by Jan Coffey
“Protection.”
Sarah and Bruce put their heads together for a couple of seconds, whispering to each other.
“There will have to be a guilty plea. We’ll ask for a reduced sentence,” Sarah told him.
“I’m not guilty. I was only following orders,” Barnhardt explained.
“Following orders is not a reasonable defense,” Sarah reminded him.
“I don’t care what the plea is. I want a guarantee that I walk.”
Bruce and Sarah spoke quietly among themselves again. Amy looked at McCann. She could see how he was struggling to stay neutral in this situation. Finally, he couldn’t stay quiet.
“Following orders,” McCann hissed at the man next to him. “Is that how you got the crew on Hartford to go along with the hijacking?”
“That’s correct, Commander. The ones who helped us believed the entire operation was just an elaborate naval exercise. A terror response drill. They were following specific orders.”
“Given by you?”
“Yes. They knew me. But they knew the entire mission was also approved by someone above me.”
“Who?” McCann asked.
Barnhardt looked over his shoulder at the two investigators. “Do we have a deal?”
Dunn was the one who spoke. “Whatever evidence you have better be good.”
“It doesn’t get any better,” Barnhardt said.
“That depends on what you can offer the prosecution,” Sarah told him. “It has to stand up in court.”
“I have it.”
Dunn nodded. “Then we have a deal.”
A heavy silence fell inside the car. Barnhardt looked out the window first. They were approaching the green. There were people on the street, all walking in the same direction, some chanting, others carrying political campaign signs. Most of the signs were against the present administration. Everyone carried flashlights or glow sticks or what looked to be candles. The ambulance stopped at a stoplight, and pedestrians crossed in front of them.
“The hijacking was about this,” the older man said.
Everyone’s gaze turned to him.
“Politics. The election,” he explained. “Today was supposed to be a shock to wake up the American voter. It was to be a sudden and stark affirmation of President Hawkins’s military strengths.”
The passengers were speechless. Amy looked at the protestors on the street, then back at the man sitting in the passenger seat. The country wanted Hawkins out. Staunch supporters admitted that his election had been a mistake. He’d barely gotten his own party’s nomination for reelection, and even that had come with bitterness about his people’s strong arm techniques.
When it came to the internal affairs and the everyday life of Americans, nothing had been accomplished over the past four years. There was still a lack of decent health care for most of the country. Unemployment rates continued to climb. And many other important issues had been pushed aside while the president kept his focus on his bullying foreign policies. With the exception of a couple of countries who claimed to be U.S. allies, the rest of the world seemed to hate Americans.
It had been four painful years, but people seemed to be waking up. There’d been no doubt that Hawkins would be defeated by John Penn.
“Are you saying that the President of United States ordered this hijacking just to get reelected?” Amy asked.
“This is really nothing new.” Barnhardt told them. “Nervous voters stay the course.”
“Answer the question, Captain,” Sarah demanded. “Was the President of the United States involved in this?”
Barnhardt turned around and looked at her. “Yes.”
“Can you prove it?” Bruce asked.
Amy saw the black SUV that pulled to their right. “I think you should drive,” she urged McCann.
He pressed his foot on the gas.
“I left you a present. See what you can do with it,” Barnhardt said before the passenger window exploded, spattering McCann with the captain’s blood.
~~~~
Chapter 66
New Haven, CT
10:50 p.m.
“He’s dead,” Bruce announced after reaching over the seat to check for Barnhardt’s pulse.
Glancing at the body slumped over the center console, McCann had no doubt. Turning on the siren and lights, he gunned the ambulance along Church Street, swerving between cars. Checking the side view mirror, he could see the black SUV was right on his tail.
“Check his pockets. He must have something on him. What did he mean by leaving you a present?”
“Whether he was lying or telling the truth,” Sarah said from the back, “everything he told us is worthless without proof. There’s no way we can repeat any of this to Admiral Meisner without having him hand our heads back to us.”
“Can you trust this Admiral Meisner?” Amy asked.
Neither of the two working for the admiral answered the question.
Nearing the end of the city green, the SUV pulled beside them. Jerking the wheel of the ambulance to the right, McCann buffeted the car into the far right lane and then cranked the wheel to the left, his vehicle bouncing up onto the sidewalk in front of the courthouse before racing along the north side of the green.
Thankfully, most of the foot traffic for the demonstration was in the center of the green. The only things McCann hit were a couple of newspaper boxes, a sign or two, and a mailbox.
Bruce pulled a few things out of the dead man’s pockets. “Wallet, cell phone, pocket knife, house keys. Damn it! There’s nothing.”
McCann took another look in the side mirror. Two cars were chasing after them, now. Both unmarked SUVs. Very much government type, he thought. A police car followed them.
“We can’t get away from them in this thing,” McCann warned them. “And it’s only a matter of minutes before the hospital reports the ambulance stolen. Then, every police car in the state will be after us, too.”
“Remember what Barnhardt said about reporters and cameras?” Amy asked.
