of the United States?’

  Harrison’s thoughts were interrupted by Hannah’s question, “How long do you think you will be gone?” She knew the reply without asking the question. “It’s impossible to say,” was Harrison’s expected response. “What should I do about our scheduled appointment with His Holiness tomorrow?” asked Hannah. “Josetta,” Harrison said silently bowing and shaking his head. Josetta was looking forward to meeting Hannah probably just as much if not more so than Hannah meeting him. Harrison always looked forward to his visits with Josetta. He especially awaited tomorrow’s visit with great anticipation. Harrison so much wanted his holy friend to meet the woman who was to take care of him for the rest of his life. Harrison looked at Hannah with some anguish and uttered slowly, “I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to visit Josetta with you.” There was a brief pause as Harrison registered the disappointment in Hannah’s face. Harrison asked, “How do you feel about visiting the Pontiff without me?”

  Hannah responded without delay, “I think you know it would mean much more to me…well, to all of us if we could all visit together.” Harrison shook his head in agreement. He reiterated, “But I will not be here tomorrow. I may not be back for a long time.” “Is it that serious?” inquired Hannah. “Yes, I’m afraid so,” was the grave reply.

  The comment brought the communiqué about Software back into focus. Harrison finished dressing and called the hotel clerk. He requested a cab in ten minutes to take him to the airport. Harrison turned to Hannah and said, “Why not think about it? The visit is not scheduled until eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. Just be sure to cancel the appointment with the Holy Office if you decide not to go. But I know you, Hannah. Give my regards and love to Josetta.”

  With that, Harrison embraced and kissed Hannah. As he began pulling away, she brought him closer. Hannah wanted to keep his arms around her for as long as she could. She did not know when she would see him again or if she would see him ever again. Harrison understood Hannah’s body language and held her tightly against him. Now they were both reluctant to let each other go. “Oh, Harrison” cried Hannah in breaking their silence. She knew that from what little he told her and not keeping his scheduled visit with his holy friend that the situation was indeed grave.

  Time was working against the lovers. Harrison slowly pulled away from the embrace that united them, an embrace that gave him a sense of peace and caring. Hannah regrettably let him go as they kissed once more. “I’ll call you when I can, but don’t expect to hear from me anytime soon or often,” said Harrison. Hannah gently stroked the face of her beloved as she spoke in a trembling voice, “I’ll be thinking about you…” “You mean worrying about me,” Harrison interrupted. “That too,” said Hannah exposing a glimpse of a smile. With another kiss, the couple parted and Harrison left the room.

  The tears that Hannah proudly held in check streamed freely down her face. She walked slowly toward the bed and slid back under the covers. Hannah turned off the light at her bedside. She knew that the darkness produced by her action was a feigned attempt at engaging sleep. Hannah’s mind was racing with concerns for her Harrison. There was no way for Hannah not to worry when she was not with him. Although Hannah needed her rest, sleep would take a backseat not only tonight, but also perhaps many nights.

  Chapter 6

  Target ‘Target One’

  Harrison arrived at the Rome airport less than two hours after receiving the message that reported the disappearance of Software. Not knowing President Ashton’s whereabouts was disturbing in and of itself without having any knowledge of the circumstances of her disappearance. Harrison paid the cab driver and walked toward the hangar that shrouded Target One, his private jet. He filed his flight plan to Washington, D.C. and reviewed his plans for scheduled refueling.

  With everything in apparent order, Harrison boarded Target One and entered the cockpit. He belted himself into the pilot’s seat and began his routine instrument check for the flight. As Harrison stepped through the checklist, the scent of Hannah on his clothes made his mind drift to thoughts of her and their embrace of not long ago. Distracted by the image, Harrison took a deep breath, clear
ed his mind and focused on his flight preparations.

  With the checklist complete, Harrison rolled Target One out of the hangar and began taxiing toward the runway. He radioed the tower his intentions, “Roma Airport, this is Target One, over.” After a slight pause, the tower replied, “Go ahead Target One.” “Target One ready to taxi,” transmitted Harrison. “Target One, you are clear for takeoff on runway 318,” authorized the tower. “Roger,” replied Harrison. He accelerated the jet and listened as the engines grinded from a low hum to a high pitch scream. Harrison steered Target One in the direction of runway 318. He glanced skyward at the distant horizon. The darkness was retreating as dawn broke over Italy. Harrison turned the corner onto runway 318. He stopped at the edge of the runway and scanned his instrument panel one last time for any anomalies, but he was alerted to none.

