The 13: Fall (39 page)

“Okay, people. Let’s hear it.”

A first lieutenant approached and handed him a stack of printouts. “This is everything we have so far, sir.”

Jennings took the copies and passed them around. The report was everything they already knew. The entire country was being invaded. They all took a seat around the giant conference table and looked to President Walker.

“Sir?” Jennings said, trying to prompt a response.

Walker just stared back, stone-faced.

“Mr. President?” Bob Sykes said, raising his voice, obviously impatient with the president’s lack of decisiveness.

“Yes, yes,” Walker said, rubbing his temples. “Okay. Obviously, no one saw this coming. So how do we fix it?”

Jennings was instantly mad.
Fix it?
“Mr. President, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Chinese have declared war on us, sir! You don’t just
fix
this!”

“I wasn’t suggesting we could snap our fingers and make it go away, Director Jennings,” President Walker said.

“Sir,” Sykes said, “our options are limited. Unless we are willing to literally level half of our country, the only thing we can do is engage them on the ground.”

“Then let’s get to it!” Walker said.

Sykes looked at Jennings with a contemptuous glance. No one had wanted to say it, but Jennings wasn’t about to play politics or exchange platitudes. Not when this was happening. He cleared his throat and started to speak. But Sykes beat him to it.

“Mr. President, for the last twelve years, your predecessors have made it their life’s work to defund and dismantle this country’s defenses. President Grant has tried time and time again, since being in office, to reverse that. And I’m not sure what party you actually affiliate yourself with, sir, but you have done nothing to help him along the way. You people up on the Hill have acted like we’re invincible. You’ve been naive and ignorant. Everyone here knows that, as a senator, you sponsored or cosponsored at least four bills that reduced the size of our military. And now it’s come back to bite you. You’re no more fit to run this country than my niece! And if I and everyone else in this room had our way, you’d be charged with treason for what’s happening right now!”

“You watch your mouth, Mr. Secretary!” Walker shouted and jabbed a finger at him. “I’m still the president!”

“You’re an empty suit with a title!” Sykes yelled back. “You’re no president, sir.”

Walker’s face began to redden, and his hands began to shake. He sat back down in his chair and buried his head in his hands. The room was silent for almost a full minute. Finally Jennings spoke up.

“Look, Gray, we all know you didn’t ask for this. For goodness’ sake, man! None of us did. But, as you said, you
are
the president now.”

Walker lifted his head and looked around. “Everyone, please leave the room. I need to speak with Secretary Sykes and Director Jennings.”

Without a word, the room cleared, leaving only the three men. When they had all gone, Walker continued.

“Kevin, Bob, you may not believe it, but I love this country. And yes, I may have been wrong on some policies, but I am willing to admit it. And I’m also willing to admit that I’m in over my head here.”

Jennings looked at Sykes.

“However,” Walker continued, “I will not stand for the two of you disrespecting this office. I am the commander in chief, and it is my responsibility to see that we do everything we can to stop these Chinese from taking over our country. So here’s what’s going to happen: I’m putting the two of you in charge. Jennings, you will directly oversee our entire operations. You will work with Bob and the Joint Chiefs. Bob, do you have a problem with that?”

Sykes shook his head. “Not at all, sir. I think that is a great idea. We have the experience and the knowledge to get this done. Jennings is more than competent.”

“Then that’ll be all. Please, if you would, leave me for a moment.”

The two men nodded and turned to leave the room. As they made for the door, Walker called back, “Jennings. A moment please?”

Jennings closed the door behind Sykes and waited.

“You know,” Walker said, “I heard once that Grant actually wanted you to be his running mate. I would’ve thought he’d asked you.”

“He did,” Jennings said. “I said no.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Jennings said, “I don’t do politics. Politics is what got us into this mess in the first place.”

He closed the door behind him as he left.

   CHAPTER 63   

K
eene continued to push the rented Taurus harder and harder, trying to make up time but to no avail. Ever since he’d left Houston, he’d been forced to try back roads, not knowing where he was going, relying on his own sense of direction. He only hoped he was still running parallel to the I-10.

He pulled the little car over to the side of the road to think and try to get his bearings. He’d already passed Baton Rouge and was nearing the Mississippi border. With any luck, he’d be in Biloxi in a couple hours.

He felt the rumble first. Then he heard it. Finally he saw the convoy cresting the small hill in front of him. Americans!

Getting out of his car, he stood in the middle of the road, waving his arms. The lead vehicle stopped inches from him. A head popped out of the driver’s side door and shouted, “Clear the way, sir.”

Keene reached into his back pocket to pull out his ID and was instantly met by ten M-16 assault rifles. “Easy, soldiers!” he said calmly, slowly holding his hand out. He flipped open the wallet showing his badge. “Jon Keene,” he said. “CIA. Where’s your superior?”

The young man who’d been driving the lead truck eased out of the vehicle and approached him, taking the wallet and ID. He examined it for a moment then tossed it back to Keene. Turning to his men, he said, “At ease.” The men behind him lowered their weapons. The young soldier trudged off to a few vehicles behind and came back with another younger-looking soldier.

“What’s a spook doing out in the middle of Louisiana?” the new guy asked him.

“Well, normally,” Keene began, “I’d tell you that’s classified. But I think we’re all a little past that now.”

“Yeah,” the young man agreed. “I guess so. Name’s Kitterick, Paul. First Lieutenant, 81st Training Wing, Biloxi.”

