Captive-in-Chief (35 page)

The White House was in lockdown mode. Mike Laing arrived mere minutes after President Caldwell had, as described, been kidnapped. As head of the president’s Secret Service detail, it was not something he ever wanted to hear. Chaos reigned as to what exactly happened. Mike tried to take charge but the FBI were already getting into the mix and causing even more confusion. The arrival of the Executive Assistant Director of the National Security Branch of the Counterterrorist Division was a welcome sight. She was a no nonsense type of woman and was the highest ranking FBI agent on site.

“Sarah,” said Mike greeting her at the entrance.

“What do we know?”

“To be honest, I need everyone to take a breath so we can try and make some sense of what’s going on. There’s a lot of running and flapping around and nobody’s making any real sense about what has happened.”

“Hands in the air if you’re FBI!” she shouted as she walked into the main halls of the residence.

Half the people in the room raised their hands.

“Okay, everyone with their hand up, quietly make your way through to the East Room where we’ll assign tasks.” She looked to Mike expectantly.

“Secret Service,” he called out, “head to the State Dining Room.”

It left the two ranking officers on site standing alone in the hall with some peace to think.

“They’re saying Ramona was the driver?”

“Ramona? His secretary Ramona? The ‘don’t dare upset my president,’ Ramona?” asked Sarah.

“Yes, that Ramona.”

“There are witnesses?”

Mike nodded. He had surmised that much in his short time onsite. “Four agents and four uniformed officers.”

“All Secret Service?”

“Yes, one agent from the residence who took the message from Ramona to the president, another three agents detailed around the building who tried to stop the car, and the four uniformed officers guarding the gatehouse.”

“Okay, let’s get them in rooms and we’ll see what we get,” Sarah said, calling on a number of her best interviewers.

Thirty minutes later, Sarah and Mike were analyzing the video footage that had been taken. None of it offered a great view. For a system that could supposedly zoom into every square inch of the property, it was as though the operators had tried not to film the scene but the system couldn’t stop them catching some of it.

Both watched quietly, rewinding the footage and replaying it three times.

“Well?” asked Sarah.

“I’d say the footage supports the uniformed officers.”

“Agreed. Where are the four agents?”

“I think it’s only these three. The fourth is a separate detail and not linked to them.”

“I’d rather play it safe.”

“Fine. If you don’t mind, I’ll have a crack at them first. They’re supposed to be my guys after all.”

“No problem, although there is something very wrong here.” Sarah tapped the screen. “You’ll be escorted by some of my guys.”

“Of course.”

Before Mike had a chance to move, the door burst open. The director of the Secret Service entered, flanked by four burly agents.

“Is that the footage?”

Mike nodded.

“I’m taking control of this investigation, you’re both dismissed.”

“But—”

“But nothing. You’re responsible for the president’s security and he’s been kidnapped, so you’re not leading this case. You weren’t on duty, so not a suspect at present. I want you home on leave until I tell you otherwise.”

“You know, ultimately you’re responsible for his security,” said Sarah.

“You’re off the case too. Please take your staff and leave the premises. You’re contaminating my crime scene.”

“You’re not my boss.”

He pulled out his cell and dialed a number, throwing it to Sarah.

“Hello?” a voice said while it was travelling through mid-air.

The attorney general was on the other end of the call when it reached her.

“Sir,” said Sarah.

“I take it Andrew made this call?” he asked, referring to the director of the Secret Service.

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re off the case. Leave it to Andrew. There are things in play that you’re not aware of. Stand your team down and leave Andrew to get the president back safely.”

***

“This is bullshit!” Mike said, exiting the building in a fury.

“What if it is?” Sarah asked. “What can you do?”

“No idea, certainly not sit at home waiting for news on the TV!”

“The TV hasn’t reported the kidnapping.”

“You’re kidding, right? There’re about a hundred vehicles camped on the lawn with lights blazing!”

“Nope, not a word. As Shakespeare said,
‘Something is rotten in the state of Denmark’.”

“Do you want to help me find the stench?”

“There’s no chance in hell I’d sleep tonight. Where to?”

Mike shrugged. “No idea.”

A thunder of feet crashed towards the door. Eric reached for his gun as a rap on the door was followed by his title being called. He recognized the voice and relaxed. It was the attorney general.

“Mr. Vice President!” He knocked again, impatiently.

He had interrupted Eric, Val, and Maria enjoying a quiet drink in front of the log fire in his room.

“Yes?” He opened the door slightly.

“I must speak with you urgently.”

Eric stepped out of the room. There were another ten men with the AG, two other cabinet members, security, and a man he didn’t recognize and who from his age was most definitely not security.

“Do you have the first lady with you?”