  Harrison radioed the tower for final clearance. “Hold for incoming flight,” was the traffic controller’s warning. “Roger control,” radioed Harrison. Except for the droll scream of the engines, silence shrouded the cockpit. As the time of the hold by the tower grew, so did Harrison’s impatience. He was anxious to become airborne for it was in the air that he planned to contact Mentor. Harrison received his orders from and was responsible to Mentor. There was no paper trail for Mentor or the organization that Harrison pledged his allegiance. The line from Mentor to the President had no branches; neither did the line from Mentor to Hardware. Harrison’s reflections were interrupted by Roma control, “Target One, you are clear for take off. Have a pleasant flight. Ciao.” “Thank you. Target One out.”

  The scream of the engines increased in pitch as Harrison accelerated and guided the jet down the runway. The rumble of the runway gave way to the smoothness of flight as the jet lifted off the runway. Harrison continued his glide path until Target One reached 10,000 feet in accordance with his flight plan. He engaged the autopilot and unbuckled himself from the pilot’s seat. Harrison glanced at the instrument panel and scanned the many devices to determine that their readings were within normal parameters. Having satisfied himself of their performance, he walked out of the cockpit and into a small office adjacent to the cockpit.

  The size of the office belied the power of the electronics, weapons and other equipment it contained. Harrison pushed one of several buttons on his desk that lowered a panel on the wall. The opening revealed sensitive communications equipment adapted with scrambling devices and peripherals such as a fax machine, video conferencing monitors, and satellite tracking instruments.

  Harrison sat in front of the communications array and donned a set of earphones. He placed the transmitter in scramble mode and broadcasted freely, “Hardware to Mentor. Hardware to Mentor. Over.” Static filled his ears, as no reply was forthcoming. Harrison repeated his broadcast and waited. Within a minute came the reply, “Hardware, stand by for Mentor.” Static again filled the silence…a long silence. The anticipation heightened Harrison’s senses as the adrenalin surged within him.

  “Hardware, this is Mentor, came the long awaited voice. Harrison responded immediately, “Mentor, this is Hardware, go ahead.” “Harrison, quickly, what’s your altitude?” “Target One is at 10,000 feet” was the pilot’s terse reply. Harrison continued, “Why do you…” but Mentor interrupted him. “Not sure, listen carefully. Scout, who was stationed in California and Eagle, who was based in Texas were ordered to fly here by me shortly after you received your message in Rome. Both their planes disappeared off radar at 8,000 feet.” “Sabotage?” queried Harrison. “Much too coincidental to suspect otherwise,” was his superior’s reply. Mentor continued, “We have cleanup teams headed for their last known radar position, but that will take considerable time. Suspect either a time bomb or one trigger by altitude once it is armed. We can’t take any chances, Harrison. I need you on this one. Suggest you canvass Target One and maintain present altitude. Do not, I repeat, do not go below 8,000 feet.”

  Harrison’s adrenalin flowed freely once again. “Understood Mentor, was his reply. “Where is Software?” asked Harrison. “Likelihood that security has been compromised. Will discuss all circumstances surrounding Software upon your arrival,” replied the executive. The comforting voice continued, “Be careful, Harrison. Use your sixth sense and even that seventh sense of yours. Come home safe.” “Will do Mentor. Hardware out.” With that, Harrison closed the communications panel and returned to Target One’s cockpit.

  Harrison entered the cockpit and stared immediately at his altimeter. He sighed with some relief as it continued to read 10,000 feet. Harrison gazed at the other indicators to rule out even the slightest hit of tampering or sabotage. He checked the autopilot’s heading, speed and altitude one more time. He also inspected his fuel level. This was not a time to make a mental error. ‘Must keep above 8,000 feet,’ he reminded himself. Harrison decided to search the jet methodically and started at the rear of the plane. He grabbed a flashlight, left the cockpit and headed toward the back of Target One. Harrison hoped that if there was an explosive device aboard that it was inside the jet and not mounted on the external fuselage. That would be very bad news indeed. Harrison also reminded himself that the explosive device could be time-detonated and not impacted by the jet’s altitude.

