First Strike (12 page)

“Yes, sir. We need your authorisation key to bypass the President's own personal nuclear codes, and launch a preemptive attack against mainland China. You have to authorise a first strike.”

There had been silence for several minutes. Jade was beginning to think that the attackers had given up and decided just to leave them inside the secure room.

But then it started again. Only this time it was different. Instead of an angry hammering of metal on metal, there was a polite knock. Like they wanted to be let in.

“Can you hear me in there?” The voice was muffled but clear, slightly accented. “I hope you can, because I've brought a friend to visit. Tell them your name, young man.”

There was silence. Then, louder and angry: “I said tell them your name!”

Jade shuddered as there was a cry of pain.
Please let it not be—

“My name is Rich.” His voice trembled.

Jade's legs went weak. “They've got my brother,” she said.

“You have ten seconds to open this door, Mr President,” said the man's voice. “Unless you want the blood of this poor child on your hands. The clock is ticking.
One…Two…
”

“Decision time,” said the President.

“
Three…Four…
”

“You cannot open that door, sir,” said Chuck, ashen-faced.

“
Five…Six…
”

“No matter who it is they've got out there, you cannot open the door.”

“
Seven…Eight…
”

The President nodded. He looked at Jade, his face
drained of all colour and expression. “I know what I have to do. And I'm sorry.”

“
Nine…
”

Jade closed her eyes and turned away.

“
Ten.
”

“Wait!” the President shouted. “We're coming out.”

Jade opened her eyes, almost sobbing with relief.

“Mr President,” said Chuck White quietly.

“I know, Chuck—but what can I do?”

“It's all right, Mr President. For what it's worth, you've made the right moral choice.”

“It's the only choice.”

“Thank you,” said Jade, her voice shaking.

“You're welcome,” said the President. “Now, I need you to do something for me.”

“We're waiting!” the voice shouted from outside.

“Just typing in the access codes,” Chuck shouted back. “It'll take a few seconds.”

The President put his hands on Jade's shoulders and
looked into her eyes. “We don't have much time.”

Rich was on his knees. Kent had his machine pistol pressed against his temple, and Marshal Wieng was standing off to the side. For a few moments Rich had really thought he was going to die. It had surprised him how calm he stayed—the inevitability, the fact he could do nothing about it, made the whole situation seem unreal somehow.

Now that the President had said he was giving himself up, Rich was more frightened. What if he changed his mind? What if Kent shot him anyway? What would they do to Jade?

The wooden panelling had been ripped away from the metal door concealed beneath it. The door itself was scratched and scorched, dented by gunshots and blistered by explosions. After what seemed an age, the door clicked open, then swung heavily aside.

Chuck White was standing in the doorway, his hands raised in surrender. In one hand he held his pistol, which Marshal Wieng immediately took from him. Then Wieng grabbed Chuck's arm and heaved him out of the secure room. He reached past Chuck and grabbed the President by his suit lapels, pulling him out too.

The President staggered after Chuck. Kent had moved his gun from Rich's head, and tracked the President and Chuck with it. Wieng was looking round the concealed room. Satisfied, he stepped out into the office.

Rich frowned in confusion. “Where's…?”

Chuck glared at him, giving the tiniest shake of the head.

“What are you going to do with us?” Rich asked quickly, covering his first thought.

“Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something,” Kent rasped.

But Rich barely heard him. He was staring through the open doorway into the small room beyond. Where was Jade?

Then Wieng pushed the door shut again. Kent stepped over to the numeric keypad set into the frame of the door. He slammed the butt of his gun down on it, shearing the pad from the wall in a shower of sparks.

“It's time we had a little talk, Mr President,” said Kent. “Marshal Wieng needs your help. And one way or another, he's going to get it.”

It was difficult to hear what was going on. But as soon as it was quiet, Jade gently pushed up the top cushions of the sofa. Lying inside the cupboard built into the bench seat
was uncomfortable and cramped. There was only just room for her, even with some of the tins and cartons removed and stacked by the desk.

There was no way Chuck could have fitted inside. And the gunmen would expect the President to be with a Secret Service agent rather than a teenager.

The room was empty. The gunmen had gone. She'd heard the name of Marshal Wieng mentioned—was he really involved somehow? Was Colonel Shu here too?

Jade pushed aside the cushioned lid, and heaved herself out. She crept to the door and listened. Silence. With a sudden rush of relief, Jade pressed the button that she knew opened the door. She'd watched Chuck press it, seen the door click open, just as she lowered the top down on the sofa and hid.

