Scion (14 page)

“And the bums you killed, you reckon they were ex-military?”

“Definitely.”

“If I didn’t know better this has our name written all over it, or another agency’s. Where did you say the arrest was?”

“Cambridge.”

“OK, give me a minute,” replied Jackson, dialling a number on his phone. “Jackson here, get me the duty officer.”

“Good morning General Jackson, Dave
Thomas here, duty officer.”

“Hi Dave, I need you to check for any activities we’ve tracked or been involved with in the last 24 hours in
or around Cambridge, England.”

“Just SSB
or DIA overall?”

“
Sorry Dave, anybody, any agency.”

“Will do. Will I call you back on this number
?”

Jackson was somewhat taken aback
. He had been told that his mobile was highly secure, untraceable and his number was most definitely not available. Apart from to the NSA, obviously.

“Yes
, thanks.”

Five minutes later
, a rather flustered Dave Thomas called back.

“
General, I’ve never experienced anything like it…”

“Wh
y, what’s going on?”

“Sorry, I’m watching a live feed from just South of Cambridge…Jesus!”

“Dave?”

“Somebody outside of the Agency has control of one of our satellites and is tracking a car.”

“How the hell can they do that?”

“I’ve no idea but whoever is
in that car is toast. There’s a helicopter shooting the shit out of it as we speak. It’s unbelievable!”

“What
? right now? You’re watching the feed real time?”

“
Yes, whoa, the car just swerved and shot off the road into a field.”

“Jesus, have you alerted the local police?”

“Yes, but wait a minute the helicopter’s stopped shooting. In fact, it’s just stopped.”

“What do you mean it’s just stopped
?”

“Just that, the car swerved into the field and the helicopter just stopped and appear
s to have landed.”

“What
? And who’s controlling the satellite?”

“
God knows, it’s our satellite, under our control, but somebody is overriding our authority and is controlling it.”

“Who has that authority
?”

“It doesn’t exist, nobody has authority over us.”

“Jesus man, will you just speak plain fucking English!”

“
We have a security breach, someone’s using our system without our authority.”

“What else have they got?”

“They have transcripts of a few telephone conversations, two of which are between Washington and Cambridge and one between the British Prime Minister and the same place in Cambridge.”

“Holy shit
, how?”

“I’ve
got no idea but if it wasn’t for your call, we’d never have found out. Their link is so buried it would never have shown up unless we went looking.”

“Have you called the Director?”

“I’m just about to.”

“OK, call me back if you find out what’s happening.”

“Will do.”

Jackson composed his thoughts as the repercussions of his conversation played out in his mind. He’
d been in the game long enough to know that anybody who could access the NSA was a powerful adversary and anyone who could do it without being detected even more so. One thing was for sure, if they were in the NSA’s system they were definitely able to get into the DIA’s and his. He turned to Ashley.

“You’ve been through a very traumatic experience
. I want you to take some leave.”

“But…”

“What you do on your leave is up to you but if you were to find your way to England and find out what the fuck is going on, I’d be very interested to hear from you.” Jackson watched Ashley to make sure she was reading between the lines.

Ashley began to nod her head understanding
. “Of course Sir.”

“Now if there’s anything I can do to help
, please let me know and for God’s sake be careful.”

“Yes
Sir, of course Sir.”

Jackson looked at his watch, “Now if I’m not mistaken there’s a United flight from Dulles just before ten a.m.
which would give you time to get home, get your stuff and get the hell out of here.”

Ashley stood to attention, saluted and quickly left to secure a ride to her house. She had a plane to catch.

Just as she left, Jackson’s phone buzzed.

“Jackson
here.”

“General Jackson, I’ve just spoken with the
Director and he is extremely concerned about the National Security surrounding our previous conversation. Have you spoken to anyone else about my call Sir?”

“No, of course not,” lied Jackson.

“Thank God, I just got my ass chewed off for not speaking to him first. He wants to meet us both asap, he’s on his way in and has arranged for you to be picked up. He wants you personally to take control of the investigation.”

“OK, I’ll wait here until the car arrives.”

“It’s a chopper Sir, not a car.”

“OK. Oh and Dave
, what happened with the satellite feed, the chopper and the car?”

“Sorry
Sir, there’s somebody at the door, I’ll tell you when you get here, goodbye,” rushed Dave as he hung up the phone, leaving Jackson wondering what on earth was going on. However, it seemed he didn’t have long to wait, thumping rotors announced the arrival of another helicopter. Jackson walked outside and watched as the white unmarked Bell 430 landed in the middle of the lawn. He walked over to the pilot and checking it was from the NSA Director, climbed in. Thirty seconds later, they were airborne and on their way to Fort Meade, Maryland. 

Much to his staff
’s surprise, fifteen minutes after Jackson had left, a car arrived for him, sent by the Director of the NSA. All they could offer was an apology to the driver informing him that he had already left by chopper and no-one knew where he was going. Only Dave Thomas knew the truth. The NSA Director had sent the chopper but then he wouldn’t be telling anybody. Dave and his deputy, the only two other people aware of The Unit’s infiltration of the NSA’s system, were already dead. The official version would record a car crash. However, if the real autopsy report had not been doctored, the police would have been searching for a gunman. Both had died from a gunshot wound to the head.