  Harrison began his search by opening every panel above the seats, including the overhead storage compartments. He shined the narrow intensive beam of light into every nook and cranny visible to the naked eye. Harrison looked for any sign of an explosive device, especially extra wires mounted along the fuselage. He was quite familiar with Target One as he helped perform maintenance on her for the past five years.

  The longer that Harrison searched the queasier his feeling. ‘It should be the other way around’ he thought to himself. ‘What if I missed something?’ echoed in his mind. His thoughts turned to more personal feelings. ‘Never see Hannah again? And Pope Josetta and President Ashton?’ Harrison returned to his search and focused intently on finding something before his search’s end. Time seemed to pass quickly for Harrison. ‘Too fast’ he believed as he knew that time was not on his side. Harrison reached the front of the jet in his search, but found nothing above the seats. He turned around and looked back to where he had been. ‘Could I have missed something?’ Harrison shrugged that possibility. He knelt down and bent over as he flashed the narrow beam of light under the first row of seats. He reached under each seat with his free hand in an attempt to uncover something that felt out of place. Harrison cautiously carried out this same search pattern for the remaining five rows of seats. As he finished exploring the last row of seats, he shook his head in disbelief that he had not found any explosive device or hint of sabotage.

  Harrison next opened the floor panels near the middle row of seats that led to the small cargo hold under the belly of the jet. He pushed back cautiously each panel, feeling around the edges and underneath for anything out of the ordinary. Harrison then leaned forward causing his head to disappear below floor level. His light scanned the cargo area and revealed nothing but cobwebs. Harrison tried to remember the last time he stored equipment in the cargo hold.

  Harrison backed out of the opening of the cargo hold. He secured the panels to the opening on the floor and replaced the section of carpeting that covered the panel doors. Harrison entered the cockpit of the jet once more to check on the status of the autopilot and other instruments. He was again relieved to find that Target One was maintaining 10,000 feet and heading toward the eastern continental seaboard of the United States.

  Feeling satisfied with Target One’s autopilot performance, Harrison left the cockpit and walked into the small office where several hours earlier he learned the fate of his colleagues…his former colleagues, Scout and Eagle. ‘His former colleagues’ he thought reluctantly. He pondered momentarily whether or not he would suffer a similar fate. Harrison began his search of the office by removing the panels that hid various electronic components. He examined carefully the electronic gear paying close attention to the motherboards, wiring an
d cabling. Harrison pushed aside wires and removed components as he searched for any sort of detonating device. ‘At this pace,’ he thought to himself, ‘the search will take considerable time.’ He then mumbled in irony, ‘I hope I’ve got the time.’

  Harrison continued the cumbersome task of checking for any abnormality to his equipment. His search thus far yielded nothing except that his office was overrun with dust mites. Harrison was beginning to think that Target One was not violated and that he was safe. Or was it just a false sense of security that replaced his diminished adrenalin?

  Harrison completed the search of his private jet in less than three hours. If there was an explosive device, it was not on board. It was unsettling to Harrison that the device may be mounted to the outer hull of his jet. Will he disappear with Target One as the turbojet descended below 8,000 feet? Harrison gave some thought of inspecting Target One a second time, but decided that his initial search was a thorough one.

  Harrison sat at his desk and prepared a fax for Mentor: “Exhaustive search of Target One negative. Proceeding according to plan. Will land at alternative site. Say again, will land at alternative site. Will need transport.” Harrison decided not to throw caution to the wind if internal security was indeed compromised. Typically, he would fly into Washington Dulles International Airport in Chantilly, Virginia, but there was no sense in showing his colors if Target One survived the descent. Harrison inserted the note and pushed several buttons that automated the transmission process. The fax machine rang out with its familiar electronic signature. The note was scrambled as a matter of routine and sent to Mentor.

  Harrison returned to the cockpit. He was about six hours away from the continental United States. He planned to start his descent while still over the Atlantic. If Target One exploded at or below 8,000 feet, he did not want to endanger the innocent people below by dropping a rain of torn and twisted metal on them.