Transfer of Power

chapter 40

It had taken almost no effort to convince Rielly. Adams actually made several attempts to douse her enthusiasm, but she would have none of it. She was in. Rapp wasn't sure if she wanted to do it out of patriotism, sympathy for the remaining hostages, or professional greed. He hoped it was one of the first two and not the latter.

The plan came together in short order Adams was a natural problem solver with the tedious mind of an engineer. Rapp, with his practical experience, tried to simplify every aspect of the operation, knowing that the more complicated it became the stronger the chance that it would fail. For her part, Rielly listened well and asked pointed questions when needed.

Rapp had told them, "This is simple recon. Nothing fancy, just take a look and then get out." He then went on to brief Rielly on how they would proceed, and then before leaving the stash room, he gave her one more chance to back out. She didn't waver for a second. With everything covered and the clock ticking, Rapp grabbed the proper gear and gave Adams the go-ahead signal.

Adams slid back the bolt, and Rapp was the first one into the closet. Having already checked the surveillance units, they knew no one else was currently on the second and third floors. They moved quickly and quietly across the hall and into the small elevator. Rielly was in sweat socks and made no noise. When they arrived in the first basement, the doors slid open and Adams went to work with the snake. Rapp and Adams were working well as a team, but now with Rielly as the third wheel, it was another variable to worry about.

Adams retracted the snake, and over his shoulder he whispered, "All clear."

Rapp asked, "We go to the right, halfway down the hall?"

"Yep."

"Good," whispered Rapp. "Here's the routine." Rapp looked to Rielly, who was no more than a foot away. "When we open this door, I step out first. I sweep to the left and then the right. When I give you two the signal to move out, you go. Milt in the lead; you with your right hand on his right shoulder." Rapp was happy to see that her eyes were open wide, a sign that she was paying attention. "You keep that hand on his shoulder and keep your eyes on the back of his head. If he speeds up, you speed up; if he slows down, you slow down; and if he crouches, you get down. If I have to start shooting, I don't want to worry about you jumping out in front of me."

Rielly nodded and then blinked for the first time in a while. All of a sudden she didn't think this was such a good idea. Either it was colder down here or she was getting the chills from fright. Rapp asked her something, and she stared back at him with a blank expression.

"Are you nervous?"

Rielly nodded, eyes wide open.

"Good." Rapp grinned. "You should be." He grabbed her right hand and placed it on Adams's shoulder. "Just follow Milt, and everything will be fine."

Rapp cracked the door just an inch at first and looked down the hallway. With nothing in sight. He opened the door another foot and peered in the other direction. With his MP-10 leveled in his left hand, he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped out into the hallway. After checking both directions again, his right hand shot up and pointed for Adams and Rielly to move out.

Adams started out on cue, his bald head scrunched down between his shoulders as if bullets might start whizzing over his cranium at any moment, the all important S-key in his right hand. Rielly mimicked his posture and scampered behind him on the balls of her stockinged feet. As soon as they were clear, Rapp closed the nondescript door that concealed the elevator and fell in behind them. Within seconds Adams had stopped at another door and was inserting his key. He fumbled with it for a second, his hands shaking slightly. After one misfire, he stuck the key all the way in and turned the knob. Adams yanked the door open and was immediately pushed inside the room by Rielly, who was being pushed by Rapp.

Rapp pulled the door shut and looked around the rectangular-shaped storage room. Rielly was doing the same and whispered, "I thought we were going to the China Room."

"No." Adams shook his head. "The china storage room." He approached one of the many wheeled gray plastic containers that stood about four feet tall. Adams pulled off the protective cloth cover and revealed a collection of plates, saucers, and cups. "These things are spring-loaded" Adams picked up a china dinner plate. "When they decide which china they want for an event, they just wheel this whole thing into the kitchen elevator and they take it upstairs."

Rielly looked around the room. "All of these contain sets of china?"

"Yep."

"That's great." Rapp was already moving several of the containers out of his way so he could get to the wall where the vent was located. Adams joined in, and they passed the wheeled containers from one to the other. While they were doing so, Rapp looked at a second door, located on the wall to his right, and asked, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep." Adams nodded as he looked up for a second.

