The Krakow Klub (50 page)

Normally, the White House grounds were under
the protection of the Uniformed Division of the Secret Service.
They
are all trained
in police tactics and
procedures,
and many of them had police
backgrounds.

Inside the White House, the Secret Service
was in control of protection. The two groups worked for the same
agency, but other than that, they had had little in common
traditionally. Agents usually interacted with agents and UD
personnel interacted with UD personnel. In the past, there had been
some rather thorny issues between the two groups, such as
recognition and pay scale.

Now Carla Montrose, master of chaos, had seen
fit to cause an additional rift between the two groups. She was
well aware of the issues between them and took pleasure in pitting
one side against the other just for her amusement.

To make things even worse, she had ordered a
light armored brigade to protect the White House grounds. Both
groups were quietly incensed and insulted.

The Uniformed Division interpreted the action
as a direct insult to their professionalism. The Secret Service
agents fumed that their authority was being
usurped
and that they should never, ever have to answer
to the military.

The truth was quite simple and had nothing to
do with either group. Erik Stoellar had simply ordered Montrose to
surround the White House with this hand-picked brigade. Not
surprisingly, the commander of the brigade answered directly to the
Krakow Klub and would follow orders without question.

Montrose had now brought the morale of the
people charged with protecting her to an all-time low. The only
ones who were seemingly unaffected were the four agents that she
had brought with her. The four burly men were trained and paid by
the Krakow Klub,
and
that’s where their
loyalties lay.

The regular agents continued faithfully in
their
duties,
but they no longer had that
razor sharp instinct to jump into a hail of bullets directed at the
president.
Several, truth be known, would have
probably chosen to duck for cover.
Under the circumstances,
no one could blame them. This president had already harangued and
verbally abused her protectors more than one could imagine. It was
an untenable situation for the elite group.

At this time, in the
early
morning, the White House grounds were usually very
quiet with little activity anywhere. Today was no exception. The
plainclothes
Secret Service agents were all
inside the White House. The Uniformed Division officers, usually
outside,
were assigned
to the Capitol building
for the morning. The orders were unprecedented and
provocative,
but it probably saved their lives.

The grounds of the White House were now
protected only by the military.

****

PFC Ahmed Wilson, a member of the Stryker
Brigade guarding Washington, was assigned to the White House
platoon and was stationed to guard the south entrance to the West
Wing. He had grown up in a rather dangerous and disagreeable area
of Washington, DC, and had experienced several minor brushes with
the law by the time he was fourteen.

As soon as he was old enough, he had joined
the army. Even with his rather limited intelligence and even less
ambition, he knew that the military offered an escape from a life
that had little to offer other than gang membership followed by a
string of prison terms.

Much to his mother’s relief, he was accepted
into the army after barely passing his final exams to graduate from
high school. She would forever believe that the school passed him
because they couldn’t afford to have so many students who couldn’t
meet the minimal requirements for graduating.

Now, after four years in the military, he had
been issued live ammunition for the first time. That alone had made
him nervous. Then, to add to his nervousness
,
he had been among those assigned to guard the White
House grounds.

Like most of the other enlisted men in this
particular brigade, he had been selected because he was not very
intelligent, not motivated, and not suspicious of anything that he
might see or hear. He would just follow his orders without question
or curiosity. Nevertheless, he was nervous and on edge just like
almost everyone else in the country. He could almost see an enemy
lurking behind every shrub. Every shadow posed a threat. Every
sound was something ominous.

His daydreaming was interrupted by a sudden
flash
in
his peripheral vision. He wheeled
around but saw nothing. Whatever it was, it was gone now. Then, he
almost dropped his rifle to the ground. Suddenly, a tall man was
standing directly in front of him on the lawn. The man looked
straight into his
eyes,
and that look was not
friendly.

He yelled out, “Halt! Who goes there?” At the
same
time,
he brought his M16 up and pointed
it at the person now standing less than twenty feet away.

Then it happened! As the tall man raised his
arms above his head, PFC Wilson unintentionally fired his M16. The
salvo was at almost point blank range.

That would have been bad
enough,
but PFC Wilson had been passing the time by
aimlessly checking and rechecking his rifle. He was proud to have
been issued live ammunition but wasn’t comfortable with the thought
of using it. Unfortunately for him, he had unintentionally left the
weapon in
full-automatic
firing mode.

Although PFC Wilson only pressed the trigger
for a fraction of a second, the M16 in full automatic mode fired at
least five rounds almost instantaneously.

The gravity shield that surrounded John Scott
prevented him from any harm but the damage had been done. The
shuttle craft, immediately behind him, detected the incoming fire
and recognized it as a threat. The craft, faster than the eye could
see, left stealth mode and fired a single photon bullet into PFC
Wilson’s M16 rifle
that
he had been holding
near his midsection. It exploded with a blinding flash of red
light. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground in two charred
pieces that crackled and smoked from the incredible heat generated
by the photon weapon. It was a grotesque sight.

John was horrified, but he did not have the
time to do anything except yell, “NO!”

Wilson’s gunfire alerted other brigade
members who responded immediately with an assortment of weapons
that included rifles, light machine guns, and even a fifty caliber
machine gun.

John was yanked back inside the
shuttlecraft. It then quickly rose about one hundred fifty feet
into the air. In less than a few seconds of time, photon bullets,
and photon torpedoes burst from ports around the perimeter of the
craft soundlessly.
The fiery red trails from the photon
bullets flashed briefly and gave the remote craft an appearance of
a giant spider with blood red legs.