Nothing happened. Maybe she hadn't pressed quite hard enough. Jade pressed the button again. Still nothing. She thumped the button, kicked the door, then swore at both.

But the door remained locked shut. It was like the mechanism from the button to the door controls was no longer connected.

She was trapped inside an impregnable room. No one could get in, but she had no way out either…

There was a soldier on guard outside the door into the mobile headquarters. He stepped in front of Ardman and Chance as they approached.

“General Wilson is in conference, gentlemen. If I can ask you to wait.”

“You can ask,” Ardman told him. He walked past the soldier reaching for the door.

The soldier turned, reaching for his handgun. But it was twisted from his grasp before he could level it.

“You've asked,” Chance told him. “Don't push your luck any further than that.” He slapped the gun back into the soldier's surprised hand. “Believe me, whether he wants to or not, General Wilson needs to see us.”

He followed Ardman into the back of the enormous container lorry. At the far end was a small conference area where General Wilson was talking quietly with the Vice President.

Ardman strode past the soldiers manning the equipment. “General Wilson, Mr Vice President,” he announced loudly and coldly. “I know what you're planning, and it stops right now.”

Wilson was on his feet. “You don't know a thing. And I gave orders no one was to enter this headquarters for the time being.”

“You mean until you'd arranged a nuclear strike against an innocent country?” Ardman shouted back down the length of the truck.

There was sudden silence as all activity stopped. The Vice President stood up, looking pale.

“We are discussing a variety of options,” he snapped. “Who is this man?”

“British Intelligence,” Wilson told him. “Yeah, there really is such a thing.”

“Maybe it's time for you to exercise
your
intelligence, Mr Vice President,” Ardman snapped back. “Are you really going to authorise a nuclear attack on the basis of General Wilson's say-so? On hearsay and rumour?”

Wilson was seething. He jabbed his finger at Ardman as they drew closer, facing each other in a stand-off. “Those raiders are working for the Chinese. They imprisoned our airmen without a trial and are now planning to launch our own missiles against us.”

“And you know that how? What could they possibly gain? What evidence do you actually have for any of this? I tell you they are rebels from Wiengwei, not Chinese special forces at all. And for your information, we don't even know if the Chinese authorities really have your air crew—they've denied it vehemently.”

“That's my concern.”

“Pardon me, I think if you're going to start a full-scale nuclear war and claim Pentagon backing that you simply don't have, then it is everyone's concern.”

“Now hold on,” the Vice President said, taking a step backwards. “What's that about the Pentagon? And we've not actually decided…”

But Ardman wasn't going to be interrupted. “In fact, what have you done? Apart from a knee-jerk reaction that got your own men killed or injured.” Ardman's lips curled slightly. “I use the word ‘jerk' deliberately.”

Wilson's face was turning a shade of purple and he looked like he might burst.

“But no,” Ardman went on, “you'd rather persuade a weak-minded, xenophobic Vice President to take matters into his own hands and lead us to the brink of Armageddon than work to make sure these madmen—whoever they are—are stopped before they can launch so much as a firecracker. So much for proportional reasoned response. And you dare to lecture us about intelligence?”

Despite the situation, Chance felt himself start to smile.

Colonel Wilson, however, was not seeing the humour in Ardman's accusation and sarcasm.

“You know nothing about what's really happening here!” he roared.

“So enlighten me. What do you know about what's going on in the White House? Why are you lying about Pentagon intelligence? How are you
really
involved?”

For a moment it looked like the General would reply. But then he blinked and seemed to gather himself. “Get these men out of here,” he ordered. “Out of my sight, and out of the security area. They are no longer welcome. That clear?”

Ardman and Chance were marched from the truck and escorted out of the cordon.

“That went well,” said Chance.

“As well as I expected,” Ardman agreed. “Wilson won't find it so easy to persuade the Vice President to authorise an attack now.”

“And what's Wilson up to? Is he involved?”

“Oh, yes. He can't simply be that monumentally stupid, pig-headed and spoiling for a fight. Have you seen the latest trade figures between the US and China? The US unemployment projections? With that and the missing air crew, I think he believes the two countries are already at war. And he's willing to bend the rules so he can get in the first strike.”

“Kill or be killed. Destroy their economy before they destroy ours.”

“Something like that.”

“And Marshal Wieng and Colonel Shu?”

