Absolute Damage, page 2
At least he told himself that.
They stopped by the break room for coffee before heading to Jess’s office. Jess gleefully recounted the latest Fright Night movie she had watched, this one about a guy who had been burned at a summer camp twenty years ago then come back to chop up some teenagers with a chainsaw. Lovely film.
Jake tried to pay attention, but his mind kept returning to Trident. What were Bard and Drew planning this time?
It was possible that they weren’t planning anything. Their organization had been completely devastated by the attack three months ago. They could simply be hiding and licking their wounds. They could even have decided that this life wasn’t for them and be living under assumed names in some backwater country somewhere.
But somehow, Jake doubted that.
His phone buzzed, and when Jake read the text, he received confirmation of his fear. The text was from a private number. That in itself was an indication of the suspicious nature of the sender. The Secret Service phones were supposed to be able to identify any number, even private callers.
Then there was the text itself. Your big fish is about to leave his small pond. Take care he doesn’t swim into the wrong net.
Jess noticed Jake’s frown. “What is it?”
He showed her the text, and she whistled. “Lovely guy. Any idea who it is?”
“Well, I have an idea, but an idea isn’t going to help me find him.”
She smiled slightly. “Do I hear a request for a favor coming?”
“Technically speaking, it’s not a favor if I’m asking you to do your job.”
Jess adopted a mock offended tone and said, “Technically speaking, a little politeness never hurt anyone, not even big, bad, gruff Secret Service agents. But yes, I’ll see if I can trace the call.”
He handed her his phone and said, “Don’t read the texts between me and Sheila.”
“Oh yeah,” she quipped, “because I totally want to read all bout the sex you guys have.”
“I didn’t say we texted each other about sex.”
“I still don’t want to read them.”
Jake rolled his eyes and let the subject drop.
Their flight left in three hours. Jake typed up the plan and left it on Art’s desk, then endured a highly uncomfortable car ride with the Director to Andrews Air Force base. When he left the vehicle and saw Sheila standing nervously next to her father in front of Air Force One, he resigned himself to an equally uncomfortable flight.
Well, no one ever said this job would be easy.
CHAPTER TWO
“You’re kidding me,” Jake said.
Francois Barbier, the mustachioed, surly Republican Guard Colonel in charge of protection for the event, scowled harder. “I assure you, I am not.”
The two of them stood outside of a Paris Metro subway station where, Jake had just been informed, the President would exit a subway car into an armored vehicle that would take him to a completely different hotel than the one Jake and his team had prepared for.
“Why weren’t we briefed about this?” Jake asked. “For God’s sake, we developed an entire plan based on the Hotel Nationale and an aboveground route using city streets. Now you’re telling me that the President is going to be taking an underground train to and from a hotel five miles away from the summit?”
“As is every other foreign dignitary, yes.”
Jake pressed his hands to his temples and made no attempt to hide his irritation. “Why?”
“Guard leadership believes it will be easier to secure the metro railway than it will be to secure an entire block of skyscrapers.”
Is Guard leadership fucking stupid? Jake just managed to avoid asking. What he asked instead was, “So what is the security arrangement?”
“The dignitaries will be escorted directly to and from the Hotel Chevalier to the venue. Each car will be staffed with highly trained members of the guard—”
“Yeah, I’m going to stop you right there. The President’s car will be staffed entirely by my handpicked U.S. Secret Service Agents. This includes everyone but the person driving the train, and he will be watched by two agents at all times.”
“Of course, sir,” Barbier said, a touch of dry mirth in his tone.
Of course, he thought this was funny. No doubt he saw Jake as simply another American parading around like their country got to dictate everything.
Well, when it came to the President’s safety, they did get to dictate everything.
“Shall I continue?” Barbier asked.
“Go ahead.”
“The trains shall depart each morning at eight o’clock. They shall depart the venue for the hotel at the pleasure of the dignitaries. We will adjust the rail’s schedule accordingly to ensure that space is made.”
Jake did a double-take at that. "The rail will still operate as scheduled?"
“Yes, sir.”
“In the middle of the G7 summit?”
“I presume that New York’s subway system continues to operate during U.N. summits.”
Jake pursed his lips. “Yes, but you won’t find U.N. ambassadors taking the damned subway.”
Jess touched Jake’s elbow, a move designed to calm him that had the unintended effect of infuriating him instead. It did remind him to get his emotions under control, however. There was no point in arguing right now. The situation was what it was, and the best thing Jake could do was adjust as well as possible.
“Okay,” he said. “Can I at least expect that the hotel will be clear of civilians?”
"By civilians, I assume you mean civilians not attached to the summit."
Jake would have gladly suffered a suspension for the right to punch this smarmy asshole in the nose. “Yes, Monsieur Colonel, civilians not attached to the summit.”
“Of course. The hotel will remain as it is now—the private residence of the visiting foreign leaders.”
“Wonderful. Any changes to the venue I need to know about? Actually, forget that last part. Any changes at all, regardless of what you think I need to know?"