Since the remote was not in stealth mode, all
four Stryker vehicles as well as the individual troops had
opened
fire on the strange craft. In those few
seconds of all out defensive action, the remote had responded to
the incoming fire by taking out the entire platoon of
soldiers
and all four of the light armored vehicles. All
were reduced to
smoldering
cinders leaving
blackened areas smoking on the lawn and in the streets surrounding
the White House.

Immediately after the firestorm, the craft
rapidly settled back down on the South Lawn as if nothing had
happened.

John, although devastated
by
what had just happened, yelled to the president and
Jim, “Let’s go. We have to get inside the West Wing before the
military can react and send reinforcements.”

The three of them dashed towards the entrance
in a crouching run with their heads lowered.

****

Lucas Siegel had been a Secret Service agent
for more than ten years and had served on the White House detail
for two years of that time. He heard the disturbance on the South
Lawn and being the closest, rushed to the south entrance. Just as
he opened the door to see what was happening outside, he came face
to face with three men rushing directly at him.

Lucas instantly reached for his service
weapon and was about to fire when he stopped dead in his tracks and
lowered his gun. He was face to face with the recently assassinated
president of the United States.

Wilkinson recognized him and pointed a finger
at his chest. “Stand down, Lucas, that’s an order.”

Lucas stood still with a shocked look on his
face. The three men rushed past him and into the building. Lucas
then followed them.

Once they were all safely inside, the
president spoke to the stunned agent immediately and in a kindly
voice, “Lucas.
You have
always served me
faithfully. I know that you can’t believe your
eyes,
but you’re going to have to trust me. I’m alive and
well, and I’m still your president.

“Right now, we’re in a critical situation.
The noises that you heard outside were the sounds of gunfire. Many
are already
dead,
and we’ve got to stop this
carnage before more lives are lost. I need you to get me to the
Oval Office as quickly as possible so that I can address the
nation.”

Lucas was still ashen and thought that he
must be hallucinating. How could this apparition be real? The
president was dead. He had seen the newscasts and heard
first-hand
accounts from other agents. He had
been trained
for every type of emergency and every
dangerous
situation,
but this was totally
unprecedented. He had no idea of what to say or do.

Not only was he shocked at the sight of the
president, but also, he was incredulous that gunfire had erupted
and that there had already been deaths. Had the terrorists struck
again at the nation’s very heart?

After a few seconds, he pulled himself
together and saluted the president sharply. His superb training and
conditioning had kicked
in,
and he was now in
control of the situation.

“Mr. President, forgive my lax moment. You
can count on me and most of the other agents to protect you from
harm.”

John broke into the conversation, “Lucas, the
assassination attempt was made by a covert group intent on taking
over the government. They’ve already infiltrated the military and
even Congress. In fact, some of your
group
may
now be in their pay. Think carefully, have you seen or heard
anything that might be suspicious in these circumstances?”

“Sir, I can vouch for all of the regular
agents. We’re a close
bunch,
and I’m sure that
I would have picked up on it if something
were
amiss in our usual crew. However, President Montrose brought in
four new agents. They don’t mix much with the rest of us,
and
they don’t seem to fit the mold. As far as
I’m concerned, they look and act more like cheap hired guns. The
other agents, down to every single person, have no respect for
Montrose. In fact, our code name for her is Viper and it certainly
fits.”

The president replied, “Thanks, I’m going to
have to trust your judgment. Now, we need your help. We need to
make arrangements for me to make that address to the nation
immediately.

“We’ve got to get to the Oval Office without
being discovered by
Montrose,
so we’re going
to have to place ourselves in your hands. We’ve got to stop this
attempted coup before it goes any further.

“I understand that my secretary is still here
facilitating the transition to the Montrose staff. I need for you
to call her and tell her that I’m still alive and that I’m going to
make an address from the Oval Office. Tell her that I only want one
camera. We’ve got to keep this under the
radar,
so Montrose isn’t suspicious that something’s
going on. If she finds out that I’m here, it could be
disastrous.”

John, obviously a bit startled, interrupted,
“Montrose is in the White House?”

Lucas replied, “Yes, she is working on a
speech in the Lincoln Room and has asked not to be disturbed.”

John tried to not appear as stunned as he
was. He mentally said to himself,
But Montrose is in custody
aboard
my space station. How
can she be here?

Wilkinson rushed through a brief explanation
for Lucas. “Montrose is a central player. She reports directly to
the head of the
organization,
and she’s
already responsible for several deaths in the military. She is to
be taken into custody
immediately,
and I don’t
have to remind you that she’s dangerous and probably psychotic to
boot.”

“Mr. President, things have been in a state
of chaos ever since she was sworn in. She’s totally out of
control,
and her actions confirm it.

“No one can understand why she moved Congress
and all of the other VIPs out of Washington. They could easily have
been protected
here. It just didn’t make
sense.

“I understand
that
under
the circumstances, the military had to become
involved,
but she went full-out and declared martial law.
That’s totally unprecedented. After what you’ve just told me, her
actions are beginning to make sense. If she’s part of the plot,
then I can assure you that the Secret Service will take great pride
in defanging the Viper and her crew.”

He continued, “I’m going to contact Jonathon
Gordon. You know him; he’s the senior agent on duty. We need good
people to back us up if we’re going to succeed. He’s going to be
overjoyed that you’re still alive and that Montrose isn’t the real
president.”