Vince Flynn - Extreme Measures

“And you show it by sending them to their deaths.”

“You are a fool.” Karim grabbed the front passenger headrest and pulled himself forward. “We do not have billion-dollar planes and laser-guided bombs to fight with. This is how we must wage war. This is how we will defeat them. Six brave men are about to give their lives today, and you are too self-absorbed in your own emotions to admire their sacrifice.”

“And you are too self-absorbed in your own greatness. If this is such a wonderful idea, then why aren’t you going in with them?”

Karim threw himself back into his seat. Under his breath he was cursing his friend, and then himself for being so stupid to bother bringing this up. As they passed over the freeway that went to the airport, Karim saw the woods off to their left and the roofs of several buildings. “Don’t miss the turn,” he barked.

“I know where it is,” Hakim shot back bitterly.

Karim thought about really giving it to him, but they didn’t have the time. They were less than a minute from the facility. He grabbed the radio, pressed the transmit button, and said, “Thomas, we will be with you in less than sixty seconds. Do you copy?”

“Copy.”

Karim looked behind them and saw the Suburban close on their tail as they took the left turn. They were only five hundred feet from the big looping service road that would take them up the hill. Karim said a quick prayer, and was relieved he had put Ahmed in the woods so he would have some eyes on the target. He imagined, for a second, how unnerving it would be to make this drive with no knowledge of what waited at the security point.

Hakim made the turn and accelerated. The Suburban followed close behind.

“Men,” Karim said into the radio, “remember your training. Stay together, do not use the elevator, and go straight to your primary target.”

The road swung around to the right, and then there it was. The six-story building looked no different from any of the other office buildings in the area. Even the guard shack up ahead seemed practical. Hakim turned left and stopped at the guard shack. As planned, he rolled down his window and pointed to the backseat. Karim began rolling his window down, and as the guard approached; he looked at him through his sunglasses, smiled, and shot him three times in the face. Before the guard had hit the ground, one of the men was out of the Suburban. He marched straight up to the bulletproof guard shack and stuck a block of C-4 on the door. Two guards sat on the other side of the thick glass, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Hakim gunned the engine, and the car raced forward. He pulled into a parking spur on the left just as they heard the explosion. A moment later, four shots rang out, and then a few seconds after that, the Suburban sped past with four of the men standing on the running boards and holding on to the luggage rack.

“Thomas, you may engage targets at will.” Karim smiled with pride and made a last-minute decision. “Follow them.”

Hakim turned around and looked at him with complete surprise. “But that is not part of the plan.”

“I know, but I want to see them enter the building.”

“This is not wise.”

“We are fine. As you can see, they have been caught completely off guard. It is yet another sign of their arrogance.”

“I’ll drive up and we’ll come right back out. You are not going to change your mind and go in with them.”

“No,” Karim said, patting him on the shoulder. “Go! I want to savor this great moment. I want to watch them enter the building.”

Hakim took his foot off the brake and hit the gas. They drove to the corner of the building and took a hard left. Along this side of the building, two wings angled back to form a shallow V. The Suburban had jumped a curb, ran over a flagpole, and come to a halt approximately fifty feet from the front door. The men were in a straight line, weapons up, and heading toward the front door. A man and a woman came out and moved to the side to make room. The lead man in the conga line ignored them, but the second man swung his M-4 over and fired two quick shots, striking each person in the head.

“Look at them,” Karim said, full of pride. He watched as the men disappeared into the building, and then he heard a steady stream of shots. His eyes traveled up the façade of the building to the sixth floor. That was where his men were headed. To the heart of America’s war against Islam. This wouldn’t get the media attention that the blasts would receive, but it would hurt the Americans far more. Karim could barely take the thrill of knowing that America’s best and brightest were gathered at this very moment on the top floor of this building – their National Counterterrorism Center. They were gathered to manage this crisis, trying to find the very people who were now on their doorstep. The psychological blow would be devastating. If only he could be there to see the looks on the faces of the smug Americans as his men mowed them down.

“I’m leaving,” Hakim announced.

“Wait,” Karim said as he looked wild-eyed out the window. He heard the first explosion and felt the pull, the desire to join his men. The car began to move. “Just a little longer.”

Hakim jammed his foot onto the break and turned around. “You either get out or we leave.”

“Fine,” Karim answered in a sad voice. “Go.”

RAPP was about to head back upstairs when Lonsdale came walking through the door with two Secret Service agents. The normally put-together and well-styled Lonsdale looked absolutely disheveled. As Rapp approached, he realized that she’d been crying. It dawned on him that she quite likely knew more about who was under that pile of rubble that used to be a favorite haunt of senators than anyone else in the building. A few of those people were also undoubtedly her friends.

Earlier in his career, Rapp would have never felt an ounce of compassion for this woman, but with age he had begun to realize that most of the players in this drama did not intend to do harm. They simply downplayed or ignored the threat. Some were naïve and merely thought the terrorists would go away if we understood them better. Others, like Lonsdale, thought the letter of the law was the most important thing. That we as a nation must never lower ourselves to their level. In Rapp’s world, where he saw up close the mayhem that these groups caused, the first sentiment was simply naïve and the second, while honorable, was not very practical.

Rapp looked at her cheerless, bloodshot eyes and wondered if the murder of her fellow senators would cause her to see things differently now. “Senator Lonsdale,” Rapp said in a polite voice, “thank you for coming.”

Lonsdale looked nervously around the room, and said, “Where are they?”

“Excuse me?” Rapp said not understanding what she was talking about.

“The men you captured,” she said, looking him in the eye for the first time. “I spoke with the president. He told me you have four men in custody.”

Rapp wondered if any of these politicians knew how to keep their mouths shut. “Senator, maybe after we handle the video conference with al-Haq, I can…”

“I want to see them now!” Lonsdale said forcefully.

The force of her demand took Rapp aback. “I can assure you, they are being taken care of, ma’am.”

Lonsdale clenched her fists and stepped to within a foot of Rapp. Looking up with her bloodshot eyes, she said, “I do not care about their welfare, Mr. Rapp. I want to see them right now.”

Rapp was suddenly very curious to see how this would play out. “Fine… follow me.”

After a couple steps he turned and told the Secret Service agents that they could stay put. It was bad enough he was bringing Lonsdale up. The last thing they needed was more men with badges. Lonsdale followed him up the spiral staircase in silence. When they reached the door to the conference room, Rapp knocked and said to Lonsdale, “Give me a second.”