by Chuck Black
Her gaze hardened. “Why should I believe you?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a two-terabyte solid-state USB drive. He held it up. “Because of this. Last night I thwarted an assassination attempt on the president of the United States, and right now I have less than forty-five hours to stop the largest terrorist attack ever plotted against our country. If this isn’t handled properly, what I’m about to give you will either sign my death warrant or will be instrumental in restoring the freedoms we once believed in and are about to lose.”
Bryant smiled and Drew knew he had lost her. It was too much, but he didn’t have time to break it to her in pieces that she could digest slowly. He held the drive out for her to take anyway. She was his only hope.
She reached for it, one eyebrow raised. “Well, you certainly are dramatic.” She flipped the drive in her hand as if it were an interesting but unimportant obscure item she had just lifted from the street to inspect. “People like you don’t exist,” she said, looking once more into his eyes. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that many have died to get this information.”
Drew’s eyes narrowed. “Sophia, it’s going to take you some time to get through that drive, but don’t delay—time is short. When you’re done…” He hesitated. He was asking her to sacrifice just as much as anyone else who had been caught up in this web of global corruption. “You’re going to have to make a choice. I just hope you have the courage to make the right one, because by handing that information to you, I just broke the law, and if you choose to report any of it, you will be breaking the law too. Unfortunately, you and I have been put in positions where we must choose the higher ground and pay the consequences to save others.”
Drew held her gaze for a few seconds, then reached for the door handle. He stepped out of the car, then leaned down and looked in at Bryant. She was still holding the drive, gazing at it.
“I chose you because you’re smart and the people trust you. Thanks for meeting me.” He stood and closed the door, then turned and walked away.
—
“Alice, how many terrorists have been identified?” Drew asked as he headed back toward NexTech.
“Seven terrorists have been identified and located. Would you like them displayed?”
“Yes.”
Drew’s glasses filled with a map of the USA showing seven blinking red dots with names attached to them.
“Call Reed.” After a few seconds, Reed answered. “Reed, Alice has already ID’d seven terrorists. What’s your ETA back to NexTech so we can get our men moving with the RFIDs?” Drew asked.
“Ward has the tags waiting for me, so I can have them to NexTech in two hours.”
“We’ll have a chopper waiting for you at the airport. I think the National Institutes of Health may prove difficult to work with in getting that virus, so we won’t wait for Sydney and Jake.”
“Roger that,” Reed said. “We should be able to get the tags on their way to Fortress within the hour. Your men should be able to deploy to the first few targets in three to four hours.”
—
At 5:13 a.m., Reed arrived at NexTech with the RFID tags. Ben and his team had the tags programmed and coded for Alice to track thirty minutes later.
After dropping Reed back off at Teterboro Airport to catch a charter back to Langley, Drew took the chopper straight to Fortress East in York, Pennsylvania. As soon as he arrived, he briefed his men and began deploying them to the identified terrorist targets.
Over the course of the next twelve hours, Jake’s men had tagged nineteen of the terrorists without being discovered. And of the thirty-eight previously identified terrorists, Alice had successfully located and was now tracking twenty-seven of the targets using facial recognition and the planted RFIDs. Just after 6:00 p.m. on the evening of September 4, the targets began to move. Ben’s team was able to predict four infection locations, or zero points, just as Drew had determined from the intel—New York, Louisiana, Colorado, and California. Each zero point looked geographically placed so that terrorists from all parts of the country could access one of the four without having to travel more than seven hundred miles.
What concerned Drew was that each of the zero points had been pinpointed to rural farms, which was completely unexpected. He began to wonder if there was a flaw in their strategy. As it was, they proceeded as planned. Fortress West would take California, Fortress Central would take Colorado and Louisiana, and Fortress East would take New York.
Under extreme protest and after a personal phone call from President Harden, the National Institutes of Health allowed Sydney to procure a sample of the Ebola virus. The stipulation was just as she suspected—an accompanying scientist who was level 4 certified and a containment chamber that looked like the outer casing of a nuclear bomb. Jake and six fully armed guards accompanied Sydney and the scientist. The acquisition, transportation, and delivery of the virus to NexTech were completed under extreme secrecy.
By the morning of September 5, detonation day, Sydney and Ben successfully isolated the speed of light that categorized the Ebola virus. By the time Ben and his team finished constructing the Ebola-tuned glasses, they were only two hours behind schedule.
Thirty minutes later, Sydney was on a Cessna Citation X to hand deliver a set of glasses each to Fortress Central and West divisions. When she arrived at Fortress West in California at 2 p.m., Jake set up a videoconference with Fortress East and Fortress Central so that Sydney could brief all members of the assault teams on the use of the glasses and how to protect themselves from exposure and infection.
Drew addressed them first. “Men, you have to assume that every terrorist is already infected with Ebola, which makes them deadly both to you and to thousands of others. Our goal is to capture, but if they attack, take them out before they get close to you. If they run—” Drew stopped. The thought of shooting someone in the back as they were fleeing was almost incomprehensible. “They are running to kill thousands and thousands of US citizens. You must shoot to kill. None can escape. Sydney?”
