Designated Survivor (10 page)

“We can’t do that until we know who you are,” Senator Thomson said.

“The name’s Grace. I’m with Homeland Security.”

There was commotion above then another voice came.

“Grace, it’s Jim Monroe,” the director of the FBI said.

“Director, good to hear your voice,” Grace said. “Is everyone okay up there?”

“We are. The president is secure,” Monroe said. “We’ve had no contact from anyone since the doors got barricaded. There’s no cell service and we’re completely cut off. What the hell’s going on out there?”

“Long story,” Grace said. “Let’s just say we have a lot of cleaning up to do. We need to keep communications limited. Can anyone else hear me right now?”

“There’s a few Congressmen nearby,” Monroe said.

“Move everyone back so we can talk.”

Grace saw light from the other end of the hole and the faint sound of FBI Director Monroe ordering people to move away from the hole.

“Okay, I’m back,” Monroe said. “Far from secure on my end, but it’s the best we can do right now.”

“That works,” Grace said. “The Capitol was taken by an unknown terrorist force. We believe we have the building secured but there’s complications.”

“Such as?”

“The entire House is wired with C4 and we don’t know who has the button,” Grace said.

It was quiet as the director took this in, knowing he couldn’t ask too many questions without alerting everyone around him to the situation.

“What’s our play?” Monroe said.

“We have a plan in place to get everyone out,” Grace said. “It’s not gonna be pretty, but it’s all we got right now.”

Grace continued to explain the plan.

“Sounds risky,” Monroe said. “But you know more than we do right now, so let’s go.”

“One more thing, sir,” Grace said. “We can’t have any communications from the evacuees. We need to make sure nobody outside the building knows a rescue is underway or the explosives might get triggered.”

“What do you want me to do?” Monroe said.

“Collect every cellphone in the room,” Grace said. “Turn them off and leave them there. No exceptions.”

“That’s going to be tricky,” Monroe said. “This gang is eager to get in front of the cameras.”

“It’s a non-starter. If they want out, they need to leave all phones,” Grace said. “Do it however you need. Have every last one of them searched before they come through the hole.”

“Will do,” Monroe said.

CHAPTER 15

“This isn’t going to be easy, and each of you will be on your own,” Grace had his team gathered in the hallway below the House. “We need to keep everyone secure and away from outside communications.”

“How are we gonna do that?” Avery said.

“FBI Director Monroe has identified a few friendlies to help. There’s a few Secret Service officers in there as well,” Grace said. “I’ve worked with Monroe before and I trust him. We’ll spread his people out through the group to move everyone along and watch for cellphones.”

“We know we can trust them?” Chip said. “Looking at the floor upstairs, there’s a lot of ‘friendlies’ that ended up not being so friendly.”

“We have to trust them. It’s our only chance,” Grace said. “Just do your best. Everyone know where you’re going?”

Nods, yes’s, one “screw you” and other methods of affirmation were given.

“Okay then,” Grace said. “Be safe, be vigilant, and I’ll see you all at the other end.”

He looked at Holden. “You ready?”

“Damn straight,” Holden said.

“Then let’s do it,” Grace said.

The six men and one woman divided and went around the corners away from the square of explosives lining the ceiling. Holden held the black box with the hand crank and looked back down the hall for a moment then ducked around the corner.

“Fire in the hole!” Holden said.

He gave a quick crank to the handle on the black box. The spark travelled down the thin wire and crossed the fifty feet to the detonator stuck into the burnt orange plastic explosives on the ceiling.

The blast sent a wall of smoke, plaster, wood and sewer water both ways down the hallway. While the dust was still thick in the air, Holden ran down the hall to check the opening he’d made as the rest of the team began pulling the desks they’d gathered from all of the offices down towards him.

“Everyone okay?” Grace looked up into the hole.

“All present and accounted for,” Monroe said. “That was impressive.”

Grace began to see the edges of the hole, a perfect ten-foot by ten-foot opening.