Eric nodded.

“We have a situation,” whispered the AG, explaining the detail of Clay’s disappearance along with the children. Eric listened intently. He realized something was wrong when he had received the call from Clay but nothing like that was mentioned.

“Okay, I understand, I’ll break it to her gently. Do we have any idea where they are?”

“No, Mr. Vice President, no idea.”

“You’ll keep me informed throughout the night?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, well, thanks.” Eric turned towards the door.

“No, Sir, you don’t understand. We don’t know where the president is!”

“I fully understand. I’m about to break the news to his wife that he is missing along with her beloved children. Is there any part of that I’ve failed to grasp?”

The defense secretary pushed past his polite colleague. “Only the most crucial part. We don’t have anyone in charge of the country. We need to swear you in.”

“Gentlemen, would it be okay if I break the news first?”

The AG nodded, although the secretary disagreed. “No, I’m sorry. Every minute without a leader is a minute too long. It won’t take more than a few seconds, Sir, and I for one will feel a lot more relaxed.”

“While your president is missing?” asked Eric.

The secretary ignored him and waved the man Eric hadn’t recognized forward.

“We pack a judge these days?” joked Eric.

Only the judge found it in the least amusing. Two minutes later, with an extra contingent of Secret Service protecting his room, President Eric Warner, the youngest president in US history, barely a few days over the 35-year-old legal minimum, broke the news to the first lady, his Aunt Val, that her husband and children were missing. She was, as expected, inconsolable.

With Alex due to meet them near the airbase, Daryl pulled to a stop. The car was fully loaded, with Amy once again riding in the trunk, this time mainly due to a complete lack of space. Daryl was driving with Clay in the front, and Clara was in the back with Tess and Joe, Sandy on Joe’s lap. If the police pulled them over, there was going to be some serious explaining to do, and that was before they found the tied and gagged young woman in the trunk.

Meeting Alex DeMarco again had been another tearful reunion, more so for Alex, who was particularly pleased to see his old Master Sergeant, having lost touch when Joe had been discharged. They were convinced he was dead.

“Are you sure this will work?” asked Joe,

“I damn well hope so.”

“Is it this exit?” asked Daryl as they neared a turnoff.

“How would I know? I’ve only ever been flown here,” replied Clay.

Daryl slowed and checked his phone.

“Yep, that’s it, it says Andrews North gate,” said Tess, reading the sign ahead.

Jack and Ramona had jumped in beside Alex in his vehicle, freeing up some space in the car. Alex was right behind them, almost too close but it was understandable, he may not have had time for the president personally yet he fully respected his position and the honor he had in protecting the office, if not the man.

“So this is where it gets tricky,” said Clay, cracking his fingers in readiness for what lay ahead. “Go slow.” They approached the guard house. “Remember for this to work—”

“Yep, we have to take them all with us,” Daryl said.

“Sergeant!” said Clay when the staff sergeant at the gate leaned in to talk to Daryl.

The man almost decapitated himself and barely missed the frame of Daryl’s window as he snapped to attention.

“At ease, Sergeant! Are you alone?”

“No, Sir, I’ve got three airmen with me Mr—”

“Please don’t say my name.”

“Yes, Mr…err sorry, Sir.”

“Sergeant, call in to them that you’re going to accompany us to the main building. Do not say why, or who I am, I’ll explain everything as we drive.”

Military men followed orders without question. Thankfully, the staff sergeant was a good military man.

An airman approached to question the strange situation.

“Get back to your post, airman!” the sergeant screamed. “Stand firm and do your duty until I return.”

“Or the end of your shift, tell him,” said Clay.

“Or shift end!”

The staff sergeant climbed in to the car with them and directed them towards the main building.

“Stop here,” Clay instructed as they approached the first main hangar. “Sergeant, we’re undertaking an exercise. We need to get me and my children out of Washington undetected. It’s been suggested by some that because of who I am, our fine military will be unable to keep their mouths shut and alert those trying to foil our attempt.”

“I did notice a huge amount of activity near the VIP section, Mr…Sir. You can rely on the US Air Force to deliver whatever our Commander-in-Chief requires.”

“Excellent. I knew we’d show the civvies how it’s done. Okay, we need two low level pilots, preferably recent graduates, to fly one of them,” he said indicating to the runway apron.

The sergeant nodded. “Sir, I like your thinking. We might just pull this off!”

“Do you know any?”

He nodded. “The officers’ housing is second on the left.”

Daryl followed the sergeant’s directions, and ten minutes later two young pilots were being delivered to the hangar by Alex, both looking exceedingly nervous at the prospect of flying their president. So far, it had gone perfectly to plan. Nobody, bar the three men they had contained with them, was aware the president was on the base. The VIP section where they were anticipating the president’s arrival was far away on the other side of the base shining like a ballpark under the millions of watts of floodlights that they had illuminating the president’s 747s.