Sydney filled the screen. Drew was proud of her—so intelligent, so gutsy.
“The Ebola virus is one of the most deadly viruses we have discovered. It is not airborne but is passed through all types of bodily fluid. Therefore keep all your skin covered at all times, especially your hands and face. If you come in contact with a terrorist or any sweat, blood, or urine, you must consider yourself contaminated for the safety of the rest of your men. Put on the red armband so they know your status. You will be quarantined as ‘high risk’ by the CDC when they arrive. Everyone else will also be quarantined simply for the safety of the populace until they can guarantee you have not been infected.”
Jake jumped in. “We don’t expect armed resistance, as it would be highly unlikely that they would have risked acquiring weapons once inside our borders. However, we will still handle this as we would any other terrorist armed threat. Are there any questions?”
There were no questions from the ninety-six soldiers that made up the four assault teams.
“Okay, men. Load up,” Jake ordered.
The videoconference terminated, but Drew immediately got a call from Sydney.
“It’s all working just as you planned,” Sydney said, trying to encourage him.
“Yeah…too well.”
“What do you mean?”
“No mission this complicated ever goes this smooth,” Drew said, then realized that he didn’t need to add to her worry. “But perhaps God is working things out for our benefit. There’s a lot at stake here.”
“Well, you have thousands praying for you.” Sydney’s voice was strong, but Drew could hear the worry between her words. “You be careful, you hear?”
Drew smiled. “I promise. Then I’m going to ask you out on a proper date when you get back here.”
“And I’ll say yes.”
“I’ve gotta go, Syd. I’ll be in touch when this is over and get you on a flight back here tomorrow.”
Ten minutes later, Drew, Jake, and their assault team were loaded up into three choppers and flying northeast toward their zero point. Out the windows of the chopper, Drew could see an armada of angels, and he imagined the same held true for each of the teams now deploying to each of the other three zero points. There were thousands upon thousands of angelic warriors in the sky around them, but Drew had to stay focused on the world of men for the next few hours so he could effectively lead this team.
Drew tried once again to grasp the logic of the terrorists meeting in rural farmhouses when their goal was to infect large, densely populated cities. The infection could have easily been accomplished in an apartment in downtown New York. As it was, the unfortunate owners of this rural upstate New York farm were probably dead. The nearest neighboring farm was over a mile and a half away.
At 11:45 p.m., Drew made a call to the county sheriff’s office, explaining the operation and directing them to set up a five-mile radius quarantine. Drew followed with a command to Alice.
“Alice, relay coordinates of all four zero points and mission brief to Director Ward, the CDC, the FBI, the CIA, the NSA, and Homeland Security.”
By 11:50, Drew and Jake had positioned six-man teams on each quadrant of the farmhouse at a distance of two hundred and fifty yards. The call sign to be used was Posse. Drew, as the commander of the entire assault team, was Posse Boss.
A north-south road separated the cleared farmhouse land from thick forest to the east. Drew and his men, Posse East, had positioned themselves just across this road, seventy-five feet east of the farmhouse. From there, Drew could manage the whole operation. Fifty feet to the southwest of the farmhouse was a large steel Quonset building that gave ample cover for Posse South to approach from that direction. Jake and his men, Posse West, were positioned in a small grove of trees. There were also two smaller outbuildings to the west. Posse North had the least amount of cover and was the most vulnerable. Fortunately this was the back of the house with the least amount of activity by the terrorists.
Drew wore the virus-tuned glasses because they would interfere with Jake’s infrared goggles. For Drew this wasn’t an issue, since he could already see at night, but he wondered how the other four teams were dealing with it. It was a problem they hadn’t thought through.
Drew could see a dozen vehicles positioned around the southern and eastern areas of the house, and he could faintly hear chanting and prayers being said in Arabic. He gave the order to close in. “Clear each outbuilding as you go.”
Slowly, carefully each team maneuvered and cleared buildings until they were all within fifty to seventy-five feet of the farmhouse.
“Posse South, get positioned behind the autos,” Drew radioed. One click from each was their acknowledgment.
Three minutes later—“Posse South set. Posse West set. Posse North set.”
Drew set a bullhorn to his lips, but before he could speak, Jake’s voice filled his ear.
“Posse Boss, this is Posse West, we have a problem,” Jake said. “Two of the targets are carrying automatic weapons.”
Drew’s heart beat harder. This was a complete game changer. He took a moment to analyze.
“Be prepared to take them out at the first sign of hostile fire,” Drew called.
“Roger.”
“If this turns hot, watch the crossfire,” Drew radioed to everyone, then lifted the bullhorn again. “Attention!” His amplified voice blasted across the road. “You are surrounded!”
But that was the last word Drew voiced.
Automatic gunfire filled the night air. He heard bullets zing above his head. There was a pause as Jake’s team took the two men out. Would that be it? But Drew’s answer came quickly.
Windows broke, and the farmhouse erupted in automatic gunfire from all directions. Drew’s men returned fire. The farmhouse and surrounding land filled with hundreds of flashes and the unceasing sound of automatic weapons. Somehow these terrorists had equipped themselves with an arsenal of weaponry and ammunition.
