On hearing this, Charley picked up the phone again and dialled a different number. She gave her call sign and typed in her security password. ‘Can you give me confirmation of Nomad’s arrival?’
After listening to the response, she numbly put the phone down.
‘They’re not at the safe house,’ she informed them. ‘We need to update Colonel Black. I fear the worst has happened.’
A body lay in the middle of the disused aircraft hangar, a bullet through the head.
‘That will ensure her silence,’ grinned Malik, lowering his gun.
‘But that agent was one of us!’ exclaimed Hazim, his face aghast at the brutal execution.
Malik’s expression became stony. ‘We must tie up all loose ends, Hazim. A double agent can never be trusted.’
‘Well, what about all those innocent people killed by our bombs? You never told me about that part of the plan. How can we justify those killings to God –’
‘Don’t you dare question my command, Hazim!’ snarled Malik, taking a step closer and looking Hazim in the eye. ‘They were infidels. But I’m beginning to wonder if I should be questioning your commitment to the cause?’
‘No, not at all,’ defended Hazim, vehemently shaking his head.
‘I hope not,’ said Malik, then strode away, leaving Hazim staring at the body of the ruthlessly slain agent.
Malik approached the 4×4 where his men stood guard. Peering into the rear passenger compartment, he admired his prize. The President’s daughter was slumped unconscious on the back seat, a tranquillizer dart piercing her neck.
‘When the dust settles, Washington will discover what we’ve really achieved,’ he laughed coldly.
Bahir swept a surveillance scanner over Alicia’s prone body. A red light blinked on as the device passed over her jeans pocket. Bahir pulled out the bugged phone.
‘A job well done!’ he said, congratulating himself on his programming skill with the Cell-Finity bug. He extracted the SIM card and snapped it in half, before crushing the phone under his boot.
The scanner flashed again, this time over her bag. He rifled through the contents and pulled out the panic alarm.
‘I trust that’s not still active?’ said Malik.
Bahir shook his head. ‘The EMP Kedar fired during the attack at the memorial disabled all electronic equipment in the 4×4’s vicinity.’ He broke apart the alarm case and disconnected the innards. ‘This sweep is just to make one hundred per cent certain.’
Bahir now turned his attention to Connor’s body. The scanner immediately found his smartphone. He popped out the SIM card and destroyed it. He went to smash the phone too when he noticed the screen boot up and the graphic of a lock appear.
‘That’s strange,’ he muttered. ‘How can its circuitry still be functioning?’
Intrigued by the anomaly, he checked there were no outgoing signals, then pocketed the phone for later analysis. He continued his surveillance sweep. The scanner blinked rapidly as it passed over Connor’s wrist.
‘Someone certainly didn’t want to lose this one,’ he remarked, removing the fancy watch.
‘I wonder why that is?’ Malik mused, leaning in closer to get a better look at Connor’s face.
‘He’s a special guest of the President on an exchange programme,’ Hazim replied flatly as he rejoined the others. ‘His name’s Connor Reeves. He’s English.’
‘Well, he’s not invited to our party,’ said Kedar, drawing his handgun and aiming at Connor’s head.
‘Hold your fire!’ ordered Malik.
‘But I thought we agreed no prisoners, apart from the girl.’
Malik pushed Kedar’s gun away.
‘No, don’t kill him …’ He tugged the tranquillizer dart from Connor’s chest. ‘Not yet anyway. Having another child hostage might prove a useful bargaining chip.’
‘The White House is all clear, Mr President,’ announced George. ‘The bomb disposal team have swept the residence, three times now, and that particular threat appears to have been a hoax.’
‘A hoax? The others certainly weren’t,’ replied President Mendez, seated at the head of the conference table aboard Air Force One. The past few hours had been some of the worst the nation had known since 9/11 and he was in no mood for practical jokes.
‘This was most likely a prank call, inspired by but unconnected to the bombings,’ explained Karen Wright. ‘We couldn’t take that risk, though.’
‘It was the right decision, Karen. But I need to get back into the Oval Office and make a statement to reassure the nation. What’s the situation at the other locations in Washington?’
The Director of National Intelligence swiped her finger across her touchscreen computer. An updated situation report appeared on the screen.
‘All targeted areas have been cordoned off. Official reports indicate structural damage to Secret Service and FBI Headquarters. The US Capitol building has escaped unscathed. There were one hundred and fifty-four casualties at the last count, but mercifully few confirmed deaths. We can thank the swift response of our emergency services for that.’
Karen scanned down the page to the ERT report.
‘The Environmental Response Teams have completed initial atmospheric analysis. Apart from the anticipated smoke and fumes, no chemical, biological or nuclear compounds were found in any of the attacks.’
President Mendez breathed an audible sigh of relief. ‘A dirty bomb would have been our worst nightmare. So, can we assume the immediate threat is over?’
‘It appears that way,’ replied Karen. ‘But as a standard precaution we’ve closed all public buildings, diverted traffic out of the downtown area and a block-by-block search for any suspicious vehicles or packages is under way. So far, no further danger has been reported.’
‘Then we can inform the public that we are in control of the situation.’
‘Yes, Mr President.’
‘Excellent. It’s important that we display a show of strength against these terrorists.’
‘I’m afraid it’s not all good news, Mr President,’ said Dirk, entering the airborne conference room, his face drawn and haggard following a high-priority call from the Joint Operations Centre. ‘As you know, we received confirmation from Delta Four that your daughter was picked up and being taken to a safe house. But –’
‘But what?’ demanded President Mendez.
‘The team never reached the safe house.’
President Mendez blinked, unwilling to believe what he’d just heard. ‘And you’ve only learnt about this now?’ He glanced at the clock on the cabin wall. ‘It’s been over five hours. Where is she then?’
Dirk’s solemn expression said it all. ‘The Secret Service team has just been found dead in the Jefferson Memorial car park. There’d been a gun battle.’
‘Alicia too?’ he asked, his hands beginning to tremble. As President he was more than capable of handling a national crisis, but as a father the thought of losing his daughter was too much to bear.
Dirk shook his head. ‘There was no sign of her.’
‘So she’s still alive?’
‘Yes, in all probability,’ replied Dirk. ‘I’ve also been informed Connor was with her at the time.’
President Mendez frowned. ‘I thought he’d left?’
‘So did I. But Buddyguard uncovered last-minute evidence that your daughter’s phone was tapped and being tracked.’
‘Then why haven’t you found her yet?’ asked President Mendez, anguish gripping his heart like a vice.
‘Her panic alarm malfunctioned. We lifted the block on mobile calls, but her cellphone’s dead too,’ explained Dirk. ‘With Secret Service headquarters crippled by the bomb blast and the current state of emergency, our teams have been stretched to the limit. If we’d only been allowed to put a tracker on her –’
‘Dirk, I don’t want excuses. I need results,’ President Mendez barked, pounding the table with his fist. ‘Land this plane right now. Get me back to Washington. Divert every resource available to finding my daughter!’