The hangar they pulled into was in total darkness, as was the apron. Joe signaled for them all to kill their lights as they approached despite being over a mile from the VIP area.

“Staff Sergeant, Alex, you check the plane,” instructed Joe, remaining by the president’s side. “Ramona, you need to pull off one of your wonders. We need a request originating in Florida for this plane.”

“Pfft, easy.” She borrowed Daryl’s burner cell and made two calls. A call came to her three minutes later. “Done,” she said, handing the phone back to Daryl.

“Let’s go, Mr. President,” said Joe, receiving the thumbs up from Alex.

They made it ten yards from the car, and only a few feet from the steps to the plane when a voice halted them in their tracks.

“Stop! Do not move a muscle!” The voice was commanding, authoritative, and confident. Joe looked at Alex, who had a higher viewpoint from the door of the plane. He shook his head; he couldn’t see where the voice was coming from. They were in almost total darkness.

“Step away from the president!”

Joe stepped between himself and whoever was giving the orders.

“I said step away!”

“No,” Joe said firmly. He was ready to spin and shoot. He reckoned he’d at least get one shot before they managed to get to Clay.

Joe whistled a tone he seldom used. Sandy growled in the darkness menacingly from next to the children where she had been getting spoiled. She wasn’t trained to attack, she only growled, it was a bit of a party trick.

“Dad? What’s happening?” asked Jack as the tension built.

“Mr. President, please step away, I need to know you’re safe.”

Clay turned to the voice. “Mike? Is that you?”

“Are you okay, Mr. President?”

“These are my friends, I’m in no danger!”

Mike stepped out of the shadows of the hangar and revealed himself. Sarah stepped out behind him, an assault rifle with a night vision scope attached.

Joe signaled for Alex to join him on the tarmac. He had an inkling of what the president was about to ask.

“I need you to hand your weapons to Joe and Alex here,” Clay instructed.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I can’t do that. What if they’re controlling you?” Mike said somewhat ironically, although he didn’t know it.

“As you have obviously concluded, I’m getting on this plane to go and save my wife. I’m doing that with or without you. These men I trust with mine and my family’s life. One of them I only met an hour ago. I’ve known you for years and I cannot make that same statement at the moment. I’d like to, although without you handing the men I trust your weapons, you are staying here and I am leaving.”

Clay nodded, and Joe pulled his pistol, as did Alex, aiming them at Mike and Sarah.

“Leaving you here alive isn’t an option, I’m afraid,” Clay said. “You on board with your weapons is also not an option.”

“Mr. President, I’m devastated that you do not trust me with your life. It is my sworn duty.” Mike dropped his weapon, as did Sarah.

“Simply by that action you have regained some of my trust. Once you hear what has been happening, you may understand why we’re where we are,” Clay said, indicating for them to board.

“Sorry, your cells?” said Joe. They both handed them over and watched in horror as Joe threw them to the ground and crushed them under his foot. Alex bent down and removed the sim cards and batteries. He had watched too many detective mysteries not to make sure the phones were dead.

“Now can we get the hell out of here?” Clay barked.

“Dad?”

“Not now, Jack,” Clay said as he ushered his son up the steps, Sandy leading the way for her new best friend Jack.

“But, Dad, what—”

“Not now, Jack!”

“Uncle Joe?”

“What, Jack?” Joe replied as he watched one of the pilots begin to retract the self-contained steps.

“What about the lady in the trunk?”

Joe bounded down the partially retracted steps and pulled Amy out of the trunk, fireman lifting her into the plane and depositing her in a seat at the back.

Mike and Sarah looked on with some bemusement at the bound and gagged woman who had been in the trunk of a car the president had been in.

As the door closed and the engines came to life, Clay approached Mike and Sarah, who were sitting a few seats from the front. Joe was by his side. Alex was by Joe’s.

“Okay, first things first, how did you know where I’d be?”

“I remembered a couple of times when we landed here you looked across and commented how great it would be to have plain gray aircraft. No fanfare on landing, you could simply step off and get on with work. I even remember you went to the trouble of looking them up on google. KC-46 tankers, Boeing 767 based tanker newly delivered. 114 seats, so plenty of room you found.”

“And you’re here why?” he asked Sarah.

“The director of the Secret Service kicked me off your kidnapping case. I called bullshit and Mike and I teamed up.”

Clay looked at Joe. He shrugged. He’d never met the two of them before. It was Clay’s call.

“Okay, let’s see how we go. Next stop Florida!”