Presidential Shift (11 page)

Falls Church, VA

12:22am, December 20
^th

“Did I hear that right? Did he say the president?” asked Gaucho. The other men in the SUV nodded. “I better call Travis.”

+++

A driver pulled a black Lincoln Navigator up alongside Cal’s vehicle. “We’ll follow you?” suggested Quailen, standing on the other side of the vehicle, now wearing a heavy overcoat and a thick scarf that obscured half his face and muffled his voice in the cold air.

Cal nodded and went to open his car door. As he did, a loud
SPLAT
sounded, followed by a high-pitched scream.

Cal and Daniel crouched and moved around the black SUV. Stricklin stood screeching, illuminated by the bright porch light. Blood covered his face and front, as he looked down to where his uncle’s body lay, head ripped in half like a dropped watermelon.

All of a sudden, security personnel swarmed the area, yelling for Cal and Daniel to get down on the ground.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys. We’re not armed,” calmed Cal.

“Get down on the ground! Get down now!” came the repeated screams.

Cal looked at Daniel. Both men eased their way down to the ground as Cal whispered, “Gaucho, congressman down, unknown shooter.”

+++

The helicopter banked to the south.

“Nice shot.”

“Thanks. Easy.”

The two men grinned as they settled in for the short flight back.

+++

“We didn’t see where the shot came from. It could’ve been one of the guards with a silenced round for all we know,” reported Gaucho.

“What are they doing with Cal and Daniel?” asked Travis.

Luckily, they’d kept all drones in the air during the wait, monitoring the situation on the ground. “It looks like they’re loading them into one of the vehicles. Want us to bust in there?”

Travis didn’t want a gun battle in the middle of the affluent neighborhood, but he didn’t want his men captured either. “Follow them and we’ll play it by ear. I’ll wake the rest of the team and support you with whatever we can.”

“You got it. All teams, time to duck and trail,” Gaucho ordered, watching, waiting.

+++

“Where are you taking us?” Cal asked the driver. They’d been cuffed and latched to the child car seat tether anchored in the back of another Lincoln Navigator. The last he’d seen of the dead congressman was when they’d hauled his body away, along with his piss-stained nephew.

“Keep your mouth shut,” said the burly man in the passenger’s seat.

“Fine by me. Just wanted to make some pleasant conversation, fellas. You know we’re not the bad guys, right?”

No response came from the driver or his companion. Cal could only hope that the cavalry wasn’t far behind.

+++

“What happened?” Vice President Zimmer asked into the phone.

Travis told the former Senator everything he knew. “We’ve got a team following. Did you know anything about the president asking for a meeting?”

“I didn’t,” admitted Zimmer, wondering what else he wasn’t being told.

“I think you better talk to him. I’ll monitor the situation and keep you posted.”

Zimmer was worried. The first lady’s life threatened. A congressman murdered in the middle of a Virginia suburb. Cal and Daniel whisked away by a group of mercenaries.
What next?

+++

Maynor was monitoring the situation from the SSI safe house. He felt helpless listening to radio chatter, wishing he could do something, anything to aid his fellow Marines. An idea came. He picked up his phone.

+++

“I didn’t request a meeting. Who told you that?” asked the president, still wearing workout clothes from a late night basketball game with some of the White House staff.

Zimmer relayed what Travis had told him.

“Quailen is dead?” blurted the president.

“I’m afraid so, sir, and they’ve got Cal and Daniel.”

“Who are
they
?” It wasn’t good. The president had entrusted Stokes with the ability to take action. Just the thought of his asset falling into the wrong hands made his stomach turn.

“I have no idea, sir, I’m still new to the whole thing. Who would you like me to contact?”

“No one. Let’s see if Cal can get out of this himself.”

“But—.”

The president raised his hand to stop the forthcoming rebuttal. “Look. If there’s anything I’ve learned in the past year, it’s that you should let good men do what they do best and leave them to it. The second we press the alarm button, half the politicians in this town, and not to mention the media, will know what’s going on. I say we let SSI take care of their own.”

Zimmer didn’t like it, but he saw the president’s point. It was what SSI did. Covert action. There was no one better group to rescue Cal than his own men. Zimmer exhaled. It was going to be another long night.

Northern Virginia

1:10am, December 20
^th

Cal kept up the charade and chatted like he was on a road trip with friends. He could tell that the driver was carefully covering his tracks, turning at the last second, zooming through a yellow light, backtracking.

“You guys are pretty good at this. You learn it overseas? Army?”

The guards continued to ignore his questions, instead glancing at the side mirrors.

“You have any water up there? I’m kinda thirsty.” Knowing that his team was listening, Cal wanted to make sure they knew he was okay. The last thing he wanted was for them to make a foolish decision and do something reckless in the middle of a D.C. suburb.

+++

SSI’s drones made the chase almost easy. Instead of having to stay within eyeshot, which would’ve been hard to do inconspicuously with the near empty streets, their vehicles maintained a loose web, never crossing paths with the vehicle being followed.

