Midnight Sun by Basil Sands (books to read as a couple TXT) 📗

won’t be able to talk during this whole?”

“ Outsidethatfifty-footzone,even theSecretServiceheadsets onlyworkabouthalfthetime.SamewithourFBIradios—best wecando.Localpoliceareoutofluck.”

“Can'twejustnotrunthejammer?” Hildeasked withatoneofexasperatedsarcasm.

“Nope,” Tomer said. “President'ssecuritychiefinsistsweuseit.SaidthatsincetheSecretServicecanmostlyheareachother,theycanjustspeaksloweranditshouldbeall right.”

“Thatmakesnosense.” Mikeshookhishead,alookofdisbeliefonhisface. “Speakslower?Areyouserious?That'slikeshoutingsoadeafpersoncanhearyou.”

“Yeah,Iknow,butthere'snothingIcando.Thepresident'spersonalsecuritychiefinsistswekeepthejammeron. Bytheway,thecityisgivingawayfreebreakfastburritosoverbytherosegarden. Anyonehungry?”

“DamnrightI’mhungry,” Tonia said. “Let’sgo,bigguy.”

“Youguys?” TonymotionedtoMikeandHilde.

“Youtwogoahead,” Hilde said,thenmumbled, “We’llgrabsomethinglater.”

Thecouplemovedtowardthefoodstandonthefarendofthepark.ToniastoppedeventryingtolooklikethehardSecretServiceagentandmorphedintoathirty-five-year-oldlove-struckteenagerasshewalkedbesideTomer.

“Thisisinsanity,” Mikesaid. “Whatifthis doesn’t involve abomborradiowaves?”

“I'matechnologyperson,” Hildereplied, “andIhateitwhenpeoplerelyontechnologytodothedetailedwork.”

Mikepointedacrossthefieldtothecornerof9thandL.  Marcusmovedpastagroupofpoliceofficers.HildehadgottensecuritybadgesforbothhimandLonniesotheycouldmovefreelypriortothecrowd’sarrival.  Mikewavedhisarm,andMarcusjoggedthedistancetowardthem.

“Morning,” Mikesaid. “How’sLonnie?”

“Grumpy,” Marcusreplied. “Shedidn’twanttostaybehind. Shewascomingthisway,butherbackwashurtingsobad,Iconvincedhertotakeaspotinthehotelacrossthestreet.”

MarcuspointedtotheHawthorneSuitesHotelacross9th.

“There’sasittingroominthesecondstoryonthecornerlookingovertheparkandthemountains.She’smyoverwatch.Ifsheseesanything,she’llcallmycellphone’stwo-wayradio.”

“Good.I’dhateforhertobedownhereifamessstarts,” Hildesaid, “buthercellphonemaynotwork.They'rerunningajammerthatcoversallbuttheareaaroundthestage.”

“Doyourradiosatleastwork?” Marcusasked.

“AccordingtoTomer,onlyhalfthetime,” Hilde said.

“What?” Marcus face displayed stark disbelief.

“Yeah,” Mike muttered, “It’s a wonder this president has lived this long with a security detail that thinks like his.”

“AnythingelsenewaboutFarrahorKharzai?” Marcus asked.

“The lovebirdswerebothherea few minutes agoandhadnothingtoadd.Warnerisroamingaround,lookingveryconspicuouslylikeagovernmentundercoveragent.Otherthanthat,twohundredNationalGuardsoldiers,ahundredpoliceofficersandstatetroopers,andafewdozenotherSecretServiceandFBIpersonnelarewatchingverycloselyforourmen.”

“Iwouldbeverysurprisediftheyshowuphere,” Mike said.

“Idon’tknow,” Marcus replied. “They'rebothhereforrevenge.Theymaywanttobeonthefrontrowwhenithappens.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Mike pointed to the first groups of spectators entering the park grounds and heading toward the stage area.

“The Secret Service hasscreeningboothssetuponthestreets,” Hilde said, “funnelingfolksinthroughalimitednumberofaccesspoints.They'vealsolockedtheentrancestotheundergroundtunnelsandwe'vegotplentysetsofeyesthat'llbemixedinwiththecrowd.Ican'timaginethemgettingtooclose—especially Kharzai,withallthathair.”

“Let'sjustprayyou'reright,” Mike said.

Avoicecalledoutfromnearby. “Hey!MojoJohnson!”

Marcusturnedaround,eyesscanningtheslowlyincreasingstreamofpeoplemillingaboutthepark.Ashort,wirymanwavedhisarmstogetMarcus'sattention, a wide smile on his face asheapproached.

“JimWalters,” Marcussaid,hisexpressionstretchinginasmileasmemoriesofthepastdriftedtothefrontofhismind. “Whatintheworldareyoudoinghere?”

“Iheardyouwereintownandfiguredyou'dfreakin'needsomeonetohaulyourassaroundsomewhere.”

Theyclaspedeachotherinaback-slappingman-hug,bothtalkingovereachotheratonce.

