The clock was ticking — he had 30 minutes to prevent a nightmare from happening.
A five-meter long wood bridge led to Fort Mifflin’s sole entrance, echoing Peter’s heavy footsteps as he crossed. The bridge itself stood over a 4-meter wide moat that looked to dependant on the generosity of the Delaware Rivers tide to provide the Forts protection, currently exposing its muddy bottom. Hate to slip in there, he thought, careful to avoid its steep banks. Looking up at the Revolutionary War era Forts imposing brick structure then from side-to-side, Peter noticed that it was built in a pentagonal shape similar to a brick structure that was located outside of his hometown of Sergov.
The Forts massive wooden doors were locked and bolted for the night, providing some sense of reassurance to Peter. The last thing he needed was some unsuspecting soul lurking on the Forts exterior. He knew the guards would only worry about its treasured interior. So he should be safe on the outside. Peter followed the narrow dirt footpath that ran between the Fort and its moat, allowing it to lead him to where the Forts brick façade turned into an earthen wall of the about the same height. The earthen wall was originally built to withstand enemy ships cannon blasts, absorbing the cannon balls in its soft, ruddy earth so they couldn’t penetrate to the forts interior.
The Forts earthen edge was located a mere 20 meters from the banks of the Delaware Rivers. Appropriately for Peter, this would also be his starting point. Looking from side-to-side for his bearings, Peter positioned himself on the Forts southwestern corner. He walked in a straight line 5 meters from the forts edge, pacing off the distance as he walked towards both the moat and the river. Peter could see and feel a minor depression in the earth where he stopped counting off his steps, 1-meter from the edge of the moat. This is it, he said excitedly eyeing his watch to make sure he was still on schedule. Satisfied he still had plenty of time, he placed the shovel into the soft ground to remove the first spade full of earth.
From his perch above the Forts earthen wall, Tom Giacono sat on his rocker, gazing between the pleasure craft heading in for the night and the majestic sunset. What a fantastic day to be alive, hoping his wife had the same view from their homes back porch. Where else could I actually get paid to work and have a view like this? He looked at his watch before rising up from his rocker in order to perform his hourly rounds.
Stretching his legs due to his sitting so long, Tom tried to work out a leg cramp. He tried jogging in place for several moments to no avail. He should have listened to his wife and taken some additional potassium pills. Damn if she wasn’t right again. Deciding it was best just to walk it off. Moving towards the edge of the Forts earthen edge, he heard a sharp metallic noise somewhere below. It sounded as if someone was digging and had struck a rock.
Tom had been warned by his supervisor about history buffs who scoured the grounds around historic battle sites with metal detectors, searching for items of value to sell to collectors on E-bay, hoping to make a quick buck or two.
Tom walked to the Forts earthen edge to view over the wall, careful not to lose his footing and avoid a 20-foot drop. With a clear, unobstructed view all the way to the river, he was afforded an excellent vantage point. Looking both ways he could see nothing as the sun’s light faded into night. Having heard numerous accounts of ghost soldiers coming back to visit the place of their deaths, Tom discounted their stories as “hogwash,” for the tourists. No, he had definitely heard something close-by and it was not a figment of his imagination nor supernatural in nature. Walking the remaining 50 feet over to the western side of the Fort, he leaned over where the brick edge met the earthen portion of the Fort. He scanned from north to south, peering into the night’s twilight.
Another sharp metallic click was heard. This time it was off to his left, enabling him to now narrow the focus of his search to a specific area. His eyes getting older and not being what they were 50 years before, it took time for Tom to notice movement below him and towards the edge of the moat. Focusing more intently on the shadowy figure before him, he could see it was a man digging in a pit, a pile of dirt in evidence beside him. Tom backed away from the edge not wanting to alarm the man. He instinctively reached for his 38 caliber Smith & Wesson snub nose, opening its barrel and inserting six bullets from his pocket where they were mixed with his spare change. Tom always carried the weapon empty, trying to avoid an accidental shooting if he tripped or fell.
Quickly making his way down the forts interior steps, Tom maneuvered carefully among the Forts stationary displays, making his way to the Forts only entrance and exit, the front gate.
Sliding back the 200-year old lock which essentially employed a six foot wooden beam as its main deterrent, Tom was able to crack open the door to peer outside. He looked from side-to-side to see if there was a lookout in place, having heard during training lectures that they operated in pairs. Observing the illuminated parking lot off to his right, he spied another car beside his own. He even had the nerve to park beside me!
Slipping through the open door, Tom pulled it shut as best he could, this accomplished with no exterior lock in place. Carefully maneuvering up the Forts living history trail to where he last saw the shadow of a man digging, fingering his weapon as he walked. Tom was ready, nervous, but ready.
The digging proceeded at a fairly rapid pace with the ground still soft from the previous night’s rain. The soils content had the consistently of a good Irish peat moss, with the dirt lifting up as though it had wings attached to it. After 60 minutes of digging, his shovel struck something metallic, a hollow ping its announcement. He excitedly tossed aside the shovel, looking up at the Forts ramparts to see if anyone else had overheard the sound. Sensing no movement, Peter resumed digging, only now with his calloused hands. He had no desire to damage the suitcase’s exterior with the metal shovel.
An additional five minutes of simply moving the soft earth aside provided him with the outline of a suitcase, digging along its sides until he was able to locate its titanium handle. A smile crept across his face as he yanked the case from its earthen grave. The very case that was first placed there by a KGB agent some 35 years earlier, an excitement crept through Peter as if a child opening presents on Christmas Day. Placing the case beside his freshly dug pile of earth, instinctively checking his watch he could see that he still had 20 minutes till the president’s aircraft landed. If he could set the weapon and arrange the timer to explode in 15 minutes, he could still manage to escape. The president would still be in the ceremonial process of greeting various dignitaries on the airports tarmac, this before heading downtown for his speech at Philadelphia’s prestigious Union Club.
But if Peter ran out of time and could not escape, he would become a martyr to his people.
Negotiating the crowd was slow at best until a police officer took pity on seeing Igor’s car surrounded by a sea of people swarming his auto from both sides. The officer waded into the crowd blowing his whistle as he went, able to clear a path for his car, allowing him to proceed on his way. Igor provided a casual salute to the officer in response as he drove past, thanking him for the kind gesture.
Once past the anxious crowd, Igor drove the remaining 2-kilometers to the Forts entrance. The road was devoid of traffic with everyone concentrating on the President’s arrival. Turning off his cars headlights before he actually turned into the Forts entrance, he didn’t need a potential lookout to identify him. With this in mind, he wisely chose to park just off the airport’s perimeter road and out of view. Igor would walk the last hundred meters or so. It would provide him with a chance to reconnoiter the lay of the land, always important before any assault. Exiting his car, he proceeded to his trunk and his arsenal, removing 2 grenades, night vision goggles and his 9mm. He was ready for battle.