First Strike (13 page)

“I'm here, aren't I?” said Kate, exasperated. “What do I have to do to prove myself to you?”

Marshal Wieng had been watching the exchange with interest. “You have to kill the first hostage,” he said. He turned to Colonel Shu. “Go with her. Bring in the first two hostages, and we shall see if the President is really as resolved as he claims.”

“You saved his life once,” Kent told the President. “You going to do it again? The first to die will be that boy. Him
and one other. But not our friends from the Chinese Embassy, not yet. We'll save them for later. I don't care who else you choose, just bring them here. Now.”

One of the gunmen shoved Rich into the room where the hostages were being held and shouted across to the woman with cropped hair.

“Another one for you, Marcie.”

“The more the merrier,” she called back. “Make yourself at home, kid.”

Rich quickly scanned the room. He tried to make it seem like he was lost and confused, choosing a place on the floor at random. But when he sat down and pulled his knees up under his chin, he was next to Dex Halford.

“Sorry,” Rich murmured.

“No worries. Can't be helped,” Halford murmured in response. “We'll bide our time…”

Rich looked round at the other hostages. There looked
like nearly fifty people crammed into the room. All of them looked tired and scared. He knew how they felt. There had been some muttering and whispering when Rich was brought in, but the woman who seemed in charge of the other two gunmen in the room shouted for silence. She got it.

The silence was broken by the arrival of Colonel Shu and Kate Hunter. They spoke quietly to Marcie, and then Kate strode across to where Rich was sitting.

But before Kate could speak, one the Chinese men got to his feet and spouted a torrent of angry invective at Colonel Shu.

She answered him in the same Chinese dialect, brandishing her gun. The Chinese man glared at her for several long moments before he sat down again.

“His time will come,” said Colonel Shu to Marcie. “Very soon.”

“You—on your feet,” Kate snapped at Rich. She nudged him with her foot. She looked at the two Chinese men sitting further away before, both glaring now at Kate. Then she turned back to Halford. “You too. Up you get. Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” Rich asked. He didn't have to pretend to be nervous, even though he was sure that Kate
must be somehow working to get them free.

“You'll find out,” she snapped. Unseen by the gunmen or Colonel Shu, she winked.

Colonel Shu was watching Rich carefully as Kate led him and Halford to the door. “You were at the hospital in England. What are you doing here?”

Rich looked away. He braced himself for the blow, but Colonel Shu had turned and was gesturing for them to walk ahead of her. “It is of no importance,” she decided. “This way.”

They followed Kate out of the room and along the corridor. Colonel Shu stayed close behind them, with her gun at the ready. As they reached the end of the corridor and turned towards the Roosevelt Room, Kate stopped and held up her hand, frowning.

“Wait, Colonel Shu!” Her voice was an urgent whisper.

Shu pushed past Rich and Halford. “What is it?”

Kate did not reply. Instead she grabbed the machine pistol Shu was holding and wrenched it away from her.

But Shu held on tight, twisting it back towards Kate. Her foot lashed out, catching Kate in the midriff and forcing her away. Kate doubled up, letting go of the gun. Colonel Shu aimed, her finger tightening on the trigger.

Then Rich slammed into her, knocking Shu sideways;
the gun went flying. Rich scrambled to his feet, but Shu was already in a karate stance. Her foot whipped out again, catching Rich on the chest. He staggered back and tried to parry the savage jabbing of Shu's tensed hands.

Kate aimed a punch at Shu, but it was parried easily. Kate kicked out, but Shu grabbed the grey material of her suit trousers and spun her round, pushing her away. Kate fell to the floor and Shu continued her relentless attack on Rich.

Rich backed away, looking for an opportunity to punch back. But he was fighting a losing battle, and barely able to stay on his feet. Then suddenly, Colonel Shu took a flying leap, but not at Rich—past him, towards the fallen gun. She landed, rolled, collected the machine pistol and was upright again in a single fluid movement.

Her mismatched eyes were filled with anger as she aimed the gun at Kate.

“You traitor.” Shu shoved Rich aside. She glanced at Halford, but he was standing absolutely still, his hands behind his back. He was obviously no threat.

Colonel Shu stood between Rich and Halford, aiming the gun at Kate. Her mouth twisted into a smile.

A smile that froze as Halford brought his hands from
behind his back. He pressed the gun that Rich had given him to the side of Colonel Shu's head.

Shu let Kate take the machine pistol from her. Then in a blur of sudden motion, she turned quickly, pivoting on one heel and struck out at Halford.

Except he was no longer there. He had already taken a step to one side, anticipating the attack. With Colonel Shu unbalanced and confused he stepped towards her again. In a quick, easy movement, he tossed the handgun in the air. As Colonel Shu watched the gun in surprise, Halford clenched his now-empty hand into a fist and thumped her hard across the chin.

Colonel Shu dropped to the floor. Halford opened his hand and caught the gun.

“That'll teach you to show off.”

“We need to lock her up somewhere,” said Rich.

