The Chosen One Ch. 06

The tunnel that made up the sewer system under the streets was relatively small. As Kevin hit the bottom, he rolled to the side to allow the next man in, but could only crouch as he watched Greg Swanson land next to him and look up for his bag of toys.

After catching the bag, he moved quickly to the side as the next man, Adam Dawson, landed on the curved bottom of the tunnel. He looked up for the next bag of surveillance equipment. Catching it quickly, he moved to the side as he heard the call from Naim that they now had only forty seconds left to get the last man, Chris Brooks, down the hole and replace the manhole cover.

Given Chris's weight, he hit the bottom hard and rolled over on his side. He winched in pain as he grabbed his ankle and rolled onto his back. Within seconds, Bill and V-man replaced the cover and the tunnel was bathed in a soft green light.

V-man moved his arm up and placed his wrist near his mouth. "Gold One secure. Ready to move." The van jerked forward just as the trap door was closed. The two SEALs sat back on the benches and drank from their water bottles. All they could do now was wait while the team made their way to the secret tunnel.

**********

Adam Dawson grabbed Chris's foot and felt around the webbing of the combat boot. As Chris tried hard not to scream out in pain, Adam put it back down on the floor of the sewer line. "It's sprained pretty good Chris. You're the only one of us who knows for sure where we're going. Are you going to be able to suck it up and finish the mission?"

Chris Brooks gritted his teeth as he got up and put pressure on the injured ankle. "Think you can keep up with me, old man?" he asked as he quivered in obvious pain.

Adam laughed and looked over to his trusted friend. "Okay, Kevin, you're up."

The SEAL point man snapped another glow stick and began leading his team to the area the entrance to the tunnels was supposed to be located. The dark sewer was bathed in the eerie green glow as one by one, the rest of the team followed on. With his astute hearing, Kevin could make out the grunts of Chris Brooks as he hobbled along after him.

Since they were crotched down in the confined space, it took a few minutes longer to reach the intersection of the two sewer lines. Kevin closed his eyes and tuned his head as he listened for any unusual noises. Suddenly, his head shot up as his eyes traveled along the top of the concrete passage. "Sounds like the buses are busy this morning," he whispered.

Chris Brooks, the other SEAL point man, hobbled next to Adam so he could speak softly enough that he voice wouldn't carry. "He can hear the buses?"

Adam turned his head and smiled at him. "I tried to tell you he's that good."

Kevin smiled at the compliment and continued to the right as he followed the shaft underneath 15th street. After eighty feet, he heard Chris snap his fingers. Three SEALs knelt down as the injured man limped forward.

He stood next to Kevin, snapped his own glow stick, and shook it until the area shone brighter. "We're here," he groaned as he tried to control the pain.

The others looked around and saw no sign of an entrance. The puzzled look on their faces filled him with pride at the accomplishment of concealing the path that would lead them to their objective. "Can't see it can you, Skipper?"

Adam looked at the smiling man. "Are you sure they didn't take it out for security reasons?"

The SEAL held the glow stick next to the wall and began moving his other hand lightly against the cement. Within moments, his fingers brushed against a symbol lightly carved into the side. He brought the stick closer and smiled as he saw the image.

Adam came forward and looked at what the Construction Electrician had found. Chris hopped to the side so his Commanding Officer could get a better look. Adam chuckled as he saw the almost invisible symbol of the Navy SEAL Trident. "Now that's what I call a sign that says enter at your own risk."

"If you think that's cool, watch this," he said as he put pressure on the symbol. The camouflaged button pushed in and the team heard something like a trap door opening. In just seconds, everyone could make out a large circle in the side of the tunnel wall.

Greg moved forward as he shifted the large bag slung over his shoulder. "And you came up with this idea?"

Chris laughed and moved back. "Pretty fucking ingenious, if I do say so myself."

Adam reached into his own bag and pulled out two large suctions cups that Chris had asked to bring with them. After insuring a tight seal, he pulled the fake cover free and laid the composite cover on the floor.

Greg looked inside the dark shaft, then back at the team. "Okay, who wants to go down the rabbit hole first?"

Kevin moved forward and quickly slid into the opening. He crawled on his hands and knees as he sensed the others following. After twenty-five feet, he found himself at the opening of an even larger passage way and moved forward until he dropped onto the floor of the rectangular tunnel.

He dropped the glow stick and turned around to help the others through the opening. Chris was the last to come through and moaned deeply as the pain increased in his ankle. "You still good to go, or do you want to wait here?"

Chris looked into Kevin's eyes; his eyes narrowed as he clinched his teeth. "Does it look like I'm dead yet?"

Kevin laughed then led the team onward. It took another ten minutes before they reached a dead end to the corridor. The werewolf/SEAL began looking around for another marker and took on a puzzled look when he found none. He turned around and saw the limping member move forward. "Okay, now what, Chris?"

"Move back a couple of steps, Kevin."

