Vice President Hellerman stood staring at the maps. Jock Evans tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a phone.
The operations center was a humming machine of activity. At least thirty staffers were manning phones, fax machines, and computers. They updated slides and moved markers on maps. There was a high level of noise that accompanied the activity, allowing Hellerman to take this phone call directly in the middle of the command center.
Bandit’s voice was firm. “Rawlings, I’ve got the pictures and hard drive. Miss Morris will not be joining us. It appears she had a falling out with a lover. Out.”
The vice president flipped the phone shut and pursed his lips. A huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The pictures and his hard drive were on their way back to him, Meredith was no longer an issue, and now he might have Ballantine flying to his airfield to deliver the tape. Pretty ballsy move, Hellerman thought, but things are way out of control. The question was, should he just order the Air Force to shoot down the Sherpa and destroy everything that could implicate him? That was probably a good idea, he surmised.
“Zeke, get me the secretary of defense up on VTC,” he said, turning toward the video teleconferencing camera next to the operations map.
“Roger, sir. He’s up,” Jeremiah said, pointing at the screen.
“Secretary Stone, can you hear me?” Hellerman said into the camera, looking at the screen that was projecting the secretary of defense and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
“Yes, Mr. Vice President, go ahead.”
“The president is monitoring from his quarters right now, and I have control. I am going to take control of the F-15s coming out of Langley. Are they ready to go?”
Hellerman watched as Stone traded curious looks with Shepanski, then turned back to the camera.
“Mr. Vice President, right now Langley has launched a flight of two F-15 Eagles with a mission of finding the Sherpa airplane in which we believe Ballantine is traveling. Their communications are with Colonel Jack Rampert, the special operations commander. He is controlling the operation.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone, let me say this a different way. That Sherpa is bearing down on my location. I will best be able to direct the F-15s, not Jack Rampert hovering over Chesapeake Bay. So switch command of the aircraft to me immediately. Do you understand that this is an order and not a request?”
After another exchange of looks with Shepanski, Stone turned to the vice president and said, “Yes, sir. The F-15s are on UHF frequency two-zero-five-two. Call signs are Eagle six and Eagle five. They are armed with four AIM-120 missiles and 20mm machine guns. They are under your operational control.”
Hellerman clicked the remote, muting their conversation, and turned to Jeremiah. “Get me Eagle six and five up on the UHF net.”
Within a minute, Jeremiah gave the radio handset to Hellerman, saying, “Here you go, sir.”
“Eagle six, this is the vice president. Over.”
“Vice President, this is Eagle six. We are a flight of two F-15s currently on afterburners moving to locate a Sherpa with new instructions to observe and monitor.”
Hellerman looked at Jeremiah, who shrugged his shoulders.
“Your instructions are to destroy the Sherpa,” the vice president said into the radio handset.
“Negative. Prior to being moved to your control, we were told friendlies are on board the Sherpa. We are in monitor mode.”
Hellerman looked at Jeremiah again and said, “Call Rampert and find out what the hell is going on, what kind of games he’s playing.”
“This is Eagle six. Also, was told that a nuclear bomb is on board the aircraft, and we are to avoid firing at all costs.”
“Eagle six, you are under my operational control, and you will take all orders from me. Do you understand?”
“This is Eagle six. Roger. I understand that I will follow all lawful orders you give me.”
Smart ass, Hellerman thought to himself.
“What have you got from Rampert?” Hellerman asked Zeke.
“Sir, can’t reach Rampert, but Oceana radar control said he talked to one of the people on board, and the rumor is, get this, Matt Garrett is on board.”
The noise level in the operations center quickly wound down, and muted television monitors flashed off the dumbfounded faces of the operations crew.
“I say again, Matt Garrett might be on board the Sherpa.”
Hellerman looked stunned. He had assumed Matt and Zachary Garrett had both perished. The news that the pictures had been retrieved and that Meredith had been killed was welcome. His only concern now was the tape, the last remaining shred of evidence that could be used against him.
Ballantine had played the tape for him one day over the phone and then had sent him a copy during the early months of Desert Shield. He remembered listening to it and recoiling at the sound of his voice, so very clear and convincing, talking with May Sandford, the U.S. ambassador to Iraq at the time. It was clear evidence of conspiracy thirteen years ago. It would only circumstantially contribute to a case made regarding today’s activities. He doubted, until now, that there was anyone who could implicate him in any foul play.
But now he had Matt Garrett out there, the man that Ballantine should have killed several days ago. That was the deal, to get Matt Garrett up to Lake Moncrief so that Ballantine could kill him. In trade, Ballantine would provide Hellerman the original tape. It seemed like good sport, and Hellerman benefited from Ballantine’s organization of attacks on the country.
“Sir, did you hear that?” Jeremiah’s voice slowly brought Hellerman back to reality.
“Yes, Zeke, I heard. Matt Garrett is on board. That’s… that’s great news.”
“If it’s true,” Jeremiah said with raised eyebrows.
Hellerman paused, then said, “Yes, if it’s true. What authentication did Oceana get?”
“None that I’m aware of, sir.”
“Alternate command, this is Eagle six. Over.”
“Eagle six, this is alternate command,” Jeremiah replied.
“Roger. We’ve got this Sherpa on our radar, and it has banked hard to the west, following along just south of Interstate 66.”
“Roger. This is the vice president. Your orders are to destroy the Sherpa once it gets west of Warrenton.”
“Sir, this is Eagle six. Pardon me for asking, but why do you want me to destroy this aircraft with possible friendlies on it?”
Hellerman recoiled at the insubordination. “Eagle six, you are now relieved of command. Your orders are to return to base. Eagle five, you are now in command, do you understand?”
The pilot for Eagle five replied weakly, “Roger… roger, sir.”
“Eagle five, this is the vice president. If Eagle six is not out of your airspace in one minute, your instructions are to engage and destroy him.”
“Roger.”
“This is Eagle six. Roger. I monitored, have copied this conversation on cockpit recorder, and am breaking station. Eagle six out.”
“Eagle five, this is the vice president. Did you copy my last order to Eagle six regarding destroying the Sherpa once it has crossed west of Warrenton?”
“This is Eagle five. Roger.”
Hellerman dropped his hand to his side, still holding the handset, and realized for the first time that the entire command center was listening to his conversation and had heard his orders.