Sabotage (20 page)

President Farah motioned for the soldier to open the door. There was an empty anteroom that Cal and Daniel entered first, making sure to clear the room of any threats inside. Liberty bolted between them and began scratching on the door at the far end of the room.

"Open it," Cal ordered the captain. Cal called Liberty back, who came back with reluctance and sat whining at his side.

The captain fumbled with his keys and was finally able to unlock the door. Liberty darted into the darkened room.

"Damn it," Cal cursed, sprinting in behind her with Daniel at his side.

Now their weapons were drawn, and wisely the captain moved out of the way. Daniel flipped on the light switch, and Cal's stomach sank. All they found were two examination chairs, empty except for a heavy splash of blood on one headrest.

Chapter 27

By the time President Zimmer and the cavalry showed up, the camp mop up was complete. All supposed rogue soldiers had been rounded up and were being held until such time as they could be questioned, and the real traitors were weeded out. Cal didn’t think there would be many because the guys they left behind seemed to be the real soldiers, whereas the ones who ran had probably been mercenaries.

President Farah accepted Zimmer's offer for assistance. The troops from Camp Lemonnier would leave a company of Marines behind to secure the area.

"The captain believes that your men have been taken to another location. This morning was the last time he saw them.”

“Were they healthy or had they been harmed?" Zimmer asked.

"He says they were treated well, but one of them looked ill.”

They were discussing their options when the president received three calls in rapid succession. The first, he said, was from the director of the CIA, who had derived intel from the NSA confirming that a small convoy had left the detention camp hours earlier.

"So we just missed them," Zimmer said. "But they couldn't have gotten far. At least, I hope not."

The second call was brief and was an update on another situation he'd been monitoring. 

The third was the most unbelievable of all and was the general himself.

"He says his name is Hachi. Do you know him?" Zimmer asked Farah.

President Farah nodded gravely. "Yes, I know General Hachi, and I am sorry to say that he would have been one of the last persons that I would consider to be behind these unfortunate actions."

"Who is he?"

"He was a friend. We went to grade school together and played together as children, but when I went to Great Britain to attend the university, he went to France for military school. It wasn't until I was elected president that we saw each other again. He had changed. He had hardened, but his position in the army was modest at best. Now it would seem that he has changed much more than I first suspected,” Farah paused, remembering something. “If I recall correctly, he was briefly relieved of command when it was suspected that he was supplying our weaponry to certain Ethiopian rebels. He was, of course, cleared of all charges, but now it seems likely that another hand has been played."

"But why would he go to such lengths to kill you?”

"I do not think that was his original intent," Farah explained. "They first warned me, and told me to resign as president. They said I would be allowed to seek asylum elsewhere, but I refused. It was only then that they used force to oust me from office. My men were killed, and if it were not for Mr. Briggs, they could have succeeded in killing me. What is it that Hachi wanted?"

"He says he wants to meet. He says he knows where my men are, and he's willing to help make an exchange."

"And where did he say he would like to meet?"

"He said he'd call again in an hour, and that we should make our way to the airport.”

"Mr. President, I don't think you should listen to him," the Secret Service agent advised. "We should wait and see if our assets can track the general and—"

"No. I'm going, and this topic is no longer open for discussion."

There were incredulous looks all around. Cal was about to speak up, but Zimmer held up a hand.

"We'll talk on the way to the airport, okay?"

Cal nodded, but knew, from the determined look in Zimmer's eyes, that it didn't matter what he or anyone else said. The president had already set his path, and Cal had the nagging feeling that his friend's decisiveness could soon be his undoing.

By the time they got to the airport, it was decided that Presidents Zimmer and Farah would take the private jet that was being cleared and scrubbed top to bottom by the advance Secret Service detail already present. Aircraft from the USS Harry Truman would provide air cover, while drones from Camp Lemonnier would scour the countryside, and track the plane's every move. When Cal volunteered to go with them, Zimmer denied the request.

"Come on, Brandon. You need to let us go with you.” Cal urged that his friend to let his team go along, but could see the president was eager to go.

"I've got the Secret Service guys. We'll be fine," Zimmer said.

"This is stupid. I'm telling you, let the pros deal with this one. We'll find this guy; we'll get Vince and Karl back. Then we'll pack up and go home. You do not need to do this."

Zimmer grinned. "Aren't you the one that's always encouraging politicians to put their money where their mouths are? Well, that's precisely what I'm doing. I sent those two on this mission, and I'm going to get them back. It's not like I'm leaving behind my security protection, and trust me—" His eyes twinkled, like he was thinking of some private joke that Cal wasn't privy to, but Cal wouldn't have thought that anything was very funny at the moment. "Everything is going to work out. I promise. You do what you do best, and I'll do my job. Deal?"

Cal nodded, although reluctantly. "You're still nuts, though. You know that, right?"

Zimmer punched him in the arm. "Looks like you guys are starting to rub off on me then."

+ + +

The peg-legged man waved to the baggage handlers and scooted on to complete his job. There was a small private aircraft up ahead, and he saw men who were obviously some sort of security detail hovering around the plane. They stared him down for a moment and then their eyes moved on.

The cripple took a left turn and soon came to a metal shed. He stepped inside and nearly staggered; it seemed that the small space harnessed the day's heat and multiplied it tenfold. He latched the door behind him, and pulled the cell phone from his pocket. As he waited for the other person to answer, he rubbed his thigh, and he considered taking the fake peg leg off for a moment. Then he remembered the security men around the jet and reconsidered.

