Ameristocracy (9 page)

The Lincoln bust falls closed just seconds before a dog walker, with a bevy of barking pooches, comes padding past. The dogs smell something cooking, and the walker snoops around with curiosity.

Inside the tunnel, the team moves quickly as they follow Jack’s lead.

Jack comes to the first room and shoots the lock open with his pistol. He peers in. Empty. He turns back to the team. “Check every door in the complex. Whatever they’ve got planned, the answers are somewhere in these rooms.”

He motions for the other men to break into the next room. He watches as Luke enters and returns a moment later.

Luke shakes his head.
“Nothing.
Maybe they haven’t…”

“Don’t underestimate the threat we’re dealing with,” speaks Jack.
“Every room.”

The men go to work, searching one room at a time as Jack and Charles stand guard in the hallway.

Charles watches them as they step in and out of room after room, shaking their heads each time they return to the tunnel.

“Something’s wrong,” comments Charles.

“Just now figuring that out?” says Jack.

“No.
Something more than that.
Something wrong about...”

“About what?”

“This moment,” replies Charles.
“Feels too safe.
Here and now.”

“If it feels safe…” breaks in Jack.

“It isn’t.”

Together, they make their way past the rooms as they
are opened
. Jack pauses in front of the last room as Luke and Keith try to break the door open, but they
can’t
.

“We need some heavy firepower over here,” says Jack.

Angel hurries over, un-slings her sub
machine gun
and opens fire. Bullets tear across the door making numerous holes. Jack steps forward and kicks the door open.

A second later,
the entire complex is rocked by a massive explosion
!

Jack is the first to recover from the blast. He clears his head, stumbles towards where the door used to be, and sees Charles on the floor.

Jack shakes him.
Nothing.
Finally, he smacks him across the cheek.
Hard.

Charles’s eyes flutter open.
He’s
groggy. “My fault...”

“What?” asks
Jack.

“There’s nothing in these rooms.”

“We’re back to that?”

“No. See what
I’m
saying?
There’s
nothing in these rooms, nothing in this tunnel except for us.
Get it?
It’s
a trap. They knew you would think it was going to happen here and they knew I would bring you back here.”

“Did you…”

“No, I didn’t know! I just realized it right now.”

Jack suddenly realized something. “Bastard...”

Charles looks at him.
“Who?”

“They knew we’d come here.”

“Meanwhile, the real attack is somewhere else...” Charles’s voice trails off and Jack follows his gaze, seeing Thomas’s body on the ground nearby.
Dead.

“Thomas...” mutters Jack.

Blam
!
Blam
!
Blam
!
Bullets ping off the walls above Jack and Charles as someone opens fire from the entrance to the complex.

“Down!” yells Charles.

Jack draws his pistol and turns to the mercenaries, shuffling into position behind him. “Open fire!”

The mercenaries open fire and soon
it’s
every man for himself. Jack crouches in a doorway.

Charles kneels in the doorway across from him. “We can’t stay here forever.”

Jack loads his pistol, and then motions to Charles. “Give me your piece.”

“What for?”

“Want me to lay it all out or just do it? Throw me your weapon!”

Charles tosses the gun across the hall. Jack catches it easily. “Be careful.”

“Yeah, right...” Jack motions for the mercenaries to hold their fire as he makes his way up the tunnel.

Bullets ricochet off the walls and Jack drops to the floor, crawling up the hallway and rolling to dodge gunfire. He shuffles forward and opens fire with both weapons at once.

Blam
!
Blam
!
Blam
!
Blam
!
With every shot fired, Jack thrusts forward with more and more energy until the return fire stops.
But
...
Blam
!
Blam
!
Blam
!
Jack keeps firing.

“Enough!” yells out Charles.

Jack finally releases the trigger and, when the smoke settles, he’s staring down at a dead man, lying there with his machine gun by his side.

This is no Secret Service agent, no soldier. This is a paramilitary gunman, clearly a part of the conspiracy.

Jack stares at the dead body for a long moment,
then
turns back to his men behind him. They slowly make their way out of the crooks and shadows and move toward him.

When they get to him, they follow his gaze, looking past the dead body toward a trail of blood leading away from the tunnel.
Another gunman.

They hurry down the tunnel. Soon, Jack, Charles, and Luke climb through the fireplace in the bedroom and instantly spot a trail of blood leading towards the door.

“That's our man,” says Jack.

Charles nods.
“Dangerous territory coming up.
Not just our enemy but…”

“Secret Service,” speaks up Luke.

“Right,” says Jack.

“Use the
tranq
guns,” comments Charles.

“Lock and load,” says Jake.

Luke shakes his head and stares in disapproval at the tranquilizer gun. “
That phrase just don’t
sound right when we’re shooting darts.”

They make their way out of the bedroom and head down the hallway. They follow the blood
trail
as it gets thinner and thinner. Eventually it just ends.
Right before a fork in the hallway.

“Okay, which way?” asks Luke.

Jack looks to Charles. Charles shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Suddenly, a voice yells out.
“Freeze!”

They turn to see Mendez coming toward them, gun drawn, another agent at his side.

Charles squeezes off two shots with the tranquilizer gun, missing Mendez but hitting the other agent, who crumbles to the floor below. Seeing his ally go down, Mendez charges the group, opening fire.
Blam
!
Blam
!
“Hands up!
Now!”

