Hostage (32 page)

Sitting on the top step of the Memorial,
Alicia gazed across the glassy waters of the Potomac’s tidal basin. Lush cherry
trees framed its banks and families cruised about in paddle boats, laughing and
splashing one another. She watched the carefree way the tourists wandered along the
footpath and the easy enjoyment of the children running to and fro. Bathed in glorious
sunshine, the scene was almost picture perfect.

A couple of teenagers walked by hand in
hand, stealing the occasional kiss. Alicia’s eyes followed them, envious at the
couple’s freedom to do as they pleased.

‘And they would think
I
lived
the privileged life,’ she sighed.

Alicia glanced at her watch for the
umpteenth time, impatient for Kalila to arrive. She had so much she needed to confide in
her friend. The whole buddyguard issue, her father’s lack of understanding and her
feelings for Connor crushed by betrayal. Even thinking about the boy brought tears to
her eyes.

Blinking them away, Alicia looked up into
the cloudless
blue sky. It was then that she noticed a dark column of
smoke rising from central Washington.

Alicia gasped, shocked by what appeared to
be a massive fire in the heart of the capital.

Then she spotted a second swirl of smoke to
the east. Although the sun shone warm and bright, a cold chill ran down her spine at the
sight.

Other people began to notice them too and a
murmur of unease spread among the groups of tourists dotted around the Memorial. There
was a distant rumble like thunder and a third plume of smoke smeared the sky.

‘Oh my gawd, what was that?’
exclaimed a woman in a white baseball cap.

‘Maybe it’s a gas
explosion,’ suggested the man next to her.

An elderly gentleman with a cane and Vietnam
Vets badge squinted into the distance. ‘Sounded more like a bomb to me.’

‘Ladies and gentlemen, the
Memorial’s being closed,’ announced a park ranger, ushering people from the
massive temple-like structure. ‘Please vacate the area immediately.’

Bewildered tourists began to file out and
down the steps.

‘The Jefferson Memorial is
never
closed,’ muttered the elderly gentleman. ‘This has to be
serious.’

He glanced down at Alicia. ‘If I were
you, young lady, I’d go straight home.’

Beckoning to his wife, he hurried down the
steps as fast as his limp would allow.

Alicia looked north in the direction of her
home. The
White House suddenly seemed very far away. Alone upon the
steps, the President’s daughter felt dangerously exposed. And truly scared. Alicia
now realized how stupid she’d been to run off. Reaching into her bag, she pulled
out her panic alarm.

President Mendez’s feet barely touched
the ground as he was rushed from the Oval Office by his Secret Service detail. They
charged through the door to the Rose Garden and across the south lawn to the awaiting
helicopter. Marine One’s blades thudded loudly and the grass was whipped into a
frenzy by the whirling wind. Bundled up the steps, President Mendez just caught a
glimpse of his White House staff fleeing the residence. Karen Wright, her dark blonde
hair streaming out behind her, was close on his heels. A moment later, she joined him in
the helicopter’s main cabin. The Director of National Intelligence was swiftly
followed by George Taylor and Dirk Moran. The doors shut behind them and Marine One
lifted off.

‘Tell me what’s going on! Is
this for real?’ demanded President Mendez as he brushed himself down and
straightened his tie.

‘The White House has been
compromised,’ Dirk explained. ‘We’ve just received notice of another
bomb threat.’

‘A bomb in the
White
House
!’ exclaimed the President. ‘How’s that possible?’

‘We’ve no idea at this time. But,
given the three car bombings, we must assume this is a viable threat.’

‘Three?’

‘Yes, Mr President,’ said Karen
Wright, holding on to her seat as Marine One banked left to head towards Andrews Air
Force Base where it would connect with Air Force One, the President’s official
plane and mobile base in a national emergency. ‘The FBI Headquarters were hit
barely a minute ago. This is a
confirmed
terrorist attack on our
capital.’

‘Has any group claimed
responsibility?’

‘Not yet. It’s far too
early,’ she replied. ‘But the National Security Directive is being
implemented and all key government personnel are being secured.’

‘I gave the order to evacuate the
White House,’ informed George, panting heavily from his dash to the
helicopter.

The President looked anxiously through the
window at the White House disappearing into the distance. ‘Where’s my
daughter in all this?’

‘Do not concern yourself, sir,’
replied Dirk, who after five fretful minutes had just got word that Nomad’s
locator beacon had been triggered. ‘Secret Service are en route to escort her to a
safe house.’

