by Drew Hill
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“Drew, how are the intercepts coming?” asked Oliver. “Any with a possible reference to a nuclear weapon?”
“It doesn’t look like it so far.”
“Landon, Levi, Malachi, anything suspicious on the videos from the Predators or satellites?” asked Oliver.
“Nothing yet,” said Landon.
“Nope,” agreed Levi and Malachi in unison.
Oliver knew they were doing all they could, but he still was exasperated. He couldn’t figure out anything from the case details and it frustrated him. He picked up a cup of coffee and read the file again.
Chapter 13
“Gerald, I checked the account. They paid. Make up some excuse about a family emergency and head to London. That’s our next target. Check into The Barnabas McGee Family Inn. Go with the same name. Take the present with you. Goodbye.” The man hung up before Gerald could say anything.
Gerald packed up and went downstairs. He went to the desk and checked out.
“Leaving so soon?” asked the lady behind the desk.
“Family emergency,” said Gerald.
He left the hotel, drove to the airport, and got a flight to London.
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“Here’s the profile on each of the candidates you asked for.” Amos handed the folder to Timothy.
Timothy looked through it for a moment. “Yes. It says Jeremiah Montley was the governor of Michigan for one term. He badly lost in the next election.”
Amos nodded. “Yes, that’s why I don’t think he’ll do very well.”
“Donald Morrison has run in the last three elections and lost badly each time. He is a former Congressman,” said Timothy.
Amos shook his head. “He’s probably not going to win the nomination. He lost before and he’ll probably lose again.”
“That leaves George Walburn and Dominic Walton,” Jackson pointed out.
“George Walburn is a solid candidate,” said Amos. “He was the governor of Texas and did very well. He is one of the candidates we’ll have to worry about.”
“What about Dominic Walton?” asked Timothy.
Amos sighed. “He’s the other candidate I’m worried about. He’s young but has been a lawyer for twelve years. He served as a New York senator for a few years. He’s most likely going to rival George Walburn for the nomination.”
“Do we have any polls yet?” asked Timothy.
“Yes, although not that many people have been polled yet.”
“Who’s winning?”
“Well, Mr. President, you’re at 35% of those surveyed. Dominic Walton is at 25%, and George Walburn is at 24%. Donald Morrison is at 8%, and Jeremiah Montley is at 6%. The other 2% is other small parties. That’s the poll so far.”
“Thank you, Amos. I’ll talk to you later. I’ve got to answer this call.” Timothy stood.
“Hello,” said Timothy after he left the room.
“We need you down in the Situation Room,” said Mark.
“Why? What’s happened?” asked Timothy.
“Edward Huffield, the prime minister of England, called. London’s been threatened with a nuke. Also, more military documents have been stolen.”
“I’ll be right there.” Timothy turned, found Jackson, and took off down the hallway, Secret Service agents following.
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Timothy walked into the Situation Room. Jackson followed him. Dan, Joe, Mark, Bill, Trent, John, and Frank were already there.
Timothy sat down. “What happened?”
“Edward Huffield called and informed us that a man called and threatened to destroy London with a nuke unless they paid fifty million American dollars into a Swiss bank account. Pretty much the same as what happened to France.” Mark shrugged.
“What’s he going to do?” asked Timothy.
“He said he’ll search all people entering London, ground all flights in or out of London, and try to find the nuke before tomorrow night, when the man will call again for his answer,” said John.
“We’ve promised all our help trying to find this nuke,” said Bill.
Timothy nodded. “Yes, of course. Anything else?”
“Some plans of a Virginia class submarine were taken this morning,” said Joe. “The camera shorted out, and during the few seconds it took for the back-up system to kick back on, the disk was removed.”
Daniel sighed. “The lock shows no sign of being tampered with.”
“What does that mean?” asked Jackson, puzzled.
“The burglar either had a key or is an expert lock picker,” Frank explained.
“I see.” Timothy stood. “Get all available agents working on finding the nuke. Also, call up Prime Minister Huffied and tell him to intercept all calls going in or out of London. If there is a man in the city, he might make contact with somebody outside the city.”
Timothy left the room troubled. How did Mark know about the plans of the F-22 being stolen? He said more plans had been stolen. I thought only John and I had known. He decided to schedule polygraph tests soon.
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“Gerald, call me back from another location,” said the man whose voice Gerald had come to recognize. The man hung up immediately.
Gerald walked out of the hotel and down the street. Then he called the number back. The man answered on the first ring. “Gerald?”
“Yes?”
“Have you plugged in the encryption device?”
“Yes, but why?”
“MI6 (British intelligence agency) agents are monitoring all calls going in or out of London, or at least that’s what our friend told me.”
“Okay, so what do you want me to do?”
“Just sit tight. Call me in two days. Don’t call me from the hotel. That way they can’t trace you to it. Did you get the cargo to the hotel okay?”
“Yes, the lead covering let the suitcase go right through the radiation sensors at the airport.”
