Authors: Parker Hudson
Tags: #redemption, #spiritual warfare, #christian fiction, #terrorist attacks, #thriller action suspense, #geo political thriller
“No. You’re absolutely right. It’s very
strange.”
“Maybe you should contact the police.”
“Yes, if he’s not here by the end of the
reception, we’ll call the police.”
“Good. I don’t want anything to happen to
him.”
“I’m sure that nothing will.”
David noticed that Mustafin stayed online
with the two men at the other control center after their five
o’clock check-in. Mustafin said, “We will launch close to six. That
will put the missile in the Moscow area about seven, still with
thirty minutes of loiter time, if we need it. Have them begin their
final launch preparation.”
During his ordeal, David had occasionally
stretched. He did so again, this time stretching back and then
forward, all the way, so that his head was on his knees. Mustafin
was engrossed in his video conversation, and David used the moment
to look under the seat. There, clamped to the outboard frame of the
seat, was a thick clear plastic pouch containing a life vest, small
first-aid kit, and a flashlight. He recognized the flashlight’s
design: it was made of a strong anodized metal and took three “D”
batteries.
David sat up again and noticed that on the
USNet news a reporter was interviewing Trevor Knox in the foyer of
their new Moscow office building. It seemed so incongruous.
The flashlight. Could he get to it and
somehow use it as a weapon? A club? Could he reach down to get the
pouch with his right hand alone, without Mustafin noticing?
Elizabeth was in the hospital room that
morning watching the USNet news magazine when Rob came out of a
sedated sleep. “They say they’re going to cover the President’s
speech at USNet headquarters live, and a minute ago they
interviewed Mr. Knox. But we haven’t seen your father yet. Right
now they’re doing a background piece on the Russian President.”
Eight hundred kilometers southeast of
Moscow, in a small deserted valley northeast of Rostov-on-Don,
Lieutenant Andryushin’s team ramped the launch rails above the cab
so that the missile could fly free. Then they backed away.
Andryushin signaled a thumb’s up to Captain Rusnak, who was
standing beside his car, fifty meters away.
Trevor Knox and Peter Goncharov waited in
the ground level of their new headquarters. Most of the invited
guests—from all over the world—had gathered and were upstairs in
the large hall, looking at USNet information and sipping champagne.
The room was decorated in the red, white and blue colors of both
nations’ flags, and there were several banners showing the two
flags together, with “Friendship” in English and Russian written
underneath.
As they stood together near the open front
doors, Peter said, “I still can’t imagine where David is. He’s just
disappeared. I know how much he was looking forward to this
event.”
“I hope he’s all right,” Knox replied. “A
good man.”
“Yes. Very much.”
An SUV drove into the compound, and Tanya
Prescott emerged from the passenger seat. “Two minutes, max,” she
said, as she greeted the two men. “They’re having a great day. Hey,
where’s David?”
“We’re not sure,” Knox replied. “We haven’t
seen him since just after breakfast. We’re beginning to be a little
worried.”
“Really? Not good. Let me know if he doesn’t
turn up, and we’ll help in the look-see. Well, here they come…”
The approaching sirens grew louder, and the
caravan turned into the compound, led by several black SUV’s with
blue flashing lights. They peeled off to the perimeter, and a
single long limousine with flags flying in front pulled up to the
doors of the USNet headquarters. Secret Service agents opened the
front doors, looked all around, then opened the side doors, and
President Harper and President Temirov emerged. The Russian
President was not as tall as his American counterpart. They smiled
at Knox, whom they had met at lunch, and walked over to their
hosts.
“President Temirov, President Harper, allow
me to introduce Mr. Peter Goncharov, who has been our Russian
operations manager for five years. He’s the reason for our success
and longevity in Russia.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” President Harper
said, extending her hand to the Russian.
President Temirov, his dark eyes beaming,
also shook hands with Goncharov, and they spoke in Russian.
After exchanging pleasantries and pausing
for a “photo op” at the doorway, the foursome entered and walked up
the staircase, engrossed in a discussion about USNet’s history in
Russia, while the press from the motorcade filed in behind
them.