Jack dives around a corner as shots splinter the wall around him. Charles
doesn’t
move.
He’s
frozen as he stares at the fallen agent. “He’s
gonna
be fine, Charles! Get down!”

Charles drifts to Jack’s corner, still in a daze. Jack’s about to say something, when
he’s shocked by another sight
...
It’s
Luke, drawing his gun.
Not his tranquilizer gun, but his real weapon.
“No! Use the
tranq
!”

Gunshots ring out as Luke and Mendez engage in a firefight. Behind Jack and Charles, the other mercenaries fire at more agents.

“No!” Jack rushes back into the middle of the firefight between Luke and Mendez, braving bullets from both directions, as he fires off a tranquilizer. It grazes Mendez’s arm, and he drops to the ground clutching a gash over his elbow.
It’s
not instantaneous, but Mendez goes woozy and blacks out.

Jack grabs Luke and pulls him around the corner. Charles and the other mercenaries follow behind. They almost stumble over two bodies on the floor.
Two Secret Service agents...
Dead.

Charles is dazed by the sight of the corpses
in his familiar black suit. “Oh my…”

“Charles!” speaks up Jack. “We didn’t do that. It’s not us.”

Charles looks over at Luke and the loaded gun in his hand. “What happened to non-lethal? Where’s your discipline now!”

“If they’re using these peashooters, fine,” replies Luke. “Otherwise, I’m keeping the playing field level.”

Charles suddenly lunges at Luke, and they struggle. The other mercenaries try to break them up.

“Hey! Enough!” yells Jack. He squats next to one of the bodies, searching through the pockets. He finds a folded wad of paper and opens it up. It shows an aerial view of a landscape complete with position markings, formation lines, and target Xs. “Found something.” Charles and Luke release each other and Jack holds the paper for Charles to see. “
This mean
anything to you?”

Charles studies the image long and hard. “This looks like the layout of Camp David.”

“Then we’ve
gotta
keep the president from going there,” replies Jack.

Suddenly, footsteps from the tunnel
can be heard
behind them. They look up to see Wilcox
tip-toe
around the corner, gun drawn.

Wilcox and the mercenaries level their guns at each other, but Jack jumps in the middle. “Don’t shoot! Hold your fire!” He faces Wilcox.
“Chief?
How’d you get here?”

Wilcox stares at him. “I got calls about a group of gunmen sneaking around a park near the White House disappearing into secret tunnels.”

“We’re here to save the president, Chief,” answers Jake. “You’ve
gotta
believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything!” shouts Wilcox. “It’s courtesy enough to fish you
outta
here before SWAT comes in and does things their way. Lower your guns, and let’s all come out of here alive.” Wilcox defiantly maintains his ground, one against six.

A back door flies open and Mendez bolts in, flanked by five other agents. “Put your hands up!”

Jack’s team and Wilcox waver at the multiple targets. Guns pointed in every direction.
Nerves on fire.

Charles speaks. “Mendez, listen…”

“Shut up!” yells Mendez. “You have broken into the White House, engaged with Secret Service agents and put a very annoying tranquilizer dart in my arm. Do not think for a second that these men will not end you. Put your hands up now!”

Jack tosses the folded paper at Mendez’s feet. “We found this on that downed agent. You need to look at it.”

“Like hell I do,” yells Mendez.
“Hands up!”

“Mendez!” shouts Jack. “You signed up for this job to protect the president.
Now’s your chance!
That is an all out attack plan.”

Mendez inspects the document.
“
Camp David
.”

“We don’t have to go any further, just keep the president from going there,” pleads Charles. “His life could depend on it.”

Mendez peers at Jack and Charles, evaluating their honesty. “He’s been there since this morning. Nothing has happened so far and you expect me to believe that something will happen now?
At
Camp David
?”

Suddenly, one of the agents behind Mendez puts his finger to his earpiece, a puzzled look upon his face. After a second, he steps forward and puts his arm on Mendez’s shoulder. “Mendez...”

“What is it?” exclaims Mendez, annoyed.

“We just lost contact with Camp David.”

Mendez looks at the agent and sees the worry in his eyes. He then looks back to Charles and Jack, reluctantly accepting their story.

Everyone glances at each other, seeking assurance they can lower their weapons. Like synchronized components in a large machine, the guns all lower very, very slowly.

“If you’re telling the truth,” begins Mendez, “then we have to get to Camp David ASAP.”

“But by the time we take a car…” says Jack.

“We’re the Secret Service,” breaks in Mendez, a grim smile appearing. “How do you think we travel?”

As the sun slowly sets across the countryside, a helicopter roars through the sky. In the back of the craft is Wilcox, Jack, Charles and their team in back.

Mendez sits in front with the pilot. “How close are we?”

“Pretty close,” answers the pilot. He nods towards the window and Mendez peers out.

He
doesn’t
see anything at first, just trees, but then a moment later,
Camp David
becomes visible. His jaw drops in shock. Smoke and fire are visible while two news vans are turned on their sides, as if
they’d
been attacked. Dead bodies litter the ground. It looks like a war zone. He glances back at the others.
“Looks ugly down there.”