| |
Air Force One
February 14th
1035 Local Time
Spectre was still glued to the small window, watching the F/A-18 holding formation off the 747’s right wing as Deputy Director Miller returned for the first time. He had been summoned to the front of the aircraft as soon as the President was on board, giving updates from his agents on the ground at the various attack sites.
The small army of bored reporters all turned to look at him as he walked up to Spectre and Decker. For security reasons, the Secret Service had turned off all communication capabilities. Even their satellite TV had been cut, leaving the reporters with no ability to gain or send information. They had been left to speculate among themselves as they raced across the Pacific to an unknown destination.
“Are you two doing ok back here?” Miller asked warmly. “I’m sorry it took me so long to check on you, but we’ve been kind of busy.”
Spectre turned and exchanged a look with Decker before turning his attention to Miller. Several reporters had inched closer toward them, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“We’re fine,” Spectre said dryly. “Are we there yet?”
Miller sat down in a chair across from Decker and Spectre, turning his back to the nosy reporters on the opposite side of the cabin.
“Not quite,” Miller replied. “But, unfortunately, we’ll be dropped off at the first stop due to the nature of what’s going on right now. Don’t worry, though. I’ve already arranged for my jet to meet us there.”
“What about the meeting?” Decker asked impatiently. “I think the President needs to see what’s on this thumb drive.”
Miller shook his head. “It will have to wait,” he replied. Miller leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’re dealing with the largest coordinated attack on Pacific military assets since Pearl Harbor. The President is going to have her hands full for quite some time.”
“So that’s it? It ends here?” Spectre asked. He made no attempt to hide the frustration in his voice. He had been reluctant to come out of hiding with Decker. After losing his close friends, he didn’t care about conspiracies anymore. He just wanted to be happy and safe with Decker without having to constantly look over their shoulder. As his mentor “Bear” Jennings had once told him, it didn’t matter who was in office, they were all criminals anyway. They could have their conspiracy.
But Decker would not allow it. She was still a Special Agent in the FBI. She couldn’t allow a criminal to go free like that, especially the second most powerful person in the country. It was a source of tension in their budding relationship, but it never changed how Spectre felt about Decker. And at the end of the day, he knew he would never change her mind. She was too hardheaded to listen to his pleas. So, he finally gave in and went along with it.
It was still unclear to Spectre how she had arranged the meeting without actually giving away the contents of the thumb drive. Decker had been a prosecutor in Boston before joining the FBI, and it was apparent to Spectre that she was well connected throughout the new administration. The fact that they had been picked up by the Deputy Director himself was proof.
Despite her connections, however, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. They were now being politely asked to leave. More important things had come up in the interest of national security. Spectre had already begun planning how they would disappear once they were back in the States.
“You’ll have to talk to Director Schultz about scheduling another meeting,” Miller replied with a nod to Decker. “He may want to assign you protective custody in the interim.”
Spectre let out a loud chuckle. “A protective detail? Ha! That’s rich,” Spectre said. “I think I’ll respectfully decline. I don’t have time to babysit more agents.”
Miller frowned as Spectre scoffed his idea. “I don’t understand,” he said as he looked at Agent Decker for answers.
“It’s kind of a sore subject,” Decker offered. “Cal was in protective custody in Miami. It didn’t go well.”
“Understatement of the year,” Spectre said. “I’m sorry, Deputy Director, but I don’t intend to end up in any more hot car trunks.”
“Well, whatever the case, Mr. Martin, we’ll have to coordinate a follow up at a later time,” Miller said. “I’m very sorry.”
“Thank you, sir,” Decker said. “I appreciate your help here.”
“And what better way to spend Valentine’s Day than on Air Force One with a fighter escort?” Spectre said with a smirk.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the front,” Miller said, ignoring Spectre’s comment. The reporters all watched Miller intently as he got up and flashed his access badge at the nearby Secret Service agent before disappearing behind the bulkhead.
When Miller was out of sight, Decker glared at Spectre. “Was that really necessary?” she asked.
“What?” Spectre asked, feigning a look of innocence.
“This is a big deal and he’s just trying to help,” Decker said. “You don’t have to be a jerk to him.”
“After everything we’ve been through, do you really trust these people?” Spectre asked.
“What happened to you, Cal?” Decker asked with a look of disappointment. “What happened to the man who always wanted to do the right thing, no matter what?”
“I became a realist,” Spectre replied flatly. “Seeing everyone close to you get killed does that to a person.”
“Cal—”
“No, I’m serious,” Spectre continued as he leaned in and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We have no idea how high this thing goes. The more I think about it, the more I realize we’re in over our heads here. For all we know, the President herself is in on it. And why would we believe otherwise? She picked her Vice President. Don’t you think they vetted him first?”
“So that’s it? After all we’ve been through, you just want to give up at the first obstacle?” Decker asked. “What about Marcus and Joe?”
“What about them?” Spectre asked tersely. Losing his two best friends had been one of the hardest things he had ever gone through. They had been killed by a Cuban operative working for a Chinese Intelligence Agent in Miami.
“Don’t you want justice for their deaths? And what about Baxter and Steele?”
“The people who killed them are dead,” Spectre replied without emotion.
“You know what I mean,” Decker snapped.
“Justice is a feel-good idea, but it won’t bring them back,” Spectre said. “Believe me; I tried the whole vengeance thing. It doesn’t make the demons ago away.”
Decker said nothing as she stared into Spectre’s sky blue eyes. She shook her head in disbelief at what she was hearing. She could see the pain in his eyes, but couldn’t fathom that such a strong man had lost his will to fight.
“I don’t understand, Cal,” Decker said finally.