“It'sbeennearlysixyearssinceIsawyouinIraq,” Marcus said. “Goodtoseeyoumadeitoutofthere.”

“Yeah,nothankstoyouandWazzy,” JimrepliedturningtoMikeandHilde. “MojoandthatSealWasnerputmeinspotsthatgotfourboatsshotoutfromunderme.TwiceIfoundmyselfswimmingtheEuphratesduckingRepublicanGuardlead.Goodthingtheyweren'tasmotivatedtokillmeasIwastostayalive.”

“Yeah,” Marcus said, “thoseweresomehairyopswewenton.” TurningtotheFarris's,hesaid, “ThisisMikeFarris,formerreconofficer,andhiswifeHilde.”

“Wemetattheairportlastweekwhentheycamein,actually,” Jim said.HepointedatFarris. “Youdidn'tmentionyouwereanofficer.IfI'dknownthat,Iwouldn'thavebeensocordial.” Hegrinnedmischievously.

“Sowhatareyoudoingheresoearly?” Marcus asked.

“Wifewantedtocomeseethepresident.SaidIneededtocometoo,sinceIworkedforthepastseveral Oval Office tenantsforsolong.”

“Whattimedidyougetheretobeonthegroundsosoon?” Hildeasked.

“Threea.m.,” Jimreplied. “Canyoubelieveit?Wakingupatoneinthefreakin'morningtodriveanhourintothecity,thenstandinlineforanhourjustsoIcouldfindafrontrowseatformylovelybridetowatchaspeechbyapresidentIdidn'tevenvotefor.”

“AsIrecall,” Marcus said, “you'renotintopoliticsthatmuch.”

“Iwasn't,” hereplied, “butsinceretirement,Isomehowgotintolisteningtothoseknuckle-headedtalkradiohostsonthesquawk-boxandtheygotmeallriledupwiththeirnonsensecraptalkandstartedmeintofollowingpolitics.Nowadays,wouldyoubelieveIactuallyfillinontheradioforthelocalguyssometimes?”

“Seriously?” Marcus said,trulyshocked.JimWalterswasthelastpersonheexpectedtobeatalkradiohost,especiallyinaconservativetownlikeAnchorage.WhileintheNavy,Jimnevertooksidesinapoliticalconversation,evengoingsofarastowalkawayifthetalkwasheadedthatdirection.Heusuallyspoutedoff aboutthemilitaryoathmeaningservingtheofficeofthepresident,notthemaninthechair.

“So,you'relikethelocalRushLimbaugh?” Mikeasked.

“Hell,no!” Jim replied. “I'montheothersideforthemostpart,Libertarianstyle.Definitelynotawhiny-assed,limp-dick,tweed-jacket-with-elbow-patchesrammed-in-the-assliberaldweeb,butnotastuffed-shirt,hypocritical,blow-hard,fat-ass,giving-blow-jobs-to-big-businessconservativebutt-head,either.I'vegotmyownagenda,andiftheyeverputmeinoffice,I'llfirethewholelotofthegood-for-nothingpecker-woods.” TurningtoHildehe,added, “PleaseexcusemyFrench.”

“That'snotanyFrenchIknow,” shesaid. “Iimaginethat’s whytheycallittalkinglikeasailor.”

“Soundslikeyouhaven'tchangedmuch,” Marcus said.

“WifesaysIhave,” Jimsaid, “butIthinkshejustneverknewmeallthatwellforthefirstfifteenyearswhileshewassecondwifetotheNavy.NowthatI'mathomeallthetime,shesaysItalktoomuchandneedtogetajobsomewhereotherthaninthegaragemakin'freakin'thingsouttawood.”

Aforty-somethingKoreanwomanadvancedtowardthem,herfacepartiallyobscuredbyahuge  wide-brimmedsunvisor.LonniereferredtothekindofsunshadepopularamongKoreanajummas(middle-agedwomen)asa“DarthVisor.” Thewoman’sbodylanguagewastightandpurposeful,and energypulsedoutofeveryshort,sharpstrideasifshewereforcingtheearthintosubmissionwitheachstep.

Jimturnedtoherandsmiled. “Yobo,c'mereandmeetsomeofmyoldchingoos.”

“Idon'tneednomo'trouble.” ShespokewithaharshPusanaccentthatturnedherr'sintod's,l'sintor'sandf'sintop's. “Younufpometohandle.”

“Yeah,yeah...I'llhandleyouall right,” Jimsaid. “Suki,thisisMarcus'Mojo'Johnson.Itoldyouabouthimbefore.AndthisisMikeFarris,alsoaMarine,andhiswife,Hilde.”

“Onyonghaseyo.” MarcusgreetedherwithaslightbowandthetraditionalpoliteKoreangreeting,followedbysayinghowniceitwastomeether. “Manabeyosopangapseumnida.”

“Heh?” Suki'seyeswidenedathearinghernativelanguagefromhim. “NotoomanyMedicans  speakuhHangul.Yougotnoaccent.Whehblackmanlikeyoulearndat?”

