Super Sniper

by Rawlin Cash

  Hunter had always imagined that these presidential addresses were carefully choreographed productions, every word edited and re-edited until they barely held any meaning. He’d imagined that so many people were involved that no single voice was capable of cutting through the noise.

  And maybe that’s how they usually were.

  But today, here in this room, this was just Jennifer, one woman, speaking her own words to the camera. It was as intimate as a diary.

  “My fellow Americans,” she began, her voice holding a steady tone.

  Hunter looked at Fawn. She was watching the president as intently as he’d ever seen her watch anything. She hung on every word.

  He knew there were a lot of people in the country watching like that. It was times like these that showed the importance of leadership.

  What was it that held a nation together?

  What was it that made America?

  What stopped the nation from disintegrating into rival factions?

  What was it that made men in the street believe in a flag, in a law?

  What made them good?

  What kept them under control?

  Hunter wasn’t sure. He didn’t think anyone completely understood the answers to those questions, but watching Jennifer now, watching her address a nation that had just forty-five presidents in the first 240 years of its history, and three in the past three days, he sensed that this moment was getting close to those questions.

  “My name is Jennifer Blackmore.”

  That was an interesting opening, Hunter thought. Not one he’d seen coming, but now that she’d said it, it made sense. People, ordinary people, didn’t know what was going on.

  “Until this morning, I was the speaker of the House of Representatives. I was a congresswoman from California. I never put myself forward for election as president of this country, and no one has ever voted for me to be president.”

  She paused briefly. Hunter looked again at Fawn. Fawn was rapt.

  “This morning, in the presence of the Attorney General, the president of the Senate, and the National Security Advisor, I was sworn in as president of this great nation.”

  She paused again.

  “The reason I’m president is because our nation is under attack. There is an assassin out there who is trying to destabilize our democracy by destabilizing the one thing we can rely on. From the birth of our nation, we have always had a leader. Our first president was George Washington. Every child in this country knows his name. Two days ago, the president was Jeremiah Eugene Jackson. He was elected. And he was shot. It happened live on television during the State of the Union address. It was a shocking moment for all of us, but it was not the first time we lost a president to a gunman. On Good Friday of 1865, President Abraham Lincoln was shot dead by a gunman. In 1881, President James A. Garfield was shot dead by a gunman. In 1901, President William McKinley was shot dead by a gunman. On November twenty-second, 1963, President John F. Kennedy was shot dead by a gunman. We have suffered this before, and we have survived.”

  Jennifer read the words in a single breath and now she paused. She looked up at the camera. This address was being broadcast live to every television in the country. It was taking precedence over scheduled broadcasts on every network and radio station. A link to a live view was sent by text message to every cellphone in the country. It was being live streamed on the homepage of Google, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

  According to the technicians, it was the most simultaneously viewed broadcast in the nation’s history. Almost every adult in the country was watching.

  “The president is the head of our government. He, or she, is the person at the top of a pyramid that includes over two million full-time federal employees. The president is the symbol of the work that is carried out by these two million men and women who run our country.”

  She paused again and this time her eyes rose and met Hunter’s.

  She wasn’t supposed to do that. He’d been there when the technicians told her only to look up at the camera.

  For one second he felt the electricity of that gaze before she looked back down at her speech.

  “When the president is assassinated, it creates a moment of crisis for our constitution. The system depends on having one, clear leader at the top. A Commander-in-Chief. When one president dies in office, someone else has to step in and take up the reins immediately. Often, it happens in mere minutes. That person is normally the vice president.”

  Jennifer cleared her throat and again she looked up at Hunter. He held her gaze and she kept her eyes locked on him as she spoke the next words.

  “If the vice president is killed, we go to the next person in the line of succession. We have a list of names. If one person is killed, we go down the list.”

  She was still looking at Hunter. She was no longer reading the script.

  “The assassin out there right now is trying to mess up our list. They’re trying to kill so many people on the list that we will no longer know who’s up next. If that happens, we will be in a moment of true constitutional crisis. That is why I want to make things very clear. Because I might not hold this office for long. Our military is already doing everything in its power to catch this assassin, but if he gets to me before they catch him, this is the line of succession, and nothing he does can alter that.”

  She broke her gaze from Hunter and looked down at her list.

  “After the vice president was killed, I became president because I was Speaker of the House of Representatives. Meredith Brooks, the President Pro Tempore of the Senate, is next in line after me. If I were to die right now, she would take the reins. Congress is going to meet very soon to name a new Speaker of the House. When that happens, that person will take precedence over Meredith. If I name a vice president who is confirmed by the senate, that person will take precedence over Meredith and over the new speaker. I know this is a strange address to be making, but I want to be very clear. It is my belief that someone is trying to destabilize over two hundred years of democratic rule in this nation by attacking the very pinnacle of the pyramid. That is why I have come on here to make the situation clear. Whoever they kill, we will always know who’s next in line. May God keep you all safe, and may he bless us all, and bless America.”