Spectre leaned in close, took Decker’s hand, and held it with both hands. He looked into her eyes as she waited for an explanation.
“Sweetheart, I am sorry,” Spectre said. His eyes were glassy and his voice was low. “I don’t care about what’s right and wrong anymore. I’ve already crossed that line. None of it matters anymore. What matters to me is you.”
“Cal—” she said as he got up from his seat and took a knee next to her.
“When I thought I had lost everything, you came along and gave me a reason to live. Not just to live, but to fight. And I did fight. But now I’m done fighting. I just want to get on with our lives together. I know doing the right thing is important to you. I agree that it’s important. But what matters the most to me is what you and I have together. You’re my best friend and partner in all of this. I’m not willing to risk losing the only thing I have left. If that makes me a quitter, so be it. But at the end of the day, I want to hold you and know you’re safe with me even if that means the world comes crashing down around us. I love you, Michelle. That’s all that matters to me anymore.”
Decker wrapped her arms around Spectre’s neck and kissed him. They shared a passionate kiss as the gaggle of reporters intently watched them from a distance.
“I love you too, Cal,” Decker replied as she hugged him.
“I was serious, by the way,” Spectre added.
“About what?” Decker asked.
“The fighter escorts on Valentine’s Day,” Spectre said with a boyish grin. “That’s hot.”
Decker rolled her eyes and laughed. “You’re such a dork, Cal.”
“Come on, really?” Spectre asked, still grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah, but you’re my dork,” Decker said with a wink. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
* * *
“Ok, David, what do we know so far?” President Clifton asked her Director of Central Intelligence over the secure video feed. She was sitting behind her desk in the presidential office aboard Air Force One, surrounded by the Secretary of State, her Chief of Staff, Attorney General Larry Engall, several aides, and Deputy Director Miller.
The gray-haired DCI cleared his throat before beginning his briefing. David Chapman had been appointed by Clifton as part of her “Clean house” initiative in which she replaced key members of the executive branch with her own appointees that had not been part of the Beltway inner circle.
“Ma’am, twenty minutes ago, a group known as The Islamic State of Uyghur released a video on their website taking credit for the attacks on our bases in Guam, South Korea, and Japan,” he said as the video feed was replaced by an image of masked men carrying AK-47s standing in front of a black flag with a white crescent moon and star.
“The group claimed that the attacks were in retaliation for our airstrikes against targets in Iraq and Syria to disrupt the advancement of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant into those countries. We are still working to identify the man in the video, but he stated that the attacks were a warning to cease our aggression in the Holy Lands and withdraw all forces from what they called ‘unlawful occupations’ around the world,” Chapman continued.
“What do we know about this group?” Clifton said as she leaned back in the chair.
“This is the same group that claimed responsibility for the Kunming attack in Yunnan in March of 2014. Although the Chinese have played their anti-terrorism efforts close to the vest, we believe they have been dealing with the same ‘lone wolf’ attacks that we’ve been facing for the last several years,” Chapman replied.
“Remind me again, what was the Kunming attack?” Clifton asked.
“Of course, ma’am,” Chapman replied as the screen changed to his video link. “On the first of March in 2014, a group of individuals dressed in black rushed into the ticketing area of the Kunming Railway Station wielding knives. The assailants killed twenty-nine people and injured one hundred and forty-three before three of the four suspects were killed. There were also reports of attacks in the Dashuying area of the Jinma sub-district going on simultaneously. Chinese state television denied that these were anything more than rumors, but our intelligence sources tell us that this was part of a much larger, coordinated attack. It was later learned that an eight-person cell was responsible for the attacks.”
“Talk to the Chinese and find out what they know about this group,” Clifton said, turning to Secretary of State Jill Martha who was seated across from the President.
“Yes, ma’am,” Martha replied as her aide took notes.
“When we land in Honolulu, I want to make a statement,” Clifton said. “What is the damage total so far?”
“Air bases at Kunsan, Osan, Misawa, Kadena, and Guam were all hit. Guam and Osan were hit by suitcase EMP devices while the rest were hit by homicide bombers. The death toll right now stands at sixty-five with one hundred and fifty-two injured,” Chapman responded.
“David, are you sure that this was a terrorist group? Why did the Chinese send up fighters against us earlier?” Clifton asked.
“We’re not certain of anything right now, ma’am. As we discussed earlier, the Chinese claimed that they were responding to the launch of our alert fighters off Kadena Air Force Base. It’s no secret that they’re not happy about your policy to fully back the Taiwanese government, but we have not had any indications that they’re willing to go to war over that yet,” Chapman replied.
“Thank you, David,” Clifton said, rubbing her temples.
“Ma’am, there’s one more thing,” Chapman said.
“What is it, David?”
“My analysts are going back through everything we’ve had on the group in Uyghur as well as other areas, and we’ve consistently picked up chatter referring to ‘cutting the head off the snake.’ We’ve been sharing this information with the Secret Service and FBI, and we’re still working on sorting out whether this referred to the attacks that already happened, and the attempt in Taipei, or something in the future. But I strongly recommend that you limit your time on the ground at Hickam Air Force Base and get back to D.C. as soon as possible. I think it would be prudent to institute the Continuity of Operations plan and raise our threat level,” Chapman said. “This is a credible threat, ma’am.”
“Where is the Vice President now?” Clifton asked.
“He’s in Daytona for the opening weekend of NASCAR, ma’am,” Clifton’s chief of staff responded.
“Fine,” Clifton said with a long sigh. “Get him to Camp David and we’ll go from there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Chapman responded.
As the video conference with the DCI ended, Clifton let out a long sigh and turned to her Chief of Staff, Jenna Holtz. “Get me the Joint Chiefs; we need to start talking about military options.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Holtz responded.