“IwasstationedtherefortwoyearswiththeROKMarines.”

“Ooh,tupguy.” SheturnedtoMike, “YouspeakuhHangultoo?”

“No,ma'am,” Mikereplied, “Marcus’sbrainisbiggerthanmine.IhaveahardenoughtimewithEnglish.”

SukigaveHildean overtly judgmentallook,herpermanentlytattooedeyebrowscrunchinginanexpressionthatcouldcutdiamonds.

“Youbedipretty. Youmussabelotsyounguhdenyouhusband,heh?”

Hildeblushed. “Thanks,it'sonlyacoupleofyears.You'reveryprettytoo.”

“Don'tlieme,” Sukiscolded. “Jimmyjustblind,buthegoodhusbandandhelikekimchi,soIkeephim.”

“Marcus'swifeisKoreantoo,” Hildesaid, deflectingthe intimidating directattention.

Suki'seyesbrightened. “Yah?Shemakeekimchipoyoutoo?”

“Notreally—we usuallybuyitfromthestore.She’sadopted,grewuphereinAlaska.”

“Toobad. You comemyhouse,JimmyyoudrinkeebeeyuhandIteachyouwipehowmakeekimchi.Imakeebesskimchi,bessyouevahtase,gayentee!”

MarcussmiledatthethoughtofLonnielearningtomakekimchifromthisfirebrandofawoman.

“I’msureshe’dlovethat,ma’am,” hesaid.

“Youbetcha,” shereplied.

“We’dbetterletthemgetbacktowork,” Jim said.

“Work?” Sukiblurted. “Youseeketsubis?Youpezidenbodigod?”

“Notexactly,” Mikesaid, “butweareworkingwiththematthemoment.”

“Jimmy,youfriendsalltupguyslikedis?Maybeyougetuspronlowsheet,heh?” Suki said, her eyes wide in anticipation.

“Get you what?” Hilde asked.

“Front row seats,” Jim translated

“Sure,” Hilde said. “ You’dbetterheadupnow,though.”

“Hurryup,Jimmy.” Sukigrabbedherhusbandandpulledhisarmtowardthestage. “Wegotpronlowsheetipwegonow.”

“LookslikeIgottamakemyyobohappy,” Jimsaid. “Seeyouguyslater.”

Marcusbarelysuppressedburstingintolaughterashe watchedthetoughretiredNavychiefwarrantofficergetdraggedtowardthestagebyhistougherwife.

“Matchmadeinheaven,that,” hesaid. “Idon’tthinkanyoneelsecould’vetamedJimWalkerlikethatajummacould.”

“Scary,” Mike said.

Crowdswerenowflowingintothepark,makingtheirwaytowardthestagetogetaspottowatchthespeechesbysomeofthemostpowerfulmenintheworld.

Bytena.m., theparkwaspackedbythousandsofonlookers.Reportersandtelevisioncrewshedgedthecrowdalongthesides.Camerasfixedtheirfieldsofviewtowardthestageandthesmallpodiumwiththepresidentialsealaffixedtoitsfront.  Althoughthepresidentwouldnotbearrivingforanotherhour,theparkwasalreadyfull.Accesstotheparkwasclosedoff,nomorespectatorsallowedthroughthesecuritycordon.IfFarrahandKharzaiwerecoming,theywerealreadyonsite.

Thepresident’smotorcadepulledintotheparkatfiveminutesbeforeelevena.m.  Immediatelybehindthepresidentialconvoy came severallimousinesandahalfdozenSuburbanscarryingthepresidentofSouthKorea,theprimeministersofJapanandCanada,andtheforeignministeroftheUnitedKingdom.  Thepresidentandhisentouragemadetheirway across the lawntowardthestage.

Chapter27

Delaney Park Strip

Friday,June24th

08:33 a.m.

StevenFarrahsteppedlightlyacrossthecrowdedgreen,scanningthelengthoftheparkashemovedthroughthethrongofpeoplemakingtheirwaytowardthestagearea.Thefacesaroundhimglowedexpectantly,hopingtocatchaglimpseofthemostpowerfulmanintheworldandhisinternationalpeers.Farrahfingeredthesmall,roundAudistarterfobinhispocket.Helookedintothefaceofasoldierstandingnearby.Thesoldiernoddedapolitegreeting.  Farrahsmiledinreturn,imaginingthesoldiertorntobitsinthecomingchaos.

Aminimalapplicationofmakeup,changeofhairstyleandcolor,andmodifiedwardrobehaddonethetricktogethimpastthewatchingeyes.Bitsofsiliconeskinappliedtotheeyesockets,nose,andjawsalteredhisfeaturesjustenough,enablinghimtowalkpastanyhiddenfacialrecognitionscanners,orhumaneyes,thatmaybefocusingonhim.Theywouldeventuallypingonhisface,butthechangesmeantitwouldtaketimetosearchthedatabasesandhedidn'tneedtokeephiddenforever.Farrahwouldtrytoescape,buthedidnotexpecttosurvive.Heonlywantedtoaccomplishthemission. Vengeancewaswithinhisreach.