Kevin took a step back but still looked puzzled. "Why?"

Chris chuckled and then reached down. "Because you were standing on the release."

After brushing the old dust away, Chris pulled a small handle up and then moved to the side as a door swung open. The dark tunnel was now bathed in a different light as the florescent glow from the secret tunnel filtered in around the team.

The team moved quickly down the new corridor. When they reached the weapons rack, Greg placed the bag on the ground and began pulling out the modified AR-15s. He made sure to take care as not to disrupt the individual charges in the magazines.

Meanwhile, Adam and Kevin made quick work of the locks that secured the real weapons to each rack along the wall. They pulled the heavy, thick steel cable through each trigger guard and began removing them. After the racks were empty, Kevin grabbed Greg's bag and placed each weapon inside.

Chris was busy placing the small camera on the edge of the florescent light and wiring it into the existing power source. After a few adjustments to hide the wires and make it blend in as best he could, he raised his mic. "Gold Two, Gold One; operations check on the camera."

Naim Azzi sat in the back of the small van and adjusted the dials on the equipment. He glanced up at the monitor and then made a few more adjustments. Within moments, the small screen came to life and Naim was looking at the floor of the secret tunnel. From the amount of light he could tell that not all of the lights were on, which meant that the team was still undetected. "Gold One, up three degrees."

The Cryptologic Technician stared at the screen and suddenly saw two men working on the weapons rack. The image was blurred slightly and he made a few more adjustments. When the picture became clear, he sat back, and smiled. "Gold One; picture is five by five, and be advised time is now plus three five."

Adam lifted his own concealed mic and shot a glace toward Greg and Kevin as they ran the thick cable through the trigger guards of the fake AR-15s. "Gold One copies all, extract in sixty seconds, pick up in twenty."

**********

President Henry Walker checked his watch for the millionth time since his National Security team had come into the Oval Office. He tried to pay attention to the briefing, but his mind was elsewhere. He looked down at the note pad and read the time he was supposed to be at the photo shoot, then back to his watch.

"...and I don't think, Mr. President, that the Sudan government will oppose you if you decide to issue a statement," his Chief of Staff added.

John Arnold looked up from his note pad and noticed Walker staring at his watch. He knew the President wasn't paying attention. "So do you want the Joint Chiefs to issue the order for the nuclear strike or hold off for now?"

Walker snapped his head up. "Um -- what? What strike?"

John shut his folder and leaned back, then turned to the assembled security team. "That will be all gentlemen. We'll pick this back up in the morning."

The group left the office with puzzled expressions as they entered the outer office. The Presidents secretary, Ann Livingston, looked at her watch and then to the itinerary of the President's day. As the others left, she gave them all a quizzical look. "A ten minute security briefing? That's odd."

John laid his folder on the couch and moved cautiously toward the front of the Resolute desk. "Mr. President, we've been friends for a long time now right? I mean, I should be able to get away with disposing of protocol, due to our friendship and all."

"What -- oh sure, John, fire away."

John Arnold placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Where the hell is your mind today? I mean I'll get you another watch, because yours must be broken the way you keep checking it."

"Sorry, it's just I really want to get that photo shoot out of the way. The kids are from my home town and it's pretty important to me," Walker lied.

"Jesus, Henry, that's not for another four hours. You want me to clear your schedule until then so you can practice your smile?" John shook his head, went back over to the couch, and picked up his black leather folder.

He looked at the President who had now moved to the window and was searching the area. John Arnold walked toward the curved door and pulled it open. He turned to look at his longtime friend and began to worry. "With all due respect Mr. President; using the limos to go to the IRS building while a demonstration is in progress is publicity we don't need right now."

Walker spun around and narrowed his eyes at his Chief of Staff. "We go outside; end of discussion."

**********

Kevin reached down and picked up the last of the green glow sticks. Chris grabbed the ladder first since he was injured, and prepared to exit the tunnel. The four SEALs waited for the call from the van for extract or the hold call if it was needed.

Adam brought his arm up and spoke softly. "Gold One in position; advise ETA."

The voice he heard in his earpiece was that of Chief Randy Cross. "Turning the corner now. Extract in forty five seconds."

Adam looked at his team as they moved into the ready position. "Remember everyone; we only have a ninety second window. It will take us longer to get out than it did getting in so don't drag ass."

Randy monitored his position between his van and the car in front of him. The small BMW had his right turn signal on just as the light turned yellow. "This guy's turning. Get ready to give them the go call, Naim."

The car turned to the right slightly, but then suddenly hit his brakes as the driver looked to his left. Randy in turn, hit his own brakes and the small van came to a halt just behind the BMW. "Come on you dumb fuck; turn already."

The driver waited for one car to speed through the intersection and then he turned right to follow it. Randy pulled forward quickly and got his van into position. He looked in his rear view mirror as the large box van pull up behind him fast and slammed on his brakes. "Gold One, go." He paused for a few seconds to allow the manhole cover to be removed as he monitored the time. "Be advised, seventy seconds left."