“Great. Get your groups queued up and keep them orderly,” Grace said. “We don’t have room for anyone to rush us.”

“We’re all ready as soon as you are,” Monroe said.

The desks were stacked and stabilized as Holden climbed to the top and stood up into the chamber of the House of Representatives.

“Hey there,” he said. “I’ll be your tour guide today.”

Director Monroe stepped forward and down into the hole, forearms connected to Holden’s. Once down one step he turned back up and watched as Holden helped a man and a woman through the hole then Monroe helped them down the next two desks until they reached the floor. The woman dusted her dark blue jacket off then looked up at the man standing in front of her.

“Madam President, this is Grace,” Director Monroe said. “He’s responsible for getting us out of here.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here, Mr. Grace,” President Abrams said.

Grace grinned and decided not to correct her.  He looked up at Holden on top of the desks and nodded then turned and headed west through the hall, President Abrams behind him with her lead Secret Service agent Rick Haggard at her side and Director Monroe following.

“This way,” Grace said.

Holden continued to grab arms and help people down through the hole and the rest of the team guided them to the floor.

Grace reached the stairs and went down a level, his Sig Sauer assault rifle raised as he cleared the way. Haggard and Monroe followed ten feet behind with the president.

They approached the door to the closed off railway they’d entered the Capitol through then moved into the dark tunnel and reached the electric subway cart. On board, Grace turned on the battery pack they’d used hours earlier and pushed the lever forward to put the transmission into gear and it lurched and began its slow trip back to the Mayflower Hotel. With fewer people on board it moved slightly faster.

“Your team was first into the Capitol?” Monroe said.

“We were,” Grace said. “Richard Graham is in the middle of planning an all out raid on the building and we went in to recon but ended up pulling you out.”

“How many people were holding the Capitol?” Monroe said.

Grace looked at the President then back to the FBI director.

“One,” Grace said. He continued to fill the President and FBI director in on what had taken place. Sixteen minutes later the subway cart reached the platform at the Mayflower Hotel.

“When we came through here before, the lobby was packed,” Grace said. “We need to extract without being seen. Madam President, I’m going to need you to put this on,” he picked up the grey pest control coveralls Netty had worn when they entered the building. He handed two more pairs to Monroe and Agent Haggard.

Grace dropped his backpack and opened it and pulled out two air filter masks he’d taken from the pile of tools in the Rotunda.

“You two are a lot higher profile than me, so wear these. Keep your eyes down and keep moving,” Grace said.

“Do you have a hat?” President Abrams said.

He reached back into his bag and grabbed a dirty Washington Nationals baseball cap and handed it to her. She pulled her shoulder length hair back and tucked it up inside the hat and pulled the brim down low.

“At least it’s the Nats,” she said. “Let’s go.”

“That hat is so going on eBay when we’re done here,” Grace said.

They moved through the boiler room and to the door into the service hall. Grace turned to head towards the lobby.

“Hold on,” President Abrams said. “This way.”

She started walking the other way down the hall, Agent Haggard right beside her.

“This isn’t the plan,” Grace said. He began to chase after them down the hallway, Monroe behind him.

“Trust me,” President Abrams said.

They reached the kitchen and Abrams moved quickly through the maze of equipment. At the back of the kitchen was a door with a crash bar and a red sign informing them an alarm would sound if the door opened. She pushed the crash bar and swung the door open into an alley that ran between the hotel and the office building next door. The cold blast of air hit them from the winter darkness outside.

“How did you . . . ” Grace said.

“I speak here at least once a month,” she said. “This is how they bring me in and out. The kitchen staff uses the alley to smoke so the alarm was disconnected years ago.”

“If the President thing doesn’t work out for you, I can make room for you on my team,” Grace said.

They moved through the alley and hit 17
^th
Street and turned left. At the next corner they turned left again onto Desales Street. The black Mercedes Sprinter van and Homeland Security car were parked midway down the block.