At various times, two or three terrorists would attempt to climb out of a window and make a run for it, but Drew’s team was able to contain them each time. The gunfight was ferocious, but in spite of the surprising number of weapons the terrorists had, the Fortress soldiers were better equipped for a nighttime fight and far better trained. Over the course of twenty minutes, the gunfire began to subside.
Drew called for surrender once more, but it only seemed to intensify the return fire. When the return fire stopped, Drew knew the worst was still to come—clearing a farmhouse with dozens of small rooms and narrow hallways. And although he had not yet been able to see any indication of Ebola through his glasses, he knew that the house was rich with the deadly virus. He heard sirens in the distance.
“Status,” Drew radioed.
“Posse South, clear.”
“Posse West, one injured.” Drew couldn’t tell if it was Jake’s voice or not.
“Posse North, clear.”
“Move in,” Drew commanded.
He motioned for two of his East team to stay back and cover any attempts by a terrorist to make a break for the trees. It was the only possible route that had enough cover for such an attempt. The rest of Drew’s East team crossed the road. Drew positioned himself further south so he could see the entrance of the home better. As the assault team closed in from all four quadrants, he began to hear shouting from the house in a thick Arabic accent.
“Don’t shoot…surrender…don’t shoot! We’re coming out!”
“Hold,” Drew ordered over the radio. “Keep your distance.”
The six men to the south were the closest to the entrance of the house. They had left their cover behind the vehicles to approach the now-silent farmhouse. Drew counted eleven bodies on the porch and on the ground just in front of the porch. He knew there were more west and north, but he didn’t yet have an exact count. Of the bodies he could see, all seemed to be virally clear, but perhaps he was still too far away for the LASOK glasses to work.
They waited as one by one the terrorists came to the porch in a huddled group. Drew still couldn’t quite see the door.
“On the ground!” he shouted. “Lay on the ground!” he repeated in Arabic.
The group of terrorists began stepping off the porch, but none of them went to the ground. He shouted again, but still no response. Posse South was now just forty to fifty feet away.
Then Drew saw it. At the back of the group was one man glowing in green, phosphorescent light.
“Trigger host at the rear! Keep your distance,” Drew radioed but it was an order that would not help them.
All at once the men in front of the trigger host fell to the ground and the terrorist filled with trillions of Ebola virions began running toward Drew’s closest men. Drew saw the dead man’s switch in his hand, and the realization of what was about to happen struck fear into his heart. There was nothing he could do except attempt to minimize the death and the contamination that was about to happen.
Before the terrorist had run ten feet, Drew took aim and shot as the terrorist shouted, “Praise be to Allah! Death to the great Satan!”
The instant Drew’s bullets hit the trigger host, the detonator for the vest bomb he was wearing went off. The bomb’s explosion assaulted all of Drew’s peaked senses. Although the men closest were on the outer edge of the forty-five-foot lethal blast radius, there was just as deadly an outcome waiting for them. Drew watched in horror as green phosphorescent, Ebola-laden tissue and fluid sprayed upward and outward, reaching much farther than the lethal radius of the concussion.
“Back away! All units back away!” Drew shouted as he motioned for the three men with him to quickly retreat. Fragments were raining down from above.
Drew heard more gunfire to the north of the house. The bomb was a diversion so the other terrorists could attempt a break for it. He looked down the eastern side of the house just in time to see two more
terrorists climbing out of windows there. He motioned, and his men turned and opened fire.
“This is a diversion. Keep eyes on all exits from the house,” Drew radioed. He looked back at the blast area, horrified by the sight of it. A sixty-foot radius around the suicide bomber glowed with thousands of fragments of Ebola-laden fluid and tissue.
He heard more gunfire to the north and west this time.
“All units hold your positions. The entire area is contaminated with Ebola. Posse South, what’s your status?” They would have taken the worst of the blast. Drew checked his own clothing and the three other men with him as he waited for an answer. He could see no trace of the virus on any of them. They were the farthest out and partially shielded by two vehicles in front of them.
“Two men down,” came the strained reply.
Drew motioned for his men to keep their eyes on the house. He then backed away from the house and circled around to the south. He carefully approached from that direction until he could see miniscule glowing fragments splayed on the ground and all over the vehicles. His Posse South team was just on the other side of the vehicles, fifteen feet into the contaminated area. He could see two men on the ground, both alive but hurt badly. The other four were still recovering from the shock.
“Posse West, what’s your status?” Drew asked Jake.
There was no reply. Drew’s heart sank. Please no, he prayed.
Gunfire erupted off to Drew’s left, west of the house near the Quonset. Then came gunfire inside the Quonset.
“Don’t move. Keep eyes on the house,” Drew ordered, then turned toward the Quonset. “Posse West, state your status,” he radioed as he ran.
“Targets acquired along the north wall in the Quonset,” Jake’s voice returned.
Drew ran to the north side of the Quonset just in time to see a side door open.
“Stop!” he yelled in Arabic, but the two terrorists turned to fire.