"Good. I think it's gonna come in real handy." Rapp moved the last container and saw the vent cover on the bottom of the wall. It looked to be about a foot and a half wide and maybe a foot tall. Rapp stepped out of the way, and Adams moved in. Dropping down to one knee, he pulled out a small cordless drill and quickly backed out both screws. With his fingers, he pulled the slatted cover off and dropped all the way down to his stomach. With a flashlight in hand, he stuck his arm in first and then half of his head. After bouncing the light off the duct work for a couple of seconds, he found what he was looking for. The down chute that led to the lower floors and eventually the HVAC unit in the basement.

Adams pulled his head out and looked at Rapp, who was kneeling next to him. "It's right where I thought it was. Ten feet down this way, go straight down two floors, and she has to crawl about a dozen feet, and there's the vent."

"Which way does she go when she hits the third level?"

Adams jerked his thumb. "She keeps going the same way."

Rapp looked at his watch and said, "All right." Then turning to Rielly, he said, "Last chance to back out."

Rielly grinned reluctantly and looked at the small opening that Adams was lying next to. "I'm ready."

Rapp looked at her and again wondered what her motivation was. Standing there in the president's oversized West Point sweats, she did not fit the image of the brave and bold. Rapp thought she looked scrawny. He had to hand it to her, though; whether it was professional motivation, sense of obligation to her fellow hostages, or just good old Catholic guilt, the woman was tough. She'd had the crap kicked out of her, was almost raped, and yet here she was, willing to go right back into the fray.

Rapp nodded at her with admiration and said, "Give me a couple of minutes, and we'll get you on your way."

Rapp took off his fanny pack and laid out the climbing rope and one of the surveillance units.

"Is she going to have enough light in there?"

Adams thought about it for a second. "Yeah. It spills through the vents about every ten to fifteen feet."

"Good." Holding the rope up, Rapp turned to Rielly and said, "Go lie down over there by the vent, and we'll tie this around your ankles." Rapp cut a four-foot section from the end of the rope and tied one end to Rielly's right ankle and the other to her left. When he was satisfied with the knots, he tied the rope to the middle of the four-foot section. This allowed Rielly to move her legs independently, which would have been impossible if her ankles were tied together.

After asking her how the knots felt, Rapp asked, "Any questions before we get started?"

Rielly looked up from her position on the floor. "Yeah, how in the hell do I signal for you guys to pull me back up?"

Rapp frowned. "That's a good question. How about if you tug three times on the rope?"

"How?" Rielly craned her neck backward and looked into the duct. "There isn't enough room for me to do that."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Looking to Adams, Rapp asked, "Any ideas?"

Adams thought about it for a second, his lips scrunched up. Finally he said, "Yeah. I got one." Adams then sat and began taking his boots off. He took out the left bootlace, then the right, then tied them together. He tied one end to the long rope and the other one he loosely knotted around Rielly's neck. "When you want us to take you back up, tug on this three times."

Rielly nodded and Rap said, "Good thinking, Milt." Then looking down at Rielly, he said, "Down this way about ten feet and then straight down until you hit the bottom. Now, remember when you reach the third level, you're going to need to turn yourself around one hundred and eighty degrees so you can bend at the waist. Then once you get back into the lateral duct, you can spin back onto your stomach." Rapp mimicked the maneuver with his hand. "From there, you crawl down to the first grate, and that's where you should have a view into the room just outside the bunker. Don't hang around long. This should take no more than a minute. Note how many people you see, if any, and what type of equipment. Then tug on the shoestring, and we'll pull you right back up."

Rielly nodded, her face tense with nervousness.

"And don't forget to flip back over on your back so you can make the turn when we're pulling you back up."

"All right, let's get going before I change my mind." Rielly rolled over onto her stomach and started squeezing into the vent. "Three tugs." That was it, and then she wiggled her thin body into the air duct.

