Presidential Shift (12 page)

Fairfax, VA

2:20am

Breathing heavily, Maynor struggled to focus on his adversary. After delivering a single blow, the seemingly immovable giant had proceeded to methodically pound the old Marine.

“Had enough yet, old man?” said Gary, who was barely winded.

Maynor spat a gob of blood at the man’s face. “Fuck you.”

Another hammer strike crushed against the side of Maynor’s head, and spun him to the ground. His world grayed as he barely remained conscious.

“What the fuck happened here?” came a shout from the door, followed by a blast of cold air.

“No problem, Doc. Just had to teach one of your patients a lesson.”

Maynor tried to see who was talking, but couldn’t through the blur.

“I told you they weren’t to be harmed, and what happened to these two?”

“He’s tougher than I thought. Sorry.” The big man sounded contrite in the face of the newcomer’s questioning.

“Strap him onto the gurney. They’re bringing the other two in now.”

Maynor felt himself being hefted into the air and then laid on something soft. His clothes were ripped off as he passed out.

+++

“Five minutes out,” announced Gaucho, both to his team and to the staff listening in from SSI. “Any intel on the target, Neil?”

“I’m trying to patch into any overhead satellites, but none are available. I’ll keep working on it.”

Gaucho gritted his teeth, kicking himself for letting his friends be taken.

+++

“Make sure they’re strapped down correctly. We don’t want another incident like we had in Detroit.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Have the devices arrived?”

“I have them right here.”

“Good. Get them prepped. I’ll make the incisions once we’ve matched the codes.”

“Yes, sir.”

+++

Gaucho checked his weapon. He hated using suppressors. They always messed with the balance, and therefore proper aim, of a weapon. Regardless, the less attention they could attract the better.

“Two minutes,” he announced, more for the benefit of those watching from headquarters.

+++

Cal’s head swirled in the darkness. A smell assaulted his senses.
Am I in a hospital
? he thought groggily. He’d spent his fair share of time in hospitals over the years. The source of the smell came to him suddenly.
Betadine
.

Sounds came next. The clanking of metal and the murmur of voices. Cal tried to shake his head, but it hurt. He focused on the noise, pinpointing that it was coming from his left. He turned his head that way, slowly. Gradually, he opened his eyes the slightest bit, doing his best to see through the shimmery haze. As his vision adjusted, he observed a man in surgical scrubs, mask and blood-covered gloves bending over a prostrate form. From where he lay, Cal couldn’t see above the patient’s torso, but something felt familiar about the…

“Looks like one of our guests is awake,” came the voice of the man who was now cutting into the person under the spotlight. “Please make sure he’s properly restrained. Without anesthesia, I don’t want him squirming when I make the incision.”

+++

The SSI team parked blocks away from the trailer park, moving the rest of the way on foot. Fanning out with practiced precision, no one said a word as they followed Neil’s guidance through their earpieces.

+++

“This one’s done. Why don’t you check the connection. I can sew him up after I finish that one,” said the surgeon, pointing at Cal.

“Sure thing, doc.”

Cal struggled against his restraints to no avail. He was still groggy from whatever sedative they’d given him.

“What are you doing?” Cal dared to ask.

The doctor turned his head to regard his next patient. “Just a little procedure. You look fit. You should come out of it even better than this one.” He patted the thigh of his last victim and wheeled his chair over to Cal. “Now, this might be a little cold,” the man said as he opened the prep kit and spread betadine on Cal’s stomach.

“Get your fucking hands off of me.”

“Or what?” The grizzly caricature looming over him chuckled, still wearing his gory gloves. He snagged a scalpel from the mayo stand and admired it in the overhead light. “This really is my favorite part. Now, if you’ll be so kind as to—.”

The trailer went pitch black, and then the shooting started.

+++

Gaucho and his boys had taken out three guards who’d been patrolling the exterior. Without a shred of discipline, or maybe it was a false sense of security, the men stood around a small fire, warming themselves when the death blows fell.

The twelve man team converged on the trailer registering Cal and Daniel’s beacons. Seconds later, one man cut the power and the rest streamed in.

+++

Cal strained and pulled hard to the right, away from the entrance, finally toppling his gurney to the ground. He didn’t have a clue who the gunfire was coming from, but the last thing he wanted was to get caught in the crossfire.

Screams and more gunfire. He heard moaning.

Finally the firing stopped. “Boss, you in here?” came a familiar voice.

“Over here,” beckoned Cal.

Moments later, the lights came back on and Gaucho approached, weapon still at the ready. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just get me off of this thing.”

