Black Flagged Apex (69 page)

"Holy fucking shit! Did you see that?" he yelled.

"Brandon! Watch your mouth! What the hell is wrong with you?" his mother yelled from the front seat.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?" his father demanded, glaring at him through the rearview mirror.

"A helicopter just crossed the road at ground level. It shot a semi-truck to pieces! You have to go back!"

"I've had enough of those video games. All they do is talk about helicopters and shooting. I don't know what has gotten into you, but you can forget about that stupid video game tonight!" his mother said.

"I'm not making this up," he said, scanning the skies out of the minivan's windows.

"I don't want to hear another word from you until we reach your grandparents' house," his father said.

A few minutes later, they approached a roadblock that spanned both sides of the interstate and consisted of at least twenty police cars. Heavily armed police officers clad in camouflage and body armor removed three layers of spike strips set on the road at least fifty yards in front of the roadblock. They signaled for the minivan to proceed, and as they approached the cars, one of them moved back to let them through. His father lowered his window.

"What's going on, Officer?" he said to a trooper wearing the traditional gray Mounties hat who approached the car.

"We have a high-speed chase out of Harrisburg just past Allentown. Couple of crazies robbed a convenience store. We're expecting them soon, so I need you to move out of the area. You're clear to proceed, sir."

"Were they using helicopters to track the car?"

"What makes you say that?" the trooper asked.

"Nothing. My son thought he spotted one. Good luck, Officer."

The state trooper nodded, and the minivan eased forward.

"What kind of a helicopter did you think you saw?" his dad said.

"A massive gray helicopter with fuel pods and a nose refueling probe. Dad, I'm not kidding about this. It tore the cab to pieces," Brandon stated emphatically.

"You don't seriously believe this, do you?" his wife countered.

"I don't know," his father said. "
Something's
going on back there. Take a look in the distance."

Brandon turned his head again and saw a thick black column of smoke rising above the hills they had just driven through.

Chapter 60

8:33 PM

Wayne Memorial Hospital

Honesdale, Pennsylvania

Jessica sat up in the vinyl chair placed in Daniel's sparse hospital room. Daniel had been transferred from the emergency ward less than an hour ago, after they were reasonably sure that his condition had been stabilized. The bullet had passed through his shoulder unhindered, tearing through a few ligaments, but causing no foreseeable long-term damage. The real problem stemmed from his blood loss, which had been categorized as a Class III hemorrhage, requiring aggressive fluid resuscitation and blood transfusions immediately upon arrival. By the time she'd reached the ER, Daniel was still deep in shock and nearly incoherent. The ER doctor estimated that he had lost more than thirty percent of his blood in the "shooting accident."

She heard footsteps approaching the room and tensed slightly. Jessica's hearing had slowly improved over the past several hours, and the ringing had almost subsided, but her ears were still a long way from a full recovery. She was slightly tense, since the ER staff said that Daniel would have to provide a statement to the police. This was standard procedure for any injury involving a firearm. Fortunately, the local police were thoroughly occupied with some kind of major incident at a local business and couldn't take the statement until tomorrow. She had a plan to get him out of here before the police arrived.

Sanderson had assured them that everything had been squared away with the FBI, but they were leery of local police involvement. Neither of them was one hundred percent sure what a background check might reveal about Daniel's involvement in the regrettable incident in Silver Spring, Maryland, two years ago. Their presidential immunity agreement didn't extend to local and state government, though they had been reasonably assured that most jurisdictions would comply. Still, she'd prefer not to test those waters while Daniel was relatively immobile. A short blond nurse entered the room, holding her hand out to stop whoever had followed her.

"Hold on, gentlemen. Mrs. Petrovich? I have two FBI agents who would like to speak with you and your husband. I can request that they return tomorrow morning if you want," she said.

"My husband has had a long day. He needs to rest. I'd prefer if they came back tomorrow," she said, worried that something else had changed in D.C.

"We were sent by Deputy Director Sanderson," someone interrupted from the hallway.

She recognized Melendez's voice.

"All right. You can let them in," Jessica said.

"Are you sure?" the nurse responded.

"Very sure. Thank you for running interference," Jessica said.

"My pleasure. Go ahead, gentlemen, but if you get out of line, I'll have you removed," the nurse said, winking at Jessica.

Melendez and Munoz stepped inside the room and walked past the empty bed closest to the door. They were dressed in the same clothes they had been wearing that morning.

"You guys are getting a little brazen with the FBI badges," she said.

"We're thinking about joining the FBI. Sanderson should be able to hook that up from what I understand."

"I'm sure they'd be really happy to have you after the stunt you pulled in Stamford. Plus, the badge thing would get old really quick," Jessica said.

"Sanderson and Director Shelby apparently have an understanding," Munoz said.

"I'll believe that when I see the two of them shaking hands," Jessica said.

"How's he doing?" Melendez asked.

"Much better. He'll need some surgery to repair the ligaments damaged by the bullet, but beyond that, he should be back on his feet by tomorrow."

"Good deal. We were worried," Munoz said.

"Thank you for bringing him to the ER instead of the house. Another fifteen minutes driving around could have killed him. He'd lost too much blood at that point. The two of you are making a career out of saving our asses," she said.

"It never seems to end," Munoz said.

"You just make sure those kids of yours hear the stories about Uncle Jeff and Uncle Rico," Melendez said.

Munoz looked at him like he was crazy.

"What the fuck kind of a comment was that?" Munoz muttered.

"Do you know something I don't know?" Jessica said.

"No. I was just saying, that if they ever have kids, they should…I was just making a joke. Fuck."

"Uncle Rico and Uncle Jeff? Did we miss the wedding?" Daniel said, without opening his eyes.

"Well, there he is. Back from the dead when there's a joke to be made," Melendez said.

