Ameristocracy (11 page)

Angel turns to see the attacker, who is none other than Frederick Phelps. She fires off a few shots, peppering the trees behind him, but he swiftly takes cover.

He then rushes toward
s where
Marine
One
which is idling nearby. He yells out to a scar-faced gunman that is in the pilot’s seat. “Let’s go!”

But
as he surges forward towards the craft, Angel comes running out of the tree line.

Gunfire erupts all around her.
She’s got
no way to escape.
But still
she rushes toward
Frederick
, firing.

The scar-faced gunman jumps out of the chopper and
comes
racing up behind
Frederick
. He and Angel squeeze their triggers at the same time!

Blam
!
Blam
!
Two bullets fly through the air as Frederick hits the dirt.

The bullets cross paths right over his head. One tears through the scar-faced gunman’s chest as the other rips through Angel’s midsection. Both fall to the ground in pools of blood.

Frederick rises to his feet, brushes himself off, grinning smugly. It seems like he can get through anything.
But then
…
Bam!
A rifle butt smashes into the back of his head. He crumples to the ground, motionless. Maggie glares down at him before quickly taking cover.

Back inside the presidential cabin, Jack, Charles and Wilcox lead Hawkins and Lombard toward the door. When Jack hears gunshots, he stops for a second, but Charles nudges him and he focuses again.

“We’ve
gotta
find the bomb and…” speaks Jack.

Lombard shakes his head. “No.
There’s
C-4 everywhere in this compound.
They’ve
got the whole place wired. If one bomb goes, the others follow. No way
we could
get to all of them.”

“This isn’t a rescue mission anymore, gentlemen,” says Wilcox. “It’s an escape. Provide cover, and I’ll lead the president to Marine One.”

The others nod, so Wilcox and Lombard take a position by the door. Lombard stops abruptly, gazing at Jack. “One second... I recognize you.”

Jack grimly nods.
“Probably got a security briefing with my picture on it.”

Lombard shakes his head. “No, I met you in the White House.”

Jack almost actually grins for a second, impressed by Lombard’s memory. “Yes, sir, you did.”

Lombard then remembers the actual encounter. “You warned me about this.”

Jack nods. “Wish I’d listened,” says Lombard.
“Nothing personal, of course.
In my position you never know who to trust.”
And
with that,
Lombard
makes a quick exit with Wilcox, hurrying toward the chopper.

Jack’s expression glazes over as he withdraws into his own thoughts. “Never know who to trust,” he mutters to himself. He produces Spencer’s photo. Stares intently at Wilcox’s face surrounded by his father’s blood. “Never know who to trust,” he repeats, thinking.

Charles gives him
a
inquisitive look and Jack groans in disgust. “It wasn’t just advice. It was a warning!” Jack flies out the door in a flash.

As Wilcox and Lombard approach Marine
One
, Maggie emerges from cover. “I’ll provide cover!”

Wilcox nods as he hurries to the chopper. They are more than halfway there when Jack yells out.

“Wilcox, stop!” Jack catches up to them, gun drawn.

Wilcox freezes at the entrance of the chopper. He takes a defensive position, putting a gun to the president’s head!
“Well, lad.
Looks like you would have made a decent detective after all. I almost regret not recruiting you like your father.”

“He trusted you,” spits Jack, angry.

“He didn’t know what he was getting into, and neither do you. We own this country, kid. And you’d be smart to stay out of our affairs.”

Peter Phelps leans out of Marine
One
, nervously fingering a detonator. “Get your ass in here, Wilcox! You know I can’t fly this thing.”

Wilcox takes advantage of the temporary distraction. He flings Lombard to the ground. He then takes a hasty shot at Maggie, hitting her in the side. Wilcox climbs in and positions himself in the pilot’s seat.

Crack! Crack! Bullets hit the chopper as the rotors spin. The two look through the windshield at Charles and Hawkins and Lombard rushing toward them.

“Take off... Now!” yells Phelps.

On the ground, Maggie lies
bleeding
. Jack scurries over to her, cradles her head in his hands. “Maggie.” He clutches her tight.
Lovingly.
Presses his face against hers in a kiss.
But
Maggie breaks away long enough to tell him: “Get Wilcox!”

Jack knows she
means business
, so he peels away and jumps back into action.

The door to Marine
One
flies open and Hawkins reaches in, grabbing Phelps by the collar and throwing him out.

Jack dives past them, attacking Wilcox. He hits him with the butt of his gun one, two, three, four times. Wilcox’s face goes bloody and he slumps against the side window.
Looks lifeless.

“Go on, play possum,” says Jack. “See if I care.” He punches Wilcox again.

Behind them, Charles ushers Lombard into the back of the chopper.

By the trees, Hawkins and Phelps wrestle, their bodies slamming to the ground. “Give it up, Hawkins!”

Hawkins rolls Phelps over, slams his face into the dirt. “What the hell are you doing this for? We were friends!”

“Should’ve been me,” yells Phelps.

“What?”

“That pompous ass gets the big chair and all I got was your pity, your offer to stay on in the same lousy job I’ve had for four years.”

Hawkins
can’t
believe it. Shakes his head,
then
remembers more details. “Why’d you have Donald William killed?”

No answer.
Hawkins slams Phelps’s nose against the ground. “Why?”

“He was
gonna
blow the whistle on the entire organization,” answers Phelps. “But when your boy started nosing around, going to see him at home, it gave us the perfect patsy.”

Hawkins is ready to slam Phelps’s face again when Phelps surprises him by lifting up quickly, the back of his head slamming into Hawkins’s nose. Hawkins falls backwards, blood pouring from his nostrils.

