years. She had flawless skin, wrinkle free and only wore light make-up. Her blond hair was tied tightly back and flowed down her perfectly cut Armani suit which did nothing but emphasize the lithe and firm body underneath.
“Married?” he asked
“Are you flirting with me Senator?” asked Clark as she appraised Baker’s lingering stare.
“Sorry, no not at all,” he blushed. “Admiring, yes, flirting, no. I’m not ashamed to act my age nor behave my age. I’m old enough to be your father, well just,” he added quickly.
“So what about you, Senator, why politics and why President?” asked Clark, changing the subject to avoid any further embarrassment.
Senator Baker paused as he considered the question, a question she had heard him answer numerous times before on countless news interviews.
“Politics because I felt I could make a difference. The Presidency because I have no choice, I have to make a difference,” he answered from the heart.
“I’ve not heard you say it like that before?”
“That’s because you’ve only ever heard me in public before. The Vice President was almost guaranteed the Presidency at the next election and I just can’t allow them to continue with what they’ve been doing to our country for the last eight years. They’re systematically tearing our democracy apart. Another eight years under Russell would effectively kill the United States as a democratic nation.”
“You make him sound like some sort of dictator. I’ve met him once, he was charming.”
“You, my dear, are a very attractive and unthreatening young woman, I am not in the least surprised you found him to be anything but charming. But let me assure you, once the doors are closed and the private Andrew Russell comes out, there’s no colder soul than that ruthless little shit.”
Silence fell between them as they digested the possibility of the ruthless Russell being the man who had targeted Baker and his brother. Surely not, Baker told himself, but the more the thought played on his mind, the more sense it began to make.
“You don’t think?” Agent Clark broke the silence and paused, the thought too horrific to verbalize.
“I’m thinking the same bloody thing,” replied Baker. “Russell!”
Chapter 20
Sam gunned the 425 horses as he exited the ferry and had no intention of letting up until he reached Newark. The car rocketed out of Rockland as Sam considered the route, back roads or main roads. US Route 1 ran through Rockland and would connect him to I95 but that was the most obvious route and would leave Sam seriously exposed for over 50 miles. The back roads, cutting North to pick up the I95 to the North of Rockland, offered a less obvious solution but this meant his journey time would be extended by almost an hour. An hour Sam ventured he didn’t have. So US 1 it was. With no obvious tails being picked up as he sped through Rockland, he felt comfortable that he had at least a couple of hours before he’d have anything to really worry about.
With his route selected, Sam’s mind began to fall back to Goat Island and the family and life that had been wrenched from him. Sam Junior, Goldie and Jane, his wife, slaughtered. Sam knew he should stay focused but the picture of his wife and child torn apart wouldn’t leave him. The adrenalin rush that had helped him overcome the attackers and got him to the mainland was wearing off and the cold light of day was hitting home; he was alone again. During his working life, Sam had remained single. His life had never been one to share. His new life had been though. Sam punched the steering wheel in anger. The resulting horn blast snapped him back. He had to leave Sam Junior, Jane and Goldie behind, not forever, but at least until he had avenged their deaths. He had to remain focused. Every single person who had had a hand in their deaths had to pay and to ensure that, Sam had to keep his mind focused.
First and foremost, Sam had to get to his brother and see just who it was he had pissed off this time. Charles had a habit of taking things too far and neither realizing nor taking account of what or who he was up against. In Montana, it had been an Albanian gang who had been prosperously running a prostitution and drug ring before the Senator had waded in. Little did he know how close he had come to being at the end of a three man hit team, sent by the Albanian ganglord. Sam had taken care of the hit team and the ganglord quietly and in such a fashion that nobody would ever again consider something so stupid, certainly not in Montana. But Montana had been a small stage. Charles was now playing with the big boys and obviously Charles had continued to push people way over the edge.
Sam considered the possibilities. Top of the list would be defense contractors. If Charles had taken issue with one, as Chairman of the Appropriations Committee, the impact could have been massive, involving billions of dollars and hundreds of thousands of jobs. Next were the usual whack jobs, white supremacist groups, Nazis, terrorists etc… but none of them would have known about Sam or his family.
Before he could consider anymore, Sam reached the junction with US Route 1 and the 131, his turning should he wish to use the less obvious circuitous route. He paused at the junction before making a final decision. He floored the accelerator and pushed out of Thomaston and on down the US Route 1. Time was of the essence.
The Avenger looked down on the junction and the clear open countryside ahead. From Rockland to Thomaston, the road had been lined with buildings and homes. After Thomaston, the road cleared and offered little or no cover for Baker, not that he even had hint he needed it. The Avenger was locked on and silently following its target’s every move from over 25,000 feet above him.
“Sir, we’re moving towards open road. The target has remained on US Route 1. Target is locked and weapons are hot.”
Johnson listened as the operator fed him the update. If only Sam had made the turn. It was going to be tricky to time a missile strike and minimize collateral damage. After all, he had promised the Vice President exactly that. However, Sam was a tricky bastard and Johnson knew better than anyone, the first chance they had, may be the only chance. So with little concern for collateral, he barked his orders.
“Fire the first clear shot you get. Just don’t hit a bloody school bus. We clear?”
“Yes Sir,” barked the operator.
The operator looked towards his screen which really wasn’t any different from an arcade game. His target was clearly visible in the middle of the screen and in the top left, he had a range of weapons to select from. However, in this instance, only the AGM114 showed any ammunition. AGM-114 were hellfire missiles, small and extremely accurate laser guide missiles. More than capable of destroying a car and certainly more appropriate than the other far more powerful laser guided bombs compatible with the Avenger. The operator zoomed out and keeping the target dead center, he began to note the area around the target. Release of the weapon to impact would be in the region of 20 seconds. The target’s speed was varying between 50 and 110 mph. Although traffic was light, the variables were mind-blowing. Minimizing collateral was almost impossible, other than if the road were totally clear for a couple of miles around the target which, looking at the flow of traffic, was highly unlikely.
At least the schools were still in he thought, looking at his watch. With a long straight ahead of him and little traffic, the target accelerated again and pushed over 100 mph. Of course, the Avenger had no issue with the target’s speed, nor would the missile which could fly 10 times faster. The issue was that the distance travelled by the target from release to impact doubled. The operator considered his boss’ final words and hit ‘Fire’ — there were no school buses anywhere near!
The missile dropped from its bay and immediately ignited its rocket, dropping and accelerating to its maximum speed of 1.3 Mach, almost 1,000 mph. The laser designator was firmly fixed on the roof of the car. The operator’s view switched from the Avenger to the nose mounted camera on the weapon, a small distance to target tracked down the meters to impact. Switching back to the Avengers view, the operator looked at the road ahead, it was looking good, the only vehicle visible in the distance that was likely to fall within the impact zone was a lone truck. Taking Sam Baker out with just one innocent victim would be a seriously good result.
Sam looked at the long straight ahead and floored the accelerator. The Hemi engine reacted immediately and the car powered to over 100 mph. The early afternoon traffic was light and Sam looked at the clock and wished he
