Dale Brown - Act of War

The MRLS attacks would not stop the Old Guard or the Metropolitan Police Department of the District of Columbia for very long, but it didn’t have to—the second and third phases of the attack on the Capital were already underway.

Two convoys of four Humvees left hiding places in Anacostia and traveled across the Anacostia River, one convoy taking the South Capitol Street Bridge and the other taking the Interstate 295 bridges to the Frontage Road off-ramp to Twelfth Street. Police and firefighters did not stop either convoy—the Capitol Street convoy even had a police escort for several blocks. Once on surface streets, both convoys made it to The Mall, then traveled westbound on Madison and Jefferson Drives, going off the paved roads if necessary to circumnavigate traffic and fleeing panicked pedestrians now clogging the streets and parks. Once at the Washington Monument, the two convoys headed north, one on Fifteenth Street and the other on Seventeenth Street, again going around traffic or obstructions by simply going onto the park itself—the Humvees even cleared curbs and short one meter walls with ease. They raced up through The Ellipse with National Park Police looking on in amazement before reaching for radios to report the military vehicles heading toward the White House.

Their first significant barricade was at E Street and Executive Avenue, outside the South Lawn of the White House, where massive concrete planters had been placed to prevent anyone from parking near the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the South Lawn. But the lead Humvee in each convoy was equipped with a TOW missile launcher on the roof, and when the convoys came upon the barricades on E Street, they simply blew them apart with one TOW missile shot each. The wrought-iron fence was child’s play to breach with the Humvees.

Once on the South Lawn, the Humvees maneuvered west and north around the South Lawn Fountain toward the White House. Except for the lead TOW-missile-equipped Humvees, each of the other Humvees was armed with either a 50-caliber machine gun, 7.62-millimeter machine gun, or an Mk19 automatic grenade launcher mounted on the roof cupola. The units equipped with grenade launchers started peppering guard units on the roof of the White House from long range, while the units equipped with machine guns began raking the South Portico of the White House and West Wing with bullets. One of the TOW gunners got off a shot at the West Wing, blowing apart the gracefully curved windows of the Oval Office itself.

Shortly after the second salvo of MRLS rockets hit Seventeenth Street between the Old Executive Office Building and the Corcoran Art Gallery, four Secret Service Presidential Protection Detail agents burst into the Oval Office and escorted the President, Harold Kingman, and Chief of Staff Victoria Collins from the room. “What in hell is going on here?” Kingman thundered as he was half-pulled, half-dragged out of the office.

“Just follow along, Harold,” the President said, the tension in his voice obvious. “Let the Secret Service do their jobs.”

They were taken quickly along the south hallway through the West Wing, past the National Security Adviser’s office, and down a flight of stairs to the basement area of the West Wing. The Secret Service was busy clearing the area of nonessential personnel, so the group was escorted to the Situation Room to wait. The President immediately picked up a telephone and punched a button. “Robert? Where are you?”

“Still in my office, sir. I’m getting the latest from the Secret Service right now on the other line.”

“We’ve been brought down to the basement. Find out what in hell’s going on and then meet up with us in the Situation Room.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

The President hung up the phone…and at that moment they heard the first explosion of grenades hitting the roof of the White House. “Holy shit!” Wentworth exclaimed. “We’re under attack!”

The President pushed another button, this one direct to the PPD. “What’s happening, Carl?” he asked.

“A few minutes ago the Old Executive Office Building and The Mall near the Washington Monument were hit with heavy rocket fire, sir,” the chief of the Presidential Protection Detail said. “No reports of casualties or damage yet. Then the National Park Police reported military vehicles going across The Ellipse heading toward the White House. They—stand by, sir—” There was a long pause, then: “Mr. President, there appear to be six Humvees on the South Lawn. They blew up the barricades on E Street and crashed through the fences. They…sir, they are launching grenades at the White House. Our security forces on the rooftop are under attack. They…gunfire, they are hitting the Oval Office with machine gun fire…!”

“My God,” the President breathed. “My family…?”

“The First Lady was in the Correspondence Room—she’s being taken to the evacuation tunnel, sir.” A series of tunnels and emergency bunkers had been constructed under the White House during its expansion in the early years of the Cold War to protect the President from sneak attack. The tunnels were mostly used by the sixty-agent Secret Service Presidential Protection Detail to move in and out of the White House grounds but were also used by the staff on occasion, most notably on 9/11 to house the Vice President and National Security Adviser during the first confusing hours of the terrorist attacks. “The children are on their way to school but are being diverted to a secure location—no indications at all that they are targets. We’ll be ready to evac you all in just a few minutes, sir. We’re checking to see which egress routes are best. Please stand by.”

The President hung up the phone, a worried expression on his face. “Well?” Kingman demanded. “What are they going to do?”

“We’re evacuating the White House,” the President said.

Collins gasped aloud. “My God…”

“There are military vehicles up there on the South Lawn shooting at the White House.”

“Don’t you have any goddamned security in this place?” Kingman thundered.

“The army has sharpshooters and infantry units on the roof, but they’re under attack,” the President responded.

“Well, how do we get out of here?”

“There are pedestrian tunnels connecting the White House to several other government buildings,” the President said. “The Old Executive Office building was hit by a rocket, so that’s not an option…”

“A rocket?”

“There are other tunnels connecting the White House to the Treasury Building and the New Executive Office Building,” the President went on. “There’s also an underground rail system that connects the White House to the U.S. Naval Observatory and the Capitol. If necessary, we can get out via the Metro subway system, which we can access from the New Executive Office Building or the Treasury Building. We can be out of Washington in ten minutes.”

“What if they have a nuke, like in San Francisco or Kingman City…?”

“The Situation Room isn’t protected, but the bunker under the Treasury Building is protected against anything but a direct one-megaton hit,” the President said. “We’re safe, Harold. Relax.”

A few minutes later, Robert Chamberlain came trotting into the Situation Room, wearing a dark gray trench coat and breathing heavily. “We’re ready to go, Mr. President. Follow me, please.” He hurried out of the Situation Room, past the White House dining facilities, and through the door to the tunnel system, which had already been unlocked.

“Where are we headed, Robert?” Collins asked.

“The New Executive Office Building,” Chamberlain replied.

“I thought it was hit by a rocket!” Kingman exclaimed.

“It was only slightly damaged,” Chamberlain said. Every ten meters or so there was a soldier in full combat gear standing at port arms in the tunnel or a man in a bulletproof vest marked POLICE or U.S. SECRET SERVICE. “There are a number of police and firefighters up there, and they’ll screen us as we come out.”