Fairfax, VA

2:46am, December 20
^th

The SSI warriors had done their job, killing everyone, including Gary the giant and the surgeon. They found Daniel and Maynor strapped to tables at the opposite end of the trailer. Both men stretched their sore extremities, Maynor accepting a ice pack from one of Gaucho’s men.

“You waited long enough,” observed Cal. “What happened?”

Gaucho told him the story of the chase and Neil’s use of the implanted transponders. “I’m glad they put those things in you guys. Made me a believer, boss.”

Cal nodded, taking in the room. Now that he could see, he processed the scene. The person being operated on next to him was the nearly decapitated and wholly unrecognizable body of Congressman Quailen. What had seemed so familiar was the scarf still draped around the cadaver’s neck like a gruesome doll.

“Let’s get these bodies out of here. Keep the congressman separate for now.”

“Hey, Cal, I think you better come see this,” said Daniel.

Cal walked over with Gaucho, Maynor already standing next to Daniel.

“What is it?”

Daniel pointed down at the blood-spattered table. “I think that’s what they were going to put inside us.”

Cal picked one of the black devices up. It was flat on one side, bulbous on the other with a thick stump the size of a man’s pinky sticking out one end. The entire apparatus looked to be no more than five inches long and maybe three inches wide.

“Is this what I think it is?” asked Cal, shivering at the thought of having the instrument implanted in his body.

“That’s an IED,” said Daniel.

+++

“Zimmer.”

“Brandon, it’s Cal.”

“Thank God. Are you okay?”

“A little shaken, but I’ll be fine. Are you with the president?”

“He’s in the other room. You want me to get him?”

“No. I think it’s better if we come to you. We’ve got a stop to make, and we’ll come by after that.”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

+++

“Has the doctor called?”

“Not yet. Want me to try him again?”

“Yes. We’re about to miss our timeline.”

+++

Three of Cal’s team members had stayed behind to dispose of the bodies at the trailer park. Cal instructed the rest of them to take positions around the compound.

“On my mark. Three, two, one, go, go, go.”

Daniel was the first over the fence, followed by the rest of the troops. The raid took less than five minutes, with none wounded on the SSI side. Ten minutes after arriving, the SSI squad departed.

+++

“What do you mean he’s not answering?”

“He’s not picking up. I called Gary too. Nothing.”

“Get some men over there and figure out what the hell is going on!”

+++

The White House guards peered into the back of Cal’s vehicle and took a step back. “The president’s expecting us,” said Cal.

The senior guard hesitated. “Sir, I…”

“Trust me.” Cal winked. “Best if you forgot what you just saw.”

The vice president had called earlier to tell them about the impending arrival of a Calvin Stokes. He hadn’t said anything about the extra vehicles or the cargo.

The guard looked at Cal’s identification card one last time, handed it back through the window, and waved the vehicles on.

+++

The president and the vice president looked up when the door to the situation room swung open and a person staggered in, slammed against the table, mouth covered with duct tape.

“Sorry to barge in like this, Mr. President,” said Cal, followed closely by Daniel, Maynor and Gaucho.

“Who is…Congressman Quailen?” stuttered the president, rising to his feet.

“Yes, sir,” Cal affirmed.

“But I thought you said he was killed,” said an equally shocked Zimmer.

Cal pushed the bloody captive into one of the pristine leather conference chairs. “That’s what we thought. Good ‘ol Pete put on quite a show.” Cal reached down and ripped the duct tape off the congressman’s mouth. “Why don’t you tell the president who
really
got shot.”

Quailen stared at Cal, hatred burning. “I want my attorney.”

“Wrong answer,” said Cal, delivering a chop to the man’s nose, instantly crushing the bridge, sending Quailen reeling, yelling curses.

“Is that really…”

“We’re out of time, Mr. President. Either we get the information we need, or we let a bunch of crazy skinheads kill more Americans.”

The president looked to Zimmer.

“Let’s try this again. Who did you dupe into dressing up as you, only to be killed in your front yard?” asked Cal, hand poised to punish another retort.

Quailen wiped his broken nose gingerly with the back of his sleeve. “You people don’t know a fucking thing. You think we live in a black and white world. Well, let me tell you something. We live in a world of gray. It’s my world, not yours.”

“Why don’t you cut the crap and tell us who you had murdered,” commanded the president, tired of Quailen’s bullshit.

Congressman Peter Quailen looked up through bloodshot eyes and smiled. “Joel Erling.”

+++

“Sir, I just got off the phone with our guys. They went by the trailer park and everything’s on fire. The fire department arrived as they drove by.”

“What?! What about the doctor?”

“I still haven’t gotten him on the phone. I think we need to assume the worst.”

