Russ Snyder
Dead Water
From the Author
Dead Water is the sequel to my first published work, The President's Weapon. It continues the fight against terrorist that began with the first work.
I strongly believe in letting my readers do the talking in the promotion of my work. I never use my own words, only the readers. I never presume to compare myself to other authors. If readers want to do that, fine, but I won't.
I'd like to thank you for taking your time to check out my work. I hope you'll give it a try. Thank you. Russ Snyder
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I'd like to thank Alan Bower and Kevin Bezy from Author Solutions for all their help on this particular journey. Wherever it is that I am; I would not be here without Alan's help.
Also a tremendous shout-out to Traci Anderson of iUniverse. She showed patience, understanding, encouragement, and perhaps most of all, humor, in guiding me through the editing process. I would not have gotten through it without her.
I also must thank Margot Curtis Kinsman, Cheryl Lycans, Barbi Olson Coutts, and Bill Hawkins for all their encouragement and support while traveling this road of writing.
A huge shout-out, and thank-you, to Tracy Birdwell Sandlin for doing the photoshoot that produced my author's photograph for this book cover.
Lastly, but most important, I dedicate this work to 'Cattledog', the best friend I've ever had who I lost last November. Daff, you are always with me, in my heart and in spirit.
PROLOGUE
Rijah Ellhad strode confidently through the deep Alaskan woods. He was literally in the middle of nowhere, having parachuted into a small clearing earlier that morning, and now hiking toward his destination, a small unnamed lake chosen carefully for its remoteness. Dressed completely in hunter's camouflage, he traveled light, carrying a backpack with rations and water, a pair of high-quality binoculars, a small pouch attached to his belt, a hunting knife, and a Bushmaster AR-15 assault rifle, which featured a red-dot optical sight, a sound suppressor, and a high-intensity light mounted underneath. A foregrip accompanied the rear pistol grip. The sound suppressor was screwed onto the end of the barrel. He carried two forty-round magazines loaded alternately with fragmentation bullets and armor piercing. The gun was capable of firing either the .223- or NATO 5.56-caliber round.
He also carried a second waterproof pack affixed to the bottom of his backpack. This pack contained numerous specialty items that would be required for the completion of his mission. He paused for a quick drink of water. It was early summer, and the temperature was in the midsixties, with surprisingly few bugs. He continued his journey. It was nearing sundown when he arrived at the lake. He stopped and surveyed the area. He took out his binoculars and carefully scanned the entire shoreline. Not a sign of another person anywhere. He smiled. Smaller than I thought. He worked quickly. He removed his backpack and donned some of the gear from the smaller pack: a special hazmat pair of gloves and full head mask. He removed one more item from the pack, a small metal case. With some difficulty, he was able to unlatch the twin catches and open it. Very carefully, he removed a very small item that resembled a medical pill vial. He walked down to the lake. Carefully, he tossed it about fifteen feet out from the water's edge. He quickly turned and walked back to where he'd left the remainder of his gear. He rapidly gathered it up, strapped everything back into place, slung his AR-15 rifle back over his shoulder, and proceeded to walk back the way he had come. He'd been instructed to stay back a quarter mile from the lake. He doubled that distance to be safe. It was just getting dark when he found a spot to camp for the night, although his only camping gear consisted of a small heat-retention blanket.
He was used to sparse gear. In another life, he was a captain in the Iraqi Republican Guard, one of eight officers who made it out of Iraq before the fall of Saddam Hussein. It was a group that had sworn vengeance on America.
He'd been told to wait twelve hours before returning to the lake. He waited fourteen. Once again donning the hazmat gear, he walked down to observe. He took out a small digital camera and took half a dozen photos. He stared at the scene before him, barely believing his eyes. The fish floating on the lake were so thick he felt he could have walked across to the other side upon them. A chill went up his spine. He was prepared to see dead fish, but nothing like the scene before him. He took two more pictures and then left. He had a healthy hike ahead of him to where he would be picked up by helicopter. When he left, his chill went with him.
1
Sitting behind his desk in the Oval Office, which was brightened by the natural light coming through the three large, perfectly clear, and bullet-resistant windows at his back, newly elected president Robert Williams had secretly changed one rule in the manner America was to fight terrorism. He had added a new element, one that only a handful of people knew about. This new tactic was highly illegal but one that the president felt was necessary. He put his country's safety above all else, including the law as currently written.
A white nondescript van coming out of Mexico, through Texas, had set off radiation-detection devices at the border. These had been installed at all major border crossings between the United States and both Canada and Mexico, the result of a botched attempt to set off a dirty nuclear device in Madison Square Garden that, through no more than sheer dumb luck, had failed.
The FBI had been shadowing the van by automobile and helicopter. It was being carefully watched, with no chance of it slipping away. Several high-resolution photographs had been taken of the driver. The result indicated the driver did not fit any profile thought to resemble a potential terrorist. The van's plates had been run. Surprisingly, it turned out to be not a rental but one belonging to an established business that had been operating for more than thirty years, a used medical equipment supply house.
President Williams met with his director of the FBI, Matt Sanderson, director of the NSA, Elliott Ragar, and Charles Rockford, director of Homeland Security.
Sanderson spoke first. "Mr. President, by all accounts, this van does not appear to be a threat. I think we should have the van stopped and checked out to be sure, but I'm not particularly concerned."
"Matt, what is your take on this?" asked the president.
"I think it's hauling used x-ray equipment. Bought cheap in Mexico and brought here to be sold. We've checked this company out thoroughly, and this seems to be routine for them."
"Anyone else have any thoughts?" the president asked.
The other two men in attendance merely shook their heads.
"Keep on it," directed the president. The three men got up from their chairs and left. The president pondered a moment and then decided to make a phone call. Using a secure line, he called Captain Richard Starr, retired, the unofficial leader of his "group." Under the umbrella of the new president's Department of the Presidential Office, or DPO, this unit was assigned the task of locating, identifying, and eliminating terrorist targets the president designated. This quartet had free rein on how that was accomplished. It consisted of four members: Starr, the nuts-and-bolts leader; Sergeant Marvin Styles, USMC "Force Recon Sniper," retired; Darlene Phillips, arguably the world's best computer hacker; and J. C. Christman, a TOPGUN flight instructor. President Williams had given this party everything they might require to carry out their missions. Starr and the president had been friends most of their lives. There was an unbreakable bond of trust between the two men. It was Starr, a former marine commander, whom the president had approached when the beginning of the idea to change strategy against the terrorists had emerged in his mind. Starr had commanded Styles for a long stint while both were in the marines. Those two, over the years, had developed a trusting friendship. Styles, though never admitting it, considered Starr his best friend. The phone call connected.