"Please excuse my partner…my colleague. Damn it, Melendez!" Munoz said.

"The two of you do make a nice couple," Jessica said.

Munoz shook his head. "I'm going to miss having the two of you around, despite the incessantly inappropriate humor."

"Who says we're going anywhere?" Jessica said.

"Sanderson doesn't expect you to return to Argentina," Munoz replied.

"Sanderson's right about that. I have no intention of living the rest of my life on Gilligan's Island, but I never said we were finished."

"What about kids and living a peaceful life in a nice family community? Didn't I hear you talk about that before?" Melendez said.

"In due time, Rico. We still have a few loose ends to tie up," Daniel said.

"Srecko?" Munoz said.

"Among others. Until then, nobody is allowed into our residence. We'll be back sooner than you think," Daniel said.

"Sounds good. We're going to hit the road. We have a two-hour drive to Harrisburg in a stolen Suburban packed with automatic weapons and an Osama Bin Laden look-alike. Did I mention the truck was driven by Mexicans? I'm not optimistic about our chances," Munoz said.

"I'm glad I was shot. Make sure to say thank you to Berg's guy," Daniel smirked.

"This is like the start of a bad joke. Two Hispanics, a black and an Arab meet up to trade machine guns in a Walmart parking lot," Jessica said.

They all laughed for a few moments.

"We'll see you in a little while," Jessica said.

Once they were alone, Daniel turned his head slightly and stared at Jessica.

"I need at least a solid month of vacation before heading back down to Argentina," he said.

"A month? I was thinking more like six months."

"Six months sounds nice. I assume we won't be here in the morning?"

"They're headed right back here after they deliver the weapons. The FBI will need to remove you for national security reasons. I doubt the night shift will ask any questions."

"Back to South Carolina?" he asked.

"That could work. I'm sure they have adequate medical facilities in Charleston."

She walked over and kissed his lips, staying there for a few moments before leaning back. He exhaled and closed his eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you more. Rest up. The Mexican connection will be back around one in the morning," she said.

"Two Latinos and Osama Bin Laden traveling through Pennsylvania with the nation on red alert? I hope you have a backup plan."

"I still have my badge and a few wigs in the Cherokee. You'd be surprised how persuasive I can be."

"I'm pretty sure Nurse Ratched has you pegged."

"I checked. Her shift ends at midnight."

Chapter 61

7:00 AM

FBI Headquarters

Washington, D.C.

Frederick Shelby sipped his straight black coffee and leaned back in the plush black leather executive chair behind his desk. He raised the volume until the CNN commentator's voice could be easily heard from his desk. The moment of truth was seconds away. He'd either continue his day as FBI director or be summarily dismissed by the White House. He'd already spoken with his lawyer, a good friend and senior partner at an established Washington, D.C., law firm that boasted one of the most successful and robust Public Policy and Law divisions in the country. If summoned, his lawyer would accompany him on the trip. He was apparently no stranger to the inner sanctums of the hill.

"My fellow Americans, I am pleased to inform you that the terrorist threat against our nation's public water supply has been eliminated by federal law enforcement agencies, working in close conjunction with key military units. I understand that the past week has been filled with uncertainty. This attack threatened all of us in a place we consider the safest—our very own homes. Thanks to the tireless effort and courageous sacrifice of our nation's heroes, I can assure you that your town's public water supply is safe. My administration agrees with the Department of Homeland Security's assessment that the threat has been neutralized, in all of its forms, and that your local municipality can commence regular water service effective immediately.

"I know you have many questions, and they will be answered in as much detail as possible during the upcoming weeks. Here's what I can say right now: A rogue, domestic terrorist group acquired the deadly virus from Al Qaeda operatives in the United States. Both the domestic terrorist group and the Al Qaeda cells involved have been neutralized. This represents a major law enforcement victory, in that Al Qaeda's operations in the United States have been destroyed. We'll release more information about the domestic terrorist group in the weeks ahead, though it appears that most of the group was killed or captured during counterterrorism operations yesterday. On a somber note, I can confirm that this group successfully detonated a suicide bomb at the National Counterterrorism Center on the evening of the 28
^th
, killing 26 people and injuring 62 more. This attack was directed against the task force actively engaged in hunting them down.

"The FBI, supported by the White House and the Department of Justice, will conduct a thorough investigation of the events leading up to the attack, and the declassified results will be released to the public when they have been assembled. I'd ask that you join me in a moment of reflection for the men and women who gave up their lives safeguarding ours."

The president bowed his head, and Shelby followed suit.

"God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America," the president said.

He turned off the flat-screen monitor mounted on the wall in front of his desk and folded his hands. He was impressed with the president. No direct mention of the bottled water conspiracy or the final targets. Police officers successfully stopped the convoy approaching Philadelphia, without killing the driver, who identified the Chinese embassy as the target of the southernmost convoy. Delivery paperwork and a preprogrammed GPS confirmed the driver's statement. New York City Emergency Services officers stopped the second Manhattan convoy at the News Corporation Building, just as Shelby had predicted.

The last convoy's destination remained unknown, since the lead truck was destroyed after a Special Operations helicopter fired over one hundred rounds of 7.62mm ammunition into the cab, causing the rig to swerve off the road and explode. He still wasn't sure exactly why the president had authorized General Gordon to obliterate the truck and destroy critical evidence, but figured it had something to do with his dramatic departure from the Oval Office. Both the president and Jacob Remy looked panicked by his final outburst. The destruction of the truck represented one less piece of evidence connecting the plot to Greely's splinter group, which didn't support the White House's spin against True America. It didn't really matter. The FBI would go to excruciating lengths to investigate the events and provide a concise, detailed account of how Greely's cabal had acquired biological weapons from Al Qaeda and come so close to successfully executing their wild plan.