John grabbed her arm and guided her back inside. “Trust me, we’re not in danger. I think that Montrose has probably ordered an attack on the island. Maxxine just destroyed a military jet that was launching a missile at us. She’s got the situation under control, at least for now. There’s nothing to worry about; we are completely safe here.”
The president and Jim Slater had also heard the explosion that had been strong enough to rattle the windows and rushed to find John.
Sylvia dashed in with her face fixed with a look of furious determination. “What in the hell is going on, John? Sounds like those damn fools have tried to attack us. That gets my Scottish dander up! How dare they? I thought that you had everything under control?”
John spoke to calm her. “You’re right. They did try to take the island, but we were well protected. You and Julia will stay here, but the president, Jim, and I have to go to Washington, DC, immediately.”
To Jim and the president, John yelled, “Get dressed immediately. We need to leave as soon as possible!”
He looked at Julia and Sylvia. “God help them if they cross the two of you!”
Within five minutes, the three men were dashing down the pathway to the shuttlecraft when General T caught up with them carrying a small hamper. “Hey, Boss, here’s some high energy snack food to keep you going. Good luck and Godspeed!”
John grabbed the hamper, they all jumped aboard, and within a few seconds they were headed toward Washington, DC, at a high rate of speed.
****
First Lieutenant Harry Teasdale, USMC, was the leader of the Marines assigned to take Scott Key. The AAV carrying him and his troops sped through the waters and approached the cloud bank hovering over the island. He turned to Gunnery Sergeant Manuel Rodriquez and said, “Gunny, from what little I know, we can expect almost anything, so keep alert. Just tell all the men to hold their fire unless fired upon first. The few inhabitants here are thought to be civilians. We don’t want to spill any blood unless necessary.”
“I understand, sir.”
Rodriquez may have intended to say something else, but he did not get the chance. The instant the AAV entered the cloud, a giant wave rose in the front and lifted the front of the craft to an angle that almost flipped it backward. When the nose of the craft finally came down, it was headed in the opposite direction of the island, and it quickly left the cloud and was in clear air again. Everyone in the AAV was tossed about like rag dolls and drenched with salt water from the waves. It had been a very unnerving experience for the bruised and battered men.
The pilot of the AAV was heard yelling, “What in the hell was that?”
Lt. Teasdale gathered his senses and ordered the pilot to land on the beach as quickly as possible. As soon as the craft reached the leading edge of the cloud bank, it was repulsed as before.
Being a stubborn leatherneck who always obeyed orders, Teasdale ordered two more attempts with the same results.
Then, in frustration, he ordered one more attempt and this time, he would use firepower. He gave the command for the crew to begin firing the 12.7 mm machine gun and the 40 mm grenade launcher as the AAV sped towards the cloud bank. That was a most unfortunate decision.
The remote craft guarding the island detected the high volume of incoming fire instantly and automatically responded with lethal force. A photon torpedo was launched at the AAV causing it to explode in a ball of fire. The AAV and all personnel aboard it were instantly vaporized leaving only churning, boiling water for a few seconds. Soon after that, dead fish and other ocean creatures dotted the surface of the water. There was no visible debris from the craft or its crew.
Captain Popovich was listening to the transmissions, but he was also close enough to observe the gigantic red lightning bolt that struck the AAV from above. He was stunned by the instant and complete destruction. He was horrified that he had just lost a full platoon of Marines and the crew of the AAV.
“Dear God,” he exclaimed out loud, “Have we so offended thee?”
Slumping back into his command chair, Captain, most likely never to be Admiral, Popovich spoke to this executive officer again, “Wilcox, inform COMNAVSURFLANT that we are breaking off the engagement and retreating. Tell them that I signed on to lead men into battle, not to send them out to be slaughtered.”
“Yes, sir,” a shaken Commander Wilcox responded.
Popovich received an almost immediate response from Admiral Bloodworth, but it was not the answer that he expected. Bloodworth was replacing him as of that very minute. His second-in-command would take over until the new commander arrived. The new commander was being transported immediately to the carrier by a Navy jet.
The message was terse:
“To Commander CSF635.
“You are relieved of duty immediately.
“Replacement will arrive by plane within two hours.
“Until then, CSF635 is under the command of Executive Officer Wilcox.
“CSF635 is to will remain in its current position until further notice.
“COMNAVSURFLANT.”
Chapter 13: Resurrection Day
“If you have the power to resurrect the dead man, firstly, be sure that he is a good man!”
- Mehmet Murat ildan
John Scott felt that the American idea of freedom was worth saving. He just wished that it was not his shoulders upon whom the chore had been placed. But he could not turn away. He had stuck his nose into the fray, and he would see it through.
After the attempted invasion of Scott Key, John had ordered Maxxine to provide more shuttle craft to protect the island. He also ordered more craft to monitor Washington, DC. He feared that there would be military action and he wanted to be sure that Jim Slater and President Wilkinson were protected at all costs. A remote would be assigned exclusively to protecting each of them. It may have been overkill, but he preferred to take no chances.