Newscrewsringedthecrowd and televisioncamerassentdigitalsignalstosatelliteshoveringatthefarreachesoftheatmosphere,preparedtobeamlivefeedsaroundtheworld.Theywouldgetaneyefulindeed,theabsolutebestintelevisionnews,anattackunrivaledsince9/11.Farrahwouldwatchthehorroronthefacesoftheseworldleadersastheywitnessedthekindofdestructiontheirownbombsraineddownonothernations.

Hefoundaspaceinthecrowdjusttenmetersfromthestage.Tooneside,afamilyofobesepeopleshiftedontheirfeet,sweatinganduncomfortableinthealready-hotmorning.Thehusbandandwifebothlookedliketheyweighedwelloverthreehundredpounds,andthechild,whocouldnothavebeenmorethanelevenortwelve,wasatleasttwohundredpounds.Theysmelledlikeoldcheese.  Onhisothersidewereamanandwomanwhoseappearancewasthepolaroppositeofthefatfamily.Tall,muscular.andchiseled,adornedwithdesignerclothingthatseemedoutofplaceintheArctic,theylookedliketheybothsteppedoutofaSwedishfashionmagazineandcarriedthemselveswiththehaughtyairofcoldNordicdeities.

Conceitedsuperiorityononesideandslothfulgluttonyontheother.Anabsurdimagecrossedhismind. Inthecomingpanic,thebeautifulcouplescreaminginterrorasthefrightenedfatfamilyeatsthemwhole.Hesuppressedtheurgetolaugh,carefulnottodamagehistemporaryappearance.

Behindhim,athicklyaccentedwoman'svoicemuttered, “Whyyoupickdisspot,Jimmy?Weshould'agoneuppronlow.”

“Shh,wegotheretoolate,” aman reponded,presumablyJimmy.

“Icannaseenothin',” saidthewoman. “Dem fatpeopleblockingmedissideanddemtallpeople'sblockingmedeuthaside.”

Farrahfeltapokeonhisshoulder,and heturnedhisheadtoseea heavilymadeupwoman with tattooedeyebrowsandahugesunvisorgivingheracartoonishappearance.

Suddenlychangingtoasweeter-soundingraspyvoice,shesaid, “Hi,youmineipIstandnexayou?I'mtooshort,cannaseepresdinbackhere.”

Jimmyrolledhiseyes,thenlookedapologeticallyatFarrah. “I'msorry.” Turningtohiswife,hesaid, “Suki, don'tbotherpeople.”

“No,” Farrah said. “It'squiteallright. There'sroomforonemore.”

“Tankyou,” shesaid,slidingupnexttohimas shegaveJimmyan“Itoldyouso”look. “IliveinMedicapipteenyears,nebaseepresdin.”

“Ah,well,Isupposeyou'llgettoseehimmomentarily.”

“YounotMedican,heh?” Shelookedathimquizzically. “YouaccentYangoNamja,Englishee.”

“Yes,ma'am,” Farrahsaid. “Iam British.”

“Youherebacation?” Sukiasked.

“No,business,” Farrahsaid,lookingimpatientlytowardtheheavilyguardedvehiclesfromwhichthelast of the leaderswereslowlydismounting.

“IbeenEnglandonce,” Sukisaid. “IbisitmybabybrudaatManchessaUnibersty,maybenineteenninetysix.Hepraychukudere.”

“Ibegyourpardon.” Farrah was surprisedtohearhisownuniversitynamedbysuchanuncouth person. “Heplayedwhat?”

“Chuku...uh...” Sheturnedtoherhusband, “Jimmy,wassachukucall?”

“Soccer,” hesaid, “orfootballinEngland.”

Farrahwasshaken,and ashockedlookcrossedhisface. “Whatwasyourbrother'sname?”

“YiJiSung. Hepraypootballderemebetwoyear,dengetonManchessaUnitedandpray.Nowhetoooldpray,buthestillsisstancoach.”

“DearGod,” Farrah said. “IknowJiSung. Wewereclosefriendsonthefootballteam.WetriedoutforUnitedtogetheraswell,and hegotmyspotafterIbackedout.”

“Wha?” Sukisaid,hereyesstretchingwide, “Wow,dasisamajing. Whassayouname?Icallhimtonight,maybegibhimyounumba.MynameSuki. Wassayouname?”

TheAirForceBandinterruptedtheirconversation,blastingafanfaretopresenttheforeignleadersastheymountedthestageinprocession.Farrahsnappedbacktohissenses.

“Oh,heredeycome,” shesaid,turningtowardthedignitaries. “Italkayoulater.”

Suki’sfullattentionlockedontothefamousmenclimbingthestage,lookingatthemasifatanyminuteoneofthemwouldcomedownandhandheranawardfromtheUN.

