‘I wouldn’t stare at him like that you know.’ states the dark pregnant women. Her deep brown eyes are comforting to the man as he snaps out of his intense surveillance and is welcomed with her melodic tone and safe eyes.
‘I’m not staring’ explains the man
‘You could have fooled me’ she says softly
‘I wasn’t, trust me. I was planning. Situations like this have to be thought out. There’s only one of him. It’s going to take a lot more than an AK to stop me.’
The woman shakes her head in fear as she eyeballs the man., her face telling him not to be a hero, but her heart saying otherwise.
Seventy Three
Officer Mullins is leaning against the wall next to Chief Shaw’s office door. He is staring at the name engraved on the foggy glass. He takes a deep breath in and knocks on the door with two swift heavy thumps. A muffled voice on the other end acknowledges the knock. He opens the door and is met by a bruised Chief Shaw. Shaw is holding a tissue to his bloodied nose. He nods at Mullins, holding his hand out pointing towards the seat facing his desk. Mullins takes the invitation and sits down overlooking the Chief’s brown chair. Shaw plods along the width of the room and pours himself a drink. He looks at Mullins. Mullins shakes his head, declining the two fingers of whisky. Shaw makes his way back behind his desk. He sighs deeply and sits down, chugging heavily on the whisky as he removes the bloodied tissue from his nose.
‘What happened?’ Asks Mullins
Shaw smiles while taking another sip on his tall glass.
‘We found Frank’
‘Okay, I gathered that. After all that’s why I’m still here and not out on a search party leading my convoy. I mean, what happened to you sir?’
‘We found Frank that’s what happened.’
‘Frank did that to you?’
‘Yes. That’s beside the point though; we need you and your men to form an extraction team. You will be working with Frank. You will follow his lead and go into the M.I.T building and rescue the hostages. Any resistance you encounter must be met with lethal action. You have my permission to use whatever means are necessary at securing the safety of everyone in the building.’
‘So we are a go on this then? Washington agreed to the extraction team?’
‘Not exactly, I’m still working on that. I’m scheduled to have a conference call with the secretary of defence in a few minutes. I will run the plan through with him and see if we have the go ahead. I need you to be ready with your team so if they comply with our plan then we can execute it immediately.’
‘Understood Sir’
‘Good. Meet with Frank down the parking lot. They are setting up another convoy down there.’
‘Okay’
Mullins gets up from his chair. He turns around to walk towards the door. He stops dead and faces Shaw once again.
‘What?’ Asks Shaw
‘So you told him about his brother Adam?’
Shaw pours himself another drink with the spare bottle on his desk. He takes a sip and evens his eyes towards Mullins direction.
‘No I did not. The guy is a loose cannon. He did this to my face for breaking his balls. Imagine what he will do if I break his heart and tell him his brother bit the bullet. Not to mention that it will affect his performance in the coming hours. I don’t want him going on some revenge mission for his brother.’
‘With all due respect sir, I think he’s already set at making Chase pay.’
‘He’ll get over Tasha, he’s just mad because he got found out. McKenzie has only ever loved one woman. She was killed ten years ago, not ten hours.’
‘If you say so’
‘I do say so. Now get going and keep your nose out of his business. Now scram!’
Seventy Four
‘Look I’m off to the can. Radio me when that ass hole manages to get down here.’ says Frank making his way up the stairwell of the parking lot striding up the staircase in a hurry.
He reaches the door to the main floor. He opens it and makes his way down the corridor. He watches as officers walk past him, each of them acknowledging him with a look of respect. Some even borderline fear. Frank enjoys the reputation. He thrives off his it. He carries on walking down the sparsely lit hallway. He finally reaches the toilets. He opens it and walks up to the urinal. He unzips his fly and relaxes. He hears something. He looks around and sees nothing. The cubicles are all vacant. He carries on. He feels something grab him by the back of the head. It forces him face down into the dirty urinal at a blinding speed. He feels his face crack against the ceramic. The force busts his nose open. He tries to draw breath. He can’t, the urinal flushes and water makes its way into his mouth. He chokes hard on the salty thick water. Struggling to breath he wriggles for room. His clothes drenched with water, he manages to escape the grip. Once again his head is slammed into the urinal, seconds after he is thrown in to the tiled wall. Fragments of tile chip off at the impact, the crack in the wall is caked in Frank’s blood as he is knocked to the ground. He hits the cold sticky floor with a thud. His vision goes dark. He tries to open his eyes. He hears the bathroom door creak open and then buckle back shut. He manages to catch a glimpse of the door shutting; it’s a mere shadow in the darkened room. The door slams open once again. Footsteps rush towards him as he is grabbed by someone.
‘Officer down I repeat Officer down in the first floor toilets, requesting medical assistance.’ The voice says. Frank feels the man grabbing his head and resting it on his knees.
‘You okay Frank, can you hear me?’ Asks the man
Frank can’t respond. His head is a rife with pain as he tries to open his eyes.
‘Frank look at me, can you hear me?’ Frank musters a brief nod as he attempts to stay conscious.
Seventy Five
The view from above is distorted by the fish eye effect of the rifle’s scope. The reporters are still down on the ground, surrounding the area like a sea of snapping fish. The flashes from the cameras are causing a lens flare to appear on the northern end of the scope. The man in the suit sighs in frustration as he pans the distance waiting for his mark. He looks down on the ground and flicks through his PDA, pulling up various bits of information. He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a metal rod. He attaches it to the PDA using a jack. He points the rod up towards the sky, a few feet over his head. He looks down and sees the reading.
“12 Miles per hour wind speed. Southern quarterly dip” It reads.
He detaches the rod and puts it back into his Jacket pocket. He switches a button on the PDA and presses his finger into his ear.
‘This is Romeo 171. Wind speed and direction is as we calculated. The arrival of tango one is estimated in less than ten minutes. The target will be arriving from the east. The shot will dip in the wind but nothing that I can’t handle. We are a go; I repeat we are a go.’ Says the man
‘Affirmative’ replies the musty voice on the radio.
The man unclips his ear piece and puts it back in his suit pocket. He takes aim once more. He peers through the powerful scope, his finger resting on the side of the rifle. He pans to the east and sees a convoy approach in the hot sun in the distance. The image blurry from his position, he winds the scope in. The image stabilizes as he sees the four car convoy approach. The American flags attached to the cars are rippling in the wind as he breaths in and cocks the bolt back, his breathing turns slow and heavy as he watches the cars approach in the distance. He looks down at his PDA and pushes a button. A timer starts counting down from seven minutes. He watches the timer intently as a roar from the crowd bellow erupts at the approaching president of the United States of America.