Fort Meade, MD
2:36 AM Tuesday, January 20
The sound of machines powering down cut into Chad’s tirade, turning his attention to the computers and the screens against the wall. All were dark.
Brynn watched his harsh glare land on Petty Officer Wills. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” The woman crossed her arms in front of her. “It’s a security protocol. The system shuts down.”
Brynn searched the perimeter of the room and spotted several cameras. They knew Chad was there. Did that mean they had found Jack? A horrible sickness washed over her as she thought of him on the ground. The gunshot . . . was he dead?
A sudden silence filled the room, and everyone’s eyes turned to the wide vent that was no longer humming or sending cool air into the room.
Chad snorted. “Heh. They realize this isn’t a movie, right? Do they think they’re going to sweat me out?”
“The air-conditioning is only on to keep the computer systems cool.” The airman from earlier eyed Chad with a derisive smirk. “No computer system”—he lifted a hand toward their blank screens—“no air conditioner.”
“I didn’t want to do this, but I guess I need to make it clear that I’m serious.” He aimed the gun at Wills’s head. She flinched, her jaw tightening, and Brynn saw fear flash in her eyes.
The others stopped moving, their silence revealing a new level of alarm.
A phone at the back of the room rang, and maybe it was exhaustion or the growing pain in her elbow, but Brynn’s thoughts went straight to every hostage scene in a movie. Was the negotiator calling?
Chad then took the gun off Wills and used the tip to push Brynn toward the phone. “Answer it.”
Brynn walked over and lifted the receiver from the hook. “Hello?”
“Ms. Taylor, this is General Chen. How are you?”
She glanced over at Chad. “I’ve had better days, sir.”
“We’re working to—”
“Tell him I want the screens on,” Chad shouted. “I want to see what’s happening outside this room.”
“Tell him we can do that,” General Chen said, having heard the demand. “We also have someone working in the air vent and—”
“And I want to see what’s happening in Egypt.” Chad pressed the gun to Brynn’s temple. “Or I begin shooting hostages.”
“D-did you hear that?” Brynn asked.
“We’re turning it on now.” And like magic, two of the screens on the wall lit up. “Did you hear what I said, Ms. Taylor?”
“Ye—”
Chad yanked the phone out of her hand. “That’s enough.”
Brynn stared up at the two television screens on the wall coming to life. One was the live newscast from Cairo, Egypt, showing the arrival of President Allen and her entourage, which included National Security Advisor Doug Martin. The other was video from a security camera positioned outside the CCR showing a growing number of armed military and federal police officers.
How many people were going to die tonight and in the days to come if Hamadi’s virus infected the nation’s security system? How many other groups like the one in Texas were prepared and ready to attack?
Brynn looked at the faces of the security specialists lined up on the floor. They were a diverse group in age, gender, and race. How many of them were married, had children? She guessed every one of them came to work expecting today to be just like any other day.
She looked at Chad, trying to figure out how this all-American kid with blond hair and deep-blue eyes full of hope and optimism had transformed into a terrorist as dark as the black dye he used on his hair. What would make someone angry enough to fall prey to the ideology of hate?
“What did they promise you, Chad?” Brynn’s voice nearly wavered. “Power? Money? Your name forever remembered as a martyr?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sneered.
“Don’t I?” Brynn adjusted her arm, the throbbing almost intolerable at this point. “I created a whole program about people like you.”
“People like me?”
Brynn recognized the flicker of rage in Chad’s eyes and knew she had to tread carefully. He was still holding a gun, and she didn’t want to guess how many IEDs were set to explode with the press of a button. But if she could keep him talking, maybe it would buy General Chen some time.
“A pawn in their agenda.” She pointed at the screen showing protests happening in Egypt. “Do you think the National Liberation Jihad even knows your name?”
A second of surprise registered in Chad’s eyes before they turned dark. “They know my name. Respect me. Appreciate my skills.” A wicked smile filled his face. “The money is good too.”
Nausea lodged in her throat. In the past two years, Brynn had studied dozens of homegrown terrorists across the globe. They all had something in common. An emptiness tucked into the recesses of their eyes.
Brynn was no longer looking at the neighbor kid next door who had been bullied or let down by some entitlement they believed was owed to them. Chad had pled allegiance to a terrorist organization, and that made him a traitor.
Chad’s eyes kept moving to the screen. President Talaat’s motorcade had arrived at Wadi Basaela. He stepped out, smiling and waving at a crowd of Egyptians swinging the American flag overhead.
“It’s almost time.”
“You don’t want to do this, Chad. Think about your mom.”
Brynn’s words drew a sharp glare from Chad. “Don’t speak about my mother.”
Ahh, so he did have some soul left. “You want people to know who you are, remember you? That’s easy to say when you won’t be around to face the judgment. Your mom will be the one people talk about. She will be the one to carry the burden of your crime. Is that what you want?”