  She ended the speech. The powerful spotlights went out.

  A technician stood and said, “We’re off air.”

  Jennifer looked again at Hunter and he felt as if the weight of the world was bearing down on him.

  “You,” she said to Hunter. “You heard every word. Promise me you’ll kill who’s doing this before they destroy our government.”

  Thirty-Two

  Fawn got goose bumps during the president’s address. Things had certainly taken a turn for the bizarre when the president was on air telling the nation who would take her place when she died. It was a testament to the fear in the air.

  “You made me a promise, Fawn,” Hunter said to her again.

  He wasn’t going to let it drop. She went to find Hale. He who was in a meeting with the Secret Service Director and the military over the measures to get the president out of the bunker and back to an official government location.

  “As long as the sniper’s out there,” the Secret Service Director was saying, “I think it would be more dangerous to move her than to remain here.”

  Hale was in agreement.

  It was the military who wanted to move her.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Fawn said.

  Hale looked relieved to see her. He took her off to the side so they could speak freely.

  “What’s going to happen?” Fawn said.

  “Nothing. They know they can’t move her without my sign off, and after what happened to Walker, no one’s going to overrule me. The president understands that there’s nothing more important than keeping her alive.”

  “So we’re sticking with the plan?”

  “Yes, if that’s okay with you?”

  Fawn had g
iven it some thought but she’d always known she’d do it. She’d long ago decided her life was in the agency’s hands. It was a decision that, once made, dictated everything else. It was one of the reasons, among many, that she wasn’t married, didn’t have any children, and in fact had no close relationships outside of work at all.

  “It’s okay with me.”

  “The president should be getting out of the suit she wore during the address now.”

  “It will fit me,” Fawn said.

  “Good. And the helicopter is already waiting outside.”

  “Hunter’s coming with me?”

  “Yes. I would have liked to keep him here.”

  “But then you decided that nothing was more important to you than keeping me alive.”

  Hale smiled. “Yes, of course, that, and I thought if you do manage to draw out the sniper, having Hunter in the middle of things would be our best chance of getting him.”

  “Even with the entire army on the front lawn?”

  “Especially then,” Hale said.

  Fawn took a deep breath. “Right,” she said. “I guess this is goodbye then.”

  Hale knew the risk she was taking. She was going to put on a mask, a wig, and a suit, and walk onto the lawn to board a helicopter in a situation identical to the one that killed Gary Walker.

  “And you’re going down to Mexico?” he said.

  “If I get that far.”

  “You will,” Hale said.

  He hugged her awkwardly and she left him before he had time to say anything else. She didn’t want an emotional scene with him.

  She went back to Hunter. He was speaking with the president. They stopped when she arrived.

  “I’m interrupting,” she said.

  The president looked at her. They were about the same height. Same build. Fawn had dark, short hair but the wig would give her Jennifer’s blonde locks.

  “I’m sorry they’ve asked you to do this,” Jennifer said.

  “It’s my job,” Fawn said.

  “I was there when Walker,” Jennifer’s voice trailed off.

  “That won’t happen this time,” Fawn said, although she had no way of knowing for certain. “The airspace is secure. There’s no way a drone could get through.”

  Jennifer held out her hand and Fawn shook it.

  “Thank you,” Jennifer said.

  There was a moment’s awkward silence and then Jennifer was called away. Fawn was alone with Hunter.

  “If anything happens,” he said, “is there anything you want me to do?”

  Fawn thought about it and realized there was nothing. No special person waiting for a message. No one to notify. Not even a cat to look after.

  She shook her head.

  “How about you?” she said.

  “Just the kid.”

  “Right.”

  “Find her somewhere good.”

  “I will.”

  Hunter waited in the next room while Fawn changed. Jennifer had left the suit out for her and Fawn put it on carefully. It was nicely tailored, an expensive fabric, but nothing Fawn would ever buy for herself. They’d left her a photo of Jennifer. Fawn did her own makeup, giving herself the skin tone and eyebrows of the president. She felt stupid when it was done but that didn’t matter. She put on some oversized sunglasses and the wig and tied an Hermes scarf over her head. It was a look more belonging to Marilyn Monroe than Jennifer Blackmore but it did the trick. It would have been very difficult for a shooter to tell she wasn’t Jennifer through even the most advanced optics.

  When she stepped out of the room, Hunter whistled.

  “You like this?” she said.

  He shrugged.

  “I should have known you were into blondes.”

  He looked at her. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Come on,” Fawn said. “I’ve seen your file.”

  He shrugged again and took a step closer. He showed her a piece of paper. On it was written, Matthew 13:50.

  “The decrypt?” she said.

  Hunter nodded. “King James Version.”

  Hunter crushed the piece of paper and put it in his mouth.

  Fawn smiled. She had no doubt the passage would be something ominous about hell fire and brimstone and the wrath of the Lord. You could always count on CIA agents to choose a cypher like that.

