Transfer of Power

chapter 46

The conference room at the Counterterrorism Center at Langley was bustling with action. The room was actually a room within a room. Built several feet off the floor and surrounded on four sides by glass, it was enveloped in an electromagnetic field that made eavesdropping impossible, Irene Kennedy stood at the front of the room with General Campbell as the meeting attendees filed in.

Director Roach and Special Agent Skip McMahon of the FBI entered the room with Thomas Stansfield holding on to each man's elbow. The elderly director of the Central Intelligence Agency led them to where Kennedy was standing.

Stansfield released his grip on the men and said, "Irene, I was just filling in Brian and Skip on Iron Man." After hanging up with the president, Stansfield had sealed off the control room. No one was to breathe a word that they had reestablished contact with the president. Stansfield, Flood, Campbell, and Kennedy were the only people outside the control room that knew. The men from the FBI would be informed of this piece of information by the president himself.

Kennedy was half ready to have Skip McMahon chew her head off, until Stansfield said, "I was telling Skip and Brian that you had wanted to let them in on what we were doing with Iron Man. I take full responsibility for this, gentlemen, and I have good reasons for doing so."

"Such as?" asked an edgy Skip McMahon.

Stansfield played his old man status for all it was worth. Reaching out, he patted McMahon's large forearm and said, "That's why I like you, Skip. Always vigilant, always pressing for the whole story."

"That's right. So let's hear it."

"I'm afraid that will have to happen during a later conversation. Right now I have something I think you will be far more interested in. Now, if you will please take your seats, we need to get started." Stansfield gestured to two chairs near Kennedy, and McMahon and Roach sat. Stansfield turned to Kennedy and said, "Let's get started." The director walked to the far end of the table and sat next to General Flood.

The attendees at the meeting were chosen on a need-to-know basis. The secretaries of state and defense were bypassed, as were several other high-ranking officials. Stansfield, Flood, and the president had agreed that, for now, only a select few would be told that contact had been made with the president and that his life was in danger. Those selected, other than those already mentioned, were the commanders of HRT, Delta Force, and SEAL Team Six.

One of Kennedy's people closed the airtight door to the conference room, and Kennedy pressed a switch that lowered dark blinds over the glass walls. Standing at the front of the room next to General Campbell, Kennedy started off by saying, "Gentlemen, what General Campbell and I are about to tell you doesn't leave this room. You don't tell the people on your teams, you don't tell your bosses, you don't tell your wives."

General Campbell stepped forward. "I can promise all of you"   Campbell eyeballed the three commanders of the elite counterterrorist strike teams   "if I find out you breathed a word of this information to anyone, I will make sure your career is ended." Campbell waited to get a nod from each of the three commanders.

Behind Kennedy and Campbell were five TVs. Four twenty-five-inchers and one thirty-six-incher. Kennedy dimmed the overhead lights, and then with a remote control she turned on the TVs. Dead center, on the thirty-six-inch TV, was the live feed of the bunker door.

"As all of you know, the president was evacuated to his bunker in the initial minutes of the assault. Shortly thereafter, we lost the ability to communicate with him due to the fact that Aziz was using a state-of-the-art mobile jamming unit that he conveniently borrowed from the Secret Service's arsenal. Yesterday evening we were able to sneak two individuals into the White House. One is a civilian with intimate knowledge of the White House, and the second is a counterterrorism specialist who for our purposes we will refer to as Iron Man. The images that you see on the screens behind me are provided from surveillance units they have in place in the White House.

Kennedy turned around and pointed at the middle screen. "For those of you who haven't figured it out, this is a shot of the door that leads to the president's bunker. This slovenly man that you see moving about is Mustafa Yassin, an Iraqi who specializes in breaking into vaults. These three objects you see attached to the door are drills. We have no idea how far along they are in this process, but we are not going to wait around for them to succeed." Kennedy pressed a button on the remote, and a white screen lowered from the ceiling. On it was an overhead view of the White House compound. Turning to General Campbell, she signaled for him to take over.

Campbell pointed to the West Wing and said, "The bulk of the hostages are being held in the White House mess on the ground floor. Intelligence form the FBI and the NSA leads us to believe that there is a second, smaller group of hostages being held in the Roosevelt Room on the main floor. Iron Man thinks this second group of hostages consists of any Secret Service or military personnel that are still alive. Dr. Kennedy and I agree."

Sid Slater, the special agent in charge of the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team, raised his hand. The general looked at him and said, "Sid?"

"Do we have any video on the hostages?"

"I'm afraid not. At least not at this point. We don't have a lot of time, which brings me to my next point. H-hour is set for twenty-thirty."

"Whoa," proclaimed Director Roach of the FBI. "The order's been given to go in?"

"That's affirmative," said General Flood from the other end of the room.

Roach looked at his watch. It was several minutes past five in the evening. "Baxter gave you the go-ahead?" asked the skeptical head of the FBI.

From the overhead speaker system a very familiar voice answered Roach's question. "No, I did."

