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“What the fuck are you doing?” Spectre snapped as he slowly lowered his weapon.
“It’s nothing personal,” Graves said, pointing the rifle. “Now drop your weapon.”
“You too, sweetie, or your boyfriend will have a new hole in his face to breathe through,” Graves said as he looked at Decker while his rifle stayed pointed at Spectre.
“I would reconsider your plan of action, if I were you,” Spectre said as he placed his weapon on the sand. “You’re not going to win this one.”
“If you even think about making a move, I will shoot you,” Graves said as he kept his weapon trained on Spectre. “You are my ticket off this island.”
“That’s great and all, but it’s not me that you should be worrying about,” Spectre said as he stood back up.
Before Graves could register the comment, Decker smashed her rifle butt into the bridge of Graves’s nose and then followed up with a sidekick to his left knee, causing him to collapse as he fell to the side. Despite his injured hamstring, Spectre was instantly on top of the man, disarming Graves as he collapsed.
“I told you it was a bad idea,” Spectre whispered as he tossed the AK-47 aside and subdued Graves.
Blood gushed everywhere from Graves’s broken nose. Spectre dragged him deeper into the tree line away from the warehouse as Decker kept watch.
“Let’s chat for a second,” Spectre said as he propped Graves up against a tree. “If you lie to me, you deal with her. Is that what you want?”
“No,” Graves groaned as he held his bleeding nose.
“Good,” Spectre said. “Now what the fuck are you doing? And if you try to yell for help, I will kill you myself.”
“When they got here, they killed everyone and captured me,” Graves said.
“Wait, what do you mean when they got here? You weren’t on Air Force One?” Spectre asked.
Graves shook his head. “I was on a team to rescue an F-15D that had an engine problem and had to divert here on the way back to Kadena.”
“Where is the F-15 now?” Decker asked.
“It’s in Hangar Ten,” Graves said, pointing off in the distance near where the cargo aircraft disappeared from view.
“Two-seater, right? Flyable?” Spectre asked.
“We were putting it back together as these guys showed up,” Graves said. “It needs an engine run, but it should be good to go.”
“Ok, dude, then why in the fuck are you sticking a rifle in my face?” Spectre asked.
“I tried to get word out to the Command Post at Kadena just before they captured me. They pulled my ID from me and had information on everything – family, friends, relatives, you name it. They showed me the nuke and made me watch them kill an FBI big wig. Then the head guy told me I had two options. I could cooperate and my family would be unharmed. They would take me off the island with them and give me ten million to just disappear. I could retire and live the good life. They’re planning on detonating the nuke either way so Gary Graves would have ceased to exist.”
“And if you didn’t?” Decker asked.
“They said I would be one of their propaganda videos,” Graves said softly. “And my family would be killed.”
“But I saw you in their filming room. You were going to be a propaganda video,” Decker said. “Right after me.”
Graves shook his head again. “They were worried about a downed pilot they were talking to on the radio. They told me to plead for my life and if he showed up, lead him here.”
“Is the President even in this hangar?” Spectre asked.
“No,” Graves said reluctantly. “It’s a staging area.”
“You’re an idiot,” Spectre said disgustedly. “They were using you as bait.”
“That makes no sense,” Decker said. “If you were bait, why would they put you in captivity with me? Why go through all that trouble?”
Graves shrugged. “They didn’t tell me why. They just said to do it or else.”
“He’s an idiot,” Spectre said to Decker. “They’re intercepting SARSAT signals just like they did to me in Syria. They’re trying to make this believable to the politicians in Washington to make it look like Islamic terrorists.”
“It’s not?” Graves asked timidly.
“No, moron,” Spectre replied. “Do you think Al Qaeda has troop transports now? And the ability to do bad weather night assault landings? This is a Chinese special operations mission.”
Spectre wasn’t entirely sure, but his theory had solidified after watching the blacked-out cargo aircraft land a few minutes prior. Graves had confirmed it. Everything he had seen and heard so far was about appearances. The video equipment. The flags. The SARSAT transmissions. It was an intelligence mission, just like what he’d seen in the last two years in Cuba and Tampa.
“Think about it, Michelle,” Spectre continued. “They kidnap the President and make it look like Islamic terrorists. They put up a big show about it. Maybe ransom. Maybe not. But they give that asshole Johnson the opportunity to take over and show leadership and then they kill everyone on the island with a nuke so there’s no evidence and no more President.”
“The thumb drive,” Decker replied. “He never stopped working for the Chinese. This is a coordinated effort to put their guy in charge. They want their own puppet government.”
“Yup,” Spectre said. “I’ll bet you they thought he was going to get the presidential nomination, and when he didn’t, they hatched this half-assed plan to fix it.”
“Why would the Chinese care who our President is?” Graves asked.
“Taiwan Straits,” Spectre replied. “Don’t you watch the news? President Clifton has been a champion of a ‘Free Taiwan’ and giving them a seat at the international table as a sovereign nation. They want someone who’s in their back pocket. Or front pocket, in Johnson’s case.”
“So, what now?” Decker asked.
“Watch him for a second,” Spectre said before limping off. A few seconds later, Spectre returned with Graves’s AK-47. He hit the magazine release, pulled the full magazine out, and cycled the bolt, ejecting a live round. He then started pushing 7.62 rounds from the magazine out onto the sand. When the magazine was empty, he reinserted it into the AK-47 and then hit the action release button, sliding the bolt closed.
“Get up,” he said as he held the weapon out in front of him and offered it to Graves. “You’re going to get what you wanted.”
“Cal, what are you doing?”
“He doesn’t know there are two of us,” Spectre replied. “Let him take me in while you go free the President.”
“Cal-”
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Spectre asked. “To save the President?”
“Not without you,” Decker replied nervously.
Spectre hopped on his good leg as he removed the magazines from his chest rig and handed them to Decker. “I’m too gimpy, sweetie. I’ll just slow you down.”
“But you can fly a fighter jet, I can’t,” Decker argued as she reluctantly accepted the magazines and put them in her cargo pants pockets. “How are we going to get off the island?”
“I can’t fly F-15s,” Spectre replied with a shrug. “And we’ll cross the evacuation bridge when we get to it. Right now, we have to at least get people out of bad guy land. Get the President safe and I’ll meet you at the hangar if I can.”
“Why the sudden change of heart, Cal?” Decker asked, confused by his newfound gung-ho attitude. “A few hours ago, you just wanted to go hide with me.”
Spectre checked his handgun a final time and then stuffed it in his waistband before handing his rifle to Decker. She took it and slung it across her back as she awaited his reply.
“Johnson,” Spectre said angrily. “This won’t end until he’s gone, and we’ll certainly never have peace if he kills President Clifton.”
“The only way to end this war,” Spectre added, “is to win it.”