“They both have their own reasons for wanting to threaten or even attack China. I'll get on to the Pentagon, and play them the recording of Wilson talking to the Vice President. But even with General Wilson muzzled there's a very serious situation developing here to say the least.”

“Don't I know it,” said Chance, looking past the security cordon, the military vehicles and the troops to the White House. “And Rich and Jade are still in there somewhere.”

There wasn't time to hide. The door clicked open, and a figure stepped into the secure room.

Jade leaped up from the sofa, startled but ready to make a run for it.

The woman in the doorway was Kate Hunter. “Hi, Jade. Chuck managed to let me know you were here.”

“What's going on?” Jade demanded. “Who are those guys, and where have they taken Rich and Chuck and the President?” She felt the tears welling up. “They killed Dex! What do they want?”

Kate glanced round nervously. “Hold on, hold on. Halford's OK. Well, a bit groggy—he was hit with a tranquiliser dart.”

Jade gave a gasp of surprise and relief. “Oh, thank God. Are you sure he's OK?”

“The plan was to tranquilise the President, but thankfully things didn't all go to plan. Halford will be fine. Or as fine as any of us in this mess.”

“You mean you are working with them?!” Jade exclaimed. “I saw you with that creepy guy in the orchestra.”

“Jefferson Kent. Creepy is about right. Yes, I was working with them. Undercover, as part of my job. We thought they were planning to kidnap a senator who's sympathetic to free trade with China. Seems they've stepped up a gear or two.”

“But what do they want?”

“They're convinced we need to retrench: buy American goods, protect people's jobs. The President abandoning those captured airmen to the Chinese was the last straw as they see it. Maybe they have a point, but this isn't the way to make it. And now Marshal Wieng and Colonel Shu are here.”

“I heard,” said Jade. “I think Marshal Wieng locked me in.”

“Him or Kent. Not deliberately, they just smashed the entry coder off the wall so the locking mechanism was bust. I had to re-attach the wires to get the door open.

“But what are they
doing
?”

“They want to threaten Beijing. Give Wiengwei independence, or they launch a nuclear attack. Add in the safe return of the air crew, some trade agreements and an undertaking not to undercut American manufacturing and take US imports, and Kent and his cronies are happy too.”

“Everyone's a winner,” said Jade sarcastically.

“Yeah, right. Except Beijing will never agree. And Marshal Wieng is just the sort of megalomaniac who'll launch the nukes anyway. If he can get the codes from the President. He'll probably never even give them a chance to accede to his demands.”

“So what do we do?”

Kate Hunter sighed. “I need to get back. Kent's suspicious of me anyway, which is why I haven't been able to do anything. If they'd give me a gun I could take them all out. But armed with bits of cello and a piece of a saxophone that only fires tranquiliser darts, I've no hope. But there's something
you
can do.”

“Yes?”

Kate leaned close to Jade. “Here's something not many people know—certainly not Kent and Wieng…”

Jade's eyes widened as Kate told her the plan.

The metal briefcase containing the nuclear launch codes was still on the table in the Roosevelt Room where Kent had put it earlier. Standing round it were Kent himself, Marshal Wieng, Colonel Shu, Hank, Chuck White and the President.

Secret Service agent Steve was still sitting in the chair, his wrist still chained to the handle of the case. But now he was conscious, looking round warily for any opportunity to make a move against the gunmen. But there was none.

Kent and Hank had machine pistols aimed at Chuck and the President.

“It's quite simple,” said Marshal Wieng. “I want you to open the case. Then I want you to input your authorisation codes, and target a nuclear missile at coordinates I shall supply. It's an area in eastern China. Not a very populated area, so it will do for a warning shot. Just the one missile, that's all. For now. Then I'll issue my demands.”

The President shook his head. “I won't do it. I'll never
do it. There is nothing you can threaten that will make me do it.”

“Yet you gave yourself up to save a boy's life,” Kent rasped. “You'll do it. Even if we have to kill every one of our hostages. Right here in front of you. One by one.”

There was movement at the side of the room and Kent spun round. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

Kate Hunter shrugged. “Just checking. I couldn't find Tony.”

“Probably taking a leak,” Hank said. “Or stepped out for a cigarette. This place is no smoking, right?” he grinned. No one else laughed.

Kent had turned his gun so it was pointing at Kate. “I don't want you wandering off. I want you right here where I can see you. I'm still not sure about you.”