Guacho tapped his fingers on the dash. He knew Cal and Daniel could take care of themselves, and yet something felt wrong. It was like going on a raid knowing that you were probably walking into a trap.

It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t leave their men. Gaucho cracked his neck and focused on the picture streaming from his tiny drone.

+++

Maynor scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen table. Next, he downed the coffee sludge in the bottom of his mug, grabbed the keys to his rented Harley, and walked out into the chill. He had an appointment to keep.

+++

Their vehicle was just passing a hospital, but Cal couldn’t make out the name from the distance. The driver pulled the wheel hard to the left. They went under a large hospital walkway, and then sped down a ramp. “Can you guys drop me off at the ER? My stomach’s a little queasy from your shitty driving.”

The man in the passenger seat whipped around, pistol drawn, aimed at Cal’s face. “Time for you to shut your mouth, pretty boy. We’re almost there.”

+++

“Where did they go? Does anyone have eyes on?” asked Gaucho.

“Lost them when they went under that overpass,” came the voice of one of the vehicles. “They didn’t come out the other side.”

“Me too. Anyone picking up audio?” said another SSI operator. They’d maintained radio silence, wanting to hear Cal, who was broadcasting on the same frequency through his earpiece. His voice had gone silent.

+++

Cal looked back to see a motorized gate slam down behind them. They were in an underground parking garage, except that there weren’t any other cars. Worse still, Cal couldn’t hear anything except a bit of static in his earpiece.

The Navigator eased it’s way across the huge expanse, passing dimly lit pockets. No signs of life. Up ahead Cal saw a double door, light streaming from its seams.

“We headed to those doors?” asked Cal, hoping that the rest of the team could still hear him. No verbal answer came, but a smack from the butt of a pistol did. Cal’s head snapped back to hit the leather seat behind him.

“I told you to shut up,” sneered the man with the gun.

Cal glared at the man, hoping to have the chance to repay him soon.

+++

Gaucho directed his driver to pass by, casually. They saw the ramp underneath the walking bridge where they’d lost contact. He picked up his phone and dialed the only person he could think of who might be able to help. The call picked up on the first ring. “Yeah?” came the hoarse voice.

“Neil, we need your help.”

+++

Four men, dressed identically to the escorts, also armed with submachine guns, emerged from the far door and helped unload Cal and Daniel. They were led through the double doors and into the brightly lit hallway. It smelled new. There were places along the wall that still had fresh drywall patches and had yet to be covered in paint.

Cal and Daniel exchanged looks. A second later, Cal felt a hand over his mouth and a familiar scent in his nostrils. He struggled, but couldn’t stand up to the strength of the two thugs holding him or the power of the drug now entering his airway.

Cal and Daniel made the rest of the trip unconscious, each carried by a pair of mercenaries.

+++

“I’ve got the blueprints for the hospital. It looks like they just added a new wing,” confirmed Neil.

“What about the parking garage? Is there another way in?”

Neil panned his view, maneuvering through the three dimensional schematic. “I’ve got multiple elevators and stair wells, but…hold on. It looks like there’s a…yeah, there’s a pathway that leads up to the main hospital and up to…”

“The helo pad,” Gaucho finished with a groan, as he looked up at the sound of a helicopter thumping overhead. The aircraft rose and banked to the south. “Shit.”

Vienna, VA

1:56am, December 20
^th

“Well, Mr. Maynor—.”

“Please, call me Don.”

The well-spoken crew-cut giant smiled. “I guess we got lucky on this one, Don. Perfect timing.”

Maynor shrugged. “For me too. Like I said, came up here to visit some old buddies, but,” he feigned an embarrassed look, “Lost a little too much money in a few card games. I won’t even mention the chick I met at the bar. Need to make some money to get me back home. Luckily I called my buddy and he said you all might need some part time help hauling.”

“And you said home is Florida?”

“Alabama. Orange Beach to be exact,” corrected Maynor, sipping on the cup of coffee he’d been offered from the old pot percolating in the corner of the dingy trailer.

“Isn’t that where the concert bombing was?”

Maynor nodded. “Sure was. Happened right before I left to come up here. Damn shame.”

The big man nodded grimly. “Well, everything in your record checks out. No DUIs. No recent arrests. Your friend was right. We do need help. Just got a rush job. Big contract. You’re lucky you called. We’ve got the other two contractors and had another coming at eight in the morning. You’d be taking his spot. How’d you know to call us so late?”

“Just gave it a try. Figured I could leave a message for the morning. Imagine my surprise when you picked up.”

The big man chuckled. “Like I said, big contract. That means long hours for me.” The man, who’d introduced himself as Gary, made some notes on Maynor’s paperwork and stamped APPROVED in red at the top. “You ready to head over to take a urine test? Last step before we let you get a bit of rest and then you’ll hit the road.”

