Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(67)
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.