Everything seemed set for a celebration, whoever would be the victor. The award ceremony was widely televised, and people were actually tuning in this year because the outcome of the contest for Best Picture was a matter of contentious debate. The viewers watched the celebrities strut down the red carpet in their jewels and finery, the ladies’ colorful gowns forming a rich kaleidoscope that contrasted with the more somber styles of the men’s tuxedos.

Stars gathered under the refracted light of the chandelier in the center of the theater. Its multitude of angular crystals made the light dazzle and dance as it rotated, burnishing the curtains that concealed the stage and illuminating the azure and gold scrollwork that ran down the walls.

Jeremy Harkness noted all this on his television handset as he followed the rest of his team backstage. Ignored by everyone else, who thought him just another stagehand, he was conscious of the holstered pistol on his belt, covered by his loose shirt. If everything went to plan, Alpha team would have already secured the television control room. He glanced at Medusa. A middle-aged woman in a dark gray suit, she stood apart, calm and collected as always. Soon enough they would make their move, and his team would be front and center to secure the stage.

Under cover of the strident music, Gamma team pushed aside the risers for the final presentation and maneuvered the forklift into the open space. So far, everything was going by the numbers. Jeremy turned his attention back to the miniature television monitor in his hand. Timing was everything. It was his job to give the signal that would ultimately set the plan in motion.

As the final announcement of the ceremony approached, the shimmering curtains framed a holographic virtual screen that appeared over the stage. A hush fell over the audience. The dramatic music ceased. Glittering celebrities leaned forward in their seats as they watched clips of the nominees projected in midair.

After the final clip, Gavin St. Cloud, one of the hottest actors of his generation and the previous year’s Best Actor, stepped forward to the lectern.

“Are you ready?” he asked with a smile, picking up the white parchment envelope to a smattering of applause. He grinned wider. “I said, are you ready?” The applause came again, louder this time.

Jeremy signaled to the others, who pulled on their masks and drew their weapons as Medusa stepped up to the second curtain and waited.

On his monitor, he watched the actor tear open the sealed envelope and pull a printed white card from within. As St. Cloud faced the cameras and dropped his gaze to read, Jeremy signaled again. Medusa stepped out onto the stage in full view of the cameras, her combat shotgun in hand. Striding up behind the unsuspecting actor, who was milking the announcement for every last drop of suspense, she clubbed him over the head and he dropped, writhing, to the floor. Ignoring the gasps and screams of the audience, Medusa calmly beat him into unconsciousness with the stock of her weapon.

Jeremy snapped his fingers and followed his team onto the stage, his machine gun hanging from its strap. Two of the men from Beta team grabbed the unconscious actor by his limp arms and legs and dragged him off. Noting the appearance of more armed men at the exits, Jeremy and the rest of the team stood guard over their leader as she adjusted the microphone headset she wore over her close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair.

She fired her weapon in the air. “Silence!”

The celebrities paused, rigid with fear.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you may call me Medusa. Currently, my people have weapons trained on all the access points to the building, and this room in particular, as well as the television control room. I am now in complete control of your lives.” She signaled to her team in the control room.

The curtain behind her rose, revealing the forklift at center stage. It carried a white metal cylinder about four feet long and eighteen inches wide.

“The object before you is a nuclear bomb controlled by this remote.” She raised her right forearm, revealing a metal box strapped to her wrist. “I am prepared to detonate this device if my demands are not met. I hereby invite a single representative of the government to enter the building and inspect the bomb, just to demonstrate that I mean business. This invitation is good for one hour. I will issue my demands at that time. You should all get comfortable. None of you are going anywhere for a while.”

Jeremy watched the celebrities wilt in their seats, any thought of resistance cowed by Delta team covering the exits and even more armed men spreading out down the red-carpeted aisles. An actress in a red gown caught his eye; she clung to her husband in fear, real tears washing mascara down her face.
Ironic,
he thought. She had just received an award recognizing her impressive portrayal of a woman renowned for bravery in battle.
I guess you never know what your limits are until you’re tested.
Jeremy held his weapon at the ready, but inwardly he was calm, relaxed even, as he settled in to wait. The dice had been rolled. It was only a matter of time before the gamble paid off.

