“Thank-you for your trust,” Peter said sarcastically, holding the flashlight, its beam redirected on the case. “Go ahead, open it,” looking over at his own weapon only a meter away.
The helicopter that Michael Forsythe and his team appropriated happened to be one of the Navy’s latest Seahawk’s, fresh from the Sikorsky manufacturing line and delivered only a week earlier. Coming straight off the manufacturing line, it still lacked any of its associated weaponry or anti-submarine avionics, providing additional room for Forsythe, Thomson, and Rocco to ride along in relative comfort.
Luckily for Forsythe the helicopter was on a flight training exercise out of Patuxent River Naval Air Station and operating in nearby airspace when ordered to Washington DC. It landed on the Washington mall within 30 minutes of the FBI helicopter being stolen and took off within seconds of Forsythe’s team boarding.
Flying the helicopter was newly minted Navy Lieutenant Anson West and Commander Tubby Half. Being fresh out of Navy helicopter flight school, Lieutenant West required 55 hours of flight time before he could be considered qualified to be a Seahawk pilot in charge.
Due to the unforeseen circumstances, the helicopter and its pilots both operated under the command of Forsythe, those on direct orders of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, they having been recently briefed on the weapons existence.
Forsythe provided the pilots with their new priority, allowing them to put the helicopters advertised speed to the test. Hopefully they would arrive in time to prevent a potential disaster from unraveling.
With the Presidents aircraft, Air Force One, already alerted to the emerging situation, it was diverted back to Andrews Air Force Base. The base also contained an emergency bunker which was built in the 1950’s to withstand a direct, low-grade, nuclear attack and was now being put to use as the nations new command post until the event passed.
Forsythe had alerted the FBI’s Philadelphia office while in-route to the situation and ordered his fellow agents to clear the immediate area surrounding the Fort. He also informed them that they were not to approach anywhere within 500 yards of the Fort itself. That prize was to be reserved for himself and his ad hoc team. They would take the suspect down.
“Sir, we are approaching the Philadelphia International Airport,” said the Navy Commander as he pointed out the pulsing white runway lights just ahead. “We have been given complete control of the Philadelphia Airspace by the airports control tower sir. It’s your call.”
“Commander, proceed down to the far eastern edge of the airport where we are supposed to have a car waiting for us,” Forsythe said, removing his weapon and checking its status, indicating for Jim and Rocco to do the same.
“It’s time gentlemen. Lock and load.”
The night vision gear was an ideal asset for Igor as he maneuvered the Forts manicured dirt trail, careful to avoid the moats muddy bank on his right-hand side. He had his weapon positioned in front of him, ready for any unforeseen dangers as he approached what appeared to be a sharp turn in the Forts structure. Positioning himself flat against the Forts brick wall, he was able to peer around its edge with his awkward head mounted gear, not wanting to be surprised by anyone on the other side. Taking a quick 5-second glimpse, Igor was able to view two men, one with a flashlight standing above another man in an apparent hole no more than 20 meters away.
So I see he has help, Igor thought, peering once again around the wall, this time for a few seconds more. With him able to clearly see the area around him and any potential pitfalls that the terrain provided, Igor decided to make his way towards the figures position. Luckily for him, Igor was able to view the figures clearly due to the subject’s flashlight providing the illumination source for his night vision gear, enhancing the view usually relied upon the moons light to provide daylight viewing conditions.
Carefully maneuvering close enough to overhear the men’s conversation involving money and a metal case, Igor realized he had acquired his rebel. The chase was about to reach a climatic end. The other man with him was apparently a newfound accomplice or quite possibly a buyer, not that it mattered for they were both about to meet their respective God. This was not a situation where prisoners are to be accorded the rights of the Geneva Convention.
Igor took advantage of the animated discussion to quietly approach his subjects, positioning himself behind an old oak tree for security, fixing his weapon on the uniformed man standing over the hole.
Taking a deep breath, Igor readied for battle once more, before announcing himself. “If you would both stop what you are doing, I can remove that case you are arguing over and be on my way.”
The security guard was caught off balance from the unexpected appearance of the person behind him, turning quickly in response to the intrusion, his weapon making the turn before his body.
Igor had no choice but to shoot before the man chose to shoot first, able to squeeze off one quick shot from his weapon, the bullet propelling forward where it entered Tom’s chest cavity, killing him instantly and the momentum tossing his body rearward towards Peter. Unfortunately, the sudden flash from Igor’s weapon temporarily blinded him due to his night vision gear magnifying any light source. It was as if a flashbulb had just illuminated directly in his eyes.
With the weapons sudden discharge, Peter saw an opportunity to take advantage of the situation and retrieve his own weapon. Searching the murky darkness, Peter located it opposite his shovel. Quickly retrieving it and rolling back into the hole he had dug, removing the safety. The area’s sudden popularity was starting to alarm Peter as he lay with his back braced against the fresh earthen wall, ready to repel the new invader.
Igor removed the night vision headgear, throwing the delicate electronic piece carelessly to the ground, blinking several times in a fight to clear his vision of the effects of the guns sudden flash. Feeling foolish; he of all people should have realized the blinding effects provided by the weapon’s discharge on the night vision gear. Standing out in the open, he suddenly realized he was a sitting duck, falling flat to the ground, his weapon pointing towards where he had last saw Peter.
Peter was trapped. That much he realized. His immediate choices were fast appearing grim. The hole he had just dug was now taking on some resemblance of a grave. If this newcomer had any company with him, they could easily surround Peter’s position due to the Forts wall being on one side and the river on the other. There was only one chance of escape — Peter had to kill whoever was out there. Leaning out of his hole, Peter fired a shot in the general direction of the man in front of him, the shot echoing loudly through the night’sair. At least that might postpone a charge towards his somewhat defensible position — with the outsider now realizing he was armed.
Igor instinctively ducked his head, hugging the ground even more if it were possible, and the bullet ricocheting off the Forts brick wall before embedding into the dirt in front of him. Peter aimed his own 9mm and placed a shot into the pile of dirt in front of Peter, the weapons noise being the only sound in the darkness besides the whirling blades of a helicopter landing somewhere off in the distance.
“Why don’t you give up and come out with your hands up, surrender before I have to kill you,” Igor yelled, hoping he wasn’t killed himself by some errant bullet.
Looking to his left, Peter could see that the Titanium case was easily within his arms reach. He could pull it into the hole and code the weapon for an immediate detonation. That would enable him to still accomplish his mission. He would die a martyr’s death.
Looking to the east, Peter realized the time had come. Positioning himself for a rapid 2 shot burst to keep the other man off guard — Peter leaned up and out of his hole, firing before grabbing the case, sliding it onto his lap. This would be his grave.