by Chuck Black
Drew held the paper up and tapped for Alice to record the numbers. He gave the paper back to Ward and nodded.
Captain Bates entered the conference room. “Mr. President, we have secured Camp David. All UN forces have been contained and are being held in the field house for now. No communication was made that we are aware of.”
“Well done, Captain,” President Harden said.
“It’s going to be difficult keeping this under wraps,” Ward said, looking at Drew.
“We just have to keep this quiet for forty-eight hours,” Drew replied. “Alice, break radio silence. Tell Ben to assemble the team immediately.”
He inwardly cringed as he considered that the fate of America was in the hands of five computer geeks with video-game nicknames. He didn’t even know their real names.
“Alice, call Jake,” Drew commanded. “Director Ward, I need aerial access to Camp David. A chopper will be coming for me shortly.”
“Done,” Ward said.
“Oh yes, and I need an open account for expenses.”
Ward looked to the president.
“Wire fifty million to his account, Jim,” the president said, then looked at Drew. “Give Director Ward your account info, and if you need more, let him know.” He looked at Director Ward. “If by some miracle we can put down this attack, how are we going to fix this?”
Drew felt his anger rising. Here was a man who had just handed the nation over to terrorists and he was worried about fixing it? “Fix this, sir?” He clenched his teeth. “I don’t see how this can be ‘fixed.’ The American people deserve the truth—all of it.”
Harden looked fiercely at Drew. “The people are too ignorant to be able to handle the truth, Carter. You do your job, and let me worry about governing the people.”
Drew quelled his rising anger and tried to focus on the challenge of saving three hundred million people. “Yes sir,” he replied slowly.
Ward went to the far end of the conference room to arrange airspace and money on his secure cell phone.
President Harden stood up and looked Drew in the eye. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Pull this off, son, and you’ll be a hero.” His gaze turned ice cold. “Don’t fail me.”
“I understand, Mr. President,” Drew said. And he did.
“What’s going on, Drew?” Jake’s voice sounded in the earpiece.
“Jake, I need a chopper to pick me up immediately.”
“Okay. Where?”
“Camp David. I’ll be at the field house in ten minutes.”
There was only silence on Jake’s end.
“Jake?”
“Are you messing with me, Drew?” Jake asked.
“I wish I were. You have airspace clearance. Get here fast, Jake, and bring Sydney and Mick.”
Ward returned. “It’s all arranged.”
“Good.”
The president, Director Ward, Captain Bates, and Drew went to the front entrance of Laurel Lodge. There were no less than eight Marines inside with weapons drawn and ready.
Drew turned to Captain Bates. “Well done, Captain. You and your men have served this nation well tonight.”
Bates saluted Drew. “My honor, sir.”
Drew looked at Ward. “Director, I also need Agent Thomas Reed flown into LaGuardia Airport in an hour.”
Ward nodded. “Keep me informed, Agent Carter. I want to know what’s going on.”
Drew’s anger seethed again as he thought of Ross and the other nameless agents who had died at this man’s hand. He glared at the director. “Unless I need something, I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
Drew got into the Marines’ Humvee and closed the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ward lean toward the president.
“You ready, sir?” the Marine sergeant asked.
The director whispered something to the president.
“Almost, sergeant,” Drew said.
The president’s lips moved in response, but his words were lost behind the reinforced glass and the sound of the diesel engine.
“I’m ready, Sarge.”
During the ten-minute ride to the Camp David field house, Drew put on his sunglasses again and tapped out a command to Alice inside his pocket. Replay video, sixty seconds, three o’clock camera.
He found the time frame just as Ward began to speak and zoomed in on his lips. Interpret, he commanded Alice. In her soft English accent, she spoke the words of Director Ward.
“We’re going to have trouble with him.”
Then of President Harden. “We’ll deal with him when it’s over. I will fix this.”
Validus and his team escorted Carter to the field house, keeping close and alert. Validus clenched his teeth as he thought of the near-fatal mistake that had just been made. His team had narrowly escaped dissolution themselves. Four of his men had been wounded but not seriously. With Apollyon this close, everyone should have seen this coming—Brandt, Malak, and especially himself. He vowed such a thing would never happen again.
The entire team sensed his frustration and anger. No one said a word, and not a single sword was sheathed the rest of the evening.
When they arrived at the field house, Validus watched Carter pace, knowing his mind was screaming through the strategies and scenarios necessary to pull off the impossible mission before him.
At one point he stopped and looked up at Validus. His eyes filled with deep concern. He almost looked afraid. “Is this possible?” he whispered.
Validus had found it necessary to rally thousands of warriors to significant battles in centuries past, but now he was at a loss as to how to encourage this one solitary man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He could not deny the pangs of sympathy in his heart for Carter, but what could he say? The future was not set.
Persimus came to stand next to Validus. “All he needs is the confidence of a commander, Validus,” he said quietly.
Validus looked Carter straight in the eye, filling his gaze with a fiery resolve, then nodded. One by one, Validus’s valiant warriors came to stand beside him, swords drawn and jaws set firm.