When Mustafin switched screens to the Moscow
regional map, David could see the red blip, corresponding to ID
code 654321 dialed into the digit box, slowly pulsing at the
location of their headquarters building.
If I get the plastic pouch loose, will I be
able to open it with one hand? And if I get the flashlight out, can
I hit him with it in a way that will stop him before he shoots me?
I’ve never done anything like that. Lord, I know this sounds trite,
coming from me now, but I really am asking for your help. For my
family. And for the President.
It was about 5:45 pm in Moscow, and early
morning in the U.S., as the USNet News cameras showed the two
Presidents making their way around the perimeter of the large room,
shaking hands as they went. The phone on the hospital table next to
Elizabeth rang.
“Hello.”
“Mom?”
“Callie! My goodness, it’s early out in
California. How are you?”
“Great!”
“I’m glad. Are you watching the TV coverage
of the USNet reception in Moscow?”
“Not yet. I’m in my car.”
“I haven’t seen your father, but I assume
that we will.”
“Mom, that’s why I’m calling. If you don’t
see him, don’t, like, worry. It means he’s on the way home.”
“Great.”
“Yes. And Kristen and I will be at the
airport in ten minutes—we should be home this afternoon. Kristen
has her car at the airport. We’ll drive home, or to the hospital.
How’s Rob?”
Elizabeth was watching the Presidents mount
the small stage in Moscow.
“He’s better. His pelvis is broken, but
there don’t seem to be other internal injuries. He may come home
today, too, on crutches. Did you say Dad is on the way home now?
Missing the reception?”
“He was going to try to change his ticket
and leave Moscow today, but it would have been too early to call
and let us know. If he’s on the flight, he’ll call from New York.
And if he missed that one, he’s going to try to get a flight to,
like, Western Europe. So I think we’ll all be home today or
tomorrow.”
“Callie, this is great news. I love you and
can’t wait to see you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
Mustafin glanced at the news coverage that
showed Trevor Knox approaching the microphone at the podium. He
spoke into his headset to the Russian at the other end of the video
call. “All right, General, you have permission to launch.”
“Understood. We’ll send the confirming
signal.”
Mustafin swiveled around and smiled at
David. “What history we’re about to make! Not only will we get rid
of the self-righteous U.S. President, but we’ll create incredible
opportunities to move our people inside the Russian government, as
they are forced to rebuild. You have a front row seat for history
in the making. Too bad you won’t be able to share the experience
with anyone.” He smiled, turned back to his console, and opened up
the range on the map display to show most of Eastern Europe north
of the Black Sea.
Yusef had hardly slept, even with a pill.
His last night on earth. He had been up for hours, showered, said
his prayers, read the Qur’an, and now, dressed in only a T-shirt
and shorts, he was heading out the door for the mini-storage unit
near the airport, driving the rented van. Given the holiday, the
traffic would be light, and he expected to make good time. He
noticed what a beautiful day Allah had made, and smiled.
Knox stood at the microphone behind the
Presidential podium while the applause died down and the USNet
cameras broadcast to the world. Behind him in chairs were
Presidents Harper and Temirov, the U.S. Secretary of State, Sandra
Van Huyck, and several other dignitaries.
“We are delighted to be here today to
celebrate our American Fourth of July in a way that no one could
have imagined only a few years ago. We at USNet are particularly
honored to have with us both President Temirov and President
Harper, signifying the bond between our two nations, which has
grown closer at all levels as we have learned to work together: in
government, in cultural exchanges, and in business.
“As one of the oldest still functioning—and
might I say thriving—joint ventures in Russia, we are honored and
humbled to have been selected as the site for our leaders’ remarks
on the future of business between our two nations.