‘That should keep them occupied for a
while,’ Malik said, ending his call to the receptionist at the White House and
flinging the prepaid phone out of the car window. He watched it sail over the bridge
railing and disappear into the Potomac River.

Bahir checked his tablet PC where large
orange dots now blossomed on the screen. ‘FBI, Secret Service and US Capitol bombs
have all been triggered successfully,’ he announced to Malik’s obvious
delight. ‘Early news reports indicate chaos on the streets.’

‘Wonderful,’ said Malik, almost
sighing with pleasure. ‘Then it’s time to collect our prize.’

A radio crackled into life.

‘
Gamekeeper to Hide.
Over
.’

Bahir snatched up the receiver. ‘Send
message:
Eagle Chick is without sparrows
. I repeat,
Eagle Chick is
without
sparrows.
’

Bahir looked over his shoulder at Malik in
triumph. ‘Fortune favours us.’

Then his tablet PC sounded an alarm and he
cursed out loud.

‘What’s the problem?’
Malik demanded.

Bahir tapped away on the electronic
keyboard. ‘My scanner’s picked up a distress signal. From Eagle
Chick.’

‘Then block it!’

Bahir feverishly entered more code but shook
his head in frustration. ‘I can’t. It’s not coming from her
phone.’

Malik’s expression grew thunderous.
‘Tell Kedar to move in NOW!’

His lungs burning, his heart pounding, Connor
raced full pelt round the banks of the tidal basin. The Jefferson Memorial was in plain
sight. Tourists were spilling out of the domed structure and down the white marble
steps. His eyes scanned among them for any sign of Alicia. He couldn’t spot her.
But according to the Tracker, she was still there.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at the secure
message from Charley.

White House evacuation. Bomb scare.

Do NOT return. Head to Safe House

Blue 1.

A blue dot – numbered 686 – now pulsed on the
digital map several blocks east of the Jefferson Memorial on E Street SW.

Connor was stunned by the rapid sequence of
events. Like a house of cards, Washington DC seemed to be collapsing around him.
He’d heard a third explosion rock
the capital only a few blocks
away as he’d sprinted across the National Mall. People were bunched together,
gazing in stupefied awe at the billowing columns of smoke. Some were fleeing in panic;
others were too shocked to know what to do.

Connor just kept running.

With three key targets hit, he knew the odds
of a tourist site being next were dangerously high.

Crossing the Outlet Bridge, Connor entered
the final stretch of path to the Memorial when he noticed a 4×4 vehicle with blacked-out
windows speeding along the East Basin Drive. Weaving in between the traffic, it too was
headed directly for the Jefferson Memorial.

Connor put on a last burst of speed, his
backpack riding high on his shoulders. He fought against the flow of tourists heading
the opposite way. The 4×4 disappeared from his line of sight. But Connor was convinced
the driver’s objective was the same as his – the President’s daughter.

He reached the base of the Memorial.

‘ALICIA?’ he shouted, looking
left and right between the countless faces of the passing people.

A head turned in his direction. Connor
immediately recognized the dark flowing curls and oversized sunglasses.

‘Alicia!’ he cried in relief as
he bounded up the steps two at a time.

‘What are
you
doing
here?’ she demanded, both baffled and upset by his unexpected appearance.

‘My job,’ he replied, grabbing her
hand and pulling her down the steps.

But Alicia resisted. She tugged her hand
free from his grasp. ‘Connor, you’re
not
my bodyguard.’

‘But I am your friend and we have to
leave now!’ he insisted.

‘I’ve already alerted Secret
Service,’ she explained, taking off her sunglasses and giving him a defiant stare.
‘I don’t need your help.’

‘They’ll be too late.’
Connor’s gaze swept the Memorial for approaching threats, his alert level firmly
at Code Orange. There were fewer tourists now and only a couple of park rangers. The
speeding car he’d seen must have pulled up behind the building.

‘What do you mean?’ asked
Alicia, hearing the tension in his voice.

‘Your phone, it’s bugged.
Someone is intercepting your calls and tracking you
now
. And it’s not
Secret Service.’

A flicker of shock passed across
Alicia’s face, then she snorted in disbelief. ‘Listen, if this is some trick
to prove yourself –’

‘Far from it,’ Connor cut in. He
pointed to the skyline. ‘See for yourself. Washington is under attack. I’m
sorry I couldn’t tell you I was your buddyguard before. That wasn’t my
choice. But my friendship is
real
. You have to trust me.’

He offered his hand again.

Alicia looked him in the eyes, trying to
judge his sincerity. Under his gaze, her resistance soon crumbled. ‘I do, I
do,’ she replied, taking his hand.