by Dirk Patton
28
I entered the maintenance shaft first, swinging my feet onto the closest rung. Reaching up, I nearly missed the next higher one and reminded myself that I had to focus my attention on what I was doing. Rachel had been correct. My depth perception was for shit, and if I wasn’t careful, it was going to be a fast trip to the hard concrete below.
The climb was slow and arduous, reminding me of ascending the elevator shaft in Los Alamos with Martinez, Scott and Irina. A sense of loss spread through me as I thought about my friends, but I didn’t have the luxury of continuing to mourn the fallen. Right now, I wanted to wrap up the happy horseshit with the militia and find a way to Australia. Once my hands were wrapped around Barinov’s throat, I’d let myself think about all the people I loved who were gone because of him. I’d recite their names as I choked the life out of him. If I let him pass that easily.
Nearly missing another rung, I cursed at myself and shoved all those thoughts aside. Pushing, I climbed faster, finally reaching a hatch labeled simply as B. I didn’t know the facility well, but was certain this would open into the level immediately below where Vance was being held in the hangar.
Glancing down, I made sure Johnson and Igor were ready, then released the locking lever and cracked the door open a couple of inches. I could see a narrow slice of another large room. It was well lit, and various machines I couldn’t identify were sitting in the middle of the shiny floor. There was no sound, and with no time to waste before the power was cut, I shoved the hatch fully open and scrambled through.
As I crossed the threshold, I pulled my rifle around and moved to the side to make room. Scanning, I noted a faint sound as first Johnson, then Igor, joined me. I saw them raise their weapons from the corner of my good eye. We gave it a few seconds, circling the stored equipment in opposite directions. We were alone.
Johnson dashed back to the maintenance hatch and gently closed it, the lock automatically engaging. We moved to the exit and tried to listen for sounds of the enemy on the far side, but the steel was too thick.
“Which direction to the hangar?” I mumbled, hand on the lock release.
Johnson thought for a second before pointing to what would be our left when we stepped into the corridor. Nodding, I tugged on the thick handle, gratified when it moved with no sound other than a faint snick as the locking bolts retracted. With a deep breath, I pushed, and it swung out an inch.
The clock was ticking, and I didn’t have the luxury of standing there and thoroughly listening. When I didn’t see or hear anything, I pushed it open and stepped quickly into the hall, rifle up, seeking a target. But, once again, there weren’t any members of the militia waiting to ambush us.
Igor came next, then Johnson followed, closing the door behind us. We set off in the direction he’d indicated. Moving fast now, I took the lead and bypassed doors that were standing ajar. Not exactly the right way to move through hostile territory, but the circumstances demanded speed. All of us were carrying suppressed rifles, so we wouldn’t make as much noise if we had to fire. Besides, by now, I was more than a little pissed off and spoiling for a fight.
I slowed as we approached the intersection of the corridors. There were four elevators that serviced the central hub, housed in a cylindrical shaft. Now at a walk, I moved with the rifle up and my eye to the scope. This was a bitch as I’d normally have my left eye open and watching as well, but with it out of commission, I was limited to the narrow field of view afforded by the optic.
A subtle sound from ahead caused me to slow and quickly scan back and forth. I didn’t see anything, then heard the sound again. A foot scraping on the floor. Pressing forward, I saw movement as a man stepped into view from the far side of the elevator tube. He was wearing jeans and a camouflage T-shirt, a rifle held loosely in one hand. A bored guard.
I fired once, my round punching through his skull. The noise of his body and weapon falling to the hard floor was louder than my shot. Igor and I rushed forward, Johnson peeling away to circle the elevators and meet on the far side. The one guard had been alone.
“Which way?” I asked.
“You know we’re a level down, right?”
“Yes. Which way?” I hissed.
“Follow me,” he said and took off at a fast trot.
Igor and I fell in behind him. As we ran, I hoped I remembered correctly. When we’d first begun searching the facility, one of the teams had found a hypersonic stealth aircraft in the hangar where Vance was being held. When they’d taken me to see it, I’d seen several maintenance hatches in the walls. I was betting everything on the hope that they opened into shafts like the one we’d just used and we could access them from this level. Climb up and surprise the assholes that had broken in.
Of course, I was counting on a lot, not to mention the fact that I had no idea how many we were going up against. And, I was hoping that we’d be the only ones with night vision scopes on our weapons. Maybe I should hope for Santa Claus to show up and give us all a ride to safety while I was at it.
“Hangar’s up there.” Johnson pulled to a stop and pointed at the ceiling.
Without slowing, I raced through an open door and quickly looked around, not seeing any access hatches.
“What looking for?” Igor asked.
“Maintenance shaft entrance,” I said as I ran to the next room. “Saw some in the hangar. Betting there’s some down here.”
Johnson grinned when he understood what I had in mind and ran into the room next to the one I was headed for. Igor was already conducting his own search. None of us found a hatch and moved farther down the hall.
“Here!”
