The Book of Truths (25 page)

He turned and strode toward the East Wing, his staff crowded around him. The head of the Secret Service watched them walk away, then turned to the reporter.

“It’s all part of the exercise,” he assured the confused man. Then he returned his attention to his priority: the building containing the president.

Riggs burst into the Visitors Foyer, noted the blocked doors to his right and the Secret Service guards, and turned left, down the East Colonnade. He went past the Family Theater (and they gave the military shit about waste?) toward the East Wing of the White House, the lesser known of the two flanks. It contained the First Lady’s offices,
like anyone gives a rat’s ass about that bitch
, Riggs thought as he waddled into the main corridor. It also had the calligraphy office, because that was the way they ran shit over here with their sense of priorities.

A military guard stood at the entrance to the elevator that led to the PEOC: the Presidential Emergency Operations Center. Most people knew about the Situation Room under the West Wing where the Oval Office was, but the PEOC was the real deal. Where the commander in chief would go when the shit hit the fan. Where the armed forces of the United States could be commanded and controlled.

Except the shit had hit the fan and as far as Riggs could tell, the president was cowering over in the Residence.

The marine on duty at the elevator popped to attention and snapped a salute. Riggs acknowledged him by tipping the Constitution to the brim of his cap. As many of his staff as possible (not many, given his girth) crowded in with him; the rest would have to wait for the next ride.

The PEOC had been built during World War II for President Roosevelt. During the Cold War it had been boasted that the center could survive a direct ICBM hit. As Riggs descended in the elevator through earth and the steel-reinforced concrete that
covered the bunker, he knew technology had outstripped the outmoded facility. A modern targeted nuke would bust this bunker wide open.

He didn’t plan to allow the Russkies and the Chinese the opportunity to do that.

Riggs giggled at the thought. Those pinched in around him tried not to eye him, staring up at the ceiling or at the walls. The elevator rumbled to a halt and the doors slid open. The duty staff, a half dozen officers, and NCOs who manned the PEOC hopped to attention as Riggs entered.

“At ease, gentlemen, at ease.”

Riggs went to the head of the conference table, which took up most of the room. It was where Bush had eventually arrived on 9/11. Of course, Riggs knew the real deal, because he’d met the officer who’d had the duty that day, when America was attacked. Bush had been reading aloud to a group of second graders, continuing even after being told one, then two planes had hit the World Trade Center.

Then they’d finally managed to get to
Air Force One,
took off, and had no clue where to go since there was concern Washington, DC, was under attack. They eventually landed at Barksdale Air Force Base and then flew on to Offutt where the president was secreted in the Strategic Command Underground Command Center. There he communicated back to the VP in this very room until it was deemed safe for the president to return to Washington.

In essence, Riggs’s destiny was to make sure scared-shitless politicians didn’t screw things up again. Once more the White House was in chaos, but this time Riggs was going to pick up the slack.

He placed the items he’d brought with him on the table. First the copy of the Constitution, which he rolled out flat. Then he
weighed the top end down with the Bible. When he drew his pistol and placed it on the closest end, silence descended in the room.

The elevator opened and the rest of his staff entered.

Riggs looked at the twenty-some-odd military men gathered around the conference table in the PEOC. He raised his hands. “Gentlemen. The country is being attacked. We, in this room, are the last line of defense. The president and the White House are under attack by biological agents. The vice president and the chairman are out of the country and we must assume, compromised. I am in charge.”

“Technically, sir,” one of the officers who’d been on duty and was not part of his staff protested, “the line of succession is—” He paused as Riggs lifted the gun off the bottom of the Constitution and pulled the slide back, chambering a round.

“Sergeant Major,” Riggs said, indicating his senior enlisted man who had followed him through all those assignments over the years and owed his career to him. “The next man who speaks out against me is speaking out against the country and committing treason. Feel free to shoot him.”

The Sergeant Major drew his own sidearm, locked and loaded.

General Riggs lowered his arms, put the gun back down on the Constitution, and stretched a hand out to the officer on either side of him. “Let us pray, gentlemen, and then let us take action.”

Everyone in the PEOC linked hands and Riggs led them in a heartfelt prayer.

And spread Cherry Tree throughout the room.

Inside Deep Six, Brennan cowered in the corner of his cell. In the adjacent cell, Wahid was staring at him, arms folded, waiting.

“I’m sorry,” Brennan said. “I didn’t invent the stuff. Really.”

Wahid said nothing, Cherry Tree having finally worn off, while Brennan was still in the throes of it.

“I know it’s wrong,” Brennan said. “But—” He was cut off as another burst of automatic fire echoed through the cavern. The muzzle flashes were like a strobe light in the dim lighting. They came from the far end of the cavern where the guards were quartered.

Deep Six consisted of the empty, original reservoir for Raven Rock, over three hundred feet long by eighty wide. Cages for prisoners were set in clusters along the floor. The walls and tops of the cages were built from industrial fencing, laid over steel pipes. The floor was the original rock of the reservoir. The only item in each cage, beside the prisoner, was a bucket for sanitation purposes.