Chad paced the floor near her, and Brynn caught the eye of the airman who had spoken before. She read the message in his expression, and with as much emphasis as she could muster with her eyes, subtly shook her head. Any attempt to attack Chad held a risk of the bomb going off. She needed to talk him down or hope someone was coming up with a plan.
“You.” Chad pointed to Jasmine Wills, who had stood up to him earlier. “Get over here.”
Petty Officer Wills hesitated for a second before standing to her feet and walking toward him—shoulders back, chin up, and a fiery expression etched into the features of her dark skin.
Chad must’ve sensed her pluckiness, because he took a step back, putting Brynn in front of him, and pressed the gun into her spine as he held up the cell phone. “Sit.”
Wills did and then folded her arms over her chest like a petulant child being asked to do their homework.
“Put in your passcode.”
“I can’t,” Wills said, defiance in every syllable.
Chad’s lips curled as he pulled the hammer back on the gun. “You think I won’t kill her?”
“No.” Wills shook her head, looking genuinely scared. She moved her hand slowly toward the steel box at the bottom of the screen. “I can’t put my passcode into the computer because they are shut down. I told you it requires a manual key.”
Rage colored Chad’s face a deep magenta, and Brynn started to close her eyes, preparing for the gunshot. Words she’d long forgotten filled her mind. “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” It was a verse her father used to speak to her when he’d remind her to anchor herself in God. Firm and secure, that’s what Brynn wanted—to be anchored in the hope God would deliver her.
A loud knock against the metal door startled her. Their attention flashed to the security video and Brynn gasped. It was Jack. He was alive. Tears turned her vision blurry.
“You need a key.” Jack’s voice filled the room. He held up a thick black key. “You can’t operate the computer system without it.”
What was he doing? She wanted to scream at him to leave. Get out of the building and take everyone with him.
The muscles in Chad’s cheek pulsed with anger before he released a breath. “If you try anything, I will press this button and kill everyone here.”
Jack held up his hands and turned to show he wasn’t armed. The movement gave Brynn her first glimpse of the bloodstain on his side.
The door unlocked and opened, and Jack stepped inside and closed the door behind him. An unexpected peace washed over her. Meeting Jack’s soft gaze zeroed in on her, Brynn felt like God was giving her an anchor in the chaos she couldn’t control.
Walking slowly to the computer where Petty Officer Wills sat, Jack kept his hands in full view as he inserted the key and turned it. A few seconds later the computer buzzed with electricity.
Jack turned to Chad. “Go ahead. Do what you have to do, but let her and the others go.”
“Open your operating system.” Chad ignored Jack, his gun now pointed on him. “Go sit with the others.”
Jack hesitated for a second and then obeyed. Chad continued to feed instructions to Wills and then smiled. “There. Now go.”
Chad set the gun on the table, his thumb still too close to the detonator button for Brynn to consider even going for the gun. He pulled out the zip drive.
“You can’t do this, Chad.” Her voice wavered. “Are you really willing to kill innocent people? Yourself?”
“I am devout.” His simple answer chilled Brynn to the core. He grabbed the gun and aimed it at her. “Sit.”
Brynn did.
“All you have to do is hit enter.” Chad smiled. “Then it won’t be me who kills innocent people. It will be you.”
Brynn’s heart dropped to her stomach. “What? I’m not going to do it.”
Chad’s eyes narrowed on her, and he walked to where Jack was and pointed the gun at his head. “Do it now or I will kill him.”
Tears slid down Brynn’s cheeks. “Jack?”
“It’s okay, Brynn.”
No, it wasn’t okay. She wasn’t going to let Chad make her choose. There had to be another way. But what?
Jack snapped his fingers, bringing her focus back to him. “Brynn, you don’t have a choice.”
She frowned. “I can’t, Jack. I can’t let him kill all those people.”
Chad laughed. “Even if you don’t, I will after I kill him and then you.” He pointed to the screen where President Talaat smiled as the camera panned to the military generals next to him. “Allah has provided dahry.”
Brynn blinked, a memory fighting to find space in her head.
Jack snapped again. “Don’t think about them.” His voice was measured. “Think about me. About the team working in this room.”
It didn’t make sense. Was he really asking her to choose him over . . . Trust. The word popped into her head, and she saw Jack’s lips shift into a subtle smile.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
Chad walked back over to her and pressed the gun into her temple. With a trembling finger and a quick prayer, Brynn pressed enter and held her breath.
Nothing happened. Or at least nothing she noticed. The moment felt a little anticlimactic. The screens shut off, and she feared she’d done something wrong until slowly, one by one, the monitors turned fuzzy and then . . . a skull and crossbones appeared.
“What?” Chad started to lean over the computer when his head snapped back before the echo of the gunshot reached Brynn’s ears.