Johnson’s voice floated out of the space next to where I was searching. Turning, I dashed through the door, nearly colliding with Igor. Johnson was already at work defeating the electronic lock. It only took him a few seconds, the bolts releasing with a muted thud. He pulled it open and stuck his head inside, twisting to see higher up the shaft.
“Got it,” he said. “Door’s about twenty-five feet up!”
He moved aside, and I stepped through onto an iron rung. Three steps later, the power went out, and we were again plunged into darkness. There was a muttered curse in Russian from beneath my feet, but that was the limit of their reaction. A moment later I heard a click and Johnson’s light came on, allowing me to see well enough to resume climbing.
I quickly scaled the remaining distance, locking an arm through a rung when my feet were level with the bottom of the hatch. There was a vibration from within my pocket that I ignored. The radio. Probably the asshole who’d I’d talked to, calling to issue some additional ultimatums. I just hoped the lights going off didn’t goad him into doing anything further to Vance.
“I’m going left, Igor right, Johnson middle. Ready?” I mumbled just loud enough for them to hear.
I received a da and a yes. Reaching out, I grasped the locking lever and took a deep breath. This was going to be the riskiest moment. I was clinging to an iron rung, had to unlock and open a door a foot to my side, then swing through. And I had to do all this silently, and with my rifle still slung down my back. I wouldn’t be able to bring it around until I was in the hangar, and if the militia saw me while I was entering, I’d be a sitting duck.
“Light,” I hissed, looking down.
An instant later we were in darkness, and I gently tugged on the lever. It took some force but moved smoothly and silently. The only sound was the faint click as locking bolts released. Shifting my weight until one foot was swinging free and ready to step through, I carefully pushed the hatch open.
Immediately, I began hearing the undisciplined shouts of several men. They were cursing, checking on each other and repeatedly asking what had happened. Swinging out, I stepped through, noting several flashlight beams playing around far across the massive hangar. Sliding sideways, I brought the rifle up and looked through the night vision scope as Igor, then Johnson clambered into the space.
We had come out on the wall far
thest from the entrance off the corridor. The giant, active camouflage plane squatted between our position and the militia, a set of roof-high steel doors to our right. A quick scan reassured me that we were well removed from the enemy, then I settled in to look them over.
There were fourteen men wandering around, all armed with various makes and calibers of rifles. Really? You raid the armory at an Air Force Base and don’t bother to make sure that all your troops are using the same style and caliber of weapon? Well, that just reinforced my assessment that these guys didn’t really know what the hell they were doing. Unfortunately, that didn’t necessarily make them any less dangerous.
Most of the men were running around like frightened children, but there were three of them that had stayed in place near a table. Another form lay on its surface, and it wasn’t a long shot to guess it was Vance. As I watched, one of them lifted his hand. A moment later, the radio in my pocket vibrated. Hello, asshole. Unfortunately, he was still a little too far away for me to take a shot.
Surveying the open space between them and us, I paused with my eye trained on the plane’s oversized landing gear. The tires looked like they were at least five feet tall, and the heavy wheel and struts would provide ideal cover from which to launch an attack. Lowering my rifle, I scooted to the side and pulled Igor and Johnson close.
In clipped sentences, I told them what we were doing, and they each mumbled an understanding. The radio vibrated again, and I ignored it as we hurried forward. The militia was starting to settle down, but lights were still being nervously played across the floor and walls as we took up positions beneath the belly of the jet.
Aiming my rifle, I focused in on who I assumed was their leader. He was slightly taller than the rest and began shouting for his men to be quiet. It took several commands before they complied and even though I couldn’t read his facial expression through the night vision, I had little doubt he was pissed off by the way he looked around. Finally calming, he raised the radio and barked into it. I couldn’t understand the words but could hear his voice across the echoing room.
“I’m taking the leader,” I hissed. “Igor, left. Johnson, right.”
We were targeting the three men standing around the table that held the figure I believed was Vance. I had received their acknowledgment and was opening my mouth to give the order to fire when the main entrance door suddenly opened with a loud clang.
Instantly, lights swiveled to the opening, spotting a large man as he walked into the hangar. Right behind him was a woman, three more men bringing up the rear. All four of the men moved and handled their weapons like professionals, and I was willing to bet the woman was the General.
“What the hell are you doing?” She called in a loud voice.
29
The Governor of Hawaii sighed deeply and rolled his eyes as Captain Black made him remove his suit coat for a more thorough inspection. Handing the garment off to another Marine to be cleared, the head of Admiral Packard’s personal protection detail slipped on a pair of latex gloves and expertly ran his hands over the politician’s rotund form. Leaving no area unchecked, he snapped the gloves off when he was complete and nodded for the Sergeant to return the jacket.
“This is absolutely inappropriate!” The Governor said, yanking his suit back into place. “The Admiral will hear about it, I can promise you that!”
“Thank you for your cooperation, sir.”
Captain Black was unfazed by the complaint. Turning around, he knocked sharply on the Admiral’s office door, opening it when permission to enter was granted. He announced the Governor and held the door for the pompous man, closing it quietly after he stormed through.
“Admiral Packard, I really must protest being treated in this manner. Being groped by that thug is quite unnecessary!”