He put the phone to his ear and moved to the flimsy wall. That aluminum side sported a crude painting of the ocean which he took off its hanger. He revealed a small hole and peered through it. From his vantage point, he could see the sleek aircraft as well as observe the security detail looking toward the private terminal where a group of men walked toward the plane. He confirmed one target over the phone and was pleased to relay the name of the other man.

The men boarded, followed by half of the security detachment. The men around the plane moved aside and kept a vigilant watch of the perimeter. Once the side door was closed, the plane's engine's pitch changed and off it taxied.

They were on the move, the man said into the phone, after which he terminated the call. He'd done his homework. Now it was time to leave. There was much more to be done.

+ + +

The shooter scratched his nose as he adjusted his eye behind the laser sight. The plane was in view and it was taking its time moving over to the main runway. As expected, all other traffic had been halted.

Then the plane did something strange. Instead of going straight, it turned right, heading straight for a far hangar. He was about to call in the discrepancy when he saw the reason for the diversion. Three heavy fuel trucks were making a direct line for the terminal. The plane had turned to give them the right-of-way. The shooter breathed a sigh of relief. His blood was pumping fast, and he took one quick look around him. He wasn’t in or even near the airport. To be there would be stupid. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

The plane looped around the hangar, obscuring his view for a good twenty to thirty seconds, he estimated, and then the airplane came out the other side. It continued taxiing but faster now. The shooter knew exactly in which direction the plane would go. He’d been watching aircraft take off and land all morning long. He knew the rhythm of the place and felt his heartbeat quicken. His shot was coming. He flicked off the safety and settled in to watch. He had been selected because he never missed a target.

+ + +

Cal and his friends were standing in the main tower, watching the plane carrying Presidents Zimmer and Farah accompanied by their security details. Cal still thought it was a stupid idea. He'd had a conversation with Neil. Neil was positive it would only be a matter of time before he, or probably one of the American agencies, tracked down General Hachi.

"Why are they turning?" Cal said, looking up from his phone.

"The tanker trucks are coming that way," Daniel answered.

"You'd think they would have had that figured out before they departed," Cal said, annoyed. The Secret Service was supposed to have the entire airport staff under their thumb. To have three tankers divert the president’s plane, and force them to take the long way around, was one more thing to irritate Cal. "We should be on that plane,” Cal said for the umpteenth time.

As if Liberty shared Cal’s exasperation, she growled as she watched out the window, her front paws propped up on the windowsill.

Cal's phone rang. He looked down and noticed the president was calling. He answered quickly.

“Are you having second thoughts?" Cal quizzed.

The president laughed. "No. I just wanted to remind you to hold down the fort while I'm gone, okay? This shouldn't take long. I promise."

"Who are you – my mother?”

"Just be careful, okay?"

"I will."

"And Cal?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for everything, okay? I mean it."

"Yeah, yeah. Just hurry back. I'm ready to go home, and I'm sure Vince and Karl are too."

“Copy that," the president agreed. "I'll talk to you soon."

The call ended, and Cal watched as the plane appeared behind the far hangar. Then it taxied to the end of the runway, picking up speed. It lifted up from the deck, leaving in its wake a stream of dust.

"I told you this was stupid, right?" Cal asked Daniel.

"He'll be fine, Cal. Just let him—" but the word stuck in Daniel's throat. His eyes went wide, and then so did Cal's. A collective gasp and hush followed as they watched a white-tailed missile as it caught up to the launching aircraft.  Time seemed to stop. For the first time in a long time, Cal felt completely helpless. The ensuing explosion of the aircraft tore the plane and its passengers into a million pieces.

Chapter 28

A man the world had never seen before stepped up to the podium. He was dressed in a crisp military uniform. As he adjusted the microphone, his medals clinked together. He spoke with a clipped accent. He was trying to be proper, but when he spoke the language, it sounded a little more forced than he would have liked.

"My name is General Hachi. Until moments ago, I was a commander in the army of the Republic of Djibouti. Unfortunately, I bring disturbing news. Earlier today, the president of the United States, President Brandon Zimmer, boarded a small private aircraft with a Secret Service detachment. He was flying to meet me so that I could assist him in brokering the release of two American hostages who had been kidnapped by what we then thought was a terrorist cell. Shortly after takeoff, a short-range surface-to-air missile collided with the president's aircraft. I am sad to report there were no survivors. While it was first thought the culprit terrorists were Islamic fanatics, we have since found the guilty party was none other than the president of Djibouti himself, President Farah. With the support of my fellow generals, I have taken over command of the country and our armed forces. Not only are our intelligence assets searching for President Farah, but we have been given the full support of the American Central Intelligence Agency and their assets in the region.”

"This is a sad day for the United States of America as well as for the Republic of Djibouti. I have no doubt that in the coming days, we will find the men responsible, bring them to justice, and get past this sad chapter in history. My office will release information as it is known, but until then, know that the people of Djibouti are doing everything we can to find the criminals who perpetrated this horrible tragedy. Thank you."

The live feed clicked off, and the man behind the camera gave General Hachi a thumbs up. Only then did Hachi step away from the podium. He ushered everyone out of the room, except one man. Once the others had left, the general spoke to his guest.