Phillips leaned forward and rested her elbows on her desk, interlocking her fingers. She nodded to the briefcase. “And is this evidence in there?”
Ruby nodded. “Yes. It was given to us by General Thomas Matthews, the former CIA director.”
“Former?”
She glanced respectfully down at the floor. “He’s dead.”
Phillips face failed to hide the shock and emotion, which Ruby picked up on.
“You didn’t know… Shit, I’m very sorry. But he was involved in this conspiracy.”
The secretary of state recovered quickly. “Show me.”
Ruby turned to Jonas and nodded. He stepped forward and placed the briefcase on the desk. Phillips opened it and her eyes widened with surprise at the volume of content contained within.
“Care to summarize this for me?” she asked.
Jonas smirked. “Good luck with that…”
Ruby ignored him. “I’m not as familiar with it as Adrian is, but, basically, President Cunningham was the brains behind the 4/17 attacks and this North Korean invasion. Everything that’s happened, and that’s happening now, is because of him. I know it sounds crazy, but the evidence is there in front of you.”
Phillips stared at her with an unblinking gaze. Her heart rate began to climb slightly. She absently brushed a hand through her hair, and then looked at the four guards. “You can leave us, it’s okay.”
“Madam Secretary, are you sure?” asked one of them. “I’m under orders to detain these people pending a formal arrest.”
“I’m fairly certain any order I give outranks any orders given by anyone else in the building. I said leave.”
Her tone was strong and final and prompted no further dispute. The guards filed out of the room, with the last shutting the door behind him.
Ruby and Jonas watched them go and looked back at Phillips, who had leaned back in her chair once again.
She stared at them both in turn. “Start talking.”
27
This traffic is shit. I can literally see the turn I need to take coming up on the left, which will lead me to the security firm, and our van, but these assholes in front of me aren’t moving when they have a chance to.
“Come on…” I say, mostly to myself, as a gap appears for me to go through, but this clueless dick in front of me isn’t paying attention.
And now the gap’s gone again. Fucking great!
I let out a heavy, impatient sigh.
Next to me, Oscar chuckles. “Man, I bet your road rage is somethin’ else!”
I look across at him, unable to shift the angry expression from my face. But a smile slips through after a moment.
“I don’t like waiting for things. I called in sick the day they were handing out the patience allowance.”
“We’re almost there. I’ll drive to Washington once we’re in the van, give you a break.”
“Thanks.” I glance ahead. “What’s causing this hold up?”
“I can’t really see. It looks like—”
An explosion sounds out, shaking the vehicle and everything around us. Ahead, a thick, dark plume of smoke rockets into the air, distributing dust and brick over the nearby area.
“What the fuck was that?” I step out of the car, stand, and lean on the open door as I look around. People on every side of me are doing the same. The bitter stench of the smoke is traveling quickly, burning my nostrils.
Oscar joins me outside the car. “What the hell…?”
My spider sense is doing somersaults. “I don’t like this…”
Another loud explosion, this time away to my left. I instinctively duck my head a little as I look over and see two military Jeeps full of soldiers speeding toward our traffic jam. Behind them, in a black pickup truck, are four guys — two in the cab, two in the back. One’s standing, holding on with one hand and carrying a machine pistol in the other. His friend, who I can just about see crouching behind him hanging onto the side, is throwing grenades at the soldiers.
What the…?
I look back up the street and see another pickup truck appear from the right. All around me people start screaming. Men, women, children — some locking themselves in their cars, others abandoning them.
“Adrian, what’s happening?”
“If I were to guess, I would say Cunningham’s decreed martial law on account of the world being at war with North Korea. And by the looks of it, some of the locals ain’t all that pleased…”
The guy on the left raises his machine pistol — which looks like a TEC-9 from here — and empties his mag into the air. A very amateurish attempt at crowd control, I think.
I turn to Oscar. “This is gonna turn real ugly real fast. We should leave. Now.”
“I’m with you on that…”
I move to the trunk, open it, and take out the black sport bag full of weapons. I unzip it and select a handgun — a Beretta — and some ammo. I quickly tuck it at my back, pocket the spare mags, and pass the bag to Oscar.
“You carry this, and I’ll shoot anyone who comes near us. Deal?”
“Yes, sir…”
People begin stampeding past, away from… whatever the hell is in front of us. Until I know exactly who’s behind this and how many there are, I need to stay smart and invisible.
I crouch and signal to Oscar to do the same. “Follow my lead and stay close. Move when I do, hide when I do. We need to make it to that security firm. Nothing else matters, understand?”
He nods. “I hear you.”
“No, Oscar, listen to what I’m saying. Nothing else matters. You see innocent people in trouble, you don’t help. You don’t look, you don’t even think about it. We can’t afford to let anything stop us getting to that van. Everything depends on it.”
He takes a sharp breath, steeling himself and tensing his jaw. “Shit… I understand, Adrian. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Okay, follow me.”
I keep low, move around the driver’s side of the car, and pause level with the hood. I hear Oscar behind me. A sea of open doors and screaming people stand between us and where we need to be. A little farther on, the pickup truck is circling in the street, and the one that was chasing the military Jeeps has joined it.
I take my gun out, make sure the mag’s full, and work the slide. Safety off.
There’s a small gap between the hood of one car and the trunk of another. Crouching, I move as quickly as I can down the side of the next car, pausing again by the front wheel.
“Oh my God! Help me!”
A man’s crawling along the ground toward me, his face a crimson mask as blood gushes from a head wound above his eye.
“Please!” he insists.
I close my eyes for a second, cursing my own sense of morality and justice. Ordinarily, I would be compelled to get as many people to safety as I could. But if I don’t get to that van, it’s game over. It won’t matter how many people I save here, millions will die elsewhere.
Sometimes the greater good is a real bitch.
I look at the man next to me and place a finger on my lips. “Hey, keep quiet — you’ll attract attention to yourself.”
He shakes with emotion as he tries to keep his pleading and whimpering to a minimum.
“You got a cell phone?” I ask him.
He nods, terrified.
I hold my hand out. “Gimme.”
He reaches slowly into his pocket and hands it to me.
“Thanks. Now shut up, okay?”
I quickly dial Josh’s number. He’s probably busy, but it’s worth a shot. It rings three times.
“Hello?”
A female voice…? Huh?