“On this historic anniversary of our
nation’s founding, I, particularly as an immigrant, am reminded of
our country’s underlying principles. The foundations for all
business discourse have always been civility, law, ethics and
accountability. We at USNet have practiced these principles since
our earliest days, and we are pleased to endorse the efforts of
both governments to restore morality in the workplace. As you have
previously heard, we support President Harper’s recently enacted
Media and Entertainment Reform Law, and we encourage President
Temirov to adopt similar legislation here in Russia.
“Beyond these foundations, we pledge that
our company will assist both governments and other companies in
making recommendations so that ethical business can more easily be
transacted between our two great nations.
“But I know that you did not come here today
to hear me, so I will be brief. Before introducing these two great
leaders of vision, I do want to take the opportunity to give each
of them a small token of our appreciation and a recognition of this
special day.”
Knox held up a small badge, and the camera
focused in for a close-up. “We have for each of them a specially
cast friendship pin, showing both the U.S. and Russian flags, with
the word ‘friendship’ in both languages beneath them. Before they
speak, I want to pin this special day’s memory piece on each
lapel.”
Applause erupted in the hall, and Knox
turned. The two Presidents stood up, smiling, and Knox approached
President Temirov first. He pinned the flags on his lapel, they
shook hands, and President Temirov said “Thank you” in English.
Then Knox moved to President Harper. As the
applause continued, Knox reached up for the lapel of her suit and
said to the President, “Thank you for coming. As you probably know,
pins like this are a special tradition for Russians. We hope that
you’ll keep this one on for the rest of the day, particularly at
the Fourth of July celebration tonight.”
“Thank you, Trevor, for all that you’ve
done. And, yes, I’ll keep it on. A great idea.”
“Thank you, Madame President.”
Knox turned back to the podium, the guests
were seated, and he said, “Now I’d like to ask our Russian
operations manager, Peter Goncharov, to introduce President
Temirov.”
Captain Rusnak surveyed his men in the
relative safety of a small ravine one hundred meters from the
launcher. He could see the expectation on their faces. He glanced
down at the mobile firing board and noted the eight green lights.
He pushed the Fire button.
There was a thunderous roar as the booster
rocket kicked in and the turbojet-powered GoFor cruise missile was
propelled up its short track to flying speed. Almost before they
could blink, the deadly missile was on its way north.
The men shouted and slapped each other on
the back. As they did so, the missile received its initial guidance
information from the command center at NovySvet, correcting its
path slightly to head straight for Moscow.
Mustafin reacted to the news from General
Beleborodov by raising his right fist in the air. “Great! Yes, yes,
I see it.”
David leaned to the right so that he could
see around Mustafin, and he noticed a white light on the map of
Europe. This one was moving rapidly to the north. And he noticed
red light to the northwest, which looked to be in Moscow, with a
number next to it.
That flag pin Knox just pinned on President
Harper must contain the micro-repeater for the GPS system. Code
654321.
Salim’s other student, Perviz, used his next
remaining phone to call his mentor with the pre-arranged message
that he was up and moving toward their storage site near Kennedy
Airport on Long Island. The weather in New York was mid-level
overcast, but Perviz knew from his training that there should be
plenty of time to lock onto a climbing jet before it entered the
clouds.
President Temirov was at the podium, his
remarks simultaneously translated for USNet viewers. He was
praising the American business community for remaining in his
country despite sometimes difficult conditions, and for teaching
their Russian counterparts. He challenged both the Western and
Russian business leaders assembled for the reception to move out
beyond the country’s largest cities and to bring the benefits of
free enterprise to all of the regions.
From his seat David watched as President
Harper began her remarks on the USNet News feed, while the pulsing
white light moved rapidly north on Mustafin’s console.
He could hear the President’s encouraging
words on trade and business development, new program initiatives,
and praise for USNet’s leader, Trevor Knox, as an example for all
to follow.
He’s going to kill you!
He thought
again about the flashlight, and again he stretched and looked
beneath the seat. Mustafin did not seem to notice.
I think I can
reach the pouch. Surely it’s designed to come off easily. But when
should I do it? Mustafin’s got to be involved in something intense.
Start to finish I’ll only have a few seconds, and I’ll have to be
quiet.