“Hear me out, sir. We have the firepower to get you out of here, and we’ll have the element of surprise on our side.”
Hayes folded his arms across his chest and thought about it for a moment. Looking at Warch, he said, “Tell me more. If we’re going to do this, we need a game plan.”
WHEN THEY PULLED her out of the vent, her black sweat suit was covered in dust, as was a healthy portion other ponytail. Rielly flipped over onto her back and sat up. Rapp and Adams were poised just above her, eagerly awaiting the report.
Remembering to keep her voice at a whisper, Rielly nodded her head vigorously.
“They’re doing it. They made it through that outer door you told me about, and they’re working on the big shiny door that leads to the bunker.”
“With what?” asked Adams.
“I’m not sure.” Rielly gestured with her hands.
“I think they’re drills. At least that’s what they sounded like. The guy who’s down the’re pulled out a tape measure and held it up to the door.”
Adams tried to ask another question, but Rapp stuck his hand out and stopped him.
“From the top,” he said to Rielly.
“What did you see?”
Rielly took a deep breath and let her hands fall to her lap.
“I saw three objects attached to the door. Like I said, I think they were drills. On the floor there were two boxes… like toolboxes. One was red and the other one was gray.” Rielly stopped and tried to remember every detail.
“There was one man. He walked from the left side of the room, where I couldn’t see him because that first door isn’t swung all the way open.”
Rielly’s eyes danced over her story as she pictured it.
“The man had a cup in his hand-it was probably coffee-and he walked over to the drills.” Rielly’s left hand was cupped as if she were carrying a mug and the right was held flat.
“He placed his hand on the drills… I think he was checking to see how warm they were.”
Adams nodded knowingly.
“He’s afraid they’re gonna burn out on him.”
Rielly shrugged.
“Well, after he was done doing that, he pulled out a tape measure and held it alongside each drill.”
“What did he look like?” asked Rapp.
“Not like the others.”
“You didn’t see him when you were being held in the mess?”
“No.”
“How did he look different?”
“He was”-Rielly searched for the right adjective-“pudgy and I guess a little older.”
“How old?”
“I’d guess late forties to fifty.”
“Was he armed?”
This one stumped Rielly. Her eyes looked to the ceiling while she tried to remember. After a moment she shook her head and said, “I’m not sure.”
Rapp accepted the answer and tried to think if he was missing anything.
“Did you see anyone else? Hear anything else? Anything you can think of?”
Rielly shook her head.
“Nope. I wasn’t down there very long.”
Rapp reached down and started untying the rope.
“Nice work, Anna. Now I want you to wait here while I go back upstairs and report in. I think we’re gonna have some more work to do, but I have to let them know that their hunch was right.”
Rapp finished untying the rope and stood. Reaching for his gun, he said, “Milt, let’s go.”
Adams struggled up from one knee and pointed at his feet.
“What do I do about shoelaces?”
After looking at Rielly’s white stockinged feet, Rapp said, “Take the boots off and go in your socks. We’re just going up and right back down.”
Adams took the boots off, and then moving toward the door with Rapp, he said sheepishly, “Mitch, I have to go pee again.”
Rapp looked at him sideways. Something clicked in his head, and he stopped. Turning back to Rielly, he asked, “Anna, did you say the guy was drinking coffee?”
Rielly nodded.
“I think so.”
Rapp smiled and glanced at Adams. “Milt, you’re a genius.”
HARRIS AND RE AVERS pulled up to the main gate at Andrews Air Force Base and presented their credentials. They were saluted and waved through quickly. Harris was on a mission to find General Campbell, and the fact that General Flood was reportedly with him was all the better. Might as well hit them both up at the same time. Flood, after all, would have to give his stamp of approval to anything they would want to execute.
Reavers maneuvered the heavy Suburban around several turns and gunned the gas-guzzling V-8 engine. Harris had told him to step on it. Right now Delta was getting face time with the generals, and every second counted. SEAL blood had been spilled, and Harris was going to do everything possible to make sure they had a piece of the action.
Less than a minute later. Reavers came to an abrupt stop near General Flood’s limousine and its two security sedans.
Several Pentagon pukes were standing around in their cleanly pressed green uniforms, keeping an eye on the cars. Inside, no doubt, were more of them waiting to wipe General Flood’s nose in case he got a sniffle.
Harris and Reavers jumped out of the Suburban, Harris with a file folder. Reavers with a submachine gun. The file folder Harris carried contained a brief back The brief back was a Special Forces document that outlined a specific mission that was being proposed down to the last detail. Harris and Reavers moved toward the rear of the hangar, where Harris spotted two of General Flood’s staff pukes milling about.
Approaching the door, one of the general’s aides, a major, put up a hand and attempted to ask Harris his business.
Harris, not wearing any rank or insignia, continued right past the officer and opened the door. Reavers followed his boss and closed the door behind him.
Inside, standing in front of a chalkboard, were Generals Flood and Campbell. They were both listening to Colonel Gray, Delta Force’s commander. Several other Pentagon JSOC, and Delta intelligence and administrative types were seated at a long table working among themselves. Harris and Reavers approached the front of the room and snapped off salutes to General Flood. After Flood returned the salute, Harris apologized for the interruption.
“That’s all right. We wanted to talk to you anyway. “Then, gesturing to the blackboard. Flood said, “We were just going over several takedown scenarios. I’d like to hear what you think.” Harris eyed the old blackboard for a second and said, “Billy and his people know their stuff. They don’t need me looking over their shoulder.” Harris looked to Colonel Gray and winked. Gray gave his counterpart at SEAL Team Six an approving nod.
“I do have an idea about something else, however.
An obstacle that we need to overcome before we even consider launching something like this.” Harris gestured to a large diagram of the White House compound taped to the right side of the long blackboard.
“We know from Iron Man’s recon of the mansion that there are explosive devices to be dealt with. He found a bomb in the president’s bedroom.
