Legacy: An Event Group Thriller

by David L. Golemon

  It had been hit at an altitude of only eighty feet, but instead of auto-rotating when the loss of engine power dictated, Marine One came straight down and struck the street a quarter mile from the White House. Police helicopters were close by and their powerful spotlights illuminated the scene from almost two hundred feet away. The large Sikorsky struck the street and slid almost sixty feet into a median in the center of a wide thoroughfare. It hit the concrete rise and bounced, sending the green and white Marine One back into the air before it slammed down on its side sending the remaining rotors flying in all directions. Three cars were struck and the heavy aircraft spun them around into each other as the aluminum started to spark from the friction of the roadway.

  The police helicopters never hesitated. They dove for the tragic scene below without regard to the power lines that crisscrossed the area. Motorists, seeing what had happened, snapped out of their paralysis faster than anyone could have believed as many rushed from cars and houses, office buildings and fast food restaurants. They all ran for the burning Marine One.

  Most of the tragedy was caught live on CNN. All but the final result was broadcast live all around the world along with the frantic calls of the police helicopters.

  “Marine One is down!”

  The panicked rescuers were trying desperately to get inside as a U.S. Army Black Hawk helicopter sat down hard on the street beside the burning wreckage.

  One of the only people who had not witnessed the attempted assassination of the president of the United States was climbing into a cab she had finally managed to flag down six blocks from the launch point of the Stingers.

  Laurel Rawlins had the shakes, but the smile was still etched across her face. She knew her father would be proud and he would look on her favorably as a worthy successor to his vast fortune. She would take up the mantle of God’s messenger, only her message would be quite different from her father’s. Hers would be one of hope, and reconciliation.

  She knew that this could only come about if all traces of Operation Columbus were removed from the mines, something her grandfather should have done many years before, and her father when he learned of the excavation many years after.

  Her next target would be in Ecuador, and she knew her father may not approve, but by that time his approval might not be as important as it once was. She had to get that technology from the buried second gallery where it was suspected the real wealth was buried. She knew from her father and grandfather that the Germans, for reasons unknown, had sealed that portion of the mine and never gone back in. Her father explained once that they had been spooked by something inside, and if the German army was afraid of its contents, Laurel Rawlins knew she had to have it.

  The driver looked at the pretty face of the woman in his backseat and wondered why her smile actually broadened as the cab turned off to National Airport.

  * * *

  For a full hour, reports of the assassination attempt filled every television screen across the land. Americans didn’t know if the president was alive or dead. The presidential physician was on duty at Georgetown Medical Center and so the U.S. Army Black Hawk helicopter was diverted there instead of to Walter Reed. A thousand reporters waited outside for word on the president’s condition.

  9

  KENNEDY SPACE CENTER, CAPE CANAVERAL, FLORIDA

  It was only four hours before Sarah, Will, and Jason were due to suit up. Their flight commander was an Air Force colonel by the name of Arthur Kendal, in command not only of the three Event Group personnel, but of the six other men who had been assigned to the backup crew of the Atlas platform, and he was anxious to see if his crew would become a viable part of America’s return to space.

  The crew would be lifted into the sky and delivered to the International Space Station by the Space Shuttle Atlantis if their mission became necessary. While they waited at the dinner table where they had been served a steak, Sarah watched one of the three monitors inside the cafeteria. One was on CNN and the others were static views of the launch pads out west at Vandenberg and in Florida at the Cape, where the giant Atlas stood like an ancient monolith, waiting to see if it would be called upon to serve America one last time.

  The two Ares systems were ready at Vandenberg in California. Their two crews of ten would be lifted into orbit and delivered to the space station by the shuttles Endeavour and Discovery. All eyes were watching CNN for news out of Washington. For Sarah, Mendenhall, and Ryan, the news had hit particularly hard because they knew the man who had just been shot from the sky and they also knew that the president’s best friend in the entire world was their very own boss, Niles Compton. As they watched, the coverage broke away from the hospital to the CNN news desk in Atlanta.

  “This just in. The FBI has issued a statement detailing the arrest warrants for James McCabe, a former U.S. Army Lieutenant colonel, wanted in the questioning of not only the event tonight in Washington, but for the explosions in Berlin, Germany, that claimed 107 lives, and the attack in French Guiana that claimed another thirty. McCabe has been under investigation for several days now and is known to have ties to fundamentalist movements around the world. The FBI has refused to answer questions about how they came to their conclusions about McCabe, stating only that they have substantial evidence of his involvement.”

  Sarah studied the picture of McCabe, an ordinary-looking man who appeared to be an accountant and not a former Special Operations officer in the same army in which she was serving. She looked over at Ryan and Mendenhall, who, like herself, had not eaten anything since they sat down.

  “I wonder if Jack had something to do with the FBI getting this information.”

