Designated Survivor (13 page)

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Authors: John H. Matthews

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“I do.”

“Any questions?” Arrington said.

“Yeah. What’s next?”

“There’s a car waiting outside for you,” Arrington said. “It will take you to a private airstrip where a plane will transport you to the farm. You’ll be there until you’re ready for us.” The Central Intelligence Agency maintains a large area of land called The Farm near Williamsburg, Virginia used to train its clandestine operators.

“And after that?”

“After that you’ll work with several other teams to prepare you,” Arrington said. “Then you’ll come back to me. If at any time any one of the people training you informs me you aren’t making it, you’ll be dropped off at a train station with a one-way ticket wherever you want to go.”

“Won’t happen.”

“I like your confidence,” Arrington said. “You’ll never come back here, you know.”

“Fine with me. Nothing left for me here.”

Derek Arrington nodded his head. He knew the young man’s story well. His mother had died when he was only three and his father was doing a life sentence at Parcham Farm after killing a young mother and her children in a drunken car crash.

“Shall we?” The man stood.

They walked out the front door of the building. Two black cars were waiting out front with several men in black suits nearby. They stopped beside the first car.

“One more thing,” Arrington said. “You’re giving up your identity. Nobody can be able to track you to your former self, starting right here, right now. You get to pick what you’re called, unless you prefer we do that for you.”

He looked around then up at the sign by the road then at the building they’d been in then back to the NSA director.

“Grace,” he said.

“Okay. Is that a first name or a last name?” Arrington said.

“Just . . . Grace.”

Arrington nodded. “I like it. Most of the guys go over the top.” He opened the car door and let the newly named Grace in and closed the door. The window buzzed down.

“I’ll see you soon,” Grace said

“I hope so,” Arrington said. “I have big plans for you.”

Grace looked out the back window as the car pulled away. He looked at the tall man who’d just hired him to work as a spy for the National Security Agency and at the sign in front of the building behind him for Grace Emmanuel Methodist Church.

 

 

CHAPTER 20

Grace’s phone vibrated and he glanced at the screen then turned and went back inside and down the stairs from the roof. He tapped the code into the keypad, and entered the room where Ben Murray was working.

“What is it?” Grace said.

“I’m going through call histories for the Secret Service officers while researching that construction company you found the shirts for,” Ben said.

“Multi-tasking? You might have to show the rest of the team what that is,” Grace said.

“I’ve found several more matching numbers,” Ben said.

“You trace them?”

“Sure did,” Ben said. “And one is still pinging.”

“What?” Grace said.

“It’s active and on the move right now,” Ben said. He pulled up a map on the larger of the two flat screens connected to his computer. A red circle would update every few seconds as it moved through Washington DC. At it’s latest refresh it was tracking down Massachusetts Avenue past the rows of embassies.

Grace pulled his phone, dialed then spoke when Netty answered. “Two fast cars, ready for anything, leaving in two minutes.” He hung up.

He walked to a shelf on the other side of the room and grabbed some equipment and put it on Ben’s desk.

“Gonna need you to stay here,” Grace said. “We’re going to go find that phone. Here’s an earpiece and a radio. Be on with us to tell us where to go.”

Grace walked out of the room and took the stairs down two at a time. As he reached the garage, Netty and Avery were already pulling a pair of cars outside.

“What’s up?” Holden said.

“We’re going hunting,” Grace said.

Grace walked over to the red Cadillac sedan and climbed in the passenger seat beside Netty.

“You know I hate red cars,” Grace said.

“Yup,” she said.

Holden and Corbin were in the backseat. Netty hit the gas and started down the dirt trail away from the building. Behind her a Mercedes E350 with Avery at the wheel followed, Chip beside him and Levi in back. The cars hit the paved road, turned left and accelerated.

“Head to northwest, Embassy Row,” Grace said. He tapped the button on his radio. “Ben, you get wired yet?”

“I did,” Ben said.

“Is the signal still on the move?”

“It is,” Ben said. “Took a right on Nebraska, headed north.”

Grace glanced to his left to see if Netty heard. She gave a slight nod and sped up.

“Ben, see if you can patch into the city traffic cameras,” Grace said. “I want to know what car to look for before we’re right on top of it.”