"None. The change in accommodations was made due to the Guard's belief that open-air transportation rendered the visitors unacceptably vulnerable to sniper fire.”
Jake could spend all day arguing about why that was an incredibly stupid belief, but it wouldn't be worth his time. The decision had been made, and the event was tomorrow. The Guard wasn't going to change anything now.
“All right,” Jake said. “If anything else does change, I need to know about it yesterday. Do you understand?”
Finally, Barbier’s amusement vanished. “We will keep foreign security forces apprised of any necessary changes.”
“You’ll keep me apprised of every goddamn thing that happens. If your lunch break takes place fifteen minutes earlier, you’ll tell me. I don’t give a shit how highly ranked you are compared to me. When it comes to the security of the President, I am God. Do you understand?”
“I think you’ll find all of the men and women in your position feel the same,” Barbier replied, “including myself.”
Before Jake could retort again, Jess grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Jake was about to defend himself when he saw Jess struggling to hide laughter. “Why is this funny?” he asked. “Look at this place, it’s a zoo.”
The metro station was indeed very busy. Jake was used to Washington D.C. traffic, but D.C. traffic was all vehicle traffic. It was a different experience to have tens of thousands of people forced into a space the size of a modest grocery store. Jake stood behind a small cordon, but he still felt crowded by the sea of faces surrounding him. God, someone could get a megaphone and announce that they were going to kill the President, kill him, take selfies over the body and walk away and no one would ever notice.
Jake noticed, though. Not someone killing the President, who, along with his family, Art and the rest of the Secret Service complement was at the Hotel Chevalier, but someone doing something very suspicious.
The person in question looked to be in his early forties. He had a slightly chubby build that suggested good genes allowed to go to waste due to a sedentary lifestyle. His close-cropped brown hair sat over equally drab eyes and a weak chin, and he wore baggy pants and a shirt too tight for his body.
The suspicious act in question was leaving a box on a bench near the platform that only hours from now the President would be waiting on. That in and of itself wouldn’t be too suspicious, but the man looked around surreptitiously before walking away. Possibly making sure authorities didn’t see him?
“Hey!” Jake called, jogging closer to the man. “Hey! You left your package!”
“Try it in French,” Jess suggested over the earpiece.
“I don’t speak French.”
“Then try it without sounding terrifying.”
Jake rolled his eyes. His quarry continued to walk, and he no longer had time to wait for the package. "Look, Jess, I'm going after him. Get a bomb squad here to handle this package and let Colonel Stuffed Shirt know he needs to evacuate the area for a possible bomb threat."
"Will do."
He sprinted after the man, weaving his way through the crowd and fixating on the short brown hair. The man moved casually and unhurriedly, but he seemed to glide swiftly through the crowd nonetheless.
A chime sounded, then a pleasant voice announced the coming train. Jake jostled his way through the crowd and tried to call for the suspect to stop, but his voice was drowned out by the murmur of the crowd and the roar of the train.
The train stopped, and the doors opened, allowing a stream of people to flood out into the platform. Jake tapped his earpiece. “Jess, what’s going on?”
“I’m aboveground with Barbier, so you’ll have to tell me. His men are clearing space around the package.”
“I don’t want him to clear space around the package, I want him to evacuate the platform!”
“He says it’s not possible. Not until the bomb squad has confirmed that it’s an explosive device.”
“What? Are you…” Jake stopped when he saw his quarry getting onto the train. He swore and ran after him, narrowly missing the closing doors. His target worked his way through the train to the most forward car. Jake tried to follow, but the steadily increasing crush of people soon prevented him from moving, and he had to settle for keeping his eyes on the man from a distance.
“So he wants to get aboveground, but his citizens can go screw themselves?”
“There’s a limit to what I can do, Jake,” Jess said, a touch of irritation creeping into her voice. “This isn’t the United States. I have a bomb squad on the way, and he’s clearing space. That’s all he’s willing to do.”
Jake sighed. “Okay, well, get yourself to safety at least. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and the bomb will go off right when Colonel Barbier is inspecting it.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” Jess responded. “How goes the chase?”
“Terrible. I’m literally packed in here like a sardine in a can. My guy is the next car up and standing right next to a door. He’ll be the first one out, and at this rate, I might not be getting out until the train reached its final destination.”
“Calm down, Jake,” Jess said. “Just focus on the target.”
Jake sighed and tried to do just that.
The man stood calmly. His expression seemed almost bored.
That didn’t necessarily mean anything. While Jake had met few terrorists capable of that level of calm, he had met many paramilitary and military agents who, with proper training, could navigate all sorts of situations without showing any sign of emotion.
And Bard was a former Secret Service agent renowned for his stoicism under fire.
The train kept going. It stopped several times, but the target remained on board. Jake tapped his earpiece. “Jess, do you know how far I’ve gone?”
“According to your tracker, you’re ten miles from us now.”
