Transfer of Power

RAPP POINTED TO the second door, saying, “Behind that is a reinforced steel door that leads into a tunnel. The tunnel that was used to evacuate the president when the attack started. It runs from here, down a flight of stairs, under the Rose Garden, and up into the West Wing.”

Rielly was leaning against one of the wheeled storage containers, and Rapp and Adams were standing. Rielly listened intently to Rapp’s plan.

Talk of hidden tunnels and the evacuation of the president had her curiosity piqued.

“At this end, the tunnel goes down a flight of stairs”-Rapp gestured with his hand-“a quick turn to the left, and then down another short flight, where there’s another door.

That door,” said Rapp, talking very fast now, “leads to the room just outside the president’s bunker. The room that you could see from your spot in the ventilation duct.” Looking up, Rielly asked, “So where does that get us?”

“We need to reestablish communication with the president.

Aziz is using some type of a jammer to block communication with the bunker.”

“How do you know that?” Out of habit, the reporter was ticking down her notepad of questions.

“When the raid started, we were in communication with the president via Secret Service radio and cell phone for a short period. That is how we knew he was safe in the bunker. When Milt and I came in through the air intake, our reception got worse the closer we got to the White House. Up on the sec and floor the reception is a little better. We’re pretty sure that the jamming unit is located as close to the bunker as possible for maximum effect.”

Rielly took in his words and asked, “So why do we have to risk this just to talk to the president?”

This is where it gets tricky, Rapp told himself. He didn’t want to lie to her, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t tell her what he had figured out-that the reason they were doing this was that the vice president wouldn’t order the takedown.

“Anna, I can’t get into that with you right now, maybe later.

Just trust me that there’s a good reason why we need to reestablish contact with the president.”

Rielly eyed him suspiciously, wondering what he was hiding.

“This is one of those things we’ll talk about over dinner when you tell me your life story.”

Rapp laughed.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll put it at the top of the list.”

Nice laugh, Rielly thought. He used it as defense mechanism.

Every time he wasn’t comfortable with a question or a proposition, he laughed and moved on. Rielly gave him a knowing look as if she could see past the smoke screen.

“So I’m going to crawl back down there and wait for that guy to go to the bathroom. And then I’m going to tug on the rope twice”-Rielly held up two fingers to make sure-“twice, and then you’re gonna run down there and do whatever it is that you do for whatever agency it is that you work for, but can’t say you work for.”

Rapp’s quiet laugh and smile popped up right on schedule.

“That’s about it.”

“What if this guy doesn’t need to go to the bathroom?”

“Don’t worry, he will. My guess is he’s been up for almost three days straight, and he’s probably had twenty cups of coffee.”

Rapp looked over at the door and then back.

“Any questions before we get started?”

“What if I give the signal and two seconds later he turns around and starts coming back?”

Rapp nodded and pointed to her.

“Now, that’s a good question. If that happens, tug on the rope four times, nice and hard.” Rapp watched her nod and then again asked, “Any more questions?”

“Yeah,” said Rielly.

“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

“Hold it.” Rapp reached into his pocket and pulled out a Velcro patch and one of the mini surveillance units.

“I want you to install this while you’re down there. Lay it flat like this.”

Rapp set the small device in the palm of his hand and held it horizontally.

“This little wick at the end contains a fiber-optic camera. Make sure it has an unobstructed view of the bunker door.”

Rielly took the device and nodded.

“I’m ready when you guys are.”

“Milt?” Rapp looked at his partner.

“I’m good to go.”

“Good.” Rapp brought his hands together and said, “Let’s do it.” Rubbing them, he shrugged his head toward the second door and said, “Let’s get that thing open, and then we’ll lower Anna down.”

Adams walked over to the gray door and extracted his S-key. He opened the outer door, and there stood a sturdy steel door with rivets securing the hinges and a handle on the right hand side. Adams brought his face to within inches of the control pad and then stopped. Stepping to the side, he looked at Rapp and said, “You’d better give this a try. You’re gonna be on your own when you open the second door.”

Rapp agreed and stepped up to the control pad. He entered the nine numbers from memory and pressed “enter.” Immediately there was the hiss of air releasing and then a metallic click. Rapp stepped back and brought his submachine gun up.

Adams looked at him and pointed to the handle.

“Just lean on that thing, and she’s all yours.”

Rapp pushed Adams completely out of the way and pressed down on the handle. He didn’t expect any trouble, but now was not the time to be lax. Rapp pushed the door in.

Before him was a small landing and a set of stairs The floor and lower half of the walls were covered with a brown carpet.

Rapp stood hugging the doorframe, with his silhouette minimized.

The thick black barrel of his MP-10 searched every inch of the dimly lit staircase before him.

He turned to Adams and Rielly.

“Everything checks out.

Let’s get Anna on the move and hope this guy has a little bladder.”

A minute later Rielly was wiggling her way back into the vent and Rapp was playing out the rope When she reached the vertical shaft, Rapp carefully eased her down it. From there Rielly inched her way through the narrow confines until she came upon her spot. Gingerly, she inched forward the last several inches and peered through the slats. The high-pitched whine of the drills filled the air. Clutching the surveillance unit Rapp had given her, she looked out intently at the large shiny door of the president’s bunker. No one was in sight. The pudgy man that she had seen the time before was not visible. Rielly watched the three bulky drills working to breach the door. She wondered briefly if she should tug on the string and give the signal. After a moment she thought better of it. She could see only part of the room, and for all she knew, someone was in there, or he was gone and could be on his way back.

Taking the arm of her bulky sweatshirt, Rielly reached in front of herself and cleared out a spot for the Velcro patch. She secured the surveillance unit to the spot and made sure the fiber-optic camera had an unobstructed view between the bottom of the opening and the first slat. With that done, she stretched out and tried to get comfortable.