“Will do,” Ben said.

Grace’s body slammed into the passenger door as Netty took a hard left, swearing out loud as she did.

“What the hell?” Grace said. “We need to be going the other direction.”

“Everything near the mall is shut down because of the explosion,” Netty said. “It’ll be faster to cross the river.”

“When is it ever faster to go into Virginia?” Grace said.

“Just trust me,” she said.

“Stay up with us, Avery,” Grace said.

“I’m right behind you, Chief,” Avery said. “She’s not gonna lose me.”

The cars merged onto 395 and crossed into Virginia then exited and headed up the Potomac on the George Washington Memorial Parkway past the Pentagon and Arlington Cemetery. She led them onto Highway 66 and across the Roosevelt Bridge back into Washington DC.

“Through downtown, really?” Grace said.

She took the E Street exit on the left then turned right to get onto Rock Creek Parkway. A line of cars was stopped to make the difficult turn across traffic. Netty put the car far left into the empty oncoming lane, her right hand on the horn. Avery followed. At the front of the line she cut off a Miata and made the right onto the Parkway.

“Ben, where is it?” Grace said.

“Still headed up Nebraska in traffic,” Ben said. “Just got into the cameras and am waiting for the phone signal to hit the intersection at Connecticut.”

“Big intersection, might not be able to ID which car,” Grace said.

“I’ll compare to the cars at the next corner,” Ben said.

Netty had them speeding up Rock Creek Parkway then took the right exit onto Beach Drive. The curving two-lane road kept them right through the middle of the long park. She would move left into the oncoming lane of traffic to pass cars that got in her way. Without notice she cranked the wheel and turned right onto Blagden Avenue

“Where are you going?” Grace said. “You’re headed east.”

“So are they. They’re just going the long way around,” Netty said. “They’re probably following a GPS that keeps them on primary roads. We can close the distance using the secondary roads.”

“Grace,” Ben’s voice came into the team’s ears. “The cellphone signal turned right on Military. Comparing to the cars at the last light it looks like it’s a white Range Rover with dip plates.”

“Shit,” Grace said. “Had to be a diplomat. What country?”

“Looking it up . . . ”

“What are the first two letters?” Grace said.

“DM,” Ben said.

“Double shit,” Grace said. “Iran. Okay. Let me know if they turn. We’re headed east on Blagden. You can tap into the GPS on my phone to track us.”

“Already did,” Ben said. “The Range Rover will hit 16
th
in a few minutes if they keep moving. You won’t be far behind if you hang a left on 16
th
and get north as fast as you can.”

Netty glanced at the Mercedes driven by Avery behind her then hit the gas and began passing every car. Cars swerved right to avoid hitting her head on, a taxi went off the road and up into the trees.

“Just got a visual at 16
th
,” Ben said. “The Rover turned north, but I don’t think it’s alone.”

“What do you mean?” Grace said.

“There were two other SUVs following when it made the right onto Military, and they’re still in tow,” Ben said.

“Dip plates on the SUVs?” Grace said.

Netty ran the stop sign at 16
th
and turned left to head north.

“Negative, running them now . . ..” There was a pause as the analyst put the tag numbers through the computer to find the owner. “Rentals. Both dark grey Suburbans, tinted windows.”

“Okay. We might have shooters,” Grace said. “How far back are we?”

“Only a few blocks now,” Ben said.  “They’re stopped at a red light at Holly. You should be almost on them by them time the light turns green.”

Grace scanned the split four-lane road ahead of them that ran through an upscale neighborhood. Large colonial red brick and new construction modern homes lined the right side of the road facing Rock Creek Park.

“I see them,” Netty said.

She let off the gas and moved into the right lane behind a minivan.

“Avery, back off a little,” Grace said. “Don’t want to look like we’re together. Let’s just hang back and see where this parade takes us.”

Netty kept four to five car lengths behind the grey Suburbans and Avery another few cars behind her. The white Range Rover led them north into Maryland and turned right onto Colesville Road through Silver Spring.

They continued northeast for 15 minutes until they were into the outer suburbs where strip malls and neighborhoods were more spread out.

