The pilot could see the cityscape ahead of him, exactly as he had practiced on the flight simulator. He checked his fuel. The needle hovered just above zero. Not really an issue, he just needed enough for the next minute or so. He powered the throttle forward and began his ascent. His target was 2,000 feet and then he’d press the button to detonate the weapon. The run had been timed to perfection. Give or take a few seconds, he had arrived bang on schedule.
His finger hovered over the firing button. “Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.”
As the clock ticked down to 17.59.50 EST, 23.59.50 in Israel, all just stared at the clock, their breaths held. Ten seconds to detonation if what they had been told was true. The President was almost climbing the wall. The tension in the Situation Room was unbearable.
Captain Fuentes was caught by surprise as the bogey seemingly reacted to his presence. It accelerated and began to pull up. Fuentes followed and selected his AIM-9 Sidewinders and fired.
The pilot watched as his level indicator read 1,900 feet. He caught a flash in the rear mirror that the Hurricane would use to spot enemies from the rear and saw the sidewinder as it sped towards him. He smiled. “Allahu Akbar!” as he reached for the trigger.
As the clock struck 17.19.58, a scream came though the intercom system. The room jumped and the President sank to the floor.
“WOOHOO, one mother fucking bogie is down and out!” screamed Captain Fuentes into the intercom which the E-3 Sentry had fed through to the Situation Room.
Fuentes, for good measure, had fired all 480 of his 20mm cannon rounds from the sidewinders. He would never know that if he hadn’t, the pilot would have destroyed a city and killed almost a million people.
As the President held his head in relief, they waited for news on Israel. The clock, showing the time in Israel, struck midnight.
Chapter 92
And his new life started, the gates swung freely. The post was deserted just as Ben said it would be. Ahmed turned to his compatriots who stared at him in disbelief. Surely not, the Jew had not been lying. Ahmed ventured further. There was nothing there. The army base that had kept them prisoners was deserted. Everything was gone. Nothing remained. This was not temporary.
Ahmed returned to the other three controllers and they debated for some time what should be done. Time dragged on. 12.05, 12.15, 12.30. The time kept ticking by as they decided what to do.
A call was made to Lebanon and the West Bank. One border-crossing was no sign of any real change. The Palestinian fighters on the Lebanese — Israeli border were reluctant to move forward. The dead-man alley was exactly that. Anyone who stepped into it died immediately. The Israeli snipers did not shoot warning shots. After some discussion, a young fighter said he would go. He, like Ahmed in the South, walked carefully and cautiously forward, fearful of the bullet that would end his life. It never came. He reached the gates that blocked the road and like Ahmed, he pushed them only to find they fell open. The crossing was deserted. Everything was gone.
The debate still raged. It could all be a trick. The call to the West Bank proved less fruitful. Jerusalem was a hive of activity, nothing appeared to have changed. The reluctant Palestinian who ventured towards the border crossing returned quickly. The border was guarded, he could see men moving around. Ahmed pushed for the man to go further.
As the man ventured further, the three controllers had reached a decision. The Israelis had tried to trick them for the last time. As they were preparing to fire, the phone rang. It was the West Bank Palestinians. Their man had ventured closer. It was not Israelis that were guarding the crossing.
Chapter 93
The Sheikh had altered Zak’s ID to show his photo and easily passed through the security perimeter. The President was due within the next hour. News had filtered out during the morning that it was likely that the President would also announce his new Vice President and if the rumor were true, it was going to be Henry Preston. The Sheikh had arranged everything he needed and was now just awaiting the arrival of his targets.
The stage was arranged across the road directly in front of the massive gates that were covered either side by huge sheets. These were the covers that would unveil the memorials. Almost two hundred seats were laid in front of a stage which itself held almost fifty seats. The audience, however, was expected to be closer to a million times that number as the world’s press awaited the announcement of the new VP and an explanation as to the goings on the previous evening.
The Sheikh smiled as the first attendees began to arrive. He made his way towards the young lady that was co-ordinating the event and while talking to her, he managed to check the sheet. Nothing had changed.
Rebecca woke Sam up. She had just had a call from Ben and they were to meet him in Driscoll, a small town near to where the ceremony was due to take place. He didn’t like it and wanted some assurances. Unfortunately, she did not have any to give.
Sam spoke at length to his brother and agreed that Clark would remain with his wife while the rest would travel to Driscoll.
Although they had flown down with the President on Air Force One, Preston, Johnson and Gates were part of the advance party, along with members of the Cabinet. The President liked his grand entrances and everyone would be seated and in place before he arrived.
Preston had shared a car with the others and the smile on his face suggested he would not be sharing one back. It seemed to Johnson and Gates that the rumors must have been true. However, Johnson was going to wipe the smile off Preston’s face soon enough. There was only going to be one Vice President announced that day and it was going to be Allan Johnson and he had the goods to make sure it happened.
As the car pulled up to the stage, Johnson broke off from the group and made his call.
“Mr President?”
“Yes, Allan?”
“I’m hearing some very disturbing rumors.”
The President knew exactly what the rumors were. “Yes, Allan and I’m afraid they’re true. You’ve got to appreciate that it was Henry who…”
Allan’s tone changed. “Killed the President for you?!”
“Allan,” protested the President angrily.
“No Andrew, I have the evidence that will put us both in the frame. I suggest you change your speech and quickly.” Johnson killed the call and headed back to the others with a spring in his step.
He joined them as the co-ordinator had singled the three of them out and asked them to head over to a waiting minivan. It appeared that the President wanted to arrive with them at his side. They jumped into the van and were greeted by the Secretary of Defense.
The President’s motorcade pulled out of Corpus Christi and made its way towards Bishop. It swept along at sixty miles an hour and the President took the twenty minutes to put the final touches to his speech.
He had just had the call from Johnson when his phone rang again. He instantly answered expecting it to be Johnson again.
