Atlas (The Atlas Series) (5 page)

“There are no terrorists on this plane,” Ford stated carefully.

Huh
?

Kala didn’t think she’d heard him correctly. “A hoax?”

“This is the worst crank call ever,” Derek grumbled to himself.

Ford shook his head in the negative. A look passed between him and his men.

Something was very wrong.

And Derek was growing impatient. “Are we all going to stand around here like we’re at the water cooler or something? Or are we going to save the President?”

Kala felt the same way. A bunch of elite military and Secret Service huddled like they were about to play flag football. Everyone’s side arms out and ready to shoot. And more importantly, Kala was ready to shoot.

“That’s just it,” Agent Ford glanced at Derek, “The President
is
the threat.”

Kala and her team stared blankly at the Secret Service agent.

“Excuse me?” Lali asked. Normally, the girl kept her mouth shut, but claiming that the President himself was the actual threat was preposterous.

Ford wiped sweat off his brow and explained. “The President has five bars of C-4 strapped to his chest hooked up to a bomb with a remote trigger that only he holds.” Ford was obviously freaked. No wonder Ford and his guys had been conferring in the Galley. What could they do? Shoot the President?

That’s what Jack’s team was for.

Kala took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. This was an impossible situation. She wondered why in the hell the President would want to blow himself up!? And over Washington D.C.! He could kill thousands of innocent lives.

“Do we take him out?” Jack asked Ford. And not with the incredulity that Kala would have expected from Jack. It was almost as if he was asking for Ford’s permission.

Ford’s eyes were practically bugging out of his head. “We’ve been arguing about that for the last twenty minutes! It’s the President of the United States for God’s sake!”

Jack placed a hand on Ford’s shoulder, “That’s what we’re here for. You swore an oath to protect him at all costs. We didn’t.”

Kala was pretty shocked at how calmly Jack said that. It was in that moment that she knew something with absolute certainty.

Jack was there to kill the President.

He had known what his mission was way before they suited up, and Jack had been mentally preparing for it the whole time.

Jack nodded to Ford. “We’ve got it from here.”

Fords’s demeanor had slowly deteriorated since Kala’s crew arrived. He was an utter mess: sweating, shaking and clenched. Ford ordered his men to stand aside.

Jack motioned to Kala to stay behind him, and the others followed in their standard formation.

Very carefully, Jack opened the door that led to the President’s office.

What awaited them was terrifying.

President Jareth Wilton stood behind his desk. He was wearing a vest that held five grey bars of C-4 wired into a bomb. Wilton was a tall man, well over six feet with stark black hair and a long face. He was a young President, only fifty years old, but he looked like he’d aged twenty years since the last time Kala had seen him at a press conference, with dark rings under his eyes and worry lines on his forehead.

But his smile was what made the scene surreal and horrific. His thin lips were grinning as if he’d just climbed Mt. Everest.

President Wilton stared directly at Jack as the door swung open the rest of the way. “I figured it out! I figured out how to break it! No one will ever have to do what I’ve had to do again! Do you realize what this means?”

Kala knew then and there that the man was cracked. Figured what out? Break what? He was rambling like a mad man.

But the more frightening moment came when Jack responded back to Wilton. “Killing yourself is impossible. People have tried that in the past.”

Not only was President Wilton talking crazy, but apparently Jack knew his language and was responding accordingly.

Kala noticed that Wilton’s eyes lit up when Jack spoke. “You’re the one they sent to replace me.”

Jack nodded.

What
? Kala was seriously confused.

Kala spoke up, “What’s going on Jack?”

Replace him for what
?

Jack didn’t acknowledge Kala or the rest of the team, which was shifting uncomfortably behind him.

Wilton shook his head, serious. “You can’t do it. You have to let me detonate this bomb. We have to crash the plane! It’s the only way to stop it!”

“You can’t stop it!” Jack yelled back.

“I can and I will!” Wilton talked into an earpiece. “NOW!”

The plane nose-dived.

Everyone jolted forward and stumbled from the force of it.

Jack barked orders, “Lali get up to the Flight Deck and by any means necessary take over this plane!”

Lali paused for a second, she looked more confused than Kala felt, but after a moment to gain her bearings as the plane was falling fast, she managed to high-tail it out of the room and up to the Flight Deck.

Kala was sure they’d hit ground at any moment.

Jack aimed his gun at the President’s head.

Wilton was frantic. He ducked behind his large oak desk that was bolted to the ground.

“You can’t kill me! You’ll ruin everything!” Wilton yelled.

Jack turned to Kala and Derek. “No one shoots him but me!”

Kala kind of nodded, but she was in shock at the fact that they were about to flatten a part of the capital with Air Force One. She really didn’t care what Jack was saying. She couldn’t let President Wilton set off that bomb and kill thousands.

Jack shot at the desk, trying to hit the president, but he didn’t come close.

Only Kala could make a shot like that and not get them all killed from shooting a hole through the plane.

Kala and Derek made eye contact. Kala could tell Derek was thinking the same thing. He whispered so only Kala could hear, “Do it.”

Kala’s nod was barely perceptible.

Jack saw her and his eyes went wide. “Kala STOP!”

Kala shrugged. “I can’t let him do this, Jack. I’m sorry.”

Only the top of Wilton’s head was showing.

It was enough.

Kala took her shot.

Chapter Four

“My, my, this is quite a surprise. Welcome,” President Wilton said, offering Kala a seat.

Kala was sure that she was either dreaming or dead.