“Where are you going?” Grace said. He watched out the windows at the gas stations and box stores as they drove past.

“Chief, look,” Netty said.

Grace turned forward and saw the trailing Suburban signal then turn right off of the main road.

“Want me to follow?” Avery said from behind them.

“No, let’s stick together,” Grace said. “Hopefully just means less people to deal with.”

Another mile down the road and the Range Rover turned right, the remaining Suburban following it. Netty backed off and took the turn. There were far fewer cars to hide behind on the smaller road.

“See why I hate red cars?” Grace said. “Too easy to spot.”

Netty hit the brakes as the Suburban in front of them stopped, leaving only thirty feet in between. The Range Rover kept moving.

“What the fuck,” Grace said. He pounded his hand on the dashboard. “Okay. Go around. Punch it.”

She did as she was told and put the pedal down on the powerful V8 engine in the Cadillac. Just as the car began accelerating and she started moving into the left lane to pass the SUV, all four doors of the Suburban opened and men climbed out and raised guns at the front of the Cadillac.

“Shit!” Netty stopped hard and everyone inside the car ducked as they worked to get their weapons out.

The first bullets hit the windshield and Grace covered his face in anticipation of the shattered glass. Instead of traveling through the windows, the gunshots caused a series of loud thuds. Grace looked up and saw the shots striking the glass and stopping.

“It’s armored?” Grace said.

“How do you like red cars now?” Netty said.

“Go!” Grace said. “The glass won’t hold much longer.” The spider webs of cracks were already beginning to appear as more bullets struck them.

Netty sat up and pressed her foot to the floor. The rear tires of the sedan squealed as they took off. One of the gunman dove to the right to avoid being hit and she struck a second man square on, his body rolling over the top of the car. Holden turned in his seat and watched the man hit the ground behind them as the remaining men fired at the Cadillac.

“Avery, you back there?” Grace said.

“I’m a block over,” Avery said. “We saw it start to go down and made a turn to get around in front to help. We’ll be there in a minute.”

“We got through,” Grace said. “Let’s just catch up to the Range Rover.”

The sound of crunching metal and screeching tires came through the radio earpiece.

“Avery, what’s going on?”

 

CHAPTER 21

As Avery watched down side streets to cut back over and help the rest of the team, the second grey Suburban came up behind the Mercedes he was driving, moved to the right, and then bumped the rear corner of the large black car. Avery spun his wheel left to try to compensate, but it was too late and the German sedan was sent spinning. As it came around to face the Suburban, the rear end crashed into a car parked on the side of the road and the airbags exploded open into their faces then collapsed.

The engine died and Avery was pushing the start button over and over to try to get the motor to turn over again. The Suburban stopped 15 yards from them.

“Everybody out,” Avery said. “Let’s take them down.”

Chip already had his rifle up and aimed out the front window, squared on the driver of the large SUV ahead of them.

“Go. I’ll cover,” Chip said.

Avery rolled left out of the car and dropped behind his door as Levi went out the right side from the back seat and around to the other side of the car they’d crashed into.

“Okay, Chip,” Avery said. “Get out.”

“Nah, I’m fine right here,” Chip said. “I have a bead on them.”

“Chip, godammit, get out of the car,” Avery said.

“I can’t,” Chip said.

Avery looked across the driver’s seat at Chip Goodson. The sniper held his rifle up to his shoulder, the front supports resting on the dashboard of the Mercedes. His left hand was covered with a deep crimson liquid.

“Where’s the blood from?” Avery said.

“Not sure,” Chip said. “But I can’t move. We gotta get through this first.”

“Shit,” Avery said. “Grace, you there? We’ve been hit. Chip is hurt. We need help.”

No answer came from the radio.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Levi,” Avery said. “You ready for this?”

“Sure,” Levi said.

“Sure?” Avery said.

“Yeah, sure,” Levi said.

The doors of the Suburban opened and two men began climbing out. Chip squeezed the trigger on his rifle and sent a round off that put a small hole in the windshield right in front of him in the Mercedes and then into the black combat boot coming out of the driver’s door of the SUV forty-five feet away. As the driver’s foot hit the ground the ankle buckled and the man fell to the ground screaming. A second round to the head silenced him.

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