McCann spotted a Channel 8 News van in the center of the crowd.
“Police, reporters, cameras,” he repeated. “I wonder how they’re going to explain this chase to them.”
As McCann cranked the wheel again to the left, the ambulance jerked up onto the sidewalk. McCann floored it across the green with his siren blaring.
“What are you going to do?” Sarah asked.
“You two better call someone you trust. You’ve got one minute,” he ordered.
McCann steered around groups of pedestrians toward the parked news vans. Behind them, the black SUVs were making their way more cautiously across the green.
Church Street was ahead, and on the far side, the steps of the newly renovated City Hall were brightly lit.
“Hold on,” he told them as the ambulance crashed through the wrought iron fence bordering the green, tearing across the wide sidewalk.
McCann drove straight into traffic, narrowly missing two cars coming from the right before smashing into two police cars that sat in a line of squad cars at the curb.
Cops came running from everywhere, swarming around the ambulance in seconds.
Bruce turned on his cell phone and started to make a call.
~~~~
Chapter 67
Newport, Rhode Island
11:00 p.m.
John Penn threw his reading glasses on the desk and ran a tired hand down his face. “I’m done, boys.”
“Five more minutes. Let me check out this last one,” McCarthy pleaded, taking a fax from Greg and perusing the page.
John knew it wouldn’t be five minutes. They were waiting for the results of the latest poll they were running, based on the unsubstantiated report that the plane crash in Branford Connecticut had Hartford hijackers on board.
This fax was from Oregon. Then they had to wait for Washington State. Then it’d be the big one, California. And it didn’t matter that they thought they had California wrapped up last week.
The inner circle of staff members—and John—had stayed up to make sure the phone surveys matched their expectations. If they didn’t, McCarthy wouldn’t stop whining until John would agree to some last minute television or radio interview.
So much for not campaigning today.
The phone rang. John looked at the display and recognized the number. It was the public line to his office. At this time on any other night, the answering machine would greet the caller. But tonight, one of the weary campaign aides answered the call.
John heard the young woman start her standard screening questions, but she quickly turned to him.
“It’s for you, Senator,” she told him, mouthing that it was important.
John considered letting either Moore or McCarthy handle the call. Whoever was on the phone couldn’t be a family member or a member of any of the Senate committees; they would have called on his private line. But he changed his mind and decided to take it.
“Senator Penn.” The voice was sharp, and John could hear sirens and shouting in the background.
“Speaking.”
“Sir, this is Commander Bruce Dunn, one of the two Naval Intelligence officers put in charge of the investigation of the Hartford hijacking this morning. My colleague and I report to Admiral Meisner.”
Penn knew Meisner and his job at the Pentagon. “What can I do for you, Commander?”
“Sir, we’re presently getting picked up by the New Haven, Connecticut, Police for questioning. In my company is the other investigator in charge of this case, Lieutenant Connelly, and the only two survivors from Hartford, Commander McCann and the Electric Boat ship superintendent, Amy Russell.”
Penn didn’t know the two had survived. None of this had been released to the public.
“We also have with us the dead body of the individual who claimed responsibility for spearheading the hijacking. His name was Captain Ramsey Barnhardt.”
Penn’s mind reeled with all the information. He’d met Barnhardt, heard him speak at a number of Senate hearings a few years back. An arrogant bastard, but well qualified.
“Captain Barnhardt took responsibility for the hijacking?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why are you calling me, Commander, and not Admiral Meisner?”
“Because prior to being shot by those who’ve been pursuing us, sir, Captain Ramsey accused the President of United States of being the one who ordered the hijacking.”
“Shit.” Penn wasn’t aware that he’d sworn aloud. Everyone in the room was staring at him.
“Sir, at this point we don’t know who’s involved in the conspiracy. You’re the only person we’re contacting for assistance.”
“Of course. Of course.” Penn started pacing, motioning for his staff to stop what they were doing. “Are you in any present danger, Commander Dunn?”
“We’ve been requested to go to the New Haven Police Station for questioning. We’re certain, however, that our pursuers are no farther away than the crowd’s edge.” Dunn paused. “Sorry sir, they’re telling me to cut the call and get in the car.”
“That’s a good idea, Commander. Stay safe. I’ll take care of things from this end.”
Penn hadn’t even hung up before his shouts rang into the room. “Gibbs, I need a helicopter to take me to New Haven. And I want it escorted by military choppers.” He whirled on the other aides. “We have to make some calls, and I don’t care what time it is. Wake them up if you have to, but get all these people on the phone. Tell them it’s a matter of national security, of life and death. I want calls to the Vice President, the Speaker of the House, both Senate Leaders, the Secretary of State, Secretary of Defense, the Attorney General—”
“What’s this about?” McCarthy interrupted him.
“I was just told that Will Hawkins has committed the most reprehensible act that a sitting President could ever do. He ordered an act that has put more than ten million American’s lives in danger.”