Smilingandchattingwitheachotherlikeschoolboysfilingintoaclassroom,theylookeddownonthecrowdimperiously, kingsand emperors eyingtheirsubjects. Farrah puthishandbackintohispocketandslidhisfingeroverthethreebuttonsonthekeyfob.Onebuttonforeachofthethreeexplosivedevicesinthetunnel.Threetinyplasticdotsthatwouldchangethefaceoftheworld.

Arowofhard-looking,observantmenstoodateithersideoftheplatform,theirpresencevisible,butnotintimidating. The governor of the State of Alaska stepped up to the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is with pride and great pleasure that I welcome to the Greatland the president of the United States of America.”

Thecrowd let out a roar of applause and cheers as the presidentialfanfaresoundedandtheyturnedtheirgazetowardthemanascendingthepodium.ThepresidentoftheUnitedStatesinpastincarnationshadonlyvisitedAlaskatwice.RonaldReaganhadasecretmeetingwithPopeJohnPaulIIin1986.GeorgeW.BushvisitedElmendorfAirForceBasetoseeoffalargetroopheadedtothewarintheMiddleEastin2005.ThiswasthefirsttimeasittingpresidentaddressedthegeneralpublicintheFrontierState.

Farrah'sheartthumpedagainsthisribcage.Thepresidentsteppeduptothemicrophone,raisinghishandsandstretchinghisfaceinasmilethatseemedmuchmoregenuinethanFarrahexpected.Ashebeganhisspeech,thepresidentlookedlegitimatelyhappytobeonthestageinfrontofthiscrowdofAlaskans,andtheyseemedtofeellikewise.

Tohisleft,Sukifannedherselffuriouslywiththeprogramcardthathadbeenpassedoutattheentrance,herhusbandpositioninghimselfsuchthathecaughttheexcessbreezeshethrewpastherownface.Themiddaytemperatureinthedirectsun,somewherenorthofeightydegrees,drew a constantstreamofsweatthatsteadilyranintohiseyes.Farrahreachedupandwipedhisforehead,sendingdropletscoursingdownhisface.Heletouta quaveringbreath,tookadeeperonetocalmhimself,thenglancedattheclustersofbodyguardsateithersideofthestage.Hewilledhimselfnottoshownervesbeneaththeirsearchinggaze.

Itwastime—there wasnoneedtowaitanylonger.Farrahstareddirectlyintothepresident'sface,listeningtothetempoandtoneas he began hisspeech.Hewaiteduntilthepresident’svoicestartedtowardaclimaxinpitch—he’d putanexclamationmarkonthesentenceforhim.Thesoundroseinvolume,andwhenitseemeditshighest,Farrahpressedthefirstbutton.Nothinghappened.Hepresseditagain.Nothing.Hequicklypressedallthreeinsequence.Noexplosion.Thepresidentialspeechcontinued.Farrahkepthiseyesstraightahead,expressionless,unabletohearanymoreofthespeech.Heglancedtohisleft.Kreshnik,dressedincitymaintenanceworker'scoveralls,stoodattheedgeoftheparkwithagroupofsimilarlyattiredmen.Theireyesmet.Farrahblinkedtwice,then returned his gaze to the stage.Kreshnik’seyesturnedbacktothepresident,thenhepulledhiscellphoneoutofhispocketandheldituptohisearasifreceivingacallandbackingoutofthecrowd.Hemovedawaywest,towardthetunnelentrance.

Suki’shusband,Jim,sidledupbehindher.Asheadjustedhisposition,puttinghisfaceintothefullbreezefromherfan,theEnglishmanwipedhishandacrosshisforehead,thenletoutashakywhooshofbreath.ThesoundandmovementdrewJim’sattention and heglancedtowardhim.Sweattrickleddownhisface,almostimmediatelyreplacedbynewbeadsofmoisturewellingacrosstheEnglishman’sskin.Jim'sattentionzeroedinonanirregularity.Tinydotsofsweatexpandedevenlyacrosstheman'sforeheadandcheeksandclean-shavenupperlip,butsomepartsofhisfaceweredry.Jimcouldseeporesontheskinoutsideofhiseyesockets,thebackhalfofhisjawline,andhisnose,butinthoseareas,nodropletsformed.Rivuletsofsweatranoverthoseplaces,butnoneoriginatedthere.

Farrahturnedhishead,lookingpastJimtoapointattheedgeofthecrowd.Asheturned,adropofsweatbrokeloose,tricklingfromhighonhischeekinafast-movingstreamacrosshisskin,thenvanishedasitcametothedryspot.Jimfeltafamiliarflush,thesenseofstandingneardeath.He'dlastfeltitwhilesneakinghisboatthroughRepublicanGuardlinesinIraqandhadhopednevertoexperienceitagain.