“Alright. I’ll tell you what to do in two days.” And with that, he hung up.
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William Stanfield, an MI6 agent who was monitoring calls going in or out of London, called up his superior.
“David, this is William Stanfield.”
“Yes,” answered David Copman, the MI6 agent above William.
“I found two interesting calls. Both used an encryption device. The first was made from The Barnabas McGee Family Inn, and the second was made about two blocks away from the hotel. We’re working on cracking the code.”
“That’s interesting. Where was the caller calling from?”
“We’ve tracked it to Moscow where it was forwarded from to Saudi Arabia. We believe it was forwarded to there, but we’re not sure where it originated.”
“Keep me updated on all your progress. And pay special attention to calls from or to either of those numbers. Goodbye.” After he hung up, he thought for a moment, then called up another agent.
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“Hello, ma’am,” one of the agents greeted the hotel receptionist.
“Hello. Would you like a room?” asked the receptionist.
“No, ma’am, we’re with MI5 (British Intelligence Agency) and we’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Alright,” said the receptionist.
As they led her into a side room, ‘Martin Powers’ watched from the top of the stairs. How do they already know I’m here? How did they know I was in this hotel? Unless they intercepted the call. Good thing they were both encrypted. Hopefully they don’t crack the code until this job is done.
In the room, the agents were asking the receptionist some questions. “Have you had any guests check in since five P.M. yesterday?”
“Just one. A businesswoman from Switzerland checked in at nine last night.”
“Any other guests recently?”
“Three beside the woman. There was a salesman from France who arrived at two P.M. yesterday, a lawyer from the United States, who came just before the salesman, and a Jewish scholar from Greece who came two days a
go.”
“We’d like to take them all to the station for questioning, if you don’t mind.”
“Two of them are gone, but the lawyer and the salesman from France are still here.”
“What rooms are they in?”
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A police officer led Gerald to a room used for questioning in the police station. Gerald had wanted to leave the hotel immediately after hearing the MI5 agents introduce themselves to the receptionist, but he knew he couldn’t. The agents had come to question him right after questioning the receptionist.
It would look suspicious for him to leave right away without checking out. But the most important reason for him to stay was to keep on good standing with his boss. He had no illusions about the type of man he worked for. If he left, the boss would have him killed or at the least not pay him. So he would just have to endure this questioning and not appear suspicious.
“Martin Powers, please sit down,” said the police officer behind the desk.
“Alright,” Gerald said as he sat down. Inwardly he was thinking, How could they already know I’m the criminal? Perhaps they’re just questioning random people. Maybe they intercepted the call and found out I had been called while I was in The Barnabas McGee Family Inn. They probably found it curious that it was encrypted and were simply questioning random guests.
“Look, this is just a routine questioning. So relax. Okay?”
Gerald nodded.
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a shoe salesman. I sell shoes for Whirlwind 8s.”
“Did you bring any of your stock with you?”
“Just samples. If anyone wanted any, I would send them a shipment of their order in the mail.”
“Have you attempted to sell any of your merchandise yet?”
“No, I was taking a day to relax and enjoy the city. I slept in, and was about to head out when you called me in.”
“Did you recently take a trip to France?”
“Yes, I was there for a business trip, and this was my next stop.
“Okay, I think that’s about it. We might call you in later. You can leave now.” Gerald was led out of the police station by another officer. He got in his car and drove back to the hotel.
Chapter 14
Gerald went to a cell phone store and bought a small, cheap phone. He walked about five blocks away from his hotel and called his boss.
“Hello,” the man answered after several rings.
“Hi. This is Gerald.”
“Gerald? Did you get a new phone?”
“Yes, and I think you should too. I think they may have intercepted the call. I was called in for questioning today. So unless they’re routinely questioning everybody that has been to France recently, they probably intercepted the calls.”
“Good idea. Anything else?”
“No, just that.”
“Alright. I’ll call you tomorrow at ten. Be ready next to another hotel. It’ll throw suspicion on another area of London.”
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“Have you come up with anything?” asked William.
“No, we haven’t. We think we’re close to a breakthrough, though,” said a young MI6 agent named Robert Hill.
“Well, keep working.”
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“Timothy, tonight’s the first debate between you and Jeremiah Montley,” said Amos. “The issues will be taxes, schools, and religious freedom.”
“Alright. Are they also having a debate for the other party tonight?” asked Timothy.
“Yes, it starts at the same time as your debate. Yours will be in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania,” said Amos. “We’ll be leaving tonight. After the debate we’ll take a campaign tour of Pennsylvania, New York, and New Jersey.”
“Okay, that sounds good. Anything else?”
“Yes. The governor of Nevada is thinking about joining the race, but he’s not sure yet. And that’s all I have for you. Any changes you want for the two new commercials we’re airing tomorrow?”
“No, they’re fine the way they are. Okay. Thanks, Amos.” Timothy exited the room.
