"Last time, we were fifty feet off the ground."
"Yeah, well there was that."
Starr looked below. He could clearly see the silver outline of a commercial jet perhaps ten thousand feet below, which they were overtaking quickly. "Man, J. C., we're really moving, that commercial liner below looks slow."
"If it wasn't for their radar, they'd never know we were here. They'll think we're military."
"They won't see us?"
"Probably not, but if they do, we'll just be a spot in the sky."
The DPO jet was just starting its descent into Knoxville when Phillips called Styles and Starr back to her workstation.
"I've got some updated info on the attack. Three shoulder-fired missiles were apparently fired from a fishing trawler tied up to a pier a couple of miles from the Baltimore Museum of Industry, where the president was headed for the celebration for Maryland's governor. It's believed two suspects got off the boat and escaped using scuba gear and underwater scooters. Get this: it looks like one of them was accidentally hooked by a fisherman who had a line out from a charter boat. A guy reeled in the body, called the cops, and the agencies at the scene put it together. It looks like they're on top of things for once."
Starr looked at her and said, "Hooked? Like on a fishhook?"
"Yeah. Got him in the shoulder," she replied, shaking her head. "They're working like mad to ID him, but so far, no luck."
"Who'd you have to hack to get this?" Starr asked.
"Surprisingly enough, no one; it came from DPO. Merritt said that for now, everything is staying status quo. Guess we'll see how long that lasts."
Styles spoke up. "How do we handle this new arrangement with him?"
"We don't. I'll take care of it. I have to consider whether to resign from DPO or not. It could serve us better if I remain. He thinks I work from home, anyway."
Styles merely nodded.
She continued, "There are three decent motels within ten miles of Ryyaki Ali's estate. How do you want to work this?"
Starr looked at Styles and then answered, "Two rooms in two of them. Get us four vehicles, SUVs."
"See if you can get me a Jeep. Dark green if possible," Styles interjected.
"On it soon as I've gone over this," Phillips responded.
"Here's what I've come up with. And right upfront I'm going to tell you a lot of this is no more than an educated guess. This Rijah Ellhad seems to be the key. Like I said before, Iraqi national, former Republican Guard, now not much more than a mercenary." She passed them three photographs each. "Here are some pretty good head shots; the third is from the camping store, so that's only a week and a half old."
Styles remarked, "He's got what we used to call 'dead' eyes, eyes of a stone-cold killer."
"Just what I thought," agreed Phillips. "The middle photograph is a falsified passport photo, name of Jason Daniels. Can't believe that didn't get flagged. The first is where we get lucky. There is a restaurant called Marroni's; apparently, he likes Italian food. This restaurant has been robbed five times in two years, so they put a high-end security system in. It's linked into Portland PD's database, which is how I got it. Every person who enters is on video; he's shown up there six times in the last two weeks. I can't figure out if he's careless or what. No one who does this shit should be keeping any kind of a regular routine."
Styles spoke up. "The Republican Guard was an arrogant bunch. They actually believed they were the best military outfit in the world. I'd bet the arrogance hasn't left."
Starr nodded.
"This restaurant is only about twelve miles from that estate I was telling you about. My money says that ties him in hard," stated Phillips with conviction.
"Not taking that bet," replied Starr. "So now what?"
"Two things," answered Styles. "First, we all start eating Italian food, two at a time. Second, we put our own camera at the entrance so we can observe when we're not there. I'm going to recon that estate. When he shows up, we follow and hopefully recover that toxin. Then I take them out."
Phillips was still amazed at just how easily Styles could say that. "How many do you think there might be?"
"It doesn't matter. Space in the county morgue isn't my problem."
Styles, Phillips, and Christman were seated around the large dining room table located in what was referred to as the great room in the Ranch. They had made excellent time on their rushed flight from Oregon. Neither Styles nor Phillips had spoken much during the trip, Phillips busy on her computers, Styles lost in thought.
Starr came walking in from his bedroom with a large sealed briefcase. After setting it on the table, he addressed the others. "The president gave me this right after Indianapolis. He was clear it was only to be opened if something happened that prevented him from carrying out his duties as president. I was to open it with you guys."
He cut the seal with his folding pocketknife and, with a sigh, opened it. On top lay a manila envelope addressed to all four. He unclasped the envelope and removed a couple of sheets of paper.
"This is addressed to all of us." He read the contents aloud.
Richard,
It is unfortunate that you are reading this because it means that I have been disabled. I have something to ask you and your group that is extremely hard, but something I believe is critical to the safety of our country. I urge you to strongly consider my request. In my mind, there is no doubt of the importance of the work you four perform in service to our country. It must continue. One cannot compete if one's opponent plays by a separate set of rules, even worse when no rules at all are observed. That is what we face with the Taliban, al-Qaeda, Hamas, ISIS, and the rest of the zealots that are trying to destroy our way of life.
With the demise of Andrew Ladd, no one but me knows of your existence. It has to stay that way. Vice President Lamar will not sanction your actions. He may keep the DPO in place, but your group will be dissolved. You cannot allow that to happen. The only way I see that you can maintain your status is to go underground. Christman and Phillips will have to sever their ties with the military and DPO. This should be easy for Christman, as he may retire at any time. Not so easy with Phillips; however, since you are a civilian, this should not be overly difficult. I believe that if you stay with DPO, your real position may be compromised, but I leave that decision to you.
You will also be required to determine your targets. You know what I expected; continue and, if necessary, expand. Remember, it is the security of our country that is the basis for your existence. You as a group will decide. You four are the only ones I would trust with this immeasurable responsibility. In this briefcase, you will find everything you will ever need to perform your duties. There are also signed presidential pardons for all of you. Bear in mind they would be worthless outside our boundaries. I know what I am asking of you. If I had any doubt that you were not up to the task, I would not ask. You have my utmost faith to take this fight to our enemies, to use whatever means you decide is necessary. I must remind you that no innocents are to be involved. That is my only condition. Trust no one in your quest. Do what must be done. Please, protect our great country. May God look over you.
Robert Williams, President of the United States
Starr looked up to see no one looking at him. The three were completely focused on what he had just read. He took a quick look at what else the briefcase contained. After a minute, he placed the contents back inside and then looked up to see the others now staring at him.