Time Frame (Split Second Book 2)

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Time Frame (Split Second Book 2) Page 31

by Douglas E. Richards


  “I agree,” said Knight. “I guess Janney is more astute than he seems.”

  “He would have to be,” said Vargas in amusement. He paused. “So how do you want to go about intercepting them?”

  “Tell me more about these Pave Hawks,” said Knight.

  “Part of an aging fleet. Being replaced. Used by special forces groups for insertions and search and rescue missions. The one we’ll be taking has been deweaponized. Good speed and range. Crew of four, including two pilots, and with enough room for a combat-equipped squad of eleven. For this trip, though, it will just be two pilots and the seven of us.”

  “Can you get the command codes for the one you’ll be taking?”

  “No question about it,” said Vargas. “There’s very little military information I can’t access. Why?”

  “With the codes, I’ll be able to take over the aircraft remotely, and kill all communications, including cell phones.”

  “Impossible. The autopilot has been specifically upgraded to prevent this kind of thing.”

  “I know,” said Knight smugly. “The scientist who came up with the upgrade was one of the many members of my Brain Trust. She was a pain in the ass, but by having one copy of her tortured to death in front of the other, she became cooperative. She created some nice technology to seize control. Again, demonstrating the benefit of being able to peel off duplicates of high-IQ scientists.”

  “And you’re certain you can do this?”

  “Positive,” replied Knight. “But I need some time to flesh out a plan. Why don’t you get me the codes while I do some thinking. I’ll call you when I’ve finished.”

  Twenty minutes later Vargas texted the requested codes, and just under an hour later, Knight called back. “I’ve worked this through,” he said. “Here’s the plan: Bring a gas mask with you when you leave tomorrow. Hide it in a rucksack or in your clothing so you can access it quickly. After I take control of your helo, I’ll divert it to a location near Loveland, Colorado, which is about a hundred and thirty miles north of Cheyenne Mountain. I’ll place a number of drones at the landing site. The instant the helo touches down and a door opens, I’ll have them shoot in some gas canisters. Very potent and fast-acting. So after landing, open a door and hold your breath. Then put on the mask. The rest of your fellow passengers will be out in seconds.”

  “Got it,” said Vargas.

  “I’ll have a pickup truck parked right next to the landing coordinates. One with an eight-foot bed and a vinyl cover you can roll up over it. The cab will be tinted so no one can see inside.”

  “Let me guess,” said Vargas. “You want me to lay Cargill and the team out in the back of the pickup and seal them inside. Turn the pickup’s bed into a steel coffin.”

  “It had better not be a coffin,” said Knight. “You’ll need to be sure they’re getting enough air to survive. I can’t get Wexler’s breakthrough from corpses.”

  “Of course,” said Vargas. “Speaking of which, what happens to the pilots? I’m not comfortable killing helpless men who have nothing to do with this.”

  “No need,” said Knight. “If they aren’t given a reversal agent, they’ll be out for eighteen hours. Just leave them.” He paused. “As for you and your Q5 cargo,” he continued, “the keys to the pickup will be on the front seat. You’ll need to drive to where a four-lane tunnel cuts through a mountain, about thirty minutes away. I’ve chosen this carefully. The tunnel doesn’t get much traffic, and doesn’t have any cameras inside. I’ll send you directions.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Once you’re close to the tunnel, I’ll have my men drive two vehicles inside. One will be the same pickup that you’re driving. The other will be the semi you were in during our first meeting, except with the time machine and furniture removed. They’ll move in just before you get there, timing it so they disrupt the flow of traffic as little as possible. When you enter the tunnel, stay to the right. I’ll make sure the semi is parked with its trailer door open and a ramp extended. Drive inside very slowly.”

  Vargas shook his head, not understanding why any of this was necessary. “Are you sure it will fit?”

  “Yes!” said Knight emphatically. “You think I’d leave that to chance? You’ll have nine inches of clearance on either side.”