Validus saw Carter’s fear dissolve away as the blue flames of Ruach Elohim spilled from his soul.
27
THE TEAM
Drew ran to the chopper and jumped into the cabin. Sydney reached for him as he took the seat next to her. She grabbed his hand and held on as if he might disappear at any moment. Drew wrapped an arm around her.
“Thank the Lord you’re okay,” she said as the door closed and the blades spun up.
He hugged her tighter and turned his lips to her ear. “Whatever happens, Sydney, I want you to know that I love you. I always have.”
Drew felt her hand on his neck and cheek. She didn’t reply, but he didn’t expect her to. It was much too soon. He just didn’t know what the next forty-eight hours might hold and didn’t want to miss the chance to tell her.
As the chopper lifted, he released Sydney and reached for the seat belt. He looked at Jake. “LaGuardia, as fast as this thing can fly. Once there, we need to become invisible.”
Jake nodded. “I’ll arrange it.” He clicked on his headset and relayed the destination to the pilot, then looked back at Drew.
Drew marveled at how much he could tell Jake with just a look. It was just a natural part of their relationship, and it developed the first time they camped together. It was a connection that allowed no secrets, even when there was one. The details would come later, but with a glance, Jake knew the gravity of the situation. With one hand, Drew subtly signaled the number five. It was Jake’s method within Fortress to silently relay the threat level of a situation. From a thumbs-up, meaning “all clear,” to a three, meaning “many will die.” Jake stared at Drew’s hand—Mick saw it too.
While en route, Drew had Alice send a coded message; then he called Ben. “Ben, get your team ready for a briefing, and if you have any processor or mainframe upgrades you were planning, now’s the time, and cost is no factor. You just
need to have it ready in two hours.”
“I just got a data upload from your mobile Alice. Is what I’m seeing real, Drew?” Ben asked.
“I’m afraid so, partner.”
“We’ll be ready,” Ben replied.
An hour and a half later, they picked up Reed at LaGuardia Airport, then flew to the top level of a vacant parking garage. A utility van was waiting for them. One more clandestine vehicle change and they were inside NexTech thirty minutes later in downtown New York City.
Just over two hours after leaving Camp David, Drew, Sydney, Jake, Mick, Reed, Ben, Piper, Crypt, Ridge, and Jester were gathered in the NexTech Blue Room. Also present were Validus and three other angels. Drew noticed that other angelic forces were positioned on the roof and throughout the building. In the midst of impending doom, their presence was comforting, especially now that he knew who they were and Whom they represented.
“How we doing?” Drew asked Ben.
“Upgrades complete and Alice is running at peak performance. And we have an additional fifty million in our account,” Ben said with a smile.
“Good. When she connects with the government systems, can you hide our location? I want to keep our base of operation off their radar.”
“I can for a while,” Ben said, “but the longer we’re connected, the greater the chance of them finding us. I’ll give Alice some additional encrypting and masking routines. She might be able to hide for a couple of days.”
“That should be all we need,” Drew said as he slapped Ben’s shoulder.
“Ah…Chider, we’ve got someone lurking around our south entrance near the service door,” Ridge called from one of the work stations. “Looks fishy to me.”
Drew looked at the monitor. “I’ve got this. Unlock the door once I get there.”
A few minutes later Drew returned with a middle-aged woman wrapped in drab clothes, but there was nothing drab about her eyes or personality. When they entered the Blue Room, Drew noticed Ben and his crew had gathered together. Jake, Mick, and Reed were talking, and Sydney was standing at the table by herself, eyes ever on him. The woman with Drew took off her coat, went to Sydney, and introduced herself.
Drew wasn’t sure how to even begin to explain what he had commissioned them to do—save the United States of America. He heard conversations from the three groups as if he were standing next to them.
Crypt: “So why are we here in the middle of the night, and why is your friend acting like he’s all in charge of everything?”
Piper: “And what’s with the dudes with the guns? They scare me. Is this some sort of government takeover?”
Woman: “Pleased to meet you. I’m Sarah.”
Jake: “I’m sorry, Mick, you know how tight a cover has to be. I’m not even sure what agency he’s with.”
Reed: “I had no idea he was still involved until an old contact from the Farm told me he needed help and that I should talk to you guys.”
Ridge: “I seriously don’t think Mr. Allen is going to like this middle-of-the-night thing happening. What’s going on, Chider?”
Mick: “I knew there was something more to him. I just don’t like not knowing, Jake.”
Ben: “Don’t worry about Mr. Allen. I can take care of him.”
Drew scanned the room, but this time not for “invaders.” He looked at each of the people he had called to this epic moment in time and realized that he had lived a life of deception with every single one of them and that each one believed a different story. How could he keep the lies straight, let alone get them all to work together as a team?
Then a gentle message penetrated his thoughts. Just be honest with them. It was Sydney’s soothing voice.
The woman had gone to get a cup of coffee, and Sydney was looking at him again. Drew was warmed by her strength and smile. She seemed to know his thoughts. He nodded, then stepped to the head of the table.