“Don’t you see you can’t win?” yells Phelps. “It’s already started. Kicking my ass won’t do any good.”

“Oh, I disagree. It’ll make me feel real good.”

Hawkins lunges at Phelps and unleashes a devastating array of punches.

Inside Marine
One
,
Lombard
studies the controls. “Anybody
know
how to fly this bird?”

“I flew choppers in Desert Storm,” calls out Hawkins.

Lombard turns and sees Hawkins supporting Maggie as they run toward the chopper. Phelps
is crumpled
on the ground behind them. “Then get your ass in here now!”

A moment later Phelps rustles and sees the group getting ready to take off.
He rises to his knees and moves toward the chopper.

Jack, inside the chopper, sees Hawkins climbing on board and passing Maggie off to Lombard. He stares at Maggie’s wound, and he
doesn’t
notice Wilcox opening his eyes beside him. No one does.

Suddenly, Wilcox punches Jack in the face hard, and Jack falls backwards.
But
he’s not disabled for long and he surges forward, throwing all his weight into Wilcox, the two tumbling through the open side door.

Marine One starts to float up into the air as Jack and Wilcox trade punches. Jack lands one. Wilcox lands one.
Again and again
.
An even fight.

Crack! A hard shot to Wilcox’s jaw and the man goes tumbling backwards.

“Jack!” yells Charles.

Jack turns, seeing the chopper hovering just overhead, Charles’s arm extended. He rushes over and jumps.

Charles catches him by the wrist and starts to pull him up.
But
Wilcox grabs onto Jack’s legs!

The chopper lifts into the air, with Jack hanging from the landing gear and Wilcox clutching Jack.

Down below, Frederick comes to. He finds a rifle and takes aim at the chopper where Maggie and Charles both lean out the door, trying to reach for Jack.

Bullets slam into the hull next to the door. “We’re taking fire!” yells Maggie.

Charles pulls his gun and returns fire.

Jack clings to the landing gear, weakened by his shoulder wound and burdened with weight as Wilcox climbs up his back.

Maggie reaches out, but
they’re
too far.

Jack stares up at her, losing his battle. Then, he spots something. “Maggie! Shoot for a bulls-eye!”

Maggie follows his gaze and sees some extra tranquilizer darts strapped to her arm. She takes one.

Wilcox’s face hovers just above Jack’s shoulder. The whole chopper wobbles and rotates - hardly a steady target.

On the ground, Frederick takes a shot in the chest. He goes still.

Peter Phelps inches past him, beaten and bloodied, moving slowly, the detonation device still in his hand.

But then
he runs out of steam. His hand falls slack and the detonator falls to the ground. He topples forward, right onto the detonator button!

Beep, beep, beep… It sounds three alarms and then…
Boom!

The presidential cabin explodes in a massive fireball! The main lodge explodes next, billowing up into the air, wicked orange flames licking the sky above.

All around, buildings explode.
Even the woods blow up, tree trunks and limbs flying everywhere.

The flames engulf Peter and Frederick Phelps, burning
them to a crisp
instantly... disintegrating them.

Marine One teeters over the exploding retreat, the fireballs edging up toward it as Jack and Wilcox dangle below. The chopper weaves out of control, unable to carry the dangling bodies.

Maggie leans out the door, clutching her tranquilizer dart.
Her blood loss and the overwhelming motion leaving her unsteady on her feet.
She cringes. Takes aim.
And
throws the dart just past Jack’s head and sinks it right into Wilcox’s cheek!

Wilcox lets out a pained roar. His fingers slip and he drops off Jack’s shoulders like a sack of bricks. He plummets into the flaming hell below.

“Hang on, Jack!” yells Charles. He pulls Maggie back into the safety of the chopper,
then
lunges out to reach for Jack. He struggles to lift him.

Then another hand grabs Jack’s wrist.
It’s
Lombard
’s. “We got you!”

Lombard pulls with all his might. He and Charles hoist Jack up into safety as an explosive shockwave rattles the chopper and jolts them up above the rising flames.

In the pilot’s seat, Hawkins finally gains control of the chopper and pulls back on the throttle, lifting Marine
One
up, up, up in the skies above.

The legendary retreat is completely engulfed in flames, still burning and exploding as Marine
One
flies away to safety.

Some Time Later

Maggie rests peacefully in a small hospital room. She stirs from sleep and finds Jack sitting at her side. His hand rests on her wrist. She smiles at the familiar contact. “I trust you got the word out?”

Jack beams as he produces a Washington Post with a headline screaming: Secret Society Exposed
After
Camp David Assault. “I guess you could say that. You got a pretty nice write-up in here, you know.”

Maggie playfully dismisses it with a wave of her hand. “You
wanna
drive yourself nuts with all that stuff, have at it.”

Jack laughs. “Don’t encourage me. It’s nice to be vindicated once in a while.”

There’s
a knock at the door and
Nancy
tentatively enters.
“Just stopping by to thank the woman who saved my son.”
She takes a seat and smiles at Maggie.
But
her expression betrays a heavy heart.

“How are you holding up?” asks Jack.

Nancy’s voice trembles a bit, but she keeps her composure. “Doing my best, I suppose.” She hesitates for a moment before she resumes speaking. “Did you see him, before...
”

Jack nods. “Yes.
And
he never wanted to leave. He had to disappear to protect us.”

Nancy smiles with relief as the tears start to fall.

Jack holds her hand in his. “He saved us, Mom.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” says Maggie.