The Chosen One Ch. 04

Zack set the wand down and blew softly across the small circuit board he was working on. He looked up at Adam with a large grin. "You said sterile, and trust me, that shit is as sterile as it gets. I went through every garage sale in the area. All the devices are untraceable and me and Kevin can make what we need out of it."

"Good thinking, Zack. Um -- we're not thinking about taking out the target with toy handguns are we?" Adam asked as he picked up the light plastic gun.

Zack laughed and reached over for a bottle of water that sat nearby. "God, I hope not. Randy and Greg wanted as many as we could find; they're in the projector room cooking up something."

**********

Chief Randy Cross slid the magazine into the AR-15 assault rifle that was placed in a rack system. There were two such types of armory racks, each one containing eight weapons. Once he was satisfied with the angle the magazine was pointed at, he connected the small electrical wire to the one next to it.

Greg Swanson walked backwards, trailing another electrical wire with him as he went. Once he made it to a nearby table, he connected it to a car battery and waited for Randy to clear the area.

"You know, if this works, we're going to have to put a patent on this idea," Randy said as he put his goggles on and looked at the mounted assault rifles.

Greg lowered his own goggles as he picked up the detonation trigger. "Fuck the patent, Shipmate. If this works as planned, we need to look into moving to another country."

"Okay, Greg, moment of truth. Three -- two -- one..."

Suddenly the door opened and Adam stepped in. "What the hell are you two trying to figure out?"

The two Chiefs turned and smiled at their team leader as he shut the door and moved toward them. Adam looked over at the weapon racks and gave a puzzled look to the two senior SEALs. "I thought I made myself clear, we can't hurt the target. It looks like you're getting ready to blow him up."

Greg shot him a defiant stare, and then smiled. "If this works, he won't be hurt; but I bet he'll be laughing his ass off. This is an exact replica of the standby arsenal that Chris said was in between the two infrared security gates."

Adam still had a quizzical look as he went from the AR-15s and back to the men. "So you're going to use the Secret Service's own weapons against them?"

"Something like that. Why don't you take one for the team and stand in the middle of the two racks. If you get hurt, then I know we have to come up with another system of delivery," Randy said.

Adam picked up an extra set of goggles that lay on the table. He moved cautiously between the two racks, pulling the plastic safety device over his eyes and turning toward the grinning Chiefs. "Another system of delivery for what?"

Greg laughed. "For these babies; fire in the hole," he said loudly, then pushed the button.

It took a half a second for the electricity to find its way to the charges placed in the magazine tips. The loud concussion caused everyone's ears to ring as the objects shot out at Adam's hips and chest. It was human reaction to cringe and bring up his arms in a protective posture as his body was repeatedly hit.

The whole experiment took two seconds and Adam watched the two SEALs slap each other's shoulders in congratulations. Even though Adam was shocked from the assault, he checked his body for any injuries. When he was finished, he bent down and retrieved the rubber tipped toy dart and laughed.

Moving to the two laughing men, he pulled off his goggles and tossed them on the table, then licked the dart end and stuck it on Swanson's forehead. "Greg, you still have a warped sense of humor." Adam continued to laugh with them as he exited the room.

Oval Office, the White House, Washington, D.C.

President Henry Walker leaned back in the plush leather chair, stretching his legs beneath the antique Resolute desk. He kept his eyes on his Chief-of-Staff, John Arnold, as he went over various fund raisers he should consider attending. Sitting next to him, was the senior Secret Service agent in charge of his safety at all times.

Kenneth Kleyn followed along as the briefing preceded, flashes of security issues flooding his mind. The veteran agent hated election years due to the massive amount of overtime and work force required to keep the most powerful man in the world safe from harm.

"...we could really stand to boost our ratings in Michigan, Mr. President. We took a beating there during the mid-terms and those two stops could do that for us," John said as he paused and looked up at his longtime friend.