  Ryan knew none of them had been informed as to what the colonel was up to. They hadn’t heard anything about him or Everett since their arrest in Berlin. He reached out and took Sarah’s hand.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised a bit. But for right now, even though it’s a long shot, we better start getting our heads on straight. We’re looking at a shuttle launch in just four hours.”

  “I hope those missions out west get a good start, I really don’t care for the idea of all those air miles.” Mendenhall was trying his best to shake out some of the tension in the room.

  “Dark Star 3, it’s time to report to briefing and dress out.”

  The mission coordinator nodded his head as ten faces looked up at him standing in the doorway. Each man and woman was left for a moment with their private thoughts about what could possibly be facing them. The spell of silence was broken when mission commander Kendal rose from his chair and looked around the room at his nine people.

  “I guess there’s no really good time for speeches. The crash course training we all went through has shown me your capabilities, either in the air or on the lunar surface. You may have noticed I used the terminology indicating we will be a go for launch. All of you from this moment forward should assume we are going. The systems used for all three launches are experimental, and as you know nothing in real life ever plays out like a Hollywood script—there will be failures. Therefore, we will be launching simultaneously with our platform, Dark Star 3. Now, let’s get our game faces on and move out to briefing. Regardless of the fate of our commander in chief, I am informed by Houston that we are a definite go for mission launch.”

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX, NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  Niles Compton was alone with his thoughts. The staff of the Event Group made sure the director was left that way for as long as he wanted. After Niles had issued his report to the FBI and the National Security Agency concerning what they had discovered about the dealings of James McCabe and Samuel Rawlins, Niles had retreated to his office and had not come out for three hours. For the time being he was looking through the very thin file compiled by Europa on the personages of Lieutenant Colonel James McCabe and the Reverend Samuel Rawlins. As much as Niles was worried about the fate of his best friend the president, his mind was still unable to wade through that worry. He was reading everything he could
on the activities of the two men suspected of being behind the recent terrorist activity.

  Compton reached for a cup of coffee that was an hour old as he wondered about the reasoning behind the delay concerning the questioning of Rawlins. He knew there was no direct evidence of his involvement outside of what Jack had uncovered in Germany and he knew that theory alone wasn’t even a cold gun, much less a smoking one, but still it was certain in Niles’s thinking that it did warrant at least talking to the arrogant bastard. That alone might persuade him to cease whatever illegal activities he had planned. Thus far only McCabe had been listed as a suspect. Niles took a drink of the cold coffee and grimaced, then placed the cup and the file down in frustration over his inability to call and check on the status of the president. His phone buzzed as one of his assistants called from the outer office. Niles swallowed and tried his best to check his nerves, then he reached for the intercom.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Sir, Alice Hamilton is on line one.”

  “Thank you,” Niles said and picked up the phone. “Alice, is the senator all right?”

  “Niles, with all that’s going on right now, it’s thoughtful of you to ask—and, yes, he’s doing as well as can be expected. That’s why I’m calling at such a horrible time. He wanted me to say he was sorry, as I am, about what happened. We know you and the president are close.”

  “Thank you, but I wish you wouldn’t worry about me. You have more than enough to occupy your mind right now. Take care of him, I just couldn’t face—” Niles started to say the deaths of two dear friends at one time, but checked himself. “—well, you know.”

  “I do, and we will. One thing I want to ask of you before I let you go. I know you have more of a full plate than ever before, especially with the space launch tonight on both coasts, but could you let us know where Jack is?”

  “Jack? Why, he’s in Ecuador. I think you know where.”

  “That’s what Garrison suspected.”

  “Hey, wait a minute, he’s not thinking anything foolish is he? I mean, even using what little strength he has thinking about helping the colonel, well, it’s out of the question. You tell him I said to stop thinking for once in his life and rest.”

  “You, more than anyone, know better than that. That would be like telling the current director of the Event Group to stop, slow down, and relax, especially with people he commands standing on dangerous ground or heading into harm’s way.”

  For the first time in hours, Niles had to smile. His lips trembled as he placed a hand on his forehead and rubbed. He took the briefest of moments to gather his composure until he found he could trust his voice again.

  “Okay, Jack’s with a German commando team in Ecuador. He’s in the process of getting Captain Everett out of jail, and then he will continue his mission to find what Columbus is truly all about.”

  “Thank you, dear. Now you go do that magic stuff you always do so well.”

  “Listen, Alice, you take care of that—”

  Compton found he was speaking to an empty line as Alice had hung up. He placed the phone alongside his head and lowered his eyes to the desktop. He was about to hang the phone up when the intercom buzzed again, making him jump. He wanted to throw the phone across the room.

  “Yes,” he said, far louder than he intended to.

  “Sir, priority video communication.”

  “What?” he said, shocked, as the only priority VIDCOM would come from the president. He slammed the phone down and hit a switch on his desktop. The video monitor slid out of the mahogany top. The screen went from blue to the presidential seal. Niles swallowed and then stood so fast that his chair slid back and slammed into the wall. The next face he saw was bandaged on the left side, and there was a swelling to his jaw and his left eye was blackened and nearly swollen shut—but it was the president of the United States staring at him.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Niles looked away for the briefest of moments. He then smiled and with his eyes welling up he faced his old friend.