“Sounds good to me. Need to take a piss after all that coffee anyway.” Maynor followed the hiring manager out the door.

+++

“What happened?” asked Neil, still scanning the hospital blueprints.

“A hundred bucks says they took Cal and Snake Eyes off in a helo. Neil, I need you to activate their beacons,” said Gaucho.

Neil flinched. The thought of the homing beacons he’d invented and tested on himself still brought the phantom pain from where his ankle used to be. He now wore a prosthesis in its place, due to an old enemy severing his foot to get rid of the beacon implanted there.

After Neil’s kidnapping, most of the operators and all the top leaders within SSI had agreed to have two such devices implanted. The reason for multiple beacons being twofold. First, the locator could only be used once for a three-hour period due to the high output signal emitted. After that, they would have to be extracted and replaced. Second, they’d learned a lesson with Neil’s capture, and Todd Dunn, promising never to be without a backup again, suggested they implant two in different locations on each man. Redundancy. The locations of each beacon was a tightly held secret.

Neil pushed his chair over to another bank of computer screens and entered his access codes. Seconds later, Neil activated Cal and Daniel’s beacons. He waited for the GPS locators to engage.

+++

“Here you go.” Gary handed Maynor a plastic urine specimen cup. “Just bring it out when you’re done.”

“No pecker checker?”

“What was that?”

Maynor grinned. “Sorry. In the Corps we used to call the guys that watched us taking piss tests pecker checkers.”

Gary laughed. “I like that. No. No pecker checkers here.”

Maynor locked the bathroom door behind him, setting the cup on the sink. He checked his cell phone for calls or messages. Nothing.

Seeing no other options, he set himself to the task. A minute later, he emerged, sample in hand, only to be greeted by two nasty looking thugs pointing submachine guns at him.

“Did I miss something, fellas? Just taking a leak.”

Gary walked back into the trailer. “Please come with us, Mr. Maynor.”

The two men took up positions behind the Marine, one nudging him with the muzzle of his weapon. Maynor followed Gary into the cold, hands in the air, still holding the warm cup of piss.

+++

Neil followed the two tiny dots as they traveled across the screen. He’d alerted Travis, who was now on video along with Todd Dunn, Marge Haines and Dr. Higgins on one of the Neil’s computer monitors.

“Where’s he going Neil?” asked Travis.

“The helicopter keeps turning. He might be trying to avoid air space restrictions.” Neil panned out, trying to make some sense of the helicopter’s path. Much like the chase after the Navigator, the helicopter kept juking like it was trying to lose a tail.

“Is Gaucho following?” asked Dunn.

“As best he can. The aircraft’s just too fast.”

“What about the hospital? Did they leave anyone behind to take a look around?”

“Gaucho thought it would be better if they followed the beacons. Said it might cause too much of a commotion if they tried breaking into the parking garage. I think he’s right,” said Neil, still focused on the moving map in front of him.

All they could do now was watch and wait. The aircraft would have to land. Hopefully Gaucho’s team could get there in time.

+++

Maynor was led into a third trailer. The smell of disinfectant hit him as they walked in the door. “Strap him down over there,” ordered Gary.

“Does that mean I failed the piss test?” asked Maynor, not backing down, despite the amount of firepower aimed in his direction.

“Take off everything above his waist and strap him to the gurney. The others will be here soon.”

The two thugs moved to do as instructed, but the scrappy Marine had other plans. With the cup of piss in hand, whose lid he’d loosened on the short walk over, he threw the contents in the face of the closest guard, who recoiled in disgust.

The second man hesitated long enough for Maynor to deliver a crushing boot to the man’s knee. The guard crumpled, gun flying to the side as Maynor moved to meet the first man who was still wiping his face. Sliding into a kneel, the former Lance Corporal led with his fists, swinging time after time into the man’s groin, finally felling the groaning enemy.

Maynor swung around, looking for Gary. He was waiting.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, old man,” said Gary. “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t want to get my shirt dirty.” The huge man carefully unbuttoned his dress shirt, revealing a chest, torso and arms covered in tattoos; tattoos that Maynor knew depicted white power .

+++

The helicopter touched down in a field next to the small mobile home complex in Fairfax, VA. Two bodies were unloaded and carried toward the trailer sitting a hundred yards from the impromptu landing zone. In under a minute the helicopter was back in the air, moving swiftly toward the Potomac.

+++

“You hear that? We’re about to have company. I’d say you have about thirty seconds to get your licks in,” laughed Gary, who loomed over Maynor like a mighty bear. The sound of a helicopter came and went. The machine guns were out of reach. The big man would get to him before he got his hands on a weapon.

Maynor smiled. “Okay, you big fucker. Show me what you’ve got.” He stepped forward.

+++

The small caravan tore along the deserted roadway, following Neil’s directions. “Come on, man, we gotta get there,” murmured Gaucho, willing his team to close the gap.