Chapter 74 -- RVEIEFTOJTFGZAAU
General Anthony looked out the window at the Pacific shore a quarter of a mile
away. From his room on the third floor he could see a large section of the
curved end of the peninsula, as he watched one of the Secret Service boats
passed by. He was surprised there were only two boats, considering the
circumstances. He wondered if security level would be escalated in the
absence of an imminent threat.
He hoped not, partly because he was counting on the PLA force to easily
overcome the security, and because he was certain there would be casualties.
The Secret Service might not be guiltless if they chose to continue their
employment under a aspiring dictator, but nevertheless he hoped for minimal
casualties.
His phone rang. It was Dean Jordan.
"Anthony."
"Mark, the president has arrived. We'll be meeting in a hour. Everyone else
is here and we're in the main dining room."
"I'll be down shortly."
The plan seemed to be for the president to address the nation at seven P.M. Central.
Prime time television. All the major news channels were
preempting some or most of their regular entertainment for coverage of the
crisis, so most of the television-viewing population would see it. It was
already decided to announce that martial law was in effect, and beyond that
there seemed to be no plans.
What were they going to do, he wondered. They were no better off than before,
still chasing ghosts and falling further behind. He didn't know when the
strike would come, but he suspected it would be soon. Perhaps once the
president had arrived, since they wanted to be in control before security
could be reinforced. The presence of an army brigade covering the approach to
the area would lull them. He hoped so.
He saw the presidential helicopter pass over, headed back to Miramar. It
wouldn't be allowed to land once the PLA had taken over, so there was no way
out for the president. He felt remarkably calm now, even though the battle
was technically not underway, the point of no return had been passed. There
would be no retreat. He picked up his briefcase and went downstairs.
The president was the only one not present in the dining room. Remote
broadcast equipment had been set up, several technicians were making the final
adjustments. Anthony wondered if they would be leaving after the speech - he
preferred to have as few people as possible trapped here.
"The president will be with us shortly," Whittaker said. "We'll go over the
speech then, and do a few test runs."
Kelly was probably as good at reading a speech from a teleprompter as anyone,
certainly better than the previous occupant of his position, but they could not help
being nervous. He suspected that they were lost and stalling for time.
When the president came in they began rehearsing the speech, and with a couple
of hours until seven they were satisfied. Whittaker called for an hour break,
giving Anthony an opportunity to go up to his room and check his dark phone.
There was a message from Ishmael. One word. Ready Probably they would
strike after the speech had been broadcast.
Harry Morant sat in a deck chair on the Tormance, watching the activity around
Carver's Point. The eighty foot motor yacht lay a half mile off the point,
two smaller craft trailing it. Beside him Peter Handcock, also observing.
The sky was beginning to darken. Earlier they had seen the large helicopter
lift off from the point, indicating that the president was on the ground.
They got up and went into the small aft cabin.
A couple of large television screens displayed two of the major news channels,
one showing one of the common scenes of destruction now being shown around the
clock, the other showed the outside of the presidential residence on Carver's
Point. Not much of it was visible - already military vehicles had largely
blocked the ground-level view, the wall and the large mansion behind it were
some distance from the cameras.
Morant and Handcock sat at a table with two smaller screens, each showing only
ocean. That was the view of the cameras on the two unmanned craft following
the Tormance. Below each screen were controls for steering one of the
unmanned boats. As the time approached 1900 the other television screen also
changed to a view of the presidential residence at Carver's Point, and the
announcers came on the call the action. At a few minutes after the hour the
president emerged and began his speech.
They didn't bother listening. They knew what was happening and were only
interested in when it ended. Their attention was on the operation
at hand.
The speech was brief and the scene shifted to the usual split screen with a
news person and a guest. It was time. They began steering the vessels behind
the Tormance toward the shore, heading for points on either side of the point.
When the Secret Service boats intercepted them they would be close to a
quarter of a mile apart.
Behind the Tormance a small fleet of inflatable boats had moved into position. The two
small boats had reached the security perimeter and stopped. As the Secret
Service boats moved to intercept them the inflatable boats accelerated through
the gap towards the beach.
It took the Secret Service boats a while to turn their attention to the rafts,
and by then it was too late. Pursuing them they arrived as the rafts were
beaching and men leaped out to spray them with their M4 carbines. There were
only two men on each boat and they went down immediately, and most of the
invading force moved on toward the mansion, only a handful stopping to check on
their fallen foes.
In the dying daylight a brief battle ended with the defenders down and the
attackers entering the house. They systematically cleared the place, rounding
up extraneous staff and securing them with disposable nylon handcuffs, leaving
them where they found them for the time being.
In the dining room they found their quarry in its entirety. They had barely
had time to react to the sound of gunfire outside the room before the doors
were kicked open by men dressed in black, their bulk suggesting
they were wearing body armor. The visors on the helmets remained closed as
they stood with submachine guns leveled.
No one moved or spoke, terror evident on every face. All but one. General
Mark Anthony stood calmly looking at the men pointing guns at him from a few
feet away, but he did not look at the others in the room. He waited with the
others.
Through the open doors three more men walked in. All were dressed in black
and wore sunglasses. Unlike the others they appeared to be unarmed, and did
not appear to be wearing body armor. Two of them remained slightly behind and
to either side of the one who appeared to be the leader. The tableau remained
frozen for several minutes. Finally the leader spoke.
"You may call me Ishmael, if you address me at all. For the moment, however,
I will be the only one speaking. Is that understood?"
He looked around the table.
"Silence give consent, as they say," he said. "First, all of you sit down. I
represent the People's Liberation Army, and I am here to accept your agreement
to negotiate a peace treaty. The terms are predetermined - your only options are
acceptance or the consequences of failing to do so. When you agree to them and
offer surety for their execution, we will cease hostilities. Who speaks for
you? The president?
The group sat silently, all looking at the president.
Finally the president spoke.
"Yes. I am John Kelly, President of the United States."
"Very well, then. Let us begin."