  “Why such an elaborate plan?” asked Vargas. “No one has any reason to believe the helo isn’t going to Fort Riley. So no one will be following it after you take control. And the pilots will be out for eighteen hours, as you said.”

  “And when the Q5 team never arrives at Fort Riley?” said Knight.

  Vargas considered. “Yeah, I see your point,” he said. “When they fail to show, Janney will be moving heaven and earth to find out what happened to them. He’ll have his people pull transponder data, satellite footage, and street camera footage.”

  “Exactly. And when they track the helo to Loveland, the satellite history will show you moving them to the pickup.”

  “Right,” said Vargas. “Go on.”

  “While you’re pulling the pickup truck into the back of the semi,” continued Knight, “one of my men will be driving out of the other side of the tunnel in the same pickup. The intelligence people Janney tasks with finding the Q5 team will be tracing its path, thinking it’s the one you drove into the tunnel.”

  “I assume you’ve made sure it has the same license plate number as mine.”

  “What about same pickup don’t you understand?” snapped Knight. “Same pickup, same plates, same tires. It will be the pickup you’re driving—just forty-five millionths of a second older.”

  “Understood,” replied the colonel. “I didn’t know you had a time machine big enough to do that.”

  “Now you do,” said Knight simply. “Once you’ve driven into the trailer,” he continued, “my men will pull the ramp back inside, close you in, and get the hell out of the tunnel. The faster we get out of there and stop disrupting traffic, the better.”

  “Your men?” said Vargas. “Does that mean two more Jack Rourks?”

  “No it doesn’t,” said Knight irritably. “I’m down to one of him, which is how I prefer it. I haven’t just been waiting around for your calls. I’ve been recruiting scores of mercenaries, rebuilding my security team. I can copy however many men I need, but having individual soldiers is a lot less conspicuous. Good mercs aren’t hard to recruit when you’ve done it before and money is no object.”

  “So what happens after we’re all sealed up in the trailer?”

  “Unroll the cover of the pickup so our guests get plenty of air. The driver will exit the tunnel and proceed to a secluded area a few miles away, where he’ll have a car parked. He’ll give you the keys to the semi and take off. Then it’s your turn to drive. I’ll call you with directions to where I’ll be waiting for you. It might take you three or four hours to get there, but none of your passengers will awaken. Just in case, I’ll have cameras inside the trailer to monitor them, and a variety of sensors and suppressors, as well, so they can’t be tracked using their phones. Or any other method, for that matter.”

  “I assume I’ll be driving in the opposite direction from the decoy pickup truck,” said Vargas.

  “Correct. Not that it really matters. They won’t be paying any attention to the semi.”

  “How do you know I can drive a semi?” asked Vargas.

  “They train you special forces guys up right,” replied Knight. “Although I’d imagine you’re rusty.”

  “I’m sure it will come back to me,” said Vargas. He paused. “Congratulations, Edgar. Your plan is brilliant.”

  “Of course it is,” replied Knight, seemingly unaware of the arrogance of this response.

  ***

  Minutes later, Vargas was inside a Cheyenne Mountain conference room, laying out Knight’s plan to the Q5 team.

  “Impressive,” said Blake when the colonel had finished. “As much as I hate to give him any credit, he’s an excellent strategist.”


  “I’m not thrilled that we’ll all have to be knocked out,” said Cargill.

  “I don’t blame you,” said Vargas. “But at least when you come to, we’ll have Knight in custody. That should make it a little easier to stomach.”

  “Why won’t he tell you where he’ll be until you’re driving the semi?” asked Jenna.

  Vargas shrugged. “He’s a cautious man. But I’ll contact the strike team as soon as I know. And since we’re forewarned about the pickup ruse, we can also have the semi we end up in followed, just for good measure.”

  “Can I bring weapons?” asked Blake. “I can’t see why I would need them, but I’d feel better having them. Knight isn’t a man to underestimate.”