“That’s great,” McCarthy replied. “I’ll put a press conference together right away.”
“Cut the crap, Anthony,” Penn snapped. “All of that has to wait. We have to take care of this country and its people first.”
“I have the Vice President on line, Senator,” one of the aides called from the other end of the room.
“Why are you calling so many of them?” McCarthy asked.
“Because one or two might be in on this. But all of them?” He shook his head. “My long held faith in the system of checks and balances has just been reaffirmed.”
Penn pressed the blinking light and picked up the phone. “Mr. Vice President. Before I give you a run down of the disaster we have on our hands, you should know that this same phone call is being made to the Attorney General and every member of the President’s Cabinet.”
~~~~
Chapter 68
New Haven
Connecticut, 11:15 p.m.
Two police cruisers took them to the station. Another ambulance had arrived before they left the scene, and the two EMTs declared the fifth passenger dead.
Amy and McCann were in the first cruiser, and Sarah and Bruce followed in the second. All of them, with the exception of Amy, who was dressed in borrowed scrubs, had shown identification. But they’d refused to make a statement, insisting on being taken to the station. The shattered window of the ambulance made it clear that Barnhardt had been shot, but there were still many questions about the stolen vehicle, why they’d been driving in excess of eighty miles per hour around New Haven green, and who the gun that Bruce had belonged to.
Sarah was glad their identification had carried some clout, since they hadn’t been searched or handcuffed. They were just asked to ride in the back seat.
The police cars struggled to cut through the crowds of curiosity seekers who’d forgotten their rally. As they crawled past, Sarah was blinded by the lights of the camera crews of the news station filming footage of the escapade.
“How far away do you think it is to the police station?” she asked Bruce as the officer driving their car blasted the siren intermittently to encourage people to step back.
“I don’t know, but I doubt Kilo and his crew would be stupid enough to try to stop us before we get there,” Bruce told her.
Sarah looked over her shoulder. People were closing the gap as the police car moved along. She couldn’t see the SUVs that had been in pursuit of them earlier.
“Do you think we might have jumped the gun,” she asked quietly. The police car turned right and picked up speed.
“About Barnhardt’s claim?”
She nodded. “What happens if we don’t find anything? Or if there’s no evidence as he promised?”
“Unless we’re just part of an elaborate set-up, which I don’t think is likely, there has to be a money trail.”
“True, but I would bet my life that it doesn’t reach the President,” Sarah said.
“That’s true,” Bruce admitted. “But we had no choice. Even on the surface, Penn is the only one who wouldn’t benefit from this hijacking. But I can’t honestly say who in the administration would go along with something this crazy.”
“If we’re wrong, then we’re taking Senator Penn’s career down with us.” Sarah said.
Bruce sighed. “But I tend to believe Barnhardt was telling the truth. Why else did they send those goons to kill him?”
Sarah looked out the window. The crowd was much larger now than it had been when McCann had been racing around in the ambulance. She wondered how it was that the rally could bring out so many after such a chaotic day. Perhaps it was exactly because of that. People wanted to be part of history.
Bruce broke into her thoughts. “Meisner is the only one who has me concerned. He should have been our first call, but in a situation like this, I have no take on him.”
“He had ulterior motives for choosing me for this case,” Sarah said. “He assumed I’d muddle the investigation. That doesn’t inspire confidence.”
“The same goes for choosing me.”
“Why?”
“I asked to work with you. Maybe he figured I’d be so blinded by your charm and beauty that I’d forget what I’m doing.”
“Come on.”
“Well, that’s partly true.”
“Were you blinded, Commander?”
“Of course,” he deadpanned. “If I’d paid attention to what the heck I was doing, this case would have been wrapped up before lunchtime.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “You sure know how to pick your moments, don’t you?”
Bruce’s phone beeped. He had a voice message. Sarah decided to turn on her cell phone, too, just in case Senator Penn wanted to contact them. She checked the display. She had three voice mails.
The police officer who was driving the car looked in the rearview mirror at her. “Officer, is it okay to check my messages? They could be important.”
The young man gave a half-hearted nod. He looked as if he didn’t know whether to treat them as criminals or to salute them.
Bruce didn’t bother to ask. He was already listening to his messages.
“First one, Meisner,” he told her. “The hospital called him about Brody. He doesn’t know where we are or what the hell is going on.”
Sarah dialed her own voice mail. An identical message was left by the admiral on her phone, as well. She saw Bruce sit forward, adjusting the phone to his ear.
“I have a forwarded message from Barnhardt. It’s also distributed to you, too.”
She still had her phone on. The message Bruce was talking about started.
“Here is something for your investigations, Commander Dunn, Lieutenant Connelly.”
Several clicks followed, and then the sound of a number being punched in. When the voices came on, Sarah realized she was listening to a taped conversation between the President and Barnhardt.
She listened to the conversation, hearing the President’s voice as he implicated himself in the hijacking.
Bruce and Sarah looked at each other when the conversation cut short.