Half of the faces in the room looked up toward the heavens as if God were speaking to them. President Hayes cleared his throat and said, "Men, I know we're not giving you a lot of time, but I have an immense amount of faith in you. Now, if I may make a suggestion, I think we should all keep a lid on any questions until General Campbell finishes briefing us. General, please continue.

Campbell looked up at the speakers in gratitude and then back at the group. "Gentlemen, we don't have much time, so we're gonna use the KISS rule. HRT"   Campbell tapped the left side of the screen   "the West Wing and the hostages are all yours. Sid, I know you and your people have been working on different scenarios. You are going to need a two-pronged assault at a minimum." Campbell held up his finger and cautioned the stocky head of the Hostage Rescue Team. "We have some ideas for entry, and I'll get to them in a minute."

With his usual precision Campbell did a left face and tapped the roof of the mansion. "Delta Force will be responsible for the mansion." Campbell looked at the unit's CO, Colonel Gray. "Billy, your boys are going in on the Little Birds, and they have to be ready to move lightning fast. Before I get to the master plan, I want to caution everybody that there is a real chance that we might not make it to H-hour. If we get an inkling that they are about to get that bunker door open, we have no choice but to move."

Campbell looked at the commanders for a moment and then held up a file. "What I have here is Commander Harris's briefback." Campbell shook his head. "This is one of the finest, most thorough briefbacks I have ever read. I have to compliment you, Commander Harris, on doing such a fine job on such short notice." Campbell shook the file and looked at the rest of the group. "This thing is a doozy. If Lieutenant Commander Harris hadn't already performed part of this, there is no way he could have sold me on it, but he did." Campbell shook his head. "Here it goes. Almost eight years ago, Commander Harris and three of his fellow SEALs jumped out of a MC-130 Combat Talon in the middle of the night and parachuted onto the roof of the White House undetected by the Secret Service. This was no stunt; it was an exercise that the Secret Service wanted the Navy to help them conduct. The results have been confirmed."

Campbell paused and looked at the group. "I'm sure some of you are wondering why I am even considering a crazy James Bond maneuver like this, and here's my reason. Iron Man has verified that explosive devices have been planted in the mansion. We have separate intelligence that tells us Aziz brought along enough Semtex to level the whole building, which means that most likely any raid will result in the loss of all the hostages and most of the assault teams. Our only chance is to get a group of demolition experts into the building just prior to the assault and figure out a way to disable these bombs. This is what we were trying to do early this morning when one of the men on Commander Harris's team was killed."

Campbell paused for a moment and then said, "Here is how things will go if we make it to H-hour. Commander Harris and three of his men will do a HALO jump out of a Special Forces MC-One-Thirty Combat Talon. Our intel people think the rooftop cameras that monitor the grounds are still operational and being used. Because of this, all four men must land on the roof. Two of SEAL Team Six's best snipers have set up shop four blocks away from the White House in the bell tower of the Old Post Office. Just prior to the landing of the first element, the sentry in the rooftop guard booth will be taken out by the snipers. From there Commander Harris's team will be met by Iron Man, who will lead them via a tunnel that runs from the basement of the mansion over to the West Wing."

Campbell paused for a moment to backtrack. "between now and H-hour, Iron Man will reconnoiter the West Wing and collect as much information as possible. His first priority will be to obtain video surveillance of both groups of hostages. His second task will be to scout out both primary and secondary assault lanes for the Hostage Rescue Team. Having taken care of the that in advance, he will lead Commander Harris's team to open at least one of those lanes, if not both. If Commander Harris and his team fail to open those, we have one other backup in place. Within thirty minutes an Air Force E-Three-A Sentry will be on station above the city. We have reason to believe that Aziz has the ability to detonate the bombs by remote control. We don't know if this remote is radio, cellular, or digital, and we can't take a chance on guessing, so if the order is given, the AWACS will shower the area around the White House with a storm of disruption that will jam everything except the stuff that we are using."

Looking at the commanders of HRT and Delta, Campbell said, "WE considered lighting up the area from the get-go but decided against it. The break in communication may tip them off and allow them to manually detonate the bombs."

There were several moments of silence, and then Slater and Gray looked at each other. They both knew it would do no good to start asking questions. There wasn't enough time to really plan and practice. This would be one of those times that they had talked about during their countless training exercises. This would be one of those times they had feared. A time when they would throw the playbook out the window.

The commander of JSOC looked around the room. After a moment of silence he focused on the warriors to his left. The men who would be going into battle. Speaking as one commando to another, he said, "A thousand things could go wrong at any stage of this operation." The three commanders acknowledged the warning given to them from a decorated soldier with a knowing look. Campbell frowned, biting his lower lip, and then added, "Stay loose . . . Pick your best shooters . . . This one is going to be all instinct and reaction. There's no time to rehearse."

* * *

Rapp and Adams were back in the tiny elevator with all of their equipment, descending to lower levels of the White House. The stash room had served them well, but now they needed to be closer to the action. Before heading up to retrieve their gear, Rapp had affixed one of the surveillance units to the bottom of a fire extinguisher in the hallway. With the jamming unit out of action, Rapp could now speak clearly with the control room at Langley and bypass sticking the fiber-optic snake under the door to check and see if everything was all right.