  Vargas considered. “You can, Aaron, but no one else. Remember, we’re supposed to be flying to meet with the president. It’s totally within character for you to be packing, even knowing the Secret Service will be disarming you. I’m sure you’d feel naked if you weren’t. But it would be out of character for the rest of us. At this point, even for me.”

  “I’d like to also wear that smart contact lens you brought here?” said Blake. “Along with a few of the hidden weapons it can activate? Just in case.”

  “That’s out,” said Vargas, shaking his head vigorously. “For any of us. That contact is the first thing he’ll be looking for. ”

  Blake sighed. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

  “Okay,” said Cargill. “Let’s make this happen.”

  “Just one further point,” said Vargas. “Be sure that none of you brace yourselves for the incoming gas when the helo door is about to open. You can’t give away that you know it’s coming. Knight will be watching.”

  Cargill nodded. “The president is busy at Camp David, but later tonight I’ll brief him on this. Thank you, Hank. This is coming together beautifully.”

  “Glad we ended up on the same side,” said the colonel.

  Cargill nodded. “Me too.”

  After a pause, Cargill turned to Allen and Blake. “Since we’ll all be out cold, I’d like to recommend to the president that Tom TenBrink command the operation to capture Knight, with Joe O’Bannon his second-in-command. What do you think?”

  “I think those are excellent choices,” replied Allen.

  “I agree,” said Blake.

  “Hank?” asked Cargill.

  “Weren’t these the two men who tampered with my quarters so you could abduct me?”

  “They’re very versatile,” replied Cargill with a smile.

  Vargas laughed. “Apparently so,” he said. “Other than this fine work, I’m not familiar enough with them to weigh in. But I trust your judgment.”

  “Good,” said the head of Q5, “then it’s settled. “I’ll ask them to join us.”

  Within five minutes, both had arrived in the conference room, and Vargas repeated the briefing a second time. When TenBrink and O’Bannon were up to speed and the discussion had died out, Cargill declared this part of the meeting over.

  “But before we disband,” he added, “there is one more thing I’d like to share. Something Aaron and I have been keeping to ourselves for some time now. You’ve all heard the news about the attempted assassination of Kim Jong-un. How his palace was destroyed, and how he happened to be outside of it at the time.”

  Everyone in the room nodded.

  “Well, there’s more to this than meets the eye. Much more. So let me tell you what really happened in North Korea. And the real reason the president is at Camp David right now, along with three of our people.”

  60

  Loading six unconscious bodies into the back of a pickup was a more strenuous endeavor than Vargas had anticipated, but he finally managed it. Knight had chosen his landing site well, and there was no one around to observe the colonel loading his disturbing cargo, like a psychopathic mass murderer on a weekend bender.

  So far, all had gone according to plan. Knight had taken control of the helo very soon after it was out of sight of the base, and locked the doors in place. Even so, the pilots had launched into a frenzy of activity, going to great lengths to repel the remote hijacking. When this proved impossible, they came up with a daring plan to shape a charge to blow a door off the helo so all could escape using parachutes.

  Vargas had been tempted to come clean, to tell the pilots that they wanted to be hijacked, but Cargill wouldn’t allow it. They should have known that Air Force pilots who had flown in hotbeds around the world wouldn’t take something like this lying down. Not until Vargas was finally forced to order them to do just this, much to their disgust.

  Superior officers often seemed like incompetent buffoons to those below them. Sometimes this was because they were incompetent buffoons. But other times it was because they were privy to the bigger picture, and their underlings were not.

  Vargas drove the pickup truck to the tunnel Knight had specified, and entered. Traffic was light, and he was able to pull into the back of the semi without anyone observing. A few cars entered before the semi began moving again, and honked their displeasure at having to suddenly switch lanes to avoid hitting a stationary eighteen-wheeler, inexplicably deciding to park on a road with no shoulder.