He sighed. “All right, well, this guy’s still on the train, so… hold that thought.”
He heard a chime that signaled the train was approaching its final destination. “Okay, Jess, we’re about to move.”
“Be careful, Jake.”
“That guy should be a lot more worried than I am,” Jake said.
“Jake—”
“I’ll be careful. I’m just pissed.”
“That’s what I mean. When you’re pissed, you get reckless. You need to be careful not to be reckless.”
Jake sighed. “Good point. Okay, he’s moving. Gotta go.”
The target exited the train, and, as Jake had feared, it was several minutes before he could finally get off the train himself. The crowd was crushing. When Jake finally stepped onto the street and had room to move, he had lost his quarry.
He resisted the urge to shout in frustration and looked calmly around the debarking passengers for sign of his target. Finally, he caught a glimpse of a tight t-shirt and baggy sweatpants disappearing down a side street just past the platform. He swore under his breath and ran after him.
“Jess, I’m pursuing on foot. I’m…” he looked around. “I’m in what appears to be an industrial park. I can’t see street signs from here, but there’s a bunch of warehouses and—”
“Just find the guy. Then you can bring him wherever you want.”
“Well, the problem is I might not be able to find him. He’s at least three minutes ahead of me.”
“Do your best, Jake. I’m sure everything will be okay.”
“The condescension really helps, Jess. Keep it up.”
“I will. Being an asshole helps too.”
Jake sighed. “I’ll apologize later.”
He rounded the corner of the side street, and his target was nowhere to be found. He jogged down the street, drawing curious looks from the pedestrians on either side. “Jess, it looks like I’ve turned down a residential street. Working class houses, not many cars. Two story rowhouses, mostly.”
“Yes, I see where you are. The industrial park behind you belongs to Paris Steel. The neighborhood houses primarily employees of theirs. No sign of the target?”
“Nothing.”
He jogged another mile before accepting that he wasn’t going to catch up. He sighed and slowed to a stop, resting his knees on his thighs. He was far from physically exhausted, but today had been one disappointment after another, and he was growing tired of things being difficult.
He would have to get used to that, though. Before he could officially cease the pursuit, Jess said, “Jake. We need you back here urgently. There’s been a viral outbreak in the metro station.”
CHAPTER THREE
"Jake, we need you back here.”
Jess’s voice sounded tense. Jake frowned. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a viral outbreak at the station.”
“A viral outbreak?”
“Well, I’m assuming it’s viral. The symptoms check out.”
“Symptoms?”
“Sneezing, coughing, flushed faces.”
With every question answered, Jake only grew more confused. “Jess, what the hell are you talking about? A few people are sneezing and coughing, and it’s an outbreak?”
"Not a few people. A train just pulled up to the platform, and every person on board came out choking and gasping for air. I was able to get the package out of the station before the chaos ensued, but—”
“You carried a potential bomb out of the station?”
“No! Jake, pay attention! I arranged for the bomb squad to remove the bomb, and they did. Shortly after, the next train docked, and the sick people came out. They were clearly not sick with a normal virus, because several of them are already dead, and security footage shows they were healthy when they boarded the train. Barbier managed to quarantine the sick individuals onto that platform, but the healthy people are panicking, and they only had masks available to protect the guards, so no one knows how long before they get sick too.”
“All right,” Jake said. Now that he had a handle on the situation, he was able to think of a plan. “Okay, I’m on my way back. I won’t be able to take a train, since I’m assuming this will be enough to shut the metro down. It'll take me at least a half hour, probably more, depending on how soon I can hail a cab. In the meantime, I want you to brief Art on the situation. Tell him the metro is a no-go for transportation. We're finding an alternate way to and from the venue.”
“Does he even know the Republican Guard changed transportation to the metro?”
“I don’t know or care. It’s not happening that way now. Once Art is apprised of the situation, I need you to set up a medical response. I want everyone on that platform checked before they leave. I want the sick people cared for by real doctors.”
“We’re greatly overstepping our authority here, Jake.”
“Yes we are. Because once again, no one else knows what the hell they’re doing.”
“Story of our lives.”
“Where are you right now?”
“I’m aboveground watching thousands of people beg me to let them out of the metro station.”
Jake could hear the anxiety in Jess’s voice. “Tell them you have medical assistance on the way. Will the gates hold until assistance arrives?”
“I think so.”
“Think isn’t good enough, so I want you to get somewhere safe as you coordinate all of this.”
“Okay, but what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get back to you, then make sure that everything I just told you to do is running smoothly.”
He hailed a cab and lowered his voice so he didn’t alarm the driver. “Chevaliers station, please.”
The cabby nodded and started driving. “Okay, Jess, I’m twenty minutes out now.”
“Okay. Barbier’s onboard with the plan, but his guards are getting restless. They don’t want to get sick.”
“I know. Tell him to do whatever he can. If this virus isn’t contained, we’re looking at a much bigger problem than we’re facing now.”
