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“I think they’re about to take off,” Spectre said as he watched the silhouette of the large transport aircraft on the runway. He and Lee had been keeping a lookout through the small hangar windows as Graves and Sullivan worked to get the F-15 ready to fly. Spectre could barely hear the whine of the engines spooling in the distance.
“Good,” Sullivan said as he finished his preflight walk around. He and Graves had been working in the dark using flashlights from the rolling toolbox. “I didn’t like the idea of taking off on a taxiway anyway.”
“They’re going,” Spectre said. The roar of the four turbofan engines rattled the windows of the hangar. The blacked-out transport aircraft began rolling. It seemed to defy the laws of physics as it leapt into the air barely two thousand feet later. The aircraft leveled off just under a hundred feet above the runway and then made a sharp turn to the left. Spectre guessed that they were going to stay low to avoid being picked up by radar as they made their escape.
As he watched the large transport aircraft disappear in the dark sky, the realization that it was all over suddenly hit him. Even if the President made it off the island, the men responsible would likely never be captured. They were ghosts. It was apparent they had planned every detail with great precision. Even if the President made it to safety, there would be no evidence of anything but Islamic extremists orchestrating the mission. And they would certainly never tie Johnson to it.
“Madam President,” Spectre said as he turned from the window and walked to where she was sitting with the Secretary of State on a rolling stool. “Before you go, we need to talk.”
“I don’t even know your name,” President Clifton responded as she stood. “I should thank you for what you’ve done.”
“My name is Cal Martin,” Spectre said. “And the reason Michelle and I were on the aircraft was to talk to you about Vice President Johnson.”
“Yes, I remember something about you,” Secretary of State Martha interjected. “My Chief of Staff said you had evidence of a multinational espionage ring involving many levels of government. She said she knew Agent Decker and that you’d only speak to the President and Attorney General because of the sensitivity of the matter.”
“That’s right, ma’am,” Spectre replied. He looked over at Decker. She had fallen asleep in the corner of the hangar. The intensity of the day’s events and exhaustion had finally caught up with her. “I had a thumb drive with evidence linking Vice President Johnson to a Chinese espionage ring. And I believe he’s involved in what has happened here today.”
“We’ll be ready to go in five minutes, Madam President,” Graves whispered as he walked by.
“Looks like you have five minutes, Mr. Martin,” the President said. “You have my attention.”
Spectre blitzed through his story as quickly as he could without glossing over any major details. After describing his first encounter with Johnson, Spectre told the story of his mission to recover his ex-fiancée and the F-16 she had stolen and flown to Cuba. He explained that it had been a Chinese intelligence operation, much like the oil platform in the Gulf of Mexico he’d found that was being used to gather intelligence on Air Force fighters training overhead.
He told the President what he’d learned of Victor Alvarez, Jun Zhang, and the assassin Xin. He explained that he had found a thumb drive in Charles Steele’s storage building. The thumb drive contained audio recordings of Steele receiving instructions from Johnson and then ended with Steele’s affidavit of what he had seen and how the Chinese had threatened his family to force him to cooperate.
“I think he tried to have me and my friends killed to tie up loose ends for your campaign,” Spectre said. “And I think he’s at least complicit in this operation. This is without a doubt a Chinese operation.”
“Chinese Uyghur, right?” the President asked.
“No, ma’am, Chinese intelligence,” Spectre replied. “These men are Chinese Special Forces and that aircraft that just took off is a Chinese transport plane.”
“We’re ready for you, ma’am,” Graves said as he approached them.
“Johnson was pushed on me by the party,” President Clifton said. “I didn’t know much about him during the campaign, but I have heard about his business dealings with the Chinese. I understand your frustrations, but I’m not sure that’s enough to take such an action with such circumstantial evidence.”
Spectre clenched his fists as he heard her dismiss everything he’d told her. His knuckles were turning white as he resisted the urge to punch her in the throat and take Decker and the F-15 and leave the inept politician in front of him to die on the island.
“Whether you believe me or not,” Spectre said angrily, “your Vice President stood idly by as a group of highly trained and very well-coordinated operatives tried to kill you. There’s a reason we haven’t seen DEVGRU, Delta, or HRT here yet.”
“The terrorists threatened to detonate the nuke, I—”
“I’ve worked with all three, ma’am, and I used to work for a team that reported directly to SECDEF that was even more capable. I can promise you that the reason they’re not here yet has everything to do with the man calling the shots right now,” Spectre snapped.
“I understand your frustration, and I appreciate everything you and everyone here have done for this country today. Your sacrifices will not be in vain. I will ensure that justice is served for the people responsible,” President Clifton replied.
“Start with Johnson or you won’t live to regret it,” Spectre warned. “He won’t fail a second time.”
“Ma’am, we need to get you out of here,” Graves said. “I’ll help you into the jet.”
“Mr. Martin, I thank you for all that you have done,” President Clifton said. “You’re an American hero.”
Clifton turned to address the small group as Graves guided her to the aircraft in the dark hangar. “You’re all heroes. I know that this is not easy for any of you. If I could trade places with you, I would, but the office of the President is more than just a person. It is a symbol of hope, freedom, and justice. And when I return, I will not let you down. The people responsible for this act of horrible violence will be brought to justice.”
As Graves helped her up the ladder, Spectre walked over to where Decker had been sleeping. She had been woken up by Spectre’s outburst with the President.
“What was all that about?” Decker asked.
“There is no justice,” Spectre replied. “We’re going to die here and she’s going to go back to Washington, give a couple of speeches, and pretend like nothing is wrong. Typical politician.”
“You told her about the thumb drive?”
“I told her what I could in five minutes,” Spectre said, shaking his head in disgust. “But without the audio recordings, it’s hard to pin it on the guy. You and I should’ve bailed when we had the chance. She doesn’t deserve a second chance.”
“Come here,” Decker said as she pulled him close to kiss him. “No matter what you think about her, she’s still the President. If she dies, he wins.”
“He’s going to win either way,” Spectre said dejectedly as he sat down next to her. “I don’t think she learned anything from this.”
Decker stroked his hair as she leaned against him. “It’s going to be ok, Cal.”
“You guys look terrible,” Lee said as he walked up to them. “Like you’re about to die or something.”
Spectre started to look at his watch, but then remembered he had given it to Buck. He was another casualty in this war for nothing. So many had died for a President that seemed utterly clueless about the world around her. Spectre was disgusted.
“An hour and forty-five minutes by my count,” Lee said, looking at his watch. “But not before I take out a few more of them first.”
Salvo walked up as Lee helped Spectre to his feet. “You guys might want to move before they light these afterburners,” he said, pointing at the exhaust nozzles a few feet away.
Spectre started to correct him, but then realized it was a waste of time.
“What’s wrong with these two?” Salvo asked Lee.
“They’re already dead,” Lee explained.
“Really?” Salvo asked. “Rambo here is giving up?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Lee answered.
“I see,” Salvo said as he frowned and turned to Spectre. “So, I guess you’d rather die on your knees than on your feet?”