The Governor was obviously upset, his voice strained as he stood in front of Packard’s desk. Staring at him, the Admiral slowly rose to his feet.
“Governor, I do not tell my security detail how to do their job. They know far better than I. And, I would suggest you refrain from calling any of my Marines a thug in the future, especially if they can hear you.”
The man gaped at the rebuke, his face turning a deep shade of crimson.
“Have a seat,” Packard said, resuming his and ignoring the man’s anger. “I’m quite busy so let’s dispense with the pleasantries and get to the reason for your visit.”
The Governor glared at him, then, acting like a true politician, swallowed his angst and smiled as he sat down. Leaning forward, he placed a thick file folder on the large desk.
“What’s this?” Packard asked without picking it up.
“This, Admiral, is a legal brief prepared by my Attorney General.”
“For what purpose?”
“For the legal and Constitutional purpose of you placing yourself and the remaining United States military under my command. You see, Admiral, for several months now you have acted unilaterally. You have made all the foreign policy decisions for the country. You have declared and fought a war. Sent men and women into battle. Spoken directly with foreign leaders. Violated sovereign Australian territory. The list is quite extensive.
“But, this is the United States of America, Admiral. The military does not dictate foreign policy or when we will or will not go to war, or with whom. That is the job of the civilian Commander in Chief. A duly elected Commander in Chief. At the moment, you are in violation of the Constitution as well as numerous federal laws.
“Now, I understand that times have been, well, unusual, and you’ve done the best you could under the circumstances. But, the Constitution must be honored and the rule of law restored. Since the threat of a Russian invasion has been resolved, it is time to move forward.
“As such, I have instructed the Hawaiian Secretary of State to prepare for an emergency election. We will select a new President, who will appoint a cabinet and assume rightful control of the military. Until then, since I am the most senior surviving elected official in the United States, I will be taking command of all aspects and components of the federal government until such time as a new President is sworn in.”
The Governor leaned back in his chair, unable to suppress a smug expression. All the earlier anger was completely gone.
“And I suppose you will be running for the presidency,” Packard said, his voice neutral.
“I haven’t made that decision. Yet.”
The Admiral was met with another smug smile.
“I see,” he said. “And, when will this emergency election take place?”
“As quickly as possible,” the Governor said, encouraged by the lack of resistance. “It’s quite important that we restore the leadership of our men and women in uniform to the people, where it belongs.”
The Admiral nodded slowly as the man finished speaking.
“I cannot agree with you more,” he said, earning a surprised expression from his visitor. “And, as soon as there is a lawfully elected President, I will acknowledge his authority and constitutional position as the Commander in Chief of the military.”
“I must say, Admiral. I am rather surprised and pleased with your reaction. Honestly, I’d expected resistance.”
“Mr. Governor, my oath to the constitution did not end when we lost the President and his cabinet. I will support whoever is elected and would be more than happy to lend any assistance you may need in ensuring the election is fair and legal.”
“Very good, Admiral! And, I appreciate your offer, but no assistance from the military is required. Now, in the interim, I will be placing my Lieutenant Governor here in your offices. He will be the liaison between my office and yours. A poor man’s Secretary of Defense, if you will.”
The Governor was smiling ear to ear, unable to restrain his excitement at how well the meeting appeared to be going. That smile vanished quickly as Admiral Packard began shaking his head.
“That’s not going to happen, Mr. Governor,” Packard said firmly. “I will not acknowle
dge your authority in any matters other than the governance of the civilian population of Hawaii. You are not the Commander in Chief. At least, not yet.”
“Admiral,” the Governor began in a low, dangerous voice. “Before you make any decisions, I would highly suggest you review the legal brief I had prepared. You do not want to be on the wrong side of history when a new President takes office.”
Packard held his gaze for several seconds, finally looking down at the file. When he broke eye contact, the Governor nodded and smiled. Reaching out, the Admiral picked it up, examined the cover briefly, then leaned sideways and dropped it into a waste can.
“I believe I’ve made myself clear, Mr. Governor,” he said as the politician leapt to his feet with indignation on his face.
“You will regret this, Admiral! You are paving your own road to charges of sedition and treason!”
“I’m willing to take that chance,” Packard said, his eyes boring into the Governor’s. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I must get back to work. I trust you will keep me informed on the status of the election.”
As the Governor stared at him with his mouth hanging open, the Admiral pressed a button on his desk. Within a second, his office door opened and Captain Black stepped through.
“Sir?”
“Please escort the Governor to the main gate, Captain,” Packard said, turning his attention to a stack of reports on his desk.
“Yes, sir. Sir, if you please.” Black moved to the side of the open door, eyes boring into the politician.
The Governor glared at Packard for several seconds, then snorted a loud humph of indignation.
“This is far from over, Admiral,” he spat, venom in his voice.
Packard ignored the man, only looking up as he stormed out of his office with Black close behind. Before the door closed, Captain West stepped in, looking over his shoulder at the enraged Governor.
“What did he want, sir?”
“Wants to be the leader of the free world, or at least what’s left of it.”