“Slow up, Ray. Why would we do something as insane as that?”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Parnes, Tyler, Kronos, and the major walked down the corridor as the dead and wounded were carried out of the main entry area. A communications trooper approached Hiccock with a com-sat phone. Hiccock shook the phone. The line would not engage.
“Is there another way that you can connect me to the White House? This isn’t working.”
“Please send my regards to Ray Reynolds,” Parnes said casually.
“You know the chief of staff?” Hiccock’s sixth sense started tingling.
“I know you are going to be amazed when you see what we have achieved with ALISON.”
The childlike enthusiasm of Parnes’s delivery stopped Hiccock, and he spun him around. “Goddamn you! What part of mass murder, treason, and terrorism don’t you understand, Parnes?”
“Again, I emphatically state, I do not know anything about that. However, I am sure your people will discover neither this place nor anybody working here to be responsible for any of your alleged accusations.”
The president leaned across a small desk as he proceeded to interrogate Reynolds. “This is unbelievable. Go on.”
“Sir, the rest you may not want to know.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to know?”
“What you don’t know can’t hurt you in congressional inquiries, possible impeachment, or even criminal charges …”
“Ray, I appreciate your loyalty to me. I know that your heart is in the politically expedient place, even though your head is up your ass right now.”
Reluctantly Reynolds continued recounting a story that would be retold in history books from this point forward. “Well, after this Parnes fellow came to us during the campaign, we assured him that, if we got in, he’d get a major government contract to replace the work he had been doing for Defense.”
“So we are dirty in this all the way?”
“In reality, no. But we sent Parnes to Agriculture so, in appearance, yes.”
The president sat back. He suddenly punched down on the chair’s arm, splintering a $250,000 antique.
A radioman, spooling out wire from an old World War II vintage field phone, caught up to Hiccock as he, Parnes, and the major made their way down the corridor. “Ultra traffic, Sir. Scrambled from the White House.”
Hiccock grabbed the handset. “Yes, Mr. President?”
“Bill, are you okay?”
“Yes, but we have lost some brave MPs, Sir.”
“How badly has your operational ability been damaged?”
“Still have my three team members, Sir.”
“What about your detachment?”
“The major tells me ten dead, ten wounded, and twenty remain from his platoon, Sir.”
On the other end of the phone, Ray sat across from the president. Having put all the cards on the table and his butt on the line, he now watched, trying to discern which way his boss would go. He couldn’t read anything from the president’s implacable face, even though he spent years with this man and probably knew him better than anyone else in government. Mitchell could let the renegade Air Cav boys clean up this mess, extinguish Hiccock, Parnes, and everyone involved — and along with them any connection to the administration. Reynolds would not have considered this murder. He reasoned it was passive compliance with events already initiated outside his purview, mentally rehearsing for the congressional hearings. Since thousands of people had already died in scores of terrorist attacks, what was a handful more, especially if it meant ensuring this administration another term? All Mitchell had to do was instruct Hiccock that the Air Cav troop was coming to help, not to kill them.
“Bill, in a few minutes a heavily armed attack force of Apache helicopters will be on top of you.”
“Great, Sir, we’ll need the support.”
Reynolds imperceptibly tensed. The president gave him one last look. “Bill, we didn’t send them. They are on an attack mission.” Reynolds sighed. As in so many other instances, the president had just made a decision that was now the policy of the United States of America. With Mitchell electing to put personal jeopardy aside for the both of them, Reynolds was duty bound to embrace it.
Hiccock’s voice cut through the heavy mood. “Don’t want to tell you your job, but may I respectfully request that you consider calling them the fuck off, Sir?”
“They are not responding to any retreat orders.”
“Well, get somebody you can order over here to protect us. We are within minutes of shutting down the entire operation and ending this nightmare.”
“Unfortunately, these would have been the guys, Bill. No one else is close. As impossible and unfair as it seems, you and your men will have to hold them off ’til reinforcements arrive.”
“Yes, Sir, I understand. I don’t know how, but we’ll think of something.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The major, Gold, Mack, Parnes, Hiccock, Tyler, and Kronos were all hunched over a layout of the mountain.
“What about the airborne troops that were coming in a few minutes?” Gold asked.
“I lied,” the major said. “They’re eight hours away.”
“That’s great! Well, the battle scenario is simple because the only way in or out is through the main door that your men disabled. Wide open, unfortunately. My sixteen men and your twenty should be able to hold them off at a choke point right here.” Gold indicated a place on the layout.
“My twelve guys are ready,” Mack said.
The major looked up and smiled. “You’ve done your share, Sir.”
“You know, retirement ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. What can we expect them to throw at us?”
“Air Cav Black Hawks in support. Probably 150 to 200, company strength.”
“And they’ll be loaded for bear,” Gold said. “But we’ve only got to hold them off for eight hours.”
“There is also the chance that not all of the men have been programmed. We might be able to reason with the men who haven’t,” Tyler said.
“With all due respect, Ma’am, those boys are trained. They will follow their commanding officer into hell. They won’t be coming here to talk.” Gold tapped the layout. “I figure we put machine guns here … and here … and here.”
As the two military commanders planned, Hiccock took Mack aside. “Is this going to work?”
“You want the truth?”
“I think I do.”
“Slim chance that these men down here can hold off a full-strength infantry company with attack helicopters for eight minutes, much less eight hours.”
The news caused Hiccock to run through some out-of-the-box models in his head. “What if, instead of trying to fight them, we were to deny them access?”
Mack smiled. He liked the idea.
“You are going to what?” the president said. He and the CJCS were listening on the president’s auxiliary communications console while Hiccock outlined his plan.
“My UDT guys say they can do it, Sir. The facility has enough food and water for three days. By then, you can have somebody dig us out. I hope.”
“What UDT guys?”
“We got a little help from the Navy here, Sir.”
“Only you could rustle up underwater demolition men in the middle of the desert, Bill.” The president faced the chairman. “Well, what do you think of their plan?”