Chapter29

Delaney Park Strip

Friday,June24th

09:46 a.m

Warnersawthethick-lookingcitymaintenanceworkermakinghiswayalongtheperipheryofthecrowdtalkingintoacellphone.Hepulledouthisownphoneandlookedatthescreen—there wasnosignal.ThejammersTomermentionedwereworking.  Warnerdiscreetlyfollowedthemanuntilhecametoasmallbrickstructurebehindanofficebuilding,unlockedthedoor,andwentin.Hewaiteduntilhethoughtthemanhaddescendedthesteepstaircasetothesubterraneanpassage.Amomentlater,heenteredslowly,pausingtoallowhiseyestoadjusttothelight.Warnerdrewhisweaponfrominsidehisjacketandcontinuedtothebottom,soundlessly walkingtiptoedownthemetalstairs, knees slightly bent, body in a partial crouch, ready to pounce into combat.

Lekawatchedhiscousingointotheundergroundtunnel,andsawthetallFBIagentfollowhiminalone.Hemadehiswaytowardthesametunnelentrance,goinginslowly,producingaresinknifefrominsidehisboot.Theknife,hardandrazor-sharp and invisible to both x-ray and metal detectors,hadbeeneasytosmuggleontothegrounds.Kreshnikhadonetoo, as well as a handful of deadlythrowingdartsmadefromthesamematerial,tuckedwithintheirbootsaswell.Afteralltheyearsofprotectingthepresident,theSecretServicestilloverlookedthingstheirtechnologycouldnotpickup,allinthenameofprotectingcitizens’privacy.

Kreshnikapproachedavalveonthepipe.Warner’svoicerangout.

“Freeze!Handsoutfromyourbody,now!” Warnerfast-walkedtowardhim,gunpointedathischest.

Kreshnik’srighthandwentup.Theleftstayedoutofsight.

“Bothhands,now!

Kreshnikabruptlyducked,and hislefthandflickedintoview.Warnerfiredhispistoltwiceasheflattenedhimselfagainstthewall,dodgingtwoheavyresinspikes.Theshotsexplodedlikeahowitzerbatteryinthetightconfinesofthecement-linedtunnel,thesoundwaveenoughtoknockamanflat.Kreshnikspun,armsflailingasabulletslappedthemeatandboneofhisshoulder.

Lekachargedfrombehind,knifeinhand.Hisearsringingwildly,Warnerbarelyheardthethumpofbootsonfloor. HeattemptiedtorollawayfromLeka'spowerfulhammerhands a moment toolate.Warner'sarmflewuptodeflecttheknifethrust.Thebladecamefast,slicingmuscleandsinewbetweentheradiusandulna.Warnerletoutabellowingroarandjammedthebuttof his pistol into themuscularKosovar'sskull.LekaroaredbackandhammeredhisfistintoWarner'sforehead,smackingtheagentintothewallandjarringhispistolloose. Itspunacrossthefloorwithaclatter.

LekajabbedafisttowardWarner'sgut,and theagentraisedhislegtodeflecttheblow.Leka’sknucklescrackedagainstWarner'sknee.Bothmenshoutedinpain-filledfury.Gruntingbacktheagonyinhisarm,theknifehad wedgedsolidlybetweenthebones of his forearm,WarnergrabbedLeka'sshirtandusedtheman'sownbodyweighttoleveragehimacrossandaway.LekacounteredbygrabbingWarner'sclothes.Thetwomentoppledtothegroundinaseethingmassofgrapplingandgrowlinglikeacage-fightdeathmatch.Theirfacespressedagainsteachother, grinding jawbones into each other like weapons, using every part of their anatomy as a tool of inflicting pain. Fingernails gouged into skin. Knees pressed to thigh muscles and groin. Elbows dug into ribs.WarnerbitLeka'sear,drawingbloodandelicitingahowl.Lekagrabbedtheknifehandleprotrudingfromtheother's arm.WarnerletoutascreamanddroveathumbintoLeka'seye,thenrepeatedlyjammedakneeintohisgroin.Lekareactedtothetesticleblow,looseninghisgripenoughforWarnertorollintotheupperpositionanddriveanelbowintoLeka'ssolarplexus.

Outofthecornerofhiseye,hesawthewoundedKreshnik rise to his knees,grabthegunthathadflownfromWarner’shand,pickitup,andpointitathim.Warnerquicklyfell back ontohisside,allowingLekato raiseontopofhim. He tookthebait.Kreshnik'sshotexplodedasLekaroseaboveWarner.Alookoftriumphlit Leka's eyesinthebriefsecondbeforethebulletslammedthesideofhishead,faceburstinglikearupturedmelon.Lekasnappedtooneside,flyingoffthe Secret Service agentasifyankedbyanunseenstring.

“No!” Kreshnik shouted.

Warner,nowwithoutashield,scrambledtohisfeet.Anothershotrangout.Warnerinstinctivelystiffened,waitingforthebullettoslamintohisbody.Instead,hesawKreshnikstumbleback,alookofshockonhisface.Warnerturnedtoseewheretheshothadcomefrom.

Tomermovedforwardfromthedarknessbehindthem,gunraisedwithbothhands.