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“Hello, this is Edward Huffield, Prime Minister of England.”
“This is the man who called you earlier. Have you decided to pay the ransom?”
“How do I know you’re not bluffing to get fifty million dollars?”
“You don’t. But do you want to run the risk of thousands, possibly millions of your people being annihilated? Not just in London, but heavy winds would blow radiation across England. Do you want to be known as the man who let that happen to England?”
“So when do you want me to pay the ransom?” Edward pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the sweat off his brow.
“Tomorrow at nine o’clock. All fifty million dollars. That’s final.” And the man hung up. Edward sat in his chair and thought for several minutes. Then he picked up the phone again.
“Hank, I want you to begin evacuating as many people as you can. Start the planes up, clear the roads, and send in helicopters. I want to leave tonight.”
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Gerald’s phone rang. “Gerald, this is the boss. Start the timer. Get out of town as fast as you can. The roads and the airports will be crowded.”
“What about the Thames River?”
“Crowded with boats. I don’t care how long it takes you to get out of the country. Just do it. Then head to Iran. I’ve mailed some presents from our friend to the post office box. It’ll be waiting for you.”
Gerald went back to the hotel. The streets were crowded with people and cars. Everyone was panicked because of the evacuation announcement the Prime Minister had made because of the nuke threat. He finally got back to the hotel, went up to his room, and set the timer to four in the evening. It was eleven a.m. That gave him five hours to get out of town.
He went down to the front desk and checked out. The clerk wasn’t surprised, as over half the guests had already checked out. He exited the hotel and nearly knocked over an elderly lady who was rushing down the street.
He surveyed the scene. Cars crowded the streets. People crowded the sidewalks, hoping to get out of the city. He elbowed his way down the street until he got to the Thames River. Boats of every conceivable size were packed on the river.
He pushed and shoved his way to the airport. The place was packed with people. Lines to get on planes looked like it could take four hours to get on board. Gerald walked to a small alley. It wasn’t as crowded as the main streets. He walked down it and saw some trees. He sat under one of these and saw a small creek with a small dock. He got in one of the smaller boats, untied it from the dock, and paddled down the creek as the owner came out, shouting about how he was going to call the police. Gerald smiled to himself. Just try it. I’m sure they have their hands full.
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“London has been decimated by a nuclear weapon,” said the reporter. Timothy looked up, startled. The lady continued.
“At around 4 p.m., a large part of the city of London was instantly incinerated by the nuke. A man threatened to bomb London unless they paid a ransom of $50,000,000. The prime minister ignored the warnings and evacuated citizens all day up until the explosion. The prime minister escaped to an undisclosed location. The estimated death total is in the thousands and climbing by the minute as radiation sweeps across the city and the surrounding countryside.”
Timothy turned off the television and leaned back, stunned. A thought came to him, Well, if it was the group that kidnapped my son, they should be out of nukes. They only got one.
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A man walked to the door and unlocked it. He disabled the fingerprint scanner and opened the door before it automatically locked. He walked over to a filing cabinet and unlocked it. He leafed through some folders until he found what he was looking for. He pulled it out and stuck it in his pocket.
He walked over to the clock. He pulled it off the wall. He reached for the camera hidden in the wall behind where the clock had been and pr
essed a button. A disk popped out. He stuck this in his pocket and exited the room, restarting the fingerprint scanner as he left. The entire operation took less than three minutes.
Chapter 15
“Mr. President, there’s a visitor for you,” said the Secret Service agent stationed outside his door.
“Who is it?” asked Timothy.
“Frank Jones,” the man replied.
“Frank? Let him in.”
Frank walked in. Timothy looked up. “Do you have good news?”
“I’m afraid not,” replied Frank. “We still don’t have a clue as to who bombed London. We know it was a suitcase nuke and not a missile. We can only assume it was the man or group that called Prime Minister Huffield. But that’s not all.”
“What else?” asked Timothy.
“More plans were stolen last night. These were for a small radar device. Not a very big invention, but extremely complex. This is a bad loss,” said Frank.
“We didn’t lose the plans completely, though. We should have several copies.”
“No, we didn’t lose it, but now somebody else will have it. Imagine an Islamic extremist group with it.”
“How did the spy take the plans?”
“The person had keys to the door. They disabled the fingerprint scanner. They also had keys to the filing cabinet. They removed the disk from the camera hidden in the clock. They knew everything they needed to do. They wore gloves, too, so no fingerprints. So I’m pretty sure there’s a spy pretty high up.”
“I can try to take care of that.”
“How?” asked Frank, although he thought he already knew the answer.
“I’d like to ask you to submit to a polygraph test.”
Carl Arlington, the new Director of the CIA, entered and escorted Frank to the polygraph machine.
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“Carl, did any of them seem suspicious?” asked Timothy.
“No, they all passed,” said Carl Arlington, the former Deputy Director for Operations who had been promoted to the Director of the CIA that week. He was overseeing the polygraph tests.