“It'll have to be pretty secure,” Halford pointed out.

“I know just the place,” said Kate. “Snip a wire, and there's no way she can get out.”

The military ambulance was only metres outside the cordon when the man in a suit flagged it down. He waved his ID at the driver so fast, he had no time to read it.

“We need a couple of minutes with the patient; I hope that's all right.”

Before the driver could answer he heard the back doors of the ambulance open, and surprised voices from inside.

“No, sir, it is not all right.” But the man had already walked away, and the driver jumped out of the ambulance to follow.

The back doors were open and two men were talking quickly and earnestly with the patient. A paramedic was trying to usher them out again, but with no success.

“I'm sorry, sir,” the driver said. “I'll get rid of them.”

“No, wait,” said the patient. He was propped up on a gurney, a drip attached to the back of his hand and his leg strapped and bandaged. “These guys saved my life. Give us a couple of minutes, OK?”

He smiled at Chance and Ardman.

“So what can I do for you gentlemen?” Roberts asked as soon as he was alone with the British intelligence officers.

“You are the commander who's been given authority to enter the White House and rescue the President,” said Ardman. “And as far as I'm aware that order hasn't been rescinded. We want you to take over the infiltration again.”

Roberts gave a short laugh. “Hey, I'm wounded, here. And my team is shot to hell. Only Al and Barney are left. They're good, but they're not that good. Anyway, my loyalty is to the United States of America.”

“Then help us to save its President,” Ardman said. “My hands are tied unless I can get official clearance. If you second my people to your unit, and if you command the operation, we can do the job.”

Roberts pointed at his leg. “I'm not commanding anything like this.”

“We'll get you linked in,” Chance told him. “Full video and radio link. The team leader will have operational command of course, but you make the Go—No go decision.”

“What do you say?” Ardman asked. “You know how critical the timing is. Those maniacs in there could have access to the launch procedures any time.”

“That's their plan? You're kidding.”

Ardman shook his head. “I wish we were.”

Roberts' head flopped back on the narrow pillow. “OK, say I did give you the authority, who are these people you reckon can pull off a rescue from one of the most secure buildings on the planet?”

“The only people who could, apart from maybe your
own team. They're ready and waiting. They've got floor plans and security details, and they've even marked out the floor layout in a hangar I borrowed over at Dulles Airport,” Ardman said. “They've been planning and training since they arrived yesterday. The SAS.”

Roberts drew in a deep breath. “You're a very convincing man, Mr Ardman.”

“Thank you.”

“But your SAS team still lack what we needed. They have no idea what's really going on inside the White House. They'd need to know the number and positions of gunmen, how well armed and trained they are, where the hostages are being kept, what support we might have once inside…You convince me you know even half of that, and you're in business. But I don't know how you're going to find it out.”

“I do,” a voice said from the back of the ambulance. “You can ask me.”

A female figure was silhouetted in the open doors. She wore a torn dress that had been pale blue but was now stained with mud.

“Jade?!” said Chance in amazement. “How the hell did you get here?”

Marshal Wieng nodded to Kent. “It's time at last. Now you can open the case.”

Grinning, Kent leaned across Steve and pressed the button-catches by the clasps holding the metal briefcase closed. Nothing happened. He tried again, but the raised buttons didn't move. They didn't press in or slide or turn.

Wieng drew a deep, impatient breath. “Open it,” he said to Steve.

The man shook his head. “I can't.”

“I said,
open it
.” Wieng brought up his gun and pressed it hard against the side of Steve's head.

“Can't you see he's telling the truth?” said the President. “The case doesn't open. Not for him, not for anyone. Not without an electronic key that you don't have.”

Wieng jolted the end of the gun viciously into Steve's head, knocking him aside. He aimed at the briefcase.

“No!” Kent rasped. “You'll damage the launch station. They're just trying to make us angry so we'll make a mistake. Wait for the hostages. Then they'll open it.”

Wieng was still breathing heavily, but he lowered the gun. “You are right. We have plenty of time. China is going nowhere. It will still be there when we launch.”

“Though it won't be soon afterwards,” said Kent.

The paramedic wasn't happy, but he fixed Captain Roberts up as best as he could, telling him more than once that he should be in hospital.

“You've lost a lot of blood, and when the painkillers start to wear off, you'll know about it.”

“I'll leave when the President does,” Roberts told him. “Not before.”

He made a couple of quick calls on the driver's cell phone. The first was to the Pentagon, where he spoke to a woman he knew only as ‘Broker'. She assured him that what Ardman had said was true and that ‘things' were ‘happening'. She also gave him a codeword he needed to identify himself to the Quartermaster at a military depot in Maryland.

The Quartermaster, Staff Sergeant Johnson, took down the list of equipment that Roberts asked for.

“That all?”

Roberts gave a short laugh. “It'll do.”

“It had better. You guys aiming to start a war or something?”

“Aiming to stop one,” Roberts replied.

“You'll put me out of business,” Johnson said. But neither of them laughed at that.