“Youall right,Robo-Cop?”

“Yeah,thanks.”

“Noproblem,but youowemeone.”

AsteadystreamofbloodranfromtheknifewoundinWarner'sarm,drippingfromhis fingertips.   HecheckedLeka'sbody.Hewasverydead,oneeyestaringwildlyintospace,theothersittingroundandbrightwhiteagainstthemashofbloodypuddingthathadbeentherightsideofhisface.The pair of agentsmovedtowardKreshnik,Tomer’spistolup andready.Warner’sweaponwasseveralyardsontheothersideoftheman.TheKosovarwasstillalive,moaning,shaking,bloodbubblingfromhismouth.Tomershookhisheadatthesight, his turned a pale green. Warner could see by the look in his eyes, he’d nevershotamanbefore.

Kreshnik'stremblinghandsmovedtohischest,clutchingatthewound.Hesaidsomethingneithermanunderstood,thenconvulsed,hisarmstwitching,onegraspingthefabricofhiscoverallsnearthepocket.Hesqueezedsomething,asifhewerefeelingfor anobjectinside,searchingwiththetipsofhisfingers.Akeyfobslidoutofhispocketontothefloor. Hegrabbeditandfumbledoverthebuttons.

“Shoothim!” Warnercriedout.

Tomerraisedhispistolandfiredthreerapidshots,twiceinthechestandonceinthehead.ThetopofKreshnik’sskullburst,hisdyinghandcontracting onthekeyfob.Aloudpopsoundedfardownthetunnel,followedimmediatelybyasharpcrack.Amomentlater,theairshookwitharoarthateruptedintoadeafeningexplosion, snappingtheatmosphereintochunkstoojaggedtobreathe.Thedistantdarknesssuddenlyblazedwiththelightofafirefedbyhigh-pressurejetfuel,itsbrightnessblossominglikeasolarflarereachingthroughthetunneltograbthem.

“Run!” Warner shouted.

He grabbedTomer by thearm andtheysprintedfortheexit,afireballexpandingbehindthem.Astheyreachedthestairs,smokestartedrisingfromtheirjackets.Thesharpodoroftheir burninghairpromptedthemtotakethree stairs atatime,Tomer'sfearoutweighinghisbulk.Thefiresuckedtheairfromaroundthem.Withaburstofprimalenergy,Warnerslammedthedooropenjustastheblazeofjetfuelfilledthespacearoundthem.Thepent-uppressurethrew thembodilyintotheair,abrightorangetongueofflamechasingthemastheirbodiesslammedontothepavementtwentyyardsaway.

Inthecenteroftheparkstrip,apillarofflamefiftyfeethighshrankbackintothegapingholefromwhichithaderuptedasthepressurereleasedviatheopendoor. Warner’s shocked systemrealized with a sudden new panic thathewasonfire.HejoinedTomeralreadyrollingonthegroundtoputout his ownflames.Screamingpeoplefledineverydirection.Inthedistance,averyloud “boom-pfff” thumpedtheair,Warnerhadheardthesoundbefore, in Afghanistan—malfunctioning mortar shellsburstingintheirtubes.

Chapter30

Delaney Park Strip

Friday,June24th

10:04 a.m

Muffledpopssoundedfarintherearoftheparkcrowd,followedbyaloudcrackandarumblebeneaththegrassyfield.Thefatfamilyjerkedtowardthecommotionasfastastheirbulkwouldletthem,theircorpulentnecksundulatingwiththemovement.SukiclutchedJim'sarm,stiffwithshock.Theyturnedtoseepeoplerunning.Jim'seyessnappedovertoFarrah. Themanstaredstraightahead,lockinghiseyesonthepresident,whoseviewofthedistantchaoswasunhindered.Farrah'smouthtwitchedwithapsychoticsmile.TheNordic-lookingcouplebothletoutayelp,terrorregisteringontheirfaces.Jimfollowedtheirgazeandsawapillaroffirereachingskyward,screamsechoing throughthecrowd.Panicswelled,startingattheback of the crowd,thenmoving closer live the wave of  a tsunami, driving unavoidable horror nearer and nearer, allowing no place to run.

SecretServiceandtheforeignbodyguardsrushedtoprotecttheircharges,formingawallofarmedflesh,gunsdrawn,waitingforatargettomaterialize.  Theyorganizedintoanimpassablecordonaroundthestage,shouldertoshoulder.Theirfaceswere hardlikeflint,nofear,readytoabsorbwhateverdangermight becoming.The dignitaries instantly vanished behind their bodyguards. Vehicles revved and the powerful men on the stage were whisked to safety behind bullet proof glass and armored plates.

Farinthedistance,severalblocksaway,cametwoloudexplosionscarriedontheairwithanothersoundthatmadeJimthinkofmetalbeingripped.HelookedbackatFarrah,nowcertainhewaspartofwhatwashappening.Insteadofbeing frightenedlikeeveryoneelse,themanlookedfurious,hisplansapparentlygonewrong.Heturnedbacktowardthestage,hisbodytense,abouttobolt.Jimreachedoutandgrabbedhimby the shoulderofhisjacket,yankinghard.