It was cramped and dusty. Rielly doubted that Rapp could have fit in the duct, and if he could have, there wouldn't have been any room left for him to maneuver. It didn't take long to reach the shaft. As Rapp had said, it was maybe ten feet. Rielly paused at the top, only her fingertips and chin hanging over the edge. There was just enough light for her to see the bottom. It wasn't as far as she had expected. Slowly she started down. Her arms first, her head, then her whole upper body. After that the rope became tight and Rapp and Adams began to lower her. Rielly remembered what Rapp had said, and when she neared the bottom, she spun herself around so she could bend at the waist and make the turn.

She pulled herself into the lateral duct and rested for a second. The knots felt a little tight on her ankles, but were bearable. After gathering herself, she spun back onto her stomach, and that was when she heard it. A whining noise. The sound of machinery working. The sound of a drill. Rielly's heart rate quickened. The first vent was just ahead on her right. From where she was positioned, she felt as though she could almost reach out and touch it.

With some reservation she inched forward several feet and stopped. The noise had not gone away. As slowly as she could, Rielly scooted forward an inch at a time, using all of her concentration to make sure no noise was made. The duct became brighter with the light from the hallway. As she neared the grate, she grew nervous at how well she could see her hands.

Approaching the vent, she could start to see the off-white wall of hallway. The cover had a series of vertical slats that were angled to force the air down. Rielly laid her head flat so she could try to get a look straight down the hallway and into the bunker. What she saw caused her to hold her breath. Straight ahead, just down the hall, was the shiny vault door to the president's bunker, and attached to it were the objects that were making the noise she had been hearing. Drills of some sort. Three of them. One big and two small. Rielly moved her head around and tried to get better angles of the anteroom but could find none. On the floor there appeared to be a variety of toolboxes and some tanks. She could see only part of the room because the first door was not swung all the way open.

Rielly was finishing her inventory of what little she could see and was preparing to reach for the string around her neck when a man appeared. He came into her view from a part of the room that she could not see. Rielly's first reaction was to move back a little out of fear that he might be able to see her. She quickly realized this was stupid and told herself to calm down. The man, who looked more like a plumber than a terrorist, approached the drills with a cup in his hand. He touched the casings of each one with his hand and then went about measuring their progress with a tape measure.

Oh, this was going to be one hell of a story, Rielly thought to herself. She watched the man for another couple seconds and then tugged on the shoestring three times. After a slight pause she began sliding back down the vent.

* * *

Jack Warch had decided on a course of action. He wanted to build a consensus among his agents first and then bring his plan to the president. He didn't want any surprised faces if the president asked them for their opinion. Warch had taken a minute or two with each agent, and all of them had enthusiastically backed their boss's idea.

Now came the hard part. President Hayes was sitting next to Valerie Jones on one of the couches playing a game of gin. Before walking over, Warch checked the door one more time. All indications were that they were running out of time.

Walking across the carpeting, Warch stopped just on the other side of one of the longer couches and cleared his throat. When the president looked up, he said, "Excuse me, sir. Do you have a second?"

The president looked back at the discard pile and said, "Sure." Hayes closed his hand and set it facedown on the table. "Excuse me, Val." After getting up, he walked around the couches and joined Warch, who had walked over to the corner by the bathroom.

"What is it, Jack?"

"Sir, I want you to hear me out before you say anything." Warch gave his boss a stern look that told him he was very serious. Hayes nodded, and Warch continued. "I have an idea. One that I think will work, but it's going to take some balls on our part and a little bit of risk."

"Okay, let's hear it."

"I want to start out by saying that just sitting here is not a good option. Every one of my agents is willing to sacrifice his life for you, so I want you to stop thinking about us. We volunteered for this duty and we all knew what the risks were when we signed."

Hayes started to shake his head. "I'm not going to change my mind, Jack. There's been enough bloodshed. When that door opens, we are going to surrender peacefully and take our chances."

Warch snapped at the president, "Let me finish!"

Hayes backed up a half a step in surprise and nodded his consent for the special agent to continue.

