Ken grimaced in pain as he pulled a clip from his vest and snapped it into place in the MP5. He turned to his left and saw Jake fall out of the helicopter. The driver of the limo ran around the door and was taking aim at Jake. Ken released the bolt on the MP5 and swung it across toward the driver, pulling the trigger.
Jake rotated toward the front of the limo in time to see the driver go down from Ken’s shots. He quickly surveyed the battle scene. Ken was lying in the runway holding his MP5. Stafford was lying on the ground, moving, trying to get up. Bright red blood ran down from his left shoulder. Honi was getting up with her left hand held tight against her chest. He didn’t see any blood and breathed a sigh of relief. He ran to check on Stafford. Two bullets were embedded in torn places of his vest. He rolled Stafford up into a sitting position and checked the back of his shoulder. The bullet had passed through about an inch in from the edge of his arm and exited the back side. He would recover.
Honi stood, pain etched in her face. Jake ran over to her.
“You okay?”
“I’m good.”
The pilot and copilot of the Black Hawk jumped from their open doors. The copilot carried a first aid kit over to Stafford and started work on him. Jake ran out into the runway and checked on Ken.
“You hit?” Jake asked.
Ken shook his head. “I’m afraid my knee has gone caddiwompus on me.” Ken pointed down the runway. “The jet.”
Jake looked, shading his eyes with his hand. Steinmetz’ jet was at the other end of the runway, a mile away. Jake could see black smoke and flames.
“I’m okay, how’s Stafford and Honi?” Ken asked.
“Stafford’s hit, not serious. Honi’s okay.”
Ken nodded. “Go get that sonovabitch!”
Jake looked around at what was available. The Black Hawk was a wreck. The armored limo was beaten up and the front end was crumpled. He rushed over and slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door. The engine wasn’t running. He turned the key off and back on again to see if the engine would start. It did. He put the car in reverse and gave it some gas. The limo slid away from the helicopter.
Honi slammed the back passenger door and climbed in, closing the door behind her.
“Go!” she shouted.
Jake backed up enough to clear Ken, whipped the wheel and roared down the runway toward Steinmetz.
Peter Steinmetz picked himself up off the floor of the cabin of his jet plane. He hadn’t put the seatbelt on for takeoff. He stumbled back in the aisle to a drawer on the left side, pulled it open and snatched a .45 automatic pistol from its holder. He wracked the slide back and released it, loading a round into the chamber. Smoke was quickly filling the cabin, burning his eyes. He ducked down to avoid the layer of black fumes as it spread across the ceiling. He released the cabin door and pushed. It didn’t move. He stepped back and kicked the door. It opened about an inch. He shouldered the door open the rest of the way and flipped the stairs down into position. As he moved slowly down the steps he saw his limo pull to a stop in front of him.
“Good,” he said. “They’ve come to rescue me.”
Jake and Honi stepped out of the limo and pointed their weapons at Steinmetz.
“Drop the gun,” Jake shouted.
Steinmetz raised his .45 and fired. Jake ducked as Honi fired back, striking Steinmetz in the right arm, the .45 falling to the grass. The General turned and ran.
“Really?” Jake shouted. He put his sidearm back into its holster and took off after Steinmetz. The pursuit took them toward a stand of trees. Jake tackled Steinmetz just before he reached the end of the grass. Steinmetz yelled in pain as he plowed face first into the ground. Jake slapped the handcuffs on the General’s wrists and rolled him over to examine the wound.
“You’ll live.”
He helped Steinmetz up and slowly walked him back to the damaged limo. Honi emerged from the burning plane, with her gun pointed at the pilot and copilot while she carried the General’s briefcase and computer.
“Look what I found.” She held up the computer. “Now we can find all of his friends in the Phoenix Organization.”
Jake and Honi wandered between Stafford and Ken in the emergency room of the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. Ken’s right knee cap had shattered and was now replaced with an artificial one. He was coming out of the anesthesia.
They walked across the aisle to check on Stafford. A nurse was trying to give him some pain medication.
“I don’t need that crap,” he said. “Get away from me.”
“You just came out of surgery,” she said. “The local anesthesia they used is going to wear off in a few minutes. Trust me, you’re going to need this.” He looked away and grumbled.
Jake got a call from General Davies. He listened, thanked him and disconnected. “All of the underground shelters have been secured by the army. Mercenaries were guarding the shelters. Some of them surrendered, and the rest were killed by the army.”
“Now, two soldiers in civilian clothes are waving people into each of the shelters. Once inside, soldiers are taking them into custody.”
Honi felt her phone buzz. She studied the text and smiled. “Secretary Halleran has been arrested at the underground shelter in West Virginia, along with the President’s Chief of Staff.”
“What about General Teague and Secretary Cooper?” Jake asked.
“Still nothing,” Honi replied.
“They didn’t show up at any of the shelters?”
“No. They didn’t.”
Jake paced back and forth in the aisle. “What about Teague’s place across the state line into Oklahoma?”
“We searched that days ago,” Stafford replied.
“Which would fit in with the way Teague does things — go where we’ve been, not where we’re going.”
Stafford grabbed his phone and dialed. “General Davies, it’s Major Stafford. I recommend you send a team to General Teague’s place in Oklahoma. See if anybody is hiding there.” He looked at Jake and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
At six-twenty-two Stafford’s phone rang. It was General Davies. Stafford listened and disconnected. “Teague and Cooper are in custody.”
Jake and Honi strolled outside into the warm moist air.
“It’s a bit strange,” he said. “Here we are, teamed up with Stafford and Ken. Both talented professionals, just as you are. It just dawned on me. The partners I lost before? I felt like I had to protect them, because they couldn’t keep up, you know? They weren’t strongly aggressive like the four of us are. I worry less about you, or Stafford or Ken because I know each of you can hold your own, under any circumstances. We’re all focused on the task at hand. In a way, I regret having this investigation come to an end. It means the four of us will have to go back to doing all of the ordinary things we did before. I’m going to miss the four of us functioning as a team.”
“I’m going to miss that too,” she said. “Being here…” She glanced back at the building where Stafford and Ken were recovering. “I don’t know, it’s all just kind of special, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah. It is special.”
Jake, Honi, Stafford and Ken were picked up in General Davies limo and delivered to the White House at 10:00 that evening. A Secret Service agent escorted them to the Oval Office. Ken hobbled along with a stiff brace on his right leg and the assistance of a cane. Stafford had his left arm in a sling.