  “You ready for this?” he said to her.

  She looked at him and knew it might be the last thing she ever did.

  “Let’s get it over with,” she said.

  Thirty-Three

  Hale met them at the blast door.

  “You two ready?” he said.

  “What if no one shows?” Fawn said.

  “He’ll show,” Hunter said.

  “The chopper’s headed for Naval Station Norfolk. If he doesn’t show, you’ll both arrive there. Hunter will meet us at the president’s real location. You’ll go down to Mexico, Fawn.”

  Fawn nodded. Norfolk was a logical destination. It was the world’s largest naval station and the US Navy’s largest concentration of sea power. If a president was going to dash anywhere, it was a plausible contender.

  “He’ll show,” Hunter said. “I guarantee it.”

  Fawn knew he was right. All the steps had been taken to make this look like an attempt to get the president back to government controlled space. They’d brought the army and secret service in to the Greenbrier. They’d cleared an air route to Norfolk and were noisily patrolling it. Given what the assassins had already shown themselves capable of, they’d know about this flight, its route, and the capabilities of the helicopters in the formation. Hale had purposefully left enough time for a sniper in DC to get in position along the route.

  Their chopper wasn’t flying alone. There was a cavalcade of twelve Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk helicopters. The commander had been told he was ferrying two high-level officials who were possible targets of a new sniper system that had a firing range potentially in excess of six miles and did not require a line of sight. He’d also been told that targeting was potentially being done by drone.

  Both the army and the flight commander believed they were ferrying the president.

  The distance from the Greenbrier to Norfolk was under three hundred miles. It was already being patrolled by F-22 Raptors flying at a combat supercruise of mach 1.8 and equipped with the new infrared search and track sensors. It took each pair of jets just fifteen minutes to fly the route, and the entire route was flown every seven and a half minutes by one of six pairs of mustered jets.

  As well as maintaining supremacy over the space, the jets scanned constantly for drones.

  The twelve Black Hawks would fly at closer to two hundred miles-per-hour. They would be airborne for over two hours. They were crewed by two pilots and two gunners. Each helicopter would be armed with either M240 machine guns, M134 miniguns, or two GAU-19 gatling guns. They would also be armed with either AGM-114 Hellfire air-to-surface missiles, or AIM-92 Stinger air-to-air missiles.

  It was a formidable cavalcade but Hunter knew a single bullet could easily break through.

  They would be at their most vulnerable as they boarded the chopper.

  Hunter was the first to step outside. He passed through the blast door just as a pair of Raptors flew over, adding to the deafening noise of the twelve choppers.

  He looked up at the sky and scanned for signs of a drone. He wouldn’t have seen one even if it was there, but the raptors would have.

  Through his earpiece he had a direct line with the mission commander.

  “All clear?” he said.

  “All clear,” mission command said.

  He went back in through the blast door. Hale and Fawn were standing there.

  “You ready, madam president?” he said to Fawn.

  Their chopper was a two hundred foot dash from the door.

  “Ready,” she said.

  Hunter led the way and signaled to the pilot. The pilot rose his hand. Hunter gestured for Fawn to come forward. He ke
pt his eyes trained on the sky above but knew if he saw anything, it was already too late.

  He was armed with a Beretta M9 service pistol which would be next to useless against a drone at high altitude.

  Another pair of raptors flew over and everyone unconsciously ducked their heads.

  “All clear,” mission command said in Hunter’s ear.

  Hunter pulled Fawn forward and they ran for the chopper. At every moment, he was ready for her head to jerk and her body to go limp.

  The chopper was already revving its engines and the propellors whipped air down on them as they passed underneath. As soon as they were on board, they lifted off.

  Seconds later they were moving forward, flying east over the Virginia hills, gaining altitude.

  Hunter kept his eyes on the sky around them but felt his body relax. The worst was over.

  “Looks like you’ll get to keep your promise,” he said to Fawn.

  She looked at him and knocked two times on the side of the chopper for luck.

  The two gunmen were in position and were surprised Fawn was not the president.

  “Decoy,” Fawn said.

  Immediately, some of the tension in their bodies lifted.

  They were seated on the edge of the passenger platform, their heavy guns trained on the ground below, Vietnam style. It was strange to have those guns pointed at the citizens of Virginia and West Virginia, but these were strange times.

  “You think they’re going to make a strike?” Fawn said as they passed over the town of Covington.

  Hunter had been sure they would, but now he was less certain.

  “I thought they’d have tried already,” he said.

  They looked down at the landscape. The snaking line of Interstate 64 stretched across the land, roughly in the direction they were traveling, and to the south were open mines and quarries.

  “Hunter, we’ve got something,” a voice said in his earpiece.

  “What is it?”

  The channel switched and he was speaking directly to the pilot of one of the Raptors.

  “I’ve got three drones, military grade, just above Appomattox,” the pilot said.