  Before Vargas knew it, the trailer stopped in an abandoned parking lot, and he peeled open the door and took over driving duties. The moment he started up the truck, he got a call from Edgar Knight, who no doubt had cameras inside the cab as well as the trailer.

  Knight’s voice was ecstatic. “That went off just as I drew it up,” he said. “You did it, Hank! You wormed your way into Q5 and pulled these bastards back out.”

  “Just remember my contributions,” said Vargas. “And how instrumental this is to your plans. I’ve held up my end of the bargain . . . ” he added, leaving the sentence hanging.

  “And I’ll hold up mine,” said Knight on cue. “Have no fear, after this success, you’re more valuable to me as a second than ever.”

  “Good,” said Vargas. “So where am I going?”

  “I’m inside the main farmhouse on the Chester Moreland Pivot Farm in Nebraska,” said Knight, “which I recently acquired. You know how much I love farming,” he added wryly.

  “What the hell is a pivot farm?” asked Vargas.

  “Has something to do with how the irrigation is done, I think,” said Vargas. “The important thing is that I’ve sent the driving directions to your phone. Like I said before, you should be here in three or four hours. I’ll be waiting.”

  “Roger that,” said the colonel, ending the connection.

  Vargas drove in silence for ten minutes before stopping at a gas station to use the facilities. He entered the bathroom, well away from any prying eyes and ears Knight might have inside the cab, and removed a second cellphone from his pocket.

  He dialed a number that allowed him to communicate with Joe O’Bannon and Tom TenBrink, whom Janney had put in command as Cargill had recommended.

  “Thought you might be calling in,” said TenBrink when Vargas announced himself. “We’ve been watching you from the sky. Just to be sure we have the right semi, can you confirm that you just stopped at a Shell gas station on Elk Mountain Road.”

  “That’s right,” said Vargas. “And I have Knight’s location,” he added triumphantly. “He’s inside the main farmhouse at the Chester Moreland Pivot Farm in Nebraska.”

  Vargas paused to text them the address. “I’m three hours and twenty minutes out. When do you think you’ll be able to commence a strike?”

  “We can mobilize our forces there fairly quickly,” replied TenBrink. “After that, timing will depend on the situation on the ground.” He paused. “That being said,” he added, “we’ll be shooting for two hours from now.”

  “Understood,” said Vargas.

  “Enjoy your drive, Colonel,” said TenBrink. “The second we have him, we’ll alert you and send a helo to your position. By the time you and your sleeping cargo make it back to Cheyenne Mountain, Knight will be wrapped up with a bow.”

&nb
sp; “Roger that,” said Vargas. “Happy hunting.”

  61

  Blake was as charged up as he had ever been. As if dodging a death sentence in North Korea hadn’t been exhilarating enough, the past few days had been as exciting, as consequential, as any he had ever experienced.

  Spending his days and nights nestled inside the presidential retreat wasn’t too bad, either.

  FDR had established the mountain retreat in 1942, situated on two hundred wooded acres of scenic land, sixty-two miles from Washington DC. Since this time, Camp David had been designated for the sole use of whichever president was in power, much like the White House. Originally named Shangri-La, Eisenhower had changed it to Camp David to honor his father. Regardless, since it was technically a military installation, its official name was the Naval Support Facility Thurmont, and it was staffed and guarded by a combination of Naval, Marine, and Secret Service personnel.

  While Blake had been given the full run of the retreat by the president, he had spent much of his time inside a labyrinthian series of offices and meeting rooms underground, which had never been disclosed to the public.

  But where he was staying was much less mind-blowing than who he was staying with.

  Along with Eric Beal and Chris Entwistle, who were in charge of interrogating the North Korean leader, the only people other than Blake allowed in the bowels of the retreat—the only people to know that Kim Jong-un was imprisoned there—were the president, his Secretary of Defense, Kate Johnson, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Gary Herman.

  Heady company, indeed. And Johnson and Herman had no idea a kettle was now also housed under Camp David, nor that there was more than one Kim Jong-un being interrogated there.

 

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