"Everybody down!" Thomas turned and pushed the president to the ground and crawled on top of him, using himself as a shield. Clay and several others did the same for Deanna and Sehera.
The magic carpet crunched like an accordion against the armor of the president's aircraft. The plastic fuselage of the amusement park ride didn't make a dent in the armor, but it managed to push the hovercraft up on one skid from the force of the impact. Marine One fell back on all three skids just as the power pack of the magic carpet ride exploded, sending multicolored shrapnel in all directions. A jagged composite material piece of the carpet's tassel penetrated the neck of one of the men standing guard around the vehicle. The shrapnel entered his neck from the side, ripping through his esophagus and the major arteries. He died almost instantly as a spray of bright red blood glinted in a ray of the rising Florida sun.
The rest of the guards around the vehicle had little time to react. A second carpet zoomed overhead and hit the president's hovercraft again. This time the trajectory of the carpet seemed more calculated, and it swooped down low enough just before impact to sandwich several of the other guards, killing them rather efficiently. The few that survived were hammered by third, fourth, and fifth carpets. Finally, a squadron of slightly larger hovercars shaped like flying elephants with gigantic ears swarmed in from Fantasyland behind them and collided with the vehicle, at once inflicting enough damage to topple Marine One up and over, landing completely upside down on a nearby sidewalk. A final car hit the underbelly, tearing through several power conduits of the vehicle. Sparks and hydraulic fluids spilled out from multiple torn junctions in an array of electric colors and goopy liquids. The electrical system flashed bright white with just enough heat in the right direction to trigger the volatile liquids to flame. The lift began to smolder and then slowly burn. Pieces of the plastic from the hovercars began to flicker from the heat and distort as the surface charred and melted.
"Marine One, do you copy?" Thomas called over the tac-net.
"Roger that. Pilot and copilot are okay but I don't think we'll be able to roll over or to pull out from under this pile of debris," the pilot replied. "We're dead in the water here."
"Hang in there, Marine One. You are on fire and you need to get out!" Thomas replied.
"Negative. We're trapped unless somebody can roll this thing over."
"Damnit!" Thomas wanted to help them, but his priority was the president. He needed his detail for that mission.
"We should try to help them, Thomas," President Moore told him.
"I'm sorry, sir, but that isn't our protocol. We have to protect you first and foremost, and moving out there could be a trap."
At that point the discussion was moot, as a third wave of flying vehicles crashed into the flaming underbelly of Marine One. The impact sent even more fluid spurting from the hydraulic systems, which in turn fueled the already growing flames. Soon, the hovercraft reached a critical flashpoint and burst into roiling orange flames. Finally, it exploded as the ordnance on board must have reached some critical temperature. The explosion flung debris high into the air across the central fountain on Main Street. There was little left of the president's vehicle or the crumpled amusement park hovercars.
"HQ! HQ! This is a full-scale attack alert. The president is under attack and Marine One is down! I repeat Marine One is down! We need immediate backup and extraction. President is in jeopardy!" Thomas called over the net. He pulled one of the other agents from the periphery over the pile to cover the president. Then Thomas crawled forward to make a better assessment of the situation.
Tammie, give me the virtual map of the Magic Kingdom, he thought. A virtual three-dimensional map appeared around his head.
Done.
Now, overlay any free-flying coaster rides and their locations. Can you track them by any means? Thomas longed for his armored e-suit and all the sensors and instruments that had been available to him as a marine. The lidar or the quantum membrane (QM) sensor alone would be enough to track the flying fantasy cars.
I'm not sure how, Thomas. I'll ask Abigail to think about it.
Okay.
Thomas got his bearings straight from the virtual map and from simply looking around the park. They were on the path between Tomorrowland and Fantasyland, between Storytime with Belle and the Cosmic Starlight Café. A quick zoom in on the virtual map showed that Storytime with Belle was in a small amphitheater surrounded by a rock wall. It would be pretty good cover, and they were only about twenty meters or so from it.
Okay, we are moving here! Thomas ordered via the DTM com-net. He had the map highlight the path to all the agents and to the First Family—all but Sehera, that is. The First Lady had refused to have an AIC as long as he had ever known her, but she was good at taking visual and verbal cues. She also wore a dermal ear transceiver. Although she didn't have an AI inside her head, she did have a communication device there.
Move! Thomas ordered, leading the way around the rock wall to the small outdoor theater.
"Groundcrew One, be advised that backup has been deployed. ETA is four minutes."
"Roger that, HQ!"
Mr. President, I think I've figured out a way to track the flying vehicles, Abigail alerted her human counterpart.
How? the president thought to his AIC. She was one of the smartest AICs anyone had ever heard of and had helped him through scrapes that dated back nearly four decades. Moore had learned that when Abigail had advice, he needed to listen to it.
There are several Internet hubs scattered across the park. I'm connected to each of them. Any motion within the park creates multi-path reflections between us and those hubs. I've generated some algorithms that have allowed me to track the motion based on the connection speeds I have with the Internet at each of these hubs. In essence, I'm using the wireless routers of the park like multi-path radars, Abigail informed.
So, you are tracking them now? the president asked.
Yes, his AIC replied.
Relay that info to the security detail, Abigail.
Already did, Mr. President.
Good girl. Give me a DTM view of the park with overlays of the enemy movement.
Yes, sir.
A transparent three-dimensional view of the Magic Kingdom filled his mind with red dots moving in the distance and a cluster of blue dots on top of his location in the map. Moore noticed that the red tracks were more or less setting up a perimeter on the edge of the park's boundaries. Rather than attacking, they were circling like a pack of wolves trapping an injured cow.
Abigail, is Thomas seeing this map?
Yes, Mr. President. They have the multi-path track live now, she said.
"Thomas, give me a gun," Moore ordered his bodyguard.
"Mr. President, we can handle this," Thomas replied, although Moore was certain that the marine knew better than to argue. Moore had a way of getting things done the way he wanted them done. Moore had been in combat with Thomas and didn't expect that there was apprehension on Thomas' part about handing a civilian a gun. It was probably more of an insult to the marine that the president feared that they couldn't protect him and his family.