As the elevator came to a stop, Rapp spoke into his lip mike, "Iron Man to control. We're back in the basement. Give me a check on the hallway."

A monotone male voice came back. "The hallway is clear. Over."

Rapp nodded for Adams to open the door. When Adams did so, Rapp stepped out into the hallway, his MP-10 sweeping from left to right. Adams joined him, and, after closing the outer door to the elevator, they moved quickly down the hall.

With key in hand, the wiry old engineer opened the door to the chine storage room, and the two of them entered. Anna Rielly looked up, relieved they were back.

"How did it go?"

"Fine," answered Rapp as he set his weapon down and started to take the heavy backpack off. "Except Milt had to go to the bathroom again."

"Again?" asked Rielly.

Adams stood there looking at the miniature version of Rapp, with his matching black baseball cap and black Nomex coveralls. Placing his hands on his hips, he shook his head and said, "You two, just wait. I'd like to see you try and do this secret-agent junk when you're my age."

Rapp laughed. "If I could only be lucky enough to live that long."

The statement sobered up Rielly in a snap. She realized that although he had said his statement with levity, he was serious.

Rapp moved his gear to the floor and said, "Milt and I are going to go over the West Wing and check some things out while you wait right here."

"Why can't I come with you?" Rielly asked.

"Because"   Rapp kept a level tone   "this could get real hairy, Anna, and I'm going to have a hard enough time keeping an eye on Milt."

"I promise I won't get in your way. In fact, I could probably be a help."

Rapp shook his head. "It's not going to happen, Anna. And I don't have the time to sit around and discuss it with you. I've been ordered to find out what is going on in the West Wing, and I need to do it quick. Because of the situation with the president, we might be forced to launch a raid at any minute."

Rielly nodded reluctantly. "Is there anything I can do while you're gone?"

"If things proceed as I think they might, there's a chance I might need your help with something later. Okay? For now, just sit here and look pretty."

She gave a fake smile. "Thanks."

"Well"   Rapp stood   "it shouldn't be very hard for you to do." Turning to Adams, he said, "Milt, come here." Adams walked over, and Rapp affixed a small object to the side of his headset. The camera was about three inches long and an inch in diameter, with a lens at the front and a cord at the back that was hooked up to a transmitter. Rapp tucked the transmitter into a pocket on the back of Adams's combat vest, then arranged another camera on his own headset.

Rapp adjusted his lip mike and said, "Iron Man to control. You should have two more feeds from the head-mounted cameras. Can you confirm?"

The reply came over their headsets a second later. "That's affirmative, Iron Man. We are receiving both fees."

With his baseball cap on backward, Rapp swung the arm of his headset up above his forehead and grabbed one of the fanny packs. After strapping it around Adams's waist, he said, "There are ten of the surveillance units in here. We'll decide where to put them when we get over there. Are you ready?"

He nodded.

"All right." Turning back to Rielly, he said, "You should be safe here until we get back."

"What is someone shows up?"

Rapp put a hand on his hip and thought about it. There was a chance he and Adams might not make it back. Grabbing for his thigh holster, he drew his silenced 9-mm Beretta. "You told me your dad taught you how to shoot?"

"Yep."

Rapp checked to make sure the weapon was on safety and then handed it to Rielly. He pointed to a spot on the far wall almost thirty feet away. "You see that scuff mark just above the shelf?"

Rielly nodded.

"She's locked and loaded. One in the chamber and fifteen more in the magazine. Take her off safety, and squeeze one off at the scuff mark." Rapp always felt that you could learn a lot about someone by watching how they handled a firearm.

Rielly held the weapon in both hands confidently.

Keeping it pointed down range, she turned it slightly, and with the thumb of her right hand, she flicked off the safety. She stood with her feet a shoulder width apart and took aim. The silencer made the gun nose heavy, forcing her to adjust for the weight. When he had the scuff mark lined up in the sights, she squeezed the trigger.

There was a spitting noise from the end of the gun, and a split second later the louder noise of the bullet hitting the smooth concrete wall. A chunk the size of a quarter broke free and fell to the floor. Rielly's shot missed the mark by about twelve inches, low and right.

She put the gun back on safety and said, "The silencer makes it heavy."

"But nice and quiet," replied Rapp.

"Yeah." Rielly looked at the smooth black weapon.

"That's not a bad shot. My advice is for you to sit right over there." Rapp pointed toward the door that led into the hallway. "If anyone comes in that door dressed in green fatigues and carrying an AK-74, you put a bullet in his head and ask questions later."

Rielly licked her lips and nodded.

Rapp started back toward the door that led to the tunnel. "Whatever you do, Anna, don't come looking for us. If we're not back within an hour, that means something has gone wrong. You're better off waiting right here until someone from our side comes and gets you."

Rapp turned to Adams, who had the outer door open, and said, "Let's go."

Adams punched the code into the reinforced tunnel door and pushed it in. Rapp followed him into the tunnel and turned to give Rielly a smile and a nod. Then they were gone, the door closed, on their way to the West Wing.