“Ohnoyoudon’t,youbastard,” heblurtedout.

FarrahspunaroundinamovethattookJimbysurprise.Hisarmcamedownsofast,Jimhadnotimetoavoidtheimpactoftheblow.Withaloudpop,hiselbowdislocated,elicitingascream,buthe didnotletgooftheman.Jim'swifestaredwide-eyed. Withasuddenflashofmovement,shetookFarrahunprepared, glanced at Jim’s damaged arm, back at Farrah, then lashed out with aslap tohisfacethat was sohardastormofwhitestarseruptedacrosshisvision.Hestaggeredbriefly,recovered,thenunleashedajabintothewoman’sface. Bloodspurtfromhernose.Shestumbledbackwards,cryingloudlyasshefellintothefatfamily.Thefathertriedtocatchher,buttrippedoverthechild,whofellontothemother,wholostherfootingandtoppledover.Thefamilythumpedtotheground,athousandpoundsoffleshcollapsingwitharesoundingthudalmostequaltotheexplosion.TheNordiccouplescreamedinterroratthescenearoundthem,anysenseofsuperiorityshatteredbytheirpanickedreaction.Theybackedawayinhorror,graspingeachotherasifitweretheirlastdayonearth.JimgrabbedFarrahwithhisgoodarm.Beforehecouldreleasethegripofhis injured arm,Farrahwrappedhisownaroundit,yankedhard,thenkneedhiminthestomach.Themultiplepointsofintensepainoverwhelmed him.Jimcrumpledtotheground, and Farrahescapedintothecrowd.

Chapter31

Delaney Park Strip

Friday,June24th

10:22 a.m

RagebuiltinFarrah'schest,swellingagainsthisribsandthreatingtoexpelhisorgans.Heseethedashismindprocessedwhatwashappening.  Kreshnikhaddetonatedtheexplosives,butsomeonehadreleasedthepressure,andtheparkhadnoteruptedintothehelloffire they had worked so hard to create.Worse than that, the realization was materializing in his mindthat someone had apparentlysabotagedthemortarshells.Asmuchashismindwantedadifferentexplanation,he could findnone.Kharzai,amanhehadtrusted,amanhehadknowntobealoyalmemberofthejihad,wasatraitor.

Secret Service agents shuttled the President out of sight in the blink of an eye. Whatever his reaction had been, Farrah would never know thanks to the fool and his obnoxious wife. Revenge stolen from his grasp he moved through the panicking crowd, searching for a way out, to regroup and rethink. Perhaps there was another way, a way to get a second chance. As quickly as the thought of a second attempt entered his mind, it retreated against the facts. This was it. This day had been his only opportunity. Whatever frail attempt he made today would be the only chance he got to show the U.S. president what it meant to suffer. This was his only day in court. He had to make today count.

***

Scanningthethrongofpeople,MikecaughtaglimpseofFarrahmovingthroughthecrowdoffrightenedcivilians.Soldiersandpolicerushed tosecuretheareaandmedicalpersonnelhurried toaidtheinjuredandperhapssavethedying.ThroughthemaddeningherdMike caught a glimpse ofMarcushard on Farrah’s trail. Hecaughthisattention with a wave and thetwomovedin concert to flank their target.

***

Lonnie, watchedfromthesecond-floorobservationwindowastheydrewclosertoFarrah.  Farrah shot a look back and sawthemenpursuinghim. He quickened his pace,rudely shovingpeopleaside, a mistake that would work in their favor she thought as that would draw attention to him.A young couple stepped out from behind the corner of a building directly into his path.He rammed into them violently knocking the pair to the pavement. He bolted over them amidst shouts and curses from the crowd and kept going. Ontheothersideofthepark,Lonniecaughtaglimpseofthickblackhair,bouncingas the figure moved quicklyagainstthecrowd.Kharzaisteadilyapproachedfrombehindthem, his face a stone-cold mask without a trace of his formerflirtatious grin. He looked ready to kill.Shepulled out her cell phone, grunting in dismay as it beeped a warning that there was no signal. She switched the phone to the two-way radio setting that matched Marcus’s phone but got nothing but a high pitched screech from the speaker.She looked up to see her husband closing in on Farrah, but Kharzai was closing in on him with murder in his eyes.

Lonnieboltedfromtheroom.Notwaitingfortheelevator,shehustleddownthestairs, ignoring the pain in her lower back, the baby jostling heavily in her belly with each step. At the bottom of the first flight of stairs she flashed a look out the stairwellwindow. Panic fluttered in here chest as she saw Kharzai crossthestreet, makingabeelinefrom10thAvenue.Lonniepushed her body harder, trying to glimpseherhusbandorMikeandHildeand somehowletthemknowwhatwascoming, to warn them of