In front of her was President Wilton. He was at a small café, sitting in an intricately ornate iron-wrought chair, with an equally ornate table in front of him. A small espresso rested on the table. The café looked old, like they were in France or Italy, made of aged brick and ivy growing up the walls of the building. Cobblestone sidewalks and streets lined the whole area, making Kala feel like she’d walked into an old painting.

There was absolutely no one in sight except for Wilton, not even inside the café. It was like there’d been some sort of evacuation and only the President and Kala had been left behind.

An identical chair to the President’s sat empty across from him. “Trust me, you’re going to want to sit down.”

Kala knew it had to be some sort of delusion or dream. The plane must have lost oxygen or air pressure and Kala probably passed out. The President no longer had a C-4 bomb strapped around his chest. In fact, he looked quite relaxed in his dress shirt unbuttoned a few buttons and his khakis. Being the last person Kala saw before she blacked out, it made sense that she’d see Wilton here.

“You’re not dreaming. I assure you this is all quite real. I’m not the President though unfortunately that’s how you’ll see me. You should have seen what I looked like before Mr. Wilton took over. I was quite the Adonis,” Wilton said jovially.

Kala reluctantly sat down because at this point what else could she do? If this were a dream she’d wake up at some point. If she were dead… Well, she might as well enjoy the illusion of being alive for a bit.

Wilton looked happy that Kala complied and sat down. “You still think you’re dreaming, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

Kala didn’t answer. She didn’t feel the need to respond to a figment of her imagination.

Wilton sighed in amused frustration. “No one has come here
by accident
before. Every replacement is vetted from birth and trained their whole lives to do this job. By the time they get to me, I simply give them the explanation on how everything works and send them on their way. But you…” He left the thought hanging.

Wilton’s face went from amused to angry in about a millisecond. “SPEAK!” he screamed.

It was so real, Kala jumped back in her seat. “Why? You seem to be pretty comfortable doing all the talking.” Kala’s sarcasm never failed her.

Wilton laughed. “You’re going to be interesting, I can tell.”

Kala wished she’d wake up. This dream was getting weird.

Wilton was serious once more. “How many times do I have to tell you: you’re not dreaming!” His voice was insistent.

“You can scream ‘til the cows come home, but there’s no way this is real,” Kala said, hoping this would jolt her awake.

She felt her throat close, like invisible hands were strangling her. Kala clasped onto her neck, trying to pry off the force, but no air was coming through her passageways.

She knew then.

Wherever
this
was: it
was
real.

Kala nodded to Wilton, showing him that she believed him.

Her airways opened up, letting a flood of oxygen into her lungs.

Definitely real.

All sorts of scenarios ran through Kala’s head. Had she passed out and been dumped here? Where was the rest of her team? Why was the President of the United States talking to her at a café in the middle of nowhere? It just
couldn’t
be real. This had to be some sort of psychotic break from reality. But everything: from the feel of the metal chair beneath her, to the warm breeze on her face, to the…

…Ouch. She pinched herself.

Kala thought that maybe she was in some kind of “experiment” from the Compound. She had heard about all the different kinds of “research” being done by Generals Clifton and Turner in what was only known as the Black Wing. It was the only reasonable explanation for what Kala was experiencing. How could everything be so real, if it was perfectly obvious that none of it actually was?

“Have you just about finished that little debate in your head?” Wilton asked with a sly grin.

Kala wasn’t sure how she should respond to that. After all, if this were real, how would President Wilton know what she was thinking? This was insane!

But she responded, “Yes.”

Wilton didn’t look convinced, but he smiled regardless. “How much do you know about Greek mythology?”

Okay
. Not at all what Kala expected to hear from the guy, but she answered him anyway.

“Just what I learned in high school,” she confessed. Kala was never much for history class. Aside from the battles, Greek mythology was too wordy and poetic for her taste. It was like watching a Shakespeare movie. By the end of it, Kala knew what was happening, but the language confused her. It almost felt foreign at times.

“Know anything about Atlas?” Wilton raised an eyebrow, obvious to Kala that he hoped she’d say yes.

“Wasn’t he the guy that had to hold up some pillars or something?” Kala was pretty impressed with herself that she remembered that much. Of course, there was a more than fifty/fifty chance that she was confusing Atlas with someone else, but still, at least she had an answer.

Wilton sat back in his chair and took a sip of his cappuccino. He kind of laughed at the word
pillars
. “I suppose that’s one of the legends, yes, but there’s always a kernel of truth in fiction. The story had to come from somewhere, right?”

“Usually, I go on the assumption it came from someone’s imagination.” She wasn’t sure where Wilton was going with this line of thought, but when Kala thought of the word
Atlas
, her mind pictured maps and globes, not a Greek god or whatever.

“Well, Atlas
was
real. I’m him. Hello,” Wilton waved like he was a little kid greeting Kala.

Then he continued, “And I didn’t hold up pillars or the world as some histories profess. Like every piece of history, the stories are taken too literally.” Wilton explained this as if he were discussing a topic Kala would actually be interested in.

“Is there a point here?” Kala asked, her impatience getting the best of her.

Kala really wished she hadn’t said that.

If smoke could have come out of Wilton’s nose and ears it would have.

Kala placed her hands up in supplication. “Calm down. Don’t choke me or torture me, I’m just asking what the hell the President of the United States has to do with some old myth? I’m very confused.” Kala threw that last bit out to try and calm Wilton down. This whole situation was weird to say the least and to have to deal with Wilton’s temper tantrums every five minutes wasn’t something Kala wanted to do.