The mercenaries who ran the place were quartered in several wooden huts. Lighting came from bulbs spaced far apart on electrical cords stretched along the ceiling. The entire atmosphere was one of gloom, darkness, and the end of life as those here had known it.

The guards were a mixture of former thugs from various security agencies in Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Most were wanted men in their home countries. They were here for the pay and the promise of moving on to a nonextraditable country with enough in a Swiss account so they could live out the rest of their days.

Most of them, anyway.

But a good percentage were here because they liked what they did. Sadists.

A metal chain had been looped around Brennan’s neck by the two guards who’d brought him in. Attached to it was a yellow card with nothing on it. He noted that Wahid had a red card.

Seeing the glance, Wahid smiled and finally spoke in surprisingly good English. “Yellow means you are not to be tortured. Not yet. Red means they can do what they want. Torture. Rape. Kill me if they please, now, because I told all I knew during your experiment. Before that, my card was black. Do anything they want, but don’t kill. I do not expect to last another day here. I have heard there is a card colored green which means one is to be out-processed and released. I am told no one in here has ever been given this green card.”

More firing from the vicinity of the barracks.

“Then again,” Wahid said, “I think the guards are more interested in killing each other right now than prisoners. There are ancient ethnic and religious differences among them. Christian. Muslims of various sects. Men from tribes that hate each other. Whoever survives will eventually get to us, I’m sure.” Wahid cocked his head, considering the cowering Brennan as he might an object of interest and slight disgust.

“Tell me, since you must tell the truth. Do you really believe what your country is doing here is right?” He waved a hand, taking in the cavern.

“No.” Brennan couldn’t stop from giving the answer, even though he’d always agreed with Riggs that America’s enemies had to be dealt with harshly.

Brennan was on the rock floor, knees drawn up to his chest, as far away from Wahid as he could get. In the cage on the other side, a naked man was strung up from a metal bar holding the mesh that was the roof of their cages. He wasn’t moving, his feet dangling limply. Brennan feared the man was dead.

“These monsters here tortured me and tortured me and I never talked,” Wahid said. “Until your science. So are you going to use this Cherry Tree for interrogation, as you use drones to attack from above? So clean, so sterile, for those who implement it. Not so much for those on the receiving end. You have this Cherry Tree in you and you ended up here. How does that feel?”

“Terrible,” Brennan said. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I think you’ve done many things wrong,” Wahid said. “Haven’t you?”

Brennan sobbed. “Yes. Yes, I have.”

“I think this weapon, this Cherry Tree, is much more dangerous than your scientists who invented it realize.”

“It is!” Brennan cried out. A single pistol shot echoed and someone screamed in a cluster of cages about thirty feet away. Brennan could see a guard walking along the cages, peering in. The guard stopped, pointed his gun and fired. A scream from inside the cage.

“He is not shooting to kill,” Wahid said. “He is taking pleasure in wounding. I have seen such men. It does not matter what side one is on or what the cause is, such men exist everywhere.”

“It’s out,” Brennan couldn’t stop himself. “Cherry Tree. I infected the president’s daughter, I think. I don’t know who else is infected.”

Wahid sneered. “Blowback. Your great country is excellent at that. You send death and destruction out into the world and then are amazed when it comes back on you. Now it seems you are sending truth out into the world. It will be most interesting to see what comes back.”

“They can’t shoot me,” Brennan said. “I work for the vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. My father commanded NATO!”

“I think the rules,” Wahid said, “your status, who your father was, the colors on the cards, aren’t going to matter soon. If the truth becomes the rule in here, those who enjoy the kill, the pain, they will take over. Because in crisis, the ruthless almost always prevail over the good.” Wahid took a step closer to the grating that separated Brennan from him. “But if I get the chance, I will kill you with my bare hands and my teeth. I will rip your throat out.”

Wahid spit through the grating.

Roland fired a long, sustained burst from the M249, chewing up the target silhouette until he separated the top from the bottom. He sighed contentedly as he lowered the smoking barrel. It wasn’t the same as his old companion, not having tasted combat yet, but it was an all right first date.

The target had been set up along the edge of Groom Mountain, so the rounds went through and into the side of the rock. Everyone had checked and rechecked their weapons, gear, and ammunition. Eagle had walked around the Snake a half-dozen times. Mac had ordered extra demolitions, assuming that wherever they were going, the nukes were going to be well secured. He wasn’t going to be caught in a tunnel waiting on Roland’s muscle to open a door this time. He was checking an array of shaped charges, arranging them in order of strength and yield.

And Nada and Kirk were seated in the cargo bay. Kirk was maintaining the secure satcom link to Milstar and had a printout of frequencies, call signs, and code words on his lap, ready to supply as needed to Nada.

Ms. Jones had told them the White House was locked down with Moms inside. And that General Riggs had secured himself in the Presidential Emergency Operations Center.

“
Seven Days in May
,” Eagle said, stopping his pacing about for the moment as he heard the last part.

Nada looked up from the radio. “What?”

“A classic,” Eagle said. “Published in 1962. About a military coup being planned because the president was signing an arms reduction treaty with the Russians. The author wrote it after meeting General LeMay, who scared the shit out of him.”

Nada had radio calls to make, but he respected Eagle’s knowledge.