The Bell 430 flew directly toward
s Fort Meade but as it continued past the huge complex, Jackson became concerned. The fact that the NSA Director, Lieutenant General Kenneth Coleman had not called himself had been praying on his mind. He had a very good working relationship with Coleman and would have expected a call inviting him over personally.

“Where are we going?” asked Jackson as they continued East at full speed.

The co-pilot turned round in his seat.

“
Don’t worry, it won’t be much longer Sir,” he smiled.

“Why on earth
should I be worried?” asked Jackson, finding the use of the word strange.

The
co-pilot, unsure how to reply, pulled out a small calibre pistol and shot Jackson between the eyes. The shock on Jackson’s face froze in time as the small bullet ricocheted throughout his skull killing him instantly. Five minutes later, out over the Chesapeake Bay, Brigadier General Robert T. Jackson (retired) was buried at sea, his body dropping over one hundred feet to its watery grave.

Chapter 21

As the first bullet hit the boot,
Scott dived over the seat and yanked the steering wheel to the left as Kelly’s screams over their impending doom rang in his ears. The suddenness and fierceness of Scott’s turn resulted in the car shuddering as it veered wildly to the left struggling to maintain its grip on the road surface. If it were not for the enhanced suspension of the high-speed BMW pursuit car, they would have flipped over but fortunately, the two right hand wheels managed to maintain their grip and the car slewed 90 degrees before hurtling across the hard shoulder and out into the neighbouring field, landing with a thump five feet below road level.

The manoeuvre did not phase the helicopter pilot
. The AH-6J was one of the most agile helicopters in the world and as the car began to turn, he simply followed the car round, keeping the machine guns trained on the car, the bullets continuing on their relentless path into the body of the car.

***

Clark followed the track of his bullet as it flew though the air dropping over two feet in the ½ mile distance that it had to travel. Even before the bullet hit, Clark was up and moving, racing back to his car. He wanted to be back in London before anyone knew what had happened.

***

The pilot of the chopper had his finger firmly pressed against the trigger, guiding the little chopper towards the target. The first he knew anything was wrong was when the rotors suddenly stopped turning; the momentary pause before they tipped forward was almost surreal.. With the front top heavy both pilots looked at each other in horror, they were one hundred feet from the ground and with a couple of tons of weight behind them, they didn’t stand a chance, if they were extremely lucky they wouldn’t feel anything. The helicopter plummeted down piling the pilots into the ground. The death screams of the pilots suggested they had definitely not been lucky.

***

Scott was the first out of the car quickly helping Kelly and Harris out before rushing to the first car that was shot. Its smouldering wreckage, however, told him nobody had survived. He moved to the downed helicopter. The large bullet hole in the engine housing told Scott all he needed to know, Somebody was on his side. Whoever had taken the shot was an expert and had known exactly where to shoot. He looked around but knew the shooter would be long gone.

A very sha
ky Kelly appeared at his side and took in the scene.

“It seems somebody may be on your side afterall,” she said looking over her shoulder towards the same bridge
Scott was looking at.

“Hmmm,” replied
Scott. The more that happened, the stranger things got.

Sirens began to sound all around them as police cars, ambulances and fire engines appeared from every angle.
Scott suddenly realised that Harris was not with them and remembered Harris’ head had thumped into the steering wheel as the car landed in the field.

“Where’s Harris?” he asked
looking back at the car.

“
He was just behind me,” replied Kelly searching the area between them and the car.

Scott
ran back to the car and found Harris slumped to his right propped against the side of the car, a pool of sick by his side.

“Shit, quick get a paramedic over here right away, he’s badly concussed
,” screamed Scott to Kelly.

Five minutes later, Harris was strapped to a board and
being choppered to the nearest hospital. Scott and Kelly spent the next twenty minutes explaining what had happened and were only allowed to continue on their journey to London after the intervention of the Chief Constable. A helicopter arrived shortly afterwards to ensure they arrived at the Ministry of Defence with as little risk to the public as possible.

Chapter 22

Kenneth Coleman closed the door to his office and walked slowly to his desk
. He knew the weight of the three deaths would haunt him for a very long time, particularly Jackson’s. He was a good man, although that was his ultimate weakness. He was just too good and he would never have understood. It was Coleman’s call. He could have brought Jackson in and tried to get him on side but it would just have delayed the inevitable.

He sat down at his desk just as his direct line began to ring
. He subconsciously looked around the room wondering if he was being watched. Did they know he had just sat down?

“
Hello?” he answered tentatively.

“Hi, is it done?”

“Yes.”

“And Walker?”

“We’ll find him,” replied Coleman firmly.

“You’d better!” retorted the caller ominously
. “The fucker just screwed up our plans in England. Our problem has not been resolved.”

As the phone went dead, Coleman sat back in his chair
. He had a funny feeling things were going to get a lot worse before they got better. He desperately wished they hadn’t reeled him in but they had and it now it was too late. His salary would never have paid for the life his position should have afforded him. Had he not worked for the government, he would have been earning ten times what he was. It was only thanks to them that his kids had the education and lifestyle he had dreamed of giving them. But today, the price was high, perhaps too high. Jackson was a good man, just like he had been.