“Everybody, please gather around,” he began. Within a few seconds, all eyes were on him. “You all have a lot of questions, questions that deserve answers. The problem is that I can’t answer all of them because time is short and people’s lives are on the line. I have deceived each of you in one way or another, but I need you to trust me even though I haven’t earned it.” He stopped and looked at each face. “So let me at least set a few things straight and hopefully start to gain your trust. I have been working for the CIA for the last three and a half years and as a nonofficial cover agent for the past year. I recently discovered an Islamic terrorist threat that has the potential to wipe out the entire United States. The president has commissioned us to eliminate that threat.”
Jester snorted, then fell silent as he realized Drew wasn’t kidding and no one else was laughing.
Drew continued. “At Camp David, terrorists succeeded in killing many agents and nearly took out the president and the director of National Intelligence because of the intel I had gathered and presented on the Islamic Global Alliance. With the corruption that has leeched into our government and with the infiltration of Islamic extremists into some of the highest offices, the president has had no choice but to hand over this mission to us.” Drew held out his hands, gesturing to everyone in the room. He let his words settle for a few seconds.
“I can’t make this sound any less dramatic than it is—standing in this room is America’s only hope for survival. Allow me to give each of you a brief introduction to the rest of the team.” Drew motioned toward Jake. “Jake Blanchard is the president of Fortress Security, a company with decades of military combat experience. The US government has contracted Fortress Security to handle some extremely delicate and dangerous missions in the last few years. Mick Trotter is Jake’s East Coast division commander in York, Pennsylvania.
“Agent Thomas Reed is a current CIA asset. I’ve asked him to be part of this team because he’s the only one in service I fully trust.
“Now for the tech team.” Drew looked at Ben. His friend nodded his approval of what Drew was about to reveal. “Ben, aka Chider, and his tech team, Crypt, Ridge, Piper, and Jester, are the genius behind NexTech, a technology company that is second to none in state-of-the-art technology advancements. What none of you know”—Drew hesitated, but there would be no way to hide it over the course of the next two days—“is that Ben is not only the genius behind the company…he is the company. With money that we acquired in previous years, Ben secretly launched NexTech by hiring all personnel, including upper management, casting the vision, setting priorities, and orchestrating projects to put NexTech at the frontline of the industry. In short, Ben and I own NexTech.”
Everyone turned to look at Ben with shock on their faces, including Sydney. Piper’s eyes lit up, then diminished to disbelief. Ben flashed a brief smile.
Crypt threw his hands in the air. “Okay, the charade is up.” He pointed his finger at Drew. “You are crazy, I don’t know who these goons with the guns are, we still don’t know who the bag lady is supposed to be, and you”—Crypt pointed at Ben—“Chider, you’re just as nuts as he is. I’m out of here. I need to get some sleep before work tomorrow.” He turned to leave.
“Alice, have you finished uploading the video from Witness?” Drew asked.
Crypt stopped at the door.
“Yes, Drew,” Alice responded.
“Play 360 video beginning at 8:15 this evening.”
The four seventy-inch screens, one on each wall, sprang to life with images captured by Drew’s jacket at Camp David. The occupants of the Blue Room became Drew as each monitor gave its seamless view of events that occurred just hours earlier. Dougherty held the gun to President Harden’s head. Director Ward sat in his chair with a look of horror on his face. On another screen, Ross was on the ground, wincing in pain as blood pooled on the floor beneath him. The only face not visible was Drew’s. Perfectly clear audio filled the room.
“Save your breath, Harden,” Dougherty was saying. “They’re dead. And the agents guarding your lovely wife, son, and daughter are mine. If y
ou don’t do exactly as I say, I will have them killed right now.”
Drew let the events in the Laurel Lodge conference room play out for five minutes. “Alice, stop video.”
The monitors went blank. The truth and severity of the moment hung in the air as Drew’s team continued to stare at the black screens. Crypt silently returned to stand beside Ben.
Drew motioned toward the woman. “This is Senator Sarah Boyd from Oklahoma. She and five other members of Congress are part of a secret coalition called the Patriots. They enlisted Director Ross, the man who died tonight, to investigate the IGA’s association with terrorist activities in the US, as well as high-level officials in the government, who are working with the IGA, to manipulate policies that would destroy our freedoms and national sovereignty.”
Crypt swallowed hard. “Beg your forgiveness, ma’am.”
“Not necessary,” Senator Boyd said. “I’ve been called a lot worse than a bag lady.”
Drew looked at Sydney, and she shook her head. She clearly felt out of place, but little did she know how important her role would be.
“This is Sydney Carlyle.”
Sydney lifted a timid hand and waved, clearly embarrassed.
“Sydney has a master’s degree in microbiology. You will soon understand the necessity for her expertise.”
Sydney’s hand slowly fell. She looked at Drew, confused.
“In approximately”—Drew looked at his watch. It was just after 1:00 a.m.—“forty-seven hours, over one hundred suicide bioterrorists will inject themselves with the live Ebola virus in order to infect the largest cities in the US. All of them work at restaurants where they can directly infect the greatest number of people possible before they are discovered. Sydney, what will be the consequences if this terrorist attack is successful?”