Chapter 7 - Phase Four
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The relay station erupted into gunfire.
I dropped behind a concrete equipment cabinet as rounds shattered the wall above me.
Marcus fired from the opposite side of the room.
Pendelton’s security team moved with disciplined precision, forcing Cole’s men away from the President.
Buster disappeared into the darkness.
That terrified me.
“Buster!”
Marcus whistled once.
A bark answered from somewhere near the loading bay.
Alive.
I crawled toward the President.
His chair had been knocked over.
He was still restrained.
“Mr. President.”
He looked at my uniform.
Then at my face.
“Captain Jenkins?”
For half a second, I wondered how he knew me.
Then I remembered the tribunal.
My arrest had already become internal news.
“Sir, I’m getting you out.”
“I was told you were a traitor.”
“Busy week.”
Despite everything, he gave a short laugh.
I cut the restraints around his wrists.
Across the room, Cole shouted.
“Do you understand what you’re protecting?”
Pendelton answered with two shots that forced him behind cover.
The President stood unsteadily.
“Where is my security detail?”
“Some are alive.”
“Vice President Cole?”
“Behind this.”
His expression hardened.
That was enough.
I handed him a sidearm from a fallen attacker.
He checked the chamber automatically.
Not his first weapon.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Then the entire facility shook.
A deep mechanical vibration traveled through the floor.
Emergency lights flashed.
Marcus shouted from across the room.
“Sarah!”
I looked toward him.
He pointed at a communications panel.
Rows of red indicators had illuminated.
Phase Four.
Pendelton reached the console.
“What did Vance activate?”
An operator joined him.
His face changed as he read the screen.
“Sir…”
“What?”
“Emergency defense alert.”
The President stepped closer.
“Explain.”
The operator swallowed.
“Someone transmitted launch-warning data into regional command networks.”
Pendelton went pale.
“False attack?”
“Yes.”
“How convincing?”
The operator stared at the screen.
“Very.”
My stomach dropped.
Cole had not simply tried to seize command.
He was manufacturing a national emergency.
The perfect justification for Directive Twelve.
The President looked toward Cole.
“You were going to start a war.”
Cole emerged from behind cover with blood running down one side of his face.
“No.”
He lowered his weapon.
His remaining guards did the same.
For a moment, I thought he was surrendering.
Then he smiled.
“I was going to prevent one.”
Pendelton stared at him.
“By fabricating an attack?”
Cole looked toward the President.
“You know what is coming.”
“I know you kidnapped me.”
“You knew defense systems had been penetrated.”
Cole’s voice grew louder.
“You knew foreign governments were exploiting our contractors.”
“And your solution was treason?”
“My solution was control.”
There it was.
The word men like Cole always used eventually.
Control.
He believed chaos justified anything.
Snow Lantern.
Dana Park.
Marcus.
The tribunal.
The President.
All acceptable losses.
Cole continued.
“Democracies hesitate.”
The President walked toward him.
“Sometimes.”
Cole nodded.
“Exactly.”
The President stopped inches away.
“That hesitation is called consent.”
Cole’s smile disappeared.
The building alarms intensified.
The operator shouted.
“Sir, military command stations are receiving the false warning.”
“How long until they verify?”
“Minutes.”
Pendelton looked at me.
“We need Vance.”
“Mount Weather.”
“He controls the source authentication.”
Marcus approached carrying Buster’s recorder.
“Not necessarily.”
He connected the damaged device to the console.
The operator frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“Vance transmitted through the same architecture during Snow Lantern.”
Marcus looked at me.
“If Buster recorded the handshake signal, we may have his authentication fingerprint.”
The operator understood.
“We could prove the warning originated from a compromised source.”
“How long?”
“Not fast enough from here.”
Pendelton looked toward the President.
“Mount Weather has direct access.”
The President nodded.
“Then that’s where we go.”
Cole laughed.
“You think Thomas is waiting for you?”
Nobody answered.
Cole looked directly at me.
“Captain, ask yourself why Vance wanted you alive long enough to reach Washington.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“He could have killed you in the mountains.”
My burned hand tightened.
Cole continued.
“But he didn’t.”
Pendelton stepped closer.
“Raymond.”
Cole ignored him.
“He needed someone to carry the rescue code.”
My stomach turned cold.
“That makes no sense.”
“Doesn’t it?”
His eyes dropped toward my glove.
“0-7-K-9-E-X-V.”
Marcus stepped forward.
Cole smiled.
“Who taught you that code?”
I thought back.
Colonel Mercer.
Two years earlier.
A classified survival course.
Mercer had shown a handful of us the emergency black-book system.
Cole saw recognition in my face.
“Yes.”
My pulse quickened.
“The code was bait.”
“Partly.”
Pendelton looked furious.
“For what?”
“To trigger the internal investigation.”
I understood.
Vance had known Pendelton would recognize it.
The tribunal lockdown.
The archive seizure.
Command chaos.
All of it.
“You wanted the Pentagon looking inward.”
Cole nodded.
“While Directive Twelve moved outward.”
I felt sick.
We had been reacting exactly as they expected.
Then Cole’s smile returned.
“But Thomas made one mistake.”
“What?”
“He believed Corporal Thorne was dead.”
Marcus lifted the recorder.
“And Buster.”
Cole’s eyes flicked toward the dog.
For the first time, uncertainty appeared.
The President turned toward us.
“Then the dog may be the one thing they never planned for.”
Buster barked once.
The operator pulled up a map.
Mount Weather was forty-six miles away.
Military command centers were already responding to the false attack.
We did not have enough time.
The President pointed toward Cole.
“Take him into custody.”
Then he looked at me.
“Captain Jenkins.”
“Sir.”
“You still have that recording?”
“Yes.”
“Then bring the dog.”
I glanced at Buster.
May you like
The President’s expression hardened.
“We’re going to Mount Weather.”