By the time Roberts snapped the cell phone shut, Al and Barney were standing at the end of the gurney.

“So this is for real?” said Al.

“You know the situation.”

Barney said, “We've just got back from Dulles. Those guys have a pretty neat set up. They've got plans and schematics, a whole mock-up of the West Wing with lines painted on the hanger floor to show where the walls are. They know their stuff.”

“They want helicopters,” Roberts said. “They know they can't get in from the roof, don't they?”

Al nodded. “Yup.”

“So what happens next?” Barney asked.

The answer came from behind him. Ardman was standing at the back door of the ambulance. “If Captain
Roberts has organised the equipment we need, then we just have to wait for the Pentagon to sort out the small matter of the chain of command.”

“Could take a while,” Roberts warned. “If General Wilson doesn't agree, which he won't, things could get sticky.”

“Which is why we aren't going to wait. If your two colleagues here would like to come with me, I have a little treat in store for them.”

Al and Barney looked at Roberts, who nodded as best he could while lying in the narrow bed. “What did you have in mind?”

Ardman smiled. “Mr Chance and Jade are going to give your friends a tour of the White House. Or at least, some of the parts of it that are not on the plans you were given. Get your guns, as they say, and we'll be on our way.”

Rich and Halford were pushed into the Roosevelt Room by Kate Hunter, their hands tied behind their backs. Kate was carrying Colonel Shu's machine pistol.

Rich didn't have to act much to look suitably scared.

There were two gunmen in the room, as well as Wieng and Kent. One of them had Chuck at gunpoint; the other
was standing smirking, holding a Secret Service handgun. Apart from the President himself, the only other person in the room was Secret Service agent Steve, his wrist still attached to the briefcase by a heavy metal chain.

The President turned as they entered. He looked tired and drawn. Marshal Wieng, by contrast, was elated. Kent frowned as he saw that Kate was alone, and had a gun.

“I told you Tony was missing,” she said. “Colonel Shu's gone to check what's happening.”

“Without her gun?” said Kent. “Looks to me like
you
'
ve
got it.”

“I needed it to secure these hostages. Anyway, she's got a handgun.”

Kent frowned, but he seemed satisfied with the explanation. He turned back to the President, standing beside the briefcase. “Last chance, Mr President.”

“You know my answer,” said the President.

“This is going to be a long day,” Kent told him. “But if that's how it has to be…” He turned to Marshal Wieng. “I guess we do this the hard way.”

“So it would seem. Mr President—open the briefcase.”

The President glanced at Rich, and then looked away. “I can't.”

Marshal Wieng patted the President on the shoulder,
as if he was consoling a friend. “Of course you can't.” He turned to Kate. “Kill them.”

She raised the gun.

Everything was a sudden blur. Rich had the makeshift tranquiliser gun that Kate had assembled. He brought it from behind his back, and fired straight at the gunman covering Chuck.

The gunman stared in surprise at the dart sticking out of his chest. As the man collapsed, Chuck wrenched his gun from him and brought it round in a swift arc that connected with the chin of the second gunman.

But the second gunman reeled back just as Halford produced his handgun and fired at him. The bullet missed. The gunman fired his own pistol, but without time to take aim the bullets went wide.

Rich dived for cover.

Marshal Wieng grabbed the President and positioned him as a shield before Kate could fire.

Kent also reacted quickly. He had the metal briefcase and thrust it into Steve's hands, jamming his gun into the man's face. Halford stepped forward, bringing his handgun to bear on Kent.

The gunman Halford had missed was still firing, getting his aim now. A bullet grazed past Kate's ear, and
she responded with a rapid burst of fire. The man was slammed back across the table.

But he was thrown between Kent and Halford. Halford moved to one side as quickly as his false leg would allow. But he wasn't quick enough to stop Kent dragging Steve to his feet. Now Kent was behind Steve, the gun still jammed in the man's neck.

Marshal Wieng was also backing away with the President.

“It's over,” Chuck yelled at them. “Give yourselves up now, while you still can.”

But as Wieng and Kent backed from the room into the corridor, they could all hear the shouts from deep within the White House. In moments, more of Kent's team would arrive—and Rich knew he and his friends would be outnumbered.

Meanwhile, Wieng was getting away with the President, and Kent had Steve and the Football. With both of them, Marshal Wieng could launch the US nuclear missiles.

Wieng fired suddenly. A burst of shots that ripped into the floor by Chuck's feet. He dived to one side, unable to fire back in case he hit the President. Kate returned fire—but it was a warning only, hammering harmlessly into the ceiling.

Wieng had dragged the President out into the corridor. Kent, gun at Steve's neck, backed out after him. The worst thing about it was the man's smile. He'd won and he knew it.

With no chance at all of a clear shot, there was nothing that Halford or Chuck or Kate could do. Only Rich could stop them now. He took aim, swallowed as he tried not to think how important this moment was, and fired. It was the only thing he could do.

He shot Steve.