Thirty minutes later, Medusa still stood silently at the lectern, the shotgun cradled against her right shoulder. Gamma team, reassigned to perimeter duty, stepped onto the stage, leading a tall man in a navy blue suit. Medusa looked him up and down. Then she pulled the microphone free of the lectern and pointed it at the newcomer. “Tell the folks at home who you are.”

“Agent Jeffries of the Los Angeles branch of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I am here to evaluate the nuclear threat.” The agent’s voice was calm and controlled.

Medusa waved at the bomb. “Be my guest, Agent.” Beta team escorted the agent to the white cylinder and pulled back the metal casing so he could view the compact, intricate workings. Taking no chances, Jeremy kept his weapon trained on the agent the entire time the man examined the weapon’s components.

“Do you believe me, Agent Jeffries?” she asked.

“It looks authentic,” he said in a noncommittal tone.

Medusa snorted. “Proof can be easily provided, Agent, but you really wouldn’t like it. Are you prepared to hear my demands?”

“I am.”

She smiled. “It has come to my attention that the United States government has secretly developed a new ground-launched cruise missile system suitable for nuclear deployment, in clear violation of our arms reduction treaties. I demand the United States acknowledge the existence of this illegal weapons program and make ready to turn the prototype delivery vehicle and projectiles over to a more responsible party for safekeeping.”

The agent stared owlishly at her as she turned the microphone on him. Finally, he blinked away his surprise and answered, “I have no knowledge of the weapon you describe. Even if it were real, I find it hard to believe that it would have come to
anyone’s
attention.”

Medusa gave a bark of laughter. “Oh, I assure you I am quite capable, Agent. I am also an honorable patriot. Therefore, I have decided to give the Daniels Administration the chance to come clean of its own accord.” She pointed her shotgun at the bomb. “Naturally, I needed to offer some incentive. It wasn’t that hard to put the right people in place to acquire the warhead from our outdated stockpiles. Now, I assure you that the weapons program exists. What are you going to do about it?”

Agent Jeffries watched her through narrowed eyes. “Suppose it does exist, and the government confirms it. What will you do?”

Medusa shrugged. “Once the weapon platform is safely in my hands, I will simply leave and take the bomb with me. Relatively simple, really.”

“Safely in
your
hands?” Agent Jeffries straightened up and his voice was cold.

“I will take possession of the missile launcher, Agent. You will bring it to me here, and my men and I will dispose of it to my satisfaction.” The terrorist’s smile grew wider. “Until then, consider the bomb my insurance policy against your inevitable attempt at betrayal.”

Agent Jeffries stared at her, stunned by her brazen request. “You want us to give you a missile launcher? I’m afraid that is quite unlikely.”

Medusa casually let the barrel of her shotgun drop to point at the agent as she checked her watch. “Then the city is going to die. That missile platform will be destroyed one way or another, Agent. You have twenty-two minutes left before my original deadline. If I do not receive confirmation of the disclosure within that time, I will detonate the bomb. I will graciously allow you another two hours after the deadline for actual delivery of the launch vehicle from its current location at the Los Angeles Air Force Base.” She waved her people forward. “My men will see you out, so you can communicate with your superiors.”

Gamma team escorted Agent Jeffries from the stage.

A high-pitched chime sounded throughout the hall and Medusa hesitated, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Behind his gauze mask, Jeremy frowned. Something was not going according to plan. A bright light flashed to his left and coalesced into the shape of a fair-skinned blond man about thirty years old who stood on the stage a few yards away from Medusa. He was dressed casually in a short-sleeved white linen shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. Jeremy lowered his weapon into position to cover the intruder while the rest of Beta team surrounded him.

Other books

Forever After (a dark and funny fantasy novel) by Jester, David

Seaside Hearts (Love in Bloom: Seaside Summers, Book 2) Contemporary Romance by Melissa Foster

The Stars of San Cecilio by Susan Barrie

Angel and the Assassin by Alexander, Fyn

Shakespeare: A Life by Park Honan

My Two Worlds by Sergio Chejfec

Junie B. Jones Loves Handsome Warren by Barbara Park

Strike Force Alpha by Mack Maloney

Split Second by David Baldacci

The Crimson Brand by Brian Knight