As the shuttle craft sped toward Washington, DC, John handed out the food that General T had packed for them. They ate hastily and with minimal conversation, each man lost in his personal thoughts.
Wilkinson sat with his head bowed and thought of the wife who believed him dead. He could only imagine her suffering. He hadn’t been the best of husbands, but they had survived many marital crises, and he knew that deep down she had surely remained devoted to him. And now, in this time of crisis, he realized how much she meant to him and how much he regretted his actions that had caused her to drift away. They had been held together by politics. Now, what did they have? He had the horrible thought, What if she wasn’t suffering at all? Could she secretly be glad to have him out of her life? That thought brought a tear to his eye.
Jim Slater sat quietly and thought of Sylvia and the many opportunities that he had missed. He had found the one person in his life that could fulfill him, and he had let happiness slip through his hands. Since meeting her again, he realized that she had never left his heart, and he prayed that they could leave the past behind and start anew. He now realized that his career, the life that he had once loved in Washington, DC, now meant little to him. He needed nothing more than Sylvia and Mitch to be happy. He vowed that he would fight for that happiness.
John Scott reminisced about his life that had been totally controlled by Maxx, and how much he had hated the situation at the time. He had even hated Maxx at times. He had hated that he was part Mylean. Now, he had come to the end of it all. His decisions could save the government or cause it to be completely destroyed. And even if he saved the government, it might cost the lives of thousands of innocent military personnel. He was both humbled and terrified by the unique position in which he found himself. Next, Julia filled his thoughts. At that moment in time, he knew for certain, in his heart, that Maxx, the great trickster, had selected her to be his true love and had engineered their meeting. How could he not love him for that? A tear filled his eye, and he sent a great wave of affection out into the vastness of space toward Maxx.
Their private thoughts were
suddenly interrupted by their arrival at the South Lawn of the White House. Still in stealth mode, the craft settled down softly near the landing spot normally used by Marine One, but closer to the entrance to the Oval Office in the West Wing.
John announced, “As soon as the hatch opens, the craft will be visible for a few seconds. I’ll hop out, and it will shut behind me. As soon as I’m sure that it’s safe for you, I’ll open the hatch again. When that happens, jump out and move as fast as you can. Stay low and follow me. We must get into the West Wing quickly.
“If we’re detected and a firefight breaks out, run back to the ship immediately. It’s programmed to react to any threat with a lethal force, so you need to be out of harm’s way. Also, there are separate remotes assigned to each of us individually. If we are in imminent danger, our remote will automatically extract us. If that should happen, don’t panic; I will get us back together as soon as possible.
“Remember two things. First, we don’t know if we can trust all of the Secret Service agents. Second, we know that the military has a whole platoon of troops plus four Stryker armored vehicles deployed around the White House. I also suspect that there are probably troops on the White House grounds as well. Bottom line, we’re going to have to be extremely careful. He stood and straightened his shoulders, “Are we ready?”
The president and Jim answered with a thumbs-up signal.
****
The grounds seemed eerily quiet at this time of the morning, and Jim couldn’t push the ominous feelings of foreboding from his mind. Suddenly, he could hardly breathe, and his heart began to pound furiously. It was the moment of truth. The moment when they would either succeed or bring down death and destruction to the military stationed here. He prayed silently for guidance and courage.
Normally, the White House grounds were under the protection of the Uniformed Division of the Secret Service. They are all trained in police tactics and procedures, and many of them had police backgrounds.
Inside the White House, the Secret Service was in control of protection. The two groups worked for the same agency, but other than that, they had had little in common traditionally. Agents usually interacted with agents and UD personnel interacted with UD personnel. In the past, there had been some rather thorny issues between the two groups, such as recognition and pay scale.
Now Carla Montrose, master of chaos, had seen fit to cause an additional rift between the two groups. She was well aware of the issues between them and took pleasure in pitting one side against the other just for her amusement.
To make things even worse, she had ordered a light armored brigade to protect the White House grounds. Both groups were quietly incensed and insulted.
The Uniformed Division interpreted the action as a direct insult to their professionalism. The Secret Service agents fumed that their authority was being usurped and that they should never, ever have to answer to the military.
The truth was quite simple and had nothing to do with either group. Erik Stoellar had simply ordered Montrose to surround the White House with this hand-picked brigade. Not surprisingly, the commander of the brigade answered directly to the Krakow Klub and would follow orders without question.
Montrose had now brought the morale of the people charged with protecting her to an all-time low. The only ones who were seemingly unaffected were the four agents that she had brought with her. The four burly men were trained and paid by the Krakow Klub, and that’s where their loyalties lay.
The regular agents continued faithfully in their duties, but they no longer had that razor sharp instinct to jump into a hail of bullets directed at the president. Several, truth be known, would have probably chosen to duck for cover. Under the circumstances, no one could blame them. This president had already harangued and verbally abused her protectors more than one could imagine. It was an untenable situation for the elite group.
