He watched as Alex selected various soldiers in black balaclavas and tasked them to guard or secure various locations. The place looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. In the background there was a hot air blimp. It was tethered to a rope above a building, with a large advertisement for some local law firm.
Alex suddenly noticed Sam’s interest. He paused the game again. “Hey, you wanna play a game?”
“What?” Sam thought he misheard the kid.
“You wanna play a game with me?”
“No, thanks.” Sam lips curled into an incredulous grin, revealing a small dimple to his cheek. “Um… maybe another time. I’m a little busy right now.”
“Oh, yeah, what with?” Alex asked.
Sam shook his head. Was this kid for real? “There’s a terrorist attack on our nation’s capital.”
Alex stood up and grinned, making a poor attempt at feigning embarrassment. “Oh right, of course. I forgot. Just remember, I offered to let you play my game instead. I think you’d find it a little more fun.”
Sam felt like hitting the kid, but it was obvious that it wouldn’t help. As bright as the man might be, he wasn’t synapsing the way normal individuals should. Perhaps it was better Alex should lock himself in a gaming room, away from the rest of the world.
He stood up to leave.
“Remember what I said, if you can think of anything about your grandfather that might help, please give me a call.”
Alex nodded. “Will do. Good luck with your game.”
Sam paused. “What did you say?”
“Good luck with your game.”
“I’m not playing any silly computer game here. Don’t you understand, this is real? I’m trying to stop a madman with a nuclear bomb from destroying our capital and everything good that stands for democracy.”
Alex appeared unfazed by the reproach. He made what appeared to be a genuine smile. Despite the small scars of his once pockmarked face, the kid would have been considered handsome. “I know.”
“Good.”
A wry smile and mischievous look formed on Alex’s face. “I hope you win, Mr. Reilly.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sam stepped out of the front door of Alex’s apartment. He glanced out at his ride and the uniformed officer who was waiting to take him back to JFK airport. Taking two steps at a time, he reached the third set of landing steps, when his cell phone rang.
He picked it up on the first ring. “Sam, speaking.”
“You were right,” was the first thing the Secretary of Defense said.
It was unusual for her to give an inch. The small crease of a smile formed across his face. “Thanks. I thought I was, but what about?”
“The bomb wasn’t moved out of that wooded area in the last week or even the last month.”
“How far back did you have to go?” Sam asked.
“Five years.”
In other words, after Grandpa William Goodson’s passing — but long before the death of Alex Goodson’s father. “That had to be from satellite records, right? That was fast.”
“We have some very patient people working for us, and some very good computer algorithms.”
“And?” he asked.
“And the empty casing for the bomb was already outside the downed aircraft.” The Secretary sighed heavily. “Actually, not just outside of it, but outside of the mine shaft. It’s left laying on the surface nearby, intermingled with the rest of the dilapidating mining equipment from the late 1930s.”
“Wait — you didn’t mention that before.”
“Yes. The bomb’s outer shell had been removed from the plane, and left outside the mine shaft’s entrance. Yet it was still within the National Park Service fences which were put in place more than twenty years ago to preserve the historic Maryland Mine Company’s abandoned gold mine.”
“The site can be seen by tourists?” Sam asked.
“Sure, there’s a dedicated Gold Mine Loop trail through the historic Maryland Mine Ruins, why?”
“Then, why hasn’t anyone ever noticed the bomb casing before?”
“Bad luck on our part I guess. People just didn’t know what they were looking at. It’s not surprising given the fenced area included the dilapidated remains of an old water tank, blacksmith shop, and overgrown sealed shaft entrances.”
“All right,” Sam said, shaking his head. “When was the bomb removed from the plane?”
The secretary repeated, “The empty casing was already outside the aircraft as of five years ago.”
“Did you find anything earlier?”
“Not yet. We’re still searching.”
“Then the bomb could have been taken even before then. Say as far back as during William Goodson’s lifetime. He might’ve removed it in the forties. This could all be some kind of post-death plot of Goodson’s to destroy D.C., for all we know.”
“Exactly.” That seemed to trigger the Secretary of Defense’s memory. “What about you, Sam? Did you find anything from Alex Goodson?”
Sam said, “I don’t know. You’re right, Alex probably isn’t involved in this —”
“But?”
“But he’s not who he’s pretending to be, either,” Sam said. “Which makes me wonder, why?”
“All right, we’ll keep our surveillance on him,” The Secretary said. “He tries to leave his apartment we’ll know.”
Sam asked, “Where are you with the situation in D.C., ma’am?”
“We have more than a dozen teams from the FBI, CIA, and the Military who have worked there way around the perimeter. Right now, a Major Kyle Ortega and his team from the 832nd Ordnance Battalion out of Fort Lee is heading up the mission to retrieve and disarm the nuclear bomb — as soon as its located.”
“Are they going to enter the capital?” Sam asked.
“Not yet. Our reconnaissance shows that the terrorist has at least three hundred ground troops, guarding the perimeter. They’re covered in dark military attire and balaclavas, but are equipped with state of the art military weapons, including multiple shoulder mounted Stingers that they used to take out the helicopter previously.”
“Three hundred sounds like a fairly small number to maintain control of the perimeter of Washington, D.C.,” Sam said. “Surely our tactical teams can force their penetration into the city without too much trouble?”
“Of course they can, but that doesn’t change the primary fact that our madman may still be willing to detonate a nuclear bomb.”
Sam swallowed hard and his back made an involuntary shudder. “What do you need me to do, ma’am?”
“Play the terrorist’s stupid game,” the Secretary commanded. “Keep him distracted until we can locate the bomb and end this thing.”
“Understood.”
“And, Mr. Reilly.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“For God’s sake, don’t antagonize our terrorist any more than you already have.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sam climbed into the Ford Taurus AWD Interceptor and the NY Highway Patrol Officer who’d been assigned to expedite his trip back, drove him to JFK airport.
He flicked through his cell phone and called a number. The receiver answered on the first ring. Ordinarily, there’s risk involved in using an open, insecure wireless network, but his people had taken every step to safeguard his phone. Even better, the woman he was about to call was even more stringently careful with security.
“Elise,” Sam said, as the big Ford Taurus accelerated through NY city traffic. “I need your help.”