Walker remained silent as he let the advice hang in the air. Finally, he leaned forward and looked down at the small desk calendar he had asked his secretary for, the small red X marks glaring at him. Since leaving the secret meeting in the woods, he had counted each day that his new SEAL team had failed to achieve their objective.

Kleyn's voice shattered his thoughts of the team's possible failure. "If we are going to Michigan, Mr. President, I'll need to know within the week so we can send the advance team to the hotels."

"What, oh sorry, mind drifted there for a moment. I don't know, John; the last time we went there the head of the party wouldn't stop kissing my ass." Walker reached out for his dark blue coffee cup and leaned back in his chair again.

John gave a slight chuckle as he closed his large binder. "You're the President of the United States. Everyone below you is an ass kisser."

"You think so? Wait a minute, you're below me," Walker shot back.

"Okay, almost everyone." John Arnold got up and the head of the Secret Service followed suit. "Toss it around, Mr. President, and we'll look at it again in a few days."

The two men moved toward the thick curved door that lead to the outer office. Ken grabbed the handle and opened it for his superior. The Chief-of-Staff exited and headed for the President's personal secretary, but Henry Walker's most trusted agent remained in the Oval Office.

He turned slightly and looked at the President as he rose from his desk and peered out the window. "Mr. President, I know you have a full day today, but I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time alone."

Walker turned and moved away from the window. He held out his hand indicating they should take a seat on the two opposing couches placed in the middle of the rich brown-carpeted room. "Have a seat, Ken. The Joint Chiefs can wait a few more minutes."

The two men sat down and Walker crossed his legs and leaned back. Ken Kleyn had wanted to address an issue with the President ever since he had returned from Virginia. One issue was about the light security during his trip; the other was the President's actions after returning. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"Christ, Ken, you know better than to ask me that. What's on your mind?"

Ken looked the President in the eyes hard. "You're safety, Sir."

Walker laughed. "You don't need permission to speak freely about my safety, and you know how I hate people beating around the bush."

"Yes, Sir. I get it that you wanted to escape for a few hours from the madness a few weeks ago. God knows I have the same thoughts every day. The problem I can't get my head around is your actions since returning."

Walker had a puzzled look on his face as he stared back at the muscular man across from him. "I don't understand; my actions?"

"Mr. President, I've been with the Secret Service for three different administrations. During that time, I have seen Presidents and Vice Presidents do some strange things, but ever since you got back from Virginia, you seem -- forgive me, Sir -- hell bent on spending as much time outside the White House as you can."

Walker waived his hand in the air, playing the accusation off with an excuse. "It's an election year, Ken; you know how this shit works."

"Yes, Sir, I do. I also know that no President has ever kept a calendar on his desk. He has a secretary who does that for him. For the last three years, that's been the norm for you. Now, you have one and for some unknown reason, you're marking off the days like you're waiting for something."

Walker laughed again as he tried to make is sound as real as he could. "Jesus, Ken, is that what has you nervous? I'm just trying to feel like a normal human being for a change." Walker stood up knowing that would cause the conversation to end. He didn't want to tip off the head of the Secret Service as to what was really happening.

"I tell you what, Ken. I'll get rid of it so you can sleep at night," Walker said as he moved toward his desk.

"That won't be necessary, Sir. Thank you for giving me a few minutes of your time, Mr. President," Ken responded as he moved to the door.

He grabbed the handle once again, but paused for moment. "One more thing, Mr. President, we have changed the route to the IRS photo shoot to the tunnel. The NRA is planning a huge rally against the crime bill at the front gate that day."

Walker spun around quickly as he glared at the agent. "No! I don't care if there's a nuclear bomb at the gate; I go outside."

Ken shook his head in disbelief as he pulled the door open. "Yes, Sir, no tunnel. I'll have capital police keep the protesters in the park.

Thanks to all for reading my chapter. Because I love my fan base so much, I have a special treat for everyone in the next chapter. As you have noticed, I am bringing up pieces of reference to the past submissions about Kevin and the gang. I think you all will be pleasantly surprised. Till next time.