He shook the young man’s hand and said, “Jon Keene, CIA.”

“Jon Keene?” Kitterick said quizzically. “I’ve heard of a Jon Keene. Heck, we’ve all heard of a Jon Keene. Real mean dude, former SEAL. Led some kind of Black-Ops team … What was it…? Oh yeah, START-6. You that Jon Keene?”

Boz had tried to bring it up with him. Even Megan had asked a time or two. But that was a chapter of his life he hadn’t wanted to talk about. He had tried to distance himself from his military career. He was a CIA agent now. He had let go of that life long ago.

The Specialized Tactical Assassination and Recovery Team—START-6—was the unit he and five others had been a part of together. He was the commanding officer of the team and answered only to the president. The unit had gained fame throughout the entire military. Until the ambush in Pakistan. All the do-gooders on the Hill had felt it necessary to bring their morality into question through hearings. And Keene had been their main target. He’d led the mission that had gotten four of his own men and six civilians killed. It was a mistake he should’ve been able to prevent. But he hadn’t. He’d missed it. He’d disappeared for almost four months after that. Until Jennings found him. The unit had been disbanded, Jennings had told him. And he wanted Keene to come work for him and the CIA. That was a long time ago, and he’d tried to forget about it ever since.

“Hey,” Kitterick said, jarring him back, “you
that
Jon Keene?”

“I used to be,” Keene answered. “Where are you guys headed?”

Kitterick smiled a broad grin and turned to his men. “Hey, fellas! We got us a real celebrity here! This here’s Jonathan Keene.
The
Jonathan Keene! START-6!”

The men broke into a round of whooping and hollering, with a smattering of applause.

“Keesler was hit about two hours ago. Took out everything. We’re about all that’s left.” He pointed to the fifty or so military vehicles, carrying roughly four hundred men. “We’ve gotten word, through radio, that just about every base we got between the Rockies and DC was hit. There are some small pockets of guys left in each base. Everyone’s trying to mobilize and head to the rally point.”

“Where’s that?” Jonathan asked.

“101st Airborne, Fort Campbell.”

“Why there? Why not Fort Benning?”

“Benning got hit super hard. The Chao Qis. But they’re going to be okay. We just can’t get there. The whole I-10 is destroyed behind us. North up the I-59 is the only option we’ve got. Fort Campbell’s the next largest base we got west of DC. Pretty much all the major cities west of there have been attacked. We all figure Fort Campbell is high up on the list. You should come back with us, Captain,” Kitterick said.

“Can’t,” Keene said. “My orders are to get back to Washington.”

“Well, you can’t go that way,” Kitterick said. “Like I said, everything behind us is bad. It’s a miracle we made it through. No way you’re getting through in that!” He pointed to the beat-up Taurus.

Keene looked around, trying to weigh his options.

“Tell you what, Captain,” Kitterick continued. “Chain of command in this United States military is jacked up one side and down the other. Most of us don’t know who’s in charge. Half of the men I’ve talked to have lost most or all of their superior officers. When the Chao Qis hit, they targeted officer’s quarters and command centers. The communication we’re getting from Washington is minimal. You’re the highest-ranking officer in any division I’ve heard from. Anyone who’s actually got some rank is overseas. And until they get back to bail our butts out, you’re our best hope of figuring out what to do here. So how about you ditch the go-cart and jump in? You can take the I-40 once we hit Nashville and head to DC if you still want to.”

“You guys go on ahead. I’ll find my way. Thanks.”

Kitterick looked somberly at him. He grabbed him by the elbow and began to lead him away from the men. “Can I talk to you for a sec, sir?” he said.

Keene followed him out of earshot of the rest of the men.

“All right, Captain. I’m going to shoot you straight, here,” Kitterick said, barely above a whisper. “These guys are a bunch of scared kids. They all know who you are. Who am I kidding? Everyone who’s ever worn a uniform after you, knows who you are.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You can’t get to DC going that way. Your best bet is to jump in with us, head to Tennessee, and once you get there, you’ve got multiple choices as to how you get back to Washington. But right now, these men need you. They need to know that there’s hope on the horizon. You can give them that just by being in the truck with us.”

“I already told you,” Keene said, “I can’t do that. You’re their commanding officer, now. Lead them.”

Kitterick threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! Go ahead and turn your back on your country!” He turned to walk back to the truck.

Keene was on him in a flash. He spun the young lieutenant around, picked him up by the collar of his uniform, and bounced him off the stop sign that stood there managing the cross street.

“You let me tell you something,” Keene said. “I’ve sacrificed more for this country than you and any fifty of those men over there. You understand that?”

The young Lieutenant swallowed hard. “Sir, there’s no doubt in any of our minds that you haven’t sacrificed for this country. But look around you.”

Keene let go of the young officer.

“These men just watched everything they know get destroyed by twenty Chinese aircraft. They’re scared. I’m not going to lie to you. I’m scared. But the reality is exactly what I told you. You’re not getting back to DC that way.” Again, he pointed at the road behind them. “You’re a soldier. And a leader. We’re still mostly a training wing of the Air Force. Very few of us have seen any real time, including me. We need leadership, sir. Even if it’s from someone who doesn’t want to be here.”

Keene looked over the shoulder of the young lieutenant. The faces of the men before him told the whole story. They were scared. And lost. Without someone to issue basic orders and give them a game plan, these men were as useless as a bunch of sheep looking for a pasture to graze. “What’s your ETA to Fort Campbell?” he asked.