Davis nodded in silent agreement. At length, Carmichael added: “Close all airspace nationwide. Any aircraft in flight are to land at the nearest available airport. That includes all airborne vehicles. Effective immediately.”
“Right away, sir.”
“I want nothing in the sky except our own units. Second, contact the Press Secretary and have him outline a dialogue that the senator’s plane went down, that authorities are currently looking into the cause. I want him to tell the nation that this is simply a precautionary measure until we get to the bottom of what’s going on. But before he speaks, I want to personally look over the verbiage to make sure it hits all the marks with nothing extraneous. I do not want to cause a nationwide panic due to mismanaged or misconstrued content originating from this office. What I do want is to brace them for what’s coming and to cushion the blow, if possible.”
“I understand, Mr. President. But do realize that the national psyche will once again become very fragile should you announce this prematurely. You run the risk of putting things in the wrong light.”
The president threw up his hands. “Prematurely? Wrong light? Seriously? Shazad has our goddamn balls in a vise, Simon! We don’t know where he is or what he plans to do next with these weapons that we can’t even begin to detect by radar. I will not…" Carmichael pounded a fist into his armrest to accent the word…"sit back and allow a nation to fly blind until they find out that we knew all along about Shazad and his actions." He paused to make eye contact with the rest of his colleagues. "Open your eyes, people! We are under attack. And right now it seems we’re impotent to do anything about it.” And it was here that he considered a single thought: How can one man with so little cause a country like the United States to collapse into chaos?
As Marine One lifted and banked with its rotors turning in blinding revolutions, the White House quickly receded from view.
“Did you contact the Director at the Bureau?” he asked.
Cayne nodded. “Jenifer's on top of that.” Although President Carmichael thought his secretary of state to be stiff and emotionless, someone who moved about with the cold fortitude of a machine, almost to the point of insensitivity, she was extremely competent in her duties. When Jenifer Rimaldi took command of a situation, there was no need to worry. Unless that situation was a cocktail party, but that was another matter.
“Good,” he said. “When we get to Raven Rock,” he added, “give notice to those within the line-of-succession after the vice president — and I’m talking about the Speaker of the House, the President pro tempore of the Senate, Jenifer, the Secretary of Treasury, all the way down to the Secretary of Labor — that they are to be placed in a secured location. If Shazad has taken down a United States senator, then who knows who else may be on his hit list.”
“You’ll be safe at Raven Rock, Mr. President. He can’t get to you if you’re underground. Even with a Hellfire.”
President Carmichael leaned forward and looked his Chief Advisor directly in the eyes while pointing ceilingward. “If you haven’t noticed, Simon, we've barely left the White House grounds. There’s a lot of space between here and Pennsylvania. I implore you, do not underestimate Shazad. And certainly do not think that just because we have fighters airborne that it’s foolproof protection. It’s not. The MQ-10 is a stealth killer that can elude the sharpest of eyes and the most agile of jets.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
Carmichael melted back into his chair. “Once we’re inside Raven Rock, I’ll feel better. Right now…” He let his words trail a moment.
“Right now, Simon… nobody is safe.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aasif al-Shazad sat back with his eyes closed, his chin to his chest and his arms crossed. It had been more than thirty-six hours since he slept. Yet even in rest mode his mind continued to work.
He had carefully outlined his plan, knowing the ‘who,’ ‘what,’ ‘where’ and the ‘how’ of all matters down to the most minute detail. The attack on the JBAB was coordinated such that all hardware could be appropriated, transported to the bunker, and set up with sufficient time for a synchronized drone strike on the senator’s plane. Up to this point everything had gone perfectly.
But now things were different. Once complacent eyes were now wide open and searching. Objectives from here on in would be much more difficult to achieve with success. Nevertheless, Shazad knew tactics, and he knew them very well.
It was his opinion that the president would be removed from the White House to a safer haven incapable of being struck down by a Hellfire missile, which left out Camp David. His projection was that President Carmichael would be lifted to Raven Rock, an underground facility where he could manage the nation through periods of instability.
He needed Carmichael alive so that he could bring one of the most powerful men in the world to his knees in front of his own people. In front of the world. He would do this with missile strikes that would cripple the nation’s consciousness, making the man who sat upon the highest political seat in the land nothing more than a powerless fool.
Carmichael’s command would falter and people would lose faith in his direction. But in the end, after Shazad had destroyed him and al-Zawahiri was freed, it would be too late. By then he would have shown the world that he had hobbled a giant and by extension the nation he ruled, through the guidance of Allah, peace be with him.
“Shazad.” It was Lut, a man of massive size with broad shoulders and thick arms, someone who frequented the gym often and had the sheer size that denoted a man of great strength.
He opened his eyes. “Yes, Lut.”
“Naji says that the drone is picking up airborne activity — military fighters.”
Shazad smiled. He expected this. “Then let’s flex our muscles further, shall we?”
Lut cocked his head, not understanding his team leader as Shazad got to his feet and stretched his arms high. “Sir?”
“It’s all right, Lut. Head back to your post. I’ll manage things from here on in. Thank you.”
The large man saluted, then left Shazad, the lieutenant commander heading towards the center console that was still being managed by Naji.
“Have you slept?” he asked him.
Naji shook his head. “I’m too keyed up.”
“Sleep. You’re no good to me, Naji, if you can’t think straight. Don’t deprive yourself.”
“I will, Shazad. I promise. But we have this.” Naji was a supreme navigator at the drone control station. On the screen, once he zoomed in, three Phantom fighters were surveying the area by flying in tiered steps.
“They’re looking for the drone,” said Naji.
Shazad placed a hand on Naji’s shoulder. “Then let’s not disappoint them,” he said.
Naji knew exactly what the man was saying. Moving the joystick forward, Naji commanded the drone to dive.
The wolf was wending its way to the sheep.
“This is Coven One to Covens Two and Three: any visuals?”
“Coven Two, that’s a negative. I’m seeing nothing but blue sky.”
“Coven Three is also negative. Suggest we move to coordinates east at vector two-five-six.”
“Copy that. Moving to vector two-five-six.”