location. The NRA man was instructed to get a bird over there asap and was in the process of redirecting a new KH-13 satellite to do just that. They would have visuals of the lodge any time soon. Meanwhile, Preston was on the phone to DIA and instructing a drone be put up to offer round the clock eyes on the site as the satellite would only have a specific window due to its orbit. NSA were instructed to tap into every piece of communication that went anywhere near the lodge. With eyes and ears all over the location, Preston began to consider the assault.
Having witnessed Johnson’s previous failures, Preston had no intention of repeating them. Bombing was out. He wanted to know for definite that Senator Baker was out of the game. A straight through the door approach had failed as well in Washington and just succeeded in embroiling the Secretary of Defense into the mess. It was time for the professionals, Amateur Hour was over. Preston picked up the phone and called his contact at the Human Intelligence Directorate of the DIA, similar to the NCS of the CIA in many ways, apart from one. The DIA got the pick of the crop, the CIA had to settle for the best of what was left.
Within the hour, two five-men teams were kitting up and preparing to drive their two Suburbans into the loading area on board a C130 for the trip to Montana.
Preston packed up his things, thanked his assistants and hightailed it to the National Security Council meeting. The President had increased the frequency to every eight hours as the deadline for the nuclear bomb loomed. However, with the Vice Presidency sorted, Preston would turn his attention to finding the bomb and saving the nation. It was difficult being the most intelligent guy in the room, he smiled but somebody had to do it.
Chapter 77
Sam really wished he could just phone his brother and tell him to come to him but he couldn’t. If anything happened to them, he’d never forgive himself. All it took was the tiniest slip-up at a gas station or a restroom and they’d be dead. With no option but to go get him, he had run through the routes with Rebecca. Driving was out, too long. The train, likewise. That only left airplanes which, considering everything he had done, was not going to be the easiest form of transport, nor the safest.
Rebecca made a call. It was going to get her into a lot of trouble but if it paid off, it would be fine. If not, she may be paying the state of Israel back for many years to come. Hiring private jets was not going to please the Accounts Department.
They grabbed their kit. Of course, another reason to justify the additional expense, around $25,000, was the benefit of keeping hold of their $1,200’s worth of weaponry. Forty minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of Manassas Regional Airport and avoiding any type of scanner or camera equipment, they boarded their waiting Learjet 45XR for the four-hour flight to Glacier Park. As the stewardess offered them champagne for the flight, Rebecca checked if it was an additional cost. It was. They drank water. And she added that to her list of justifications.
Just after lunch, they landed, picked up the Camry from the parking lot and drove to the Lodge.
***
The second they turned off the main road and entered the grounds of the lodge, they became targets. At least in the eyes of the Avenger’s operator. The drone was stationed almost 30,000 feet above, maintaining a constant visual on the property below. It had replaced the satellite surveillance just two hours earlier and had been the same unit previously used by Johnson’s team to obliterate an empty cabin. It still had almost eighteen hours left in its tanks but with the assault team due in the next two hours, it was extremely unlikely to need a replacement.
***
Sam was delighted to see his brother and quickly updated him on where they had been and how the Alibi Club may have a glut of new members joining in the near future. Once they had brought them up to speed, Sam pulled out the comic book and explained his theory to the Secretary of Defense. James studied the drawing carefully, he had heard of it but it was well before his time. However, he knew a few people in England who may be able to help. He also considered calling some of his own men but after discussion, they agreed it just wasn’t worth the risk. They really did not know who they could trust, money and power talked and it seemed the President and his cronies had an abundance of both.
With leads that required a few calls to Russia, James cracked on. The comic might be correct after all. So far, things were adding up factually and had Deif searched similarly, he would have made the same links. It was all out there, as James proffered more than once. As darkness fell, James’ progress slowed down. Across the world, it was the middle of the night but he carried on relentless. Numerous angry calls later and they had a breakthrough. The owner of a small shipyard in Russia had sold an item like that a few months earlier.
The owner went to get his records. He had the name of the ship somewhere. And eventually, James Murphy jumped up and down with excitement.
“I’ve got it! I’ve found the ship!”
As the others jumped up to congratulate him, Sam dived and pulled his brother and Rebecca with him to the floor.
The first bullet flew through the window and entered Secretary of Defense James Murphy’s open mouth, a fraction of a second before it took the back of his head with it.
Chapter 78
Ben Meir checked his watch as he paused for breath. He had not stopped talking for almost two hours. Ahmed Hameed sat open-mouthed before him.
“So Ahmed, my friend,” offered Ben. “Do you want to be a hero?!”
As far as Ben could see, that’s what it came down to. Ahmed could be a hero or a villain. The spoils in this case were very much for the hero’s taking. The villain would gain nothing and could lose everything. Of course, one major hurdle had to be overcome for any of this to matter. Ahmed Hameed had to believe Ben Meir. The Palestinian terrorist would have to trust the Israeli strategist. It was a lot to ask.
Ahmed said nothing. He just looked at Ben and tried to gauge him. Ahmed Hameed prided himself on his ability to read people. That was how he had got to where he was.
“I must go now. I suppose tomorrow night, at midnight, I will have your answer,” proposed Ben.
“I repeat what I have said to you many times Ben Meir. I do not have full control, everything is compartmentalized. My answer may not give you everything you want, only partially.”
“Then I have wasted your time with my story. I should have sought another,” offered Ben, knowing it would elicit a reaction.
Ahmed rose to the challenge. “You came to the right man, Ben Meir. You know you did. But even if I did choose to believe you and go with your plan, my network stops at the beach.”
“I know, I know. Whatever happens, it has been a pleasure.” Ben shook Ahmed’s hand and drove back to the border gates, his head held just a little further forward than he would normally have it. But the anticipation was unwarranted. The gates slammed closed behind him.
Like Daniel, he had entered the lion’s den and survived. One den down, one to go.
The short flight to Nevatim air force base took thirty minutes and the striking Rockwelll B1-R Lancer stood ready for take-off. Looking more like an over sized fighter jet than a strategic bomber, it was of a similar size to a Boeing 757 and even older. However the B1-R was almost entirely rebuilt with new engines, avionics and weapon systems. Pretty much everything but the skin was new. It was also taking on a slightly more appropriate role and was looking to become a fighter bomber with the addition of air to air weaponry. Its massive range and ability to cruise like a Concorde was going to make it a very interesting addition to the US’ arsenal. In the meantime it was also going to get Ben and his two bodyguards to America before they even left.
The American Colonel welcomed Ben on board and wasted no time in kicking the engines to life and hurtling them off the runway and into the sky. They were supersonic soon after and with only his thoughts and the sound of four Pratt amp; Whitney P119 engines between him and America, Ben put his head back and fell asleep.
