William Bernhardt - Capitol Betrayal

“We do not stand alone in the world, Colonel. The United Nations will not-”

“The United Nations is only as strong as the United States, and at the moment the United States is helpless.”

“We are not the only superpower.”

“Who do you think will come to your rescue? Russia has far greater ties to the Middle East than to you. China owns you. You may have allies on paper, but what can any of them do for you? You stand alone in the world. You stand at my mercy.”

In the corner, Zimmer, still wearing communications headphones and staring at a computer screen, gave the president a signal. Ben didn’t know what it meant, but his face seemed to have at least a trace of optimism.

“My people are already working on this problem, Colonel. It won’t be long before we pry you out of our computers.”

“It will be too late, Mr. President, because you have only thirty minutes before I let the next missile fly.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“No, it is you who is making the mistake, a tragic one. You will withdraw your troops, and not just away from my borders, but from the entire Gulf. You will withdraw your forces from the Middle East, from our borders, from Saudi Arabia, from Iraq. Everywhere.”

“That’s insane!”

“My spy satellites are watching you. I know the truth, even if you do not care to reveal it to me. And I will not tolerate this.” He paused. When his voice returned, it was somewhat calmer. “I am not a barbarian. I am a civilized man. I will give you thirty minutes to order your men to retreat. If you have not begun to retreat in that time, I will launch the next missile. And this one will find civilian targets. That I can guarantee you.”

“Colonel, be reasonable-”

“Do not presume to give orders to me! I am not the one poised to invade your soil!” He sounded agitated, his voice jumping wildly in pitch and volume. “We do not meddle in the affairs of others. We do not attempt to play gendarme for the entire world. The American reign of terror has come to an end. You have meddled in the Middle East long enough, as your thirst for oil brought you to increasingly stupid decisions, extending your resources, living beyond your means, living the decadent lifestyle of high consumption and low productivity. Those days are done, Mr. President. You will withdraw your forces immediately. Or your people will face the consequences.”

“I can’t do that, Colonel. Not while you still occupy the Benzai Strip. Do you hear me?” There was no response. “Do you hear me?”

Still no response.

“I won’t abandon our personnel. The people who went down in that helicopter are U.S. citizens. We have the right to retrieve them!”

Still no response.

“Are you listening to me, Colonel?”

When the colonel’s voice finally returned, it possessed an eerie calm that Ben found positively chilling. “Your time begins… now.”

Seamus McKay climbed into the driver’s seat of the beat-up Dodge the Company had loaned him for in-city work, grousing once more about how screwed up the whole system really was. The terrorists had better weapons than they did, better intel than they had, and perhaps most gratingly, better cars than they got. And yet they were supposed to track these people down and apprehend them-while of course being scrupulous about not violating their civil rights.

Good luck.

Come to think of it, he might have violated eight or ten civil rights during that brawl at the Washington Monument, but he had prevented the ugly obelisk from being blown to pieces, so he hoped that would be the primary focus of the debrief. Well, he could hope, anyway.

His whole midsection ached. He must’ve sprained something when he pulled his entire body weight up to the second level where the sniper was perched. He needed to get to the gym more often than he did, keep those abs in shape. But as his chronological age crept ever closer to fifty, the urgency of befriending the Nautilus machines seemed to subside. Wasn’t he getting too old for this life? Coming stateside had been a step in the right direction. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life chasing after the kind of scum who would rob a nuclear armory?

Speaking of which, he’d better phone in an early report. The security cops at the monument must’ve contacted his office by now. He’d better make sure his superiors got his side of the story, as quickly as possible. As he pulled onto the parkway, he dialed his cell with his left hand.

“Zira?”

“I’m here, Seamus. What the hell is going on?”

As succinctly as possible, Seamus tried to bring her up-to-date, explaining how he had followed the trail from the Arlington armory, using a tip from a trusted informant, caught up to the thieves just as they left their hideout, and followed them all the way to the Washington Monument. He left out most of the details of the fight, just mentioning in passing that he had taken out several men single-handedly.

“But one got away? With the suitcase?”

Count on Zira to accentuate the negative. “Unfortunately. I couldn’t be in four places at once.”

“So you took down three men of no importance and let the one with the nuke escape?”

“I took the fourth down, too. Unfortunately, he got back up again.”

He could hear a tsking sound on the other end of the connection. “I think this is another example of incredibly poor judgment, Seamus. Just the latest of many such instances.”

How had he ever ended up with a female operations chief, anyway? With her high heels and her perfectly tailored suits, she wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes in Afghanistan. Did someone in Washington think this was politically correct?

“I saved the monument,” Seamus said curtly. “And there were no casualties.”

“Yet,” she rejoined without waiting a breath. “But since there’s a maniac out there with a nuclear device, how long will that remain true?”

Seamus stifled the instinct to swear. “Look, I’ve still got some leads. I saw a couple of things out there that might indicate where this guy will go next. I’ll follow up.”

“No, Seamus. You won’t.”

He swerved his car onto M Street and pulled into the far lane. “Are you kidding? I’m the one who found these clowns. No one knows more about them than me.”

“Nonetheless, you-”

“I’ll come in and do a full debrief and report later. Promise. But I’ve got to cover the field while the trail is still hot.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Are you listening to me?” Seamus practically shouted into the receiver. “These guys stole a nuke and they’re planning to use it.”

“Yes,” Zira replied, “and sadly enough, that is not the most urgent threat facing our nation today.”

“What are you talking about?”

“How much do you know about Kuraq and its current leader, Colonel Zuko?”

Seamus resisted the temptation to say, “A hell of a lot more than you.” “Plenty. Kuraq isn’t that far from Afghanistan or Iran. I’ve seen Zuko in action, back before he took control.”

“Good. How would you describe him?”

“Smart. Western-educated. Insecure about his military position, which is likely to make him dangerous.”

“You’re certainly right about the last part. Zuko has somehow infiltrated our military defense computers and seized control of some of our ballistic missiles.”

Seamus’s eyes bulged. “More nukes?”

“No, conventional explosives, at least at this time. But very powerful. Capable of making a very big hole in the ground.”

Seamus ground his teeth together. “How did he do it?”

“Our computer guys are still investigating. The most popular theory is that he’s launched a spy satellite that has a powerful computer-hacking ability.”