Warch composed himself and started again. "We," he said, pointing to himself, "are not what is at issue here. You are what is at issue, and not just you as a person but you as the president. In the big picture, all of our lives"   Warch pointed to the other agents in the room   "don't add up to one president. The president must be protected at all costs. That's my first point." Warch held up his forefinger. "My second point is that just laying our weapons down and surrendering doesn't guarantee us anything. Who's to say they won't line us up and shoot every single one of us, including you?"

The president thought about it for a moment and then said, "There are no guarantees, Jack, but I don't see any other alternative."

"I have one. It's a little daring, but it's a heck of a lot better than sitting around and waiting for them to open the door."

"What is it?"

"It's something they'll never expect. We have nine highly trained agents in this room. Three of them have served on the Counter Assault Team and have extensive training in hostage situations. My proposal is"   Warch paused and took a big breath   "that instead of waiting for them to get this door open, we open it ourselves and catch them off guard."

The president frowned.

"Hear me out, sir. We have the firepower to get you out of here, and we'll have the element of surprise on our side."

Hayes folded his arms across his chest and thought about it for a moment. looking at Warch, he said, "Tell me more. If we're going to do this, we need a game plan."

* * *

When they pulled her out of the vent, her black sweat suit was covered in dust, as was a healthy portion of her ponytail, Rielly flipped over onto her back and sat up. Rapp and Adams were poised just above her, eagerly awaiting the report.

Remembering to keep her voice at a whisper, Rielly nodded her head vigorously. "They're doing it. They've made it through that outer door you told me about, and they're working on the big shiny door that leads to the bunker."

"With what?" asked Adams

"I'm not sure." Rielly gestured with her hands. "I think they're drills. At least that's what they sounded like. The guy who's down there pulled out a tape measure and held it up to the door."

Adams tried to ask another question, but Rapp stuck his hand out and stopped him. "From the top," he said to Rielly. "What did you see?"

Rielly took a deep breath and let her hands fall to her lap. "I saw three objects attached to the door. Like I said, I think they were drills. On the floor there were two boxes . . . like toolboxes. One was red and the other one was gray." Rielly stopped and tried to remember every detail. "There was one man. He walked from the left side of the room, where I couldn't see him because that first door isn't swung all the way open." Rielly's eyes danced over her story as she picture it. "The ma had a cup in his hand   it was probably coffee   and he walked over to the drills." Rielly's left hand was cupped as if she were carrying a mug and the right was held flat. "He placed his hand on the drills . . . I think he was checking to see how warm they were."

Adams nodded knowingly. "He's afraid they're gonna burn out on him."

Rielly shrugged. "Well, after he was done doing that, he pulled out a tape measure and held it alongside each drill."

"What did he look like?" asked Rapp.

"Not like the others."

"You didn't see him when you were being held in the mess?"

"No."

"How did he look different?"

"He was"   Rielly searched for the right adjective   "pudgy and I guess a little older."

"How old?"

"I'd guess late forties to fifty."

"Was he armed?"

This one stumped Rielly. Her eyes looked to the ceiling while she tried to remember. After a moment she shook her head and said, "I'm not sure."

Rapp accepted the answer and tried to think if he was missing anything. "Did you see anyone else? Hear anything else? Anything you can think of?"

Rielly shook her head. "Nope. I wasn't down there very long."

Rapp reached down and started untying the rope. "Nice work, Anna. Now I want you to wait here while I go back upstairs and report in. I think we're gonna have some more work to do, but I have to let them know that their hunch was right."

Rapp finished untying the rope and stood. Reaching for his gun, he said, "Milt, let's go."

Adams struggled up from one knee and pointed at his feet. "What do I do about shoelaces?"

After looking at Rielly's white stockinged feet, Rapp said, "Take the boots off and go in your socks. We're just going up and right back down."

Adams took the boots off, and then moving toward the door with Rapp, he said sheepishly, "Mitch, I have to go pee again."

Rapp looked at him sideways. Something clicked in his head, and he stopped. Turning back to Rielly, he asked, "Anna, did you say the guy was drinking coffee?"

Rielly nodded. "I think so."

Rapp smiled and glanced at Adams. "Milt, you're a genius."