At this time, in the early morning, the White House grounds were usually very quiet with little activity anywhere. Today was no exception. The plainclothes Secret Service agents were all inside the White House. The Uniformed Division officers, usually outside, were assigned to the Capitol building for the morning. The orders were unprecedented and provocative, but it probably saved their lives.
The grounds of the White House were now protected only by the military.
****
PFC Ahmed Wilson, a member of the Stryker Brigade guarding Washington, was assigned to the White House platoon and was stationed to guard the south entrance to the West Wing. He had grown up in a rather dangerous and disagreeable area of Washington, DC, and had experienced several minor brushes with the law by the time he was fourteen.
As soon as he was old enough, he had joined the army. Even with his rather limited intelligence and even less ambition, he knew that the military offered an escape from a life that had little to offer other than gang membership followed by a string of prison terms.
Much to his mother’s relief, he was accepted into the army after barely passing his final exams to graduate from high school. She would forever believe that the school passed him because they couldn’t afford to have so many students who couldn’t meet the minimal requirements for graduating.
Now, after four years in the military, he had been issued live ammunition for the first time. That alone had made him nervous. Then, to add to his nervousness, he had been among those assigned to guard the White House grounds.
Like most of the other enlisted men in this particular brigade, he had been selected because he was not very intelligent, not motivated, and not suspicious of anything that he might see or hear. He would just follow his orders without question or curiosity. Nevertheless, he was nervous and on edge just like almost everyone else in the country. He could almost see an enemy lurking behind every shrub. Every shadow posed a threat. Every sound was something ominous.
His daydreaming was interrupted by a sudden flash in his peripheral vision. He wheeled around but saw nothing. Whatever it was, it was gone now. Then, he almost dropped his rifle to the ground. Suddenly, a tall man was standing directly in front of him on the lawn. The man looked straight into his eyes, and that look was not friendly.
He yelled out, “Halt! Who goes there?” At the same time, he brought his M16 up and pointed it at the person now standing less than twenty feet away.
Then it happened! As the tall man raised his arms above his head, PFC Wilson unintentionally fired his M16. The salvo was at almost point blank range.
That would have been bad enough, but PFC Wilson had been passing the time by aimlessly checking and rechecking his rifle. He was proud to have been issued live ammunition but wasn’t comfortable with the thought of using it. Unfortunately for him, he had unintentionally left the weapon in full-automatic firing mode.
Although PFC Wilson only pressed the trigger for a fraction of a second, the M16 in full automatic mode fired at least five rounds almost instantaneously.
The gravity shield that surrounded John Scott prevented him from any harm but the damage had been done. The shuttle craft, immediately behind him, detected the incoming fire and recognized it as a threat. The craft, faster than the eye could see, left stealth mode and fired a single photon bullet into PFC Wilson’s M16 rifle that he had been holding near his midsection. It exploded with a blinding flash of red light. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground in two charred pieces that crackled and smoked from the incredible heat generated by the photon weapon. It was a grotesque sight.
John was horrified, but he did not have the time to do anything except yell, “NO!”
Wilson’s gunfire alerted other brigade members who responded immediately with an assortment of weapons that included rifles, light machine guns, and even a fifty caliber machine gun.
John was yanked back inside the shuttlecraft. It then quickly rose about one hundred fifty feet into the air. In less than a few seconds of time, photon bullets, and photon torpedoes burst from ports around the perimeter of the craft soundlessly. The fiery red t
rails from the photon bullets flashed briefly and gave the remote craft an appearance of a giant spider with blood red legs.
Since the remote was not in stealth mode, all four Stryker vehicles as well as the individual troops had opened fire on the strange craft. In those few seconds of all out defensive action, the remote had responded to the incoming fire by taking out the entire platoon of soldiers and all four of the light armored vehicles. All were reduced to smoldering cinders leaving blackened areas smoking on the lawn and in the streets surrounding the White House.
Immediately after the firestorm, the craft rapidly settled back down on the South Lawn as if nothing had happened.
John, although devastated by what had just happened, yelled to the president and Jim, “Let’s go. We have to get inside the West Wing before the military can react and send reinforcements.”
The three of them dashed towards the entrance in a crouching run with their heads lowered.
****
Lucas Siegel had been a Secret Service agent for more than ten years and had served on the White House detail for two years of that time. He heard the disturbance on the South Lawn and being the closest, rushed to the south entrance. Just as he opened the door to see what was happening outside, he came face to face with three men rushing directly at him.
Lucas instantly reached for his service weapon and was about to fire when he stopped dead in his tracks and lowered his gun. He was face to face with the recently assassinated president of the United States.
Wilkinson recognized him and pointed a finger at his chest. “Stand down, Lucas, that’s an order.”
Lucas stood still with a shocked look on his face. The three men rushed past him and into the building. Lucas then followed them.
Once they were all safely inside, the president spoke to the stunned agent immediately and in a kindly voice, “Lucas. You have always served me faithfully. I know that you can’t believe your eyes, but you’re going to have to trust me. I’m alive and well, and I’m still your president.
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