It was still an hour until sunrise and Grace had the van on and was getting ready to pull out of the parking space. He reached over and hit the button for the car stereo, already set to the local news station WTOP.

“It appears at least a hundred troops are on the steps of the building facing the mall and even more on the backside. According to our military consultants we should expect to see blasts come from each of the doors at the same time as Special Forces attempt to breach the Capitol for the first time since the siege began at 8:20pm last night.
”

“Shit, they’re breaching the Capitol,” Grace turned it louder as his passengers moved closer to hear it.

“
There they go! All the doors blew within a second of each other and the soldiers are going in. It appears they’re wearing gas masks—
”

Grace hit a button on his cellphone and listened to it ring once then Arrington’s voice come through on the other end. “Where the hell are you?” Arrington said.

“We just left the Capitol,” Grace said. “You have to call off the attack.”

“We can’t, it’s--” The sound of the explosion came through the stereo speakers and from outside the van as they felt the ground shake below them. The cellphone went dead.

“
Oh god, the roof of the Capitol has collapsed. Special Forces are retreating but many were caught in the explosion.”

“Did they get out?” President Abrams said. “Did everyone get out?”

He hit the button on the radio on his belt and began calling out names. “Holden, Avery, Chip. Anyone there? What’s your status?”

Nothing came back.

“Netty, Corbin? Anyone? Levi?”

“What’s wrong?” Monroe said.

 “I don’t know yet. I can’t get hold of my team,” Grace said. “Hopefully they’re all in the tunnels and far enough away from the building. Right now we just need to get you out of the city.”

Grace threw the van into gear and began working his way through the streets. He turned right onto 17
^th
then again onto K Street to see several police cars racing down the road with lights and sirens on. The van made the turn to head to the ramp behind the Kennedy Center that would put them on the bridge to 66 West out of D.C. when the police cars turned and began blocking the road.

“They’re going to shut the bridges down,” Grace turned right and hit the gas.

“Where are you going?” Monroe said. “They’ll let us through.”

Grace was shaking his head while watching the rear view mirrors as he drove. “We can’t risk it. You haven’t seen what’s been going on out here.”

“At least let someone know we’re out,” Monroe said.

“Cellphones are dead,” Grace said.

“It’s procedure in case of a terrorist attack,” Haggard said. “All cellphone signals are shut down to keep any bombs from being remotely detonated and so the terrorists can’t communicate with each other.”

Grace turned on the radio clipped to his belt and continued to call out the names of his team members, waiting for responses, but only heard static. He moved through the city to get to Canal Road running along the Potomac to the Beltway.

CHAPTER 16

Arrington walked back into the control room to see Graham and William talking in the corner and went to the conference table.

“What’s going on over there?” Arrington said.

“No idea,” Leighton said. “Getting pretty heated, though.”

“Anything from the news about survivors yet?” Arrington said.

“Nothing. All stations are reporting the Special Forces breach teams are likely all dead,” Darby said. “That’s all they know how to report, death, whether it’s confirmed or not.”

Richard Graham walked back over to the table with William following behind him. He put his hands on the back of the large leather chair at the head of the table and stared down at the floor then looked up to the group.

“I need to be sworn in,” Graham said.

“What?” Arrington said. “You don’t want to wait until teams can get in to look for survivors?”

Graham looked up at all the screens showing the different news channels’ coverage. The sun was coming up over the city and the video feeds were clear and bright. The roof of the building over the House was gone and three of the four walls had collapsed in the explosion.

“I think we all know what they’ll find,” Graham said. “Our Nation needs a leader, and right now I’m all they have. William has already made some calls and a news crew will be here anytime now.”

“Jesus Christ, Richard,” Darby said. “Is this really what you want to do? LBJ at least waited two hours before being sworn in after Kennedy was killed. It hasn’t even been ten minutes.”

Graham looked over at William then back. “Yes, it is. And, Amanda, I believe you’re an attorney?”