“Push up our timeline. Our contact just phoned and said they’ve got Quailen.”

“But, we only have two…”

“Just do it. If we can’t get it done now, there may never be another chance.”

The White House

4:55am, December 20
^th

Quailen hadn’t said another word after telling the president about the death of the former Republican congressman from Colorado. In fact, instead of talking, Quailen started laughing like a madman, marveling at how easy it had been to dupe his weak-willed colleague.

Now secured by the Secret Service detail in a detention cell, the SSI contingent, along with the president and vice president, considered their options.

“This still doesn’t explain his connection with the terrorists. Is it coincidence that Quailen and Erling, whom you recently outed, just happened to be part of the coordinated attacks against my wife? I find that very hard to believe.” The president hadn’t stopped pacing, even bumming a cigarette from the slightly awestruck Don Maynor.

“I don’t know,” replied Cal. “It’s possible, but not likely. I’m more inclined to think that whoever was behind the attacks contacted Quailen, knowing he’d have nowhere else to turn. Dr. Higgins, our in-house interrogator, is on his way here. If anyone can get it out of Quailen, it’s him.”

“Cal, what about the phone call Quailen said he got from the president? Do you think he was bluffing?” asked Zimmer.

“Unless the president isn’t telling us something, I do think Quailen’s full of it. He seemed pretty sure of himself when we were at his place. Cocky son-of-a-bitch.”

“He’s been that way since I’ve known him,” said the president, exhaling a plume of blue gray smoke. “Do you think my wife is really the target? Could it all be a ploy, when they’re really after me?”

Cal shrugged. “Anything’s possible, but those videos from Detroit seemed pretty convincing. She must’ve pissed off someone pretty bad. Is the first lady here?”

The president nodded. “She’s in the residence. Had a helluva rough week. Even asked our physician for some pills to help her sleep. Last time I went up to check on her, she was fast asleep.”

“What about protection? She’s not planning any more events, is she?”

The president stopped pacing. “She has a brunch in a couple hours, but it’s here. On top of that, they’ve doubled her protective detail.”

Something still nagged at Cal, a detail they were missing. “Sir, are we any closer to finding out whether you have a leak in your administration, and if so, who that might be?”

“We’re not. I’ve had the Secret Service re-check everyone that has daily access to me and my family. Nothing. Not even a whiff.”

Cal didn’t like it. He still felt like they were two steps behind while whoever was behind the attacks had free reign in their movements. “I suggest they try again. From what we gathered at the trailer park, my gut’s telling me they’re about to hit again.”

+++

“You’re sure everything’s in place?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Tell him to proceed.”

+++

Neil could feel himself getting close to the source. He’d built half a castle of energy drink cans just to stay awake. The rest of his team cycled in shifts, ensuring a steady churn of data. The computer genius was the only one who hadn’t left the workspace. He’d monitored and guided the operators on the ground who’d conducted the rescue. Neil was the hub.

“Neil, I just got access to the phone records,” came the voice from across the room. Neil looked up through his glasses.

“Which ones?” Neil felt like they were monitoring half of Washington, D.C.

“Congressman Quailen’s.”

“And?”

“He did receive a phone call from the White House last night.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. The call was made at 11:47. Want me to send you the link?”

“Already got it.” Neil analyzed the record, but it didn’t have the phone number of the caller, just the location. It would take more digging to find out the identity of the phone used to call Quailen’s residence.
I better give Cal a heads-up
.

+++

“Thanks. Tell me when you find out.” Cal stared at his phone, worried by Neil’s revelation. He wasn’t sure if he should even tell the president.

“Any news?” asked the president.

Cal hesitated. “It looks like there was a phone call made to Quailen’s house, and it was from the White House.”

“What? How is that possible?”

Cal didn’t want to point any more fingers until he was sure. “Let me have another word with Quailen. Maybe he’s had time to rethink his position.”

+++

Cal and Daniel left the Situation Room, nodding to the agents standing silently outside the door. “Can you tell us how to get to where they’re holding Quailen?”

The shorter Secret Service agent gave a quick rundown. “You want me to have someone take you?”

“I think I’ve got it. Thanks.”

The Marines walked without talking, each lost in their thoughts. “I think this is it,” Cal announced, pointing to a small door up ahead.

Daniel took the lead, knocking, then entering when no reply came from inside. The sniper stepped inside, Cal right behind, each scanning the observation area. No one was there. Both men unholstered their pistols and crouched low. Cal pointed to the interrogation room, which was shrouded in darkness with the lights off. Daniel nodded, moving forward.

A light switch perched next to the door leading into the detention area. Daniel flipped it. Cal peered into the brightly illuminated room. “Fuck.”