  “I’m still not sure I’m not seeing a ghost. It looks like you’ve been cruising South Beach after midnight.”

  The president laughed and then stopped as suddenly as he started. “Ouch, don’t make me laugh. The doctor says I have a hairline fracture of the jaw.”

  Niles did laugh. “That will undoubtedly make the first lady extremely happy.”

  “She is. Now listen, baldy, I haven’t a lot of time. It seems they all want to parade me in front of the hospital window to prove I’m not among the deceased. Collins, is he all right and in Ecuador?”

  “Yes, sir, he is on the ground and they’re cooking something up to get Captain Everett. Then they plan on getting into that old mine.”

  “It doesn’t look like it will be in time to stop these space shots. We have to go through with this because we can’t allow anything from the surface of the Moon to fall into China’s hands, or at least the current Chinese government. The Western powers need the technology up there. Niles, as a friend, tell me we’re not sending these people off on a mission that’s doomed from the start.”

  Niles paused and then looked deeply into the small monitor.

  “The best engineers in the world say this mission has a better than seventy percent chance of succeeding. The variables, however, have changed since the planning stages. In case you hadn’t noticed, there are some individuals out there with a different agenda.”

  The president touched the side of his head and jaw. “I have come to that realization, ass.”

  “I’m positive this maniac that’s been blasting you on his broadcasts is behind all of these assaults on launches. He’s behind the theft of Columbus and the attempt to kill you. He’s not going to stop until we stop him. Arrest the son of a bitch. Maybe this McCabe will see that he’s not going to be paid for his services and stop before he shoots down more good people.”

  “Thanks, baldy, I needed to hear it from your mouth. I’ve already instructed the FBI to take him in. Now go relax and see if we can get some people back to the Moon.”

  Niles found that all he could do was nod his head. The picture on the screen went back to blue as he removed his glasses. He reached back and retrieved his chair. He sat down hard and placed his hands over his eyes. He sat up and took a deep breath, then made a decision. He would take the president’s advice for once. He stood and walked from the office. His mood had shifted dramatically in the past minute as he strode to the elevator. He called out to his four assistants.

  “I’ll be in Las Vegas. I’m going to watch the space launches with Dr. Pollock. I won’t be back tonight. Patch all calls concerning the launch and Colonel Collins through to my cell phone.”

  The assistants watched their director leave the office and were glad to see the fire back in his eyes and the confidence back in his gait.

  GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY MEDICAL CENTER, WASHINGTON, D.C.

  The phone was brought in while the president was being poked and prodded by three different physicians. Two of them he was sure were not even out of medical school yet. He had already made an appearance at the window, closely hemmed in by no fewer than six Secret Service agents, and then had made a sorrowful call to the families of the agents who had lost their lives in the attack, and to the widow of his national security advisor. Now he was about to do something he never thought he would do—make a plea for sanity to the chairman of the People’s Republic of China.

  “Mr. Chairman,” the president said once the connection had been made. He looked over at the secretary of state, who was listening in with the official interpreter. The secretary waited for the chairman to speak to verify it was truly he on the phone.

  The conversation started out in Chinese and then the interpreter translated. The secretary of state nodded his head—it was indeed the seventy-nine-year-old chairman on the other end.

  “Mr. President, it is so very good to hear your voice, and to learn that you are safe. You have t
he wishes of good health from myself and the people of my nation.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chairman. It is very kind of you to say and to accept my call at this very late hour.”

  “Not at all, I was awakened for the spectacular double launch your nation has planned. You can call it a natural curiosity on my part to see if the same evil befalls an American attempt as it has so many others in the past few days.”

  The president caught the innuendo, one that in political speak fell just short of an accusation. He chose to move forward instead of arguing with the old chairman.

  “Mr. Chairman, I have called to express my sincere desire for a more cooperative approach to what has happened on the surface of the Moon. As you have seen, the attacks on all nations attempting this endeavor have met with a force of unknown assailants that will stop at nothing to see that we all fail.”

  The American interpreter voiced the president’s words and then there was a long silence on the other end of the line.

  “Mr. President, I see no reason for my nation to be bullied by the West. I am afraid those days are long past. We do not frighten as easily as you may think. Our spacecraft, the Magnificent Dragon, is well on its way. Once the landing has been accomplished, I see no reason why we cannot be cooperative in the findings of the mission. However, I must insist that our mission to the lunar surface not be interfered with by any nation, just as your monopoly of space was ignored by my own for so many years.”

  “Speaking man-to-man, Mr. Chairman, I find the situation had started out wrong. I truly wish for—”

  The interpreter looked embarrassed as the leader of the People’s Republic cut the president short.