Chris Brooks had his good foot on the small steel ladder as he held both arms over his head. He felt Kevin's hands on his butt to keep him stable. Within seconds, Bill and V-man yanked him upward and the hole was now clear for the equipment bags.

Adam was cursing under his breath at the lost time. He made a mental note to have a chat with Randy once they were done. The real AR-15s went up first, followed by the smaller bag of equipment. Once those were clear, Greg took one step up and thrust his arms into the air. Like Chris, he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"Twenty seconds, Gold One," Naim called out.

Kevin went up the ladder next, but just before he could put his hands up, his foot slipped off the ladder rung and he fell back down the hole. Adam grabbed him and shoved him back up. Two SEALs above him pulled hard as he disappeared in the box van.

"Ten seconds, get a move on, Gold One!"

Adam looked at the two men reaching out for him. "Get the cover on and come back for me."

Bill looked back down at his Commanding Officer. "Move your ass, Skipper!"

Greg Swanson was huddled out of the way so the others could get in without obstruction. He brought his own mic up. "Gold Two; we are minus one body. Buy us fifteen seconds."

Randy muttered a few curse words as he watched the light turn green. He checked the mirror and saw traffic was starting to back up behind them. He pulled forward slightly, then shut the engine off. When he did, he could hear the horns begin to blow behind the group.

In an instant, he pulled the hood latch and stepped out. Randy held his hand up in an apologetic gesture and then reached down and lifted the hood of the van. He reached into the engine compartment and pretended to check it over. "Gold One; hurry the fuck up," he said in a louder voice so the mic would pick it up.

After slamming the hood shut, he walked around and stood next to the driver's door. Once again, he raised his hand and climbed back in the van. Just as he cranked the engine over, he heard the report. "Gold One, secure."

Randy Cross turned right and looked in the mirror as he watched the box van continue toward 15th street. He looked over at Naim just as he undid his seatbelt to move to the back. "Well, that was a lot of fun. Let's hope that was our only glitch for this mission. Get ready to pick up the Skipper in fifteen minutes."

**********

Lieutenant Jack Patrick sat quietly on the small metal bench on the North side of the Ellipse. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of the South Lawn and the President's Park. His sipped his coffee while he enjoyed the opening moments of the sunrise.

His large head phones looked like any other person that might be listening to music and enjoying a relaxing morning, but those that passed him by on a morning jog had no idea they were connected to a radio in his coat pocket.

As he brought the coffee up he pretended to spill some and brought his jacketed arm up to wipe away the fluid. "Blue Two, Blue One. We have the ball."

On the other side of the White House, Mark Wolfhorst and Scott Ross walked around in the park just across from the North Lawn. Protesters of all shapes, sizes, color, and gender gathered nearby. Some passed out signs, while some other members of the organization talked quietly amongst themselves about strategy.

Wolfie moved over to the group of people seated at a table and retrieved two signs. On his way back to Scott, he passed two uniformed Capital Police officers and nodded politely as he continued on his way.

When he reached his teammate, he handed him a sign and brought his own up to his mouth. "Blue Two, copies ball."

0845, forty-five minutes until the photo shoot.

President Henry Walker made a conscious effort to listen to the Domestic Policy Advisor as she rambled on about statements and appearances in swing states needed for reelection. Even though he heard the words, his mind was elsewhere.

"...so I think Mr. President, if we hit Ohio and Pennsylvania a few more times in-between some of the southern states, our numbers have a better than average chance on going up."

John Arnold listened to the briefing too, but his eyes were glued to the President's. He could tell his friend was faking his expression of listening to the small woman sitting on the couch.

Walker nodded his head and wrote a few notes on his small pad in front of him. "Okay, Lorie, that sounds like it's possible. Write up a plan on how to proceed and give it to John to look over."

His public affairs assistant looked at her watch and noted the time. "Sir, if we are to make the photo shoot we should be moving in thirty minutes."

Henry Walker stood up quickly, which caused the others to stand up. "Outstanding, I've been waiting all morning to see these kids. John, is the limo here yet?"

John Arnold paused in his response. What he really wanted to say, he couldn't, not in front of the rest of the staff. He looked down at his watch and then back up to the President. "It should be arriving out front in about ten minutes -- Sir," he replied with a slightly rebellious tone.

"Very well, thank you everyone and keep up the good work," Walker replied as he moved to the window and checked outside again. "Are they out there waiting for me in the South Lawn with the visitors, or will they be in with the protestors?" he thought to himself.

**********

Adam Dawson, now dressed in jeans and a sweat shirt, looked at the large dive watch on his wrist, and then back to the small screen that sat on the make shift table inside the parked van. "Why isn't it getting brighter in there?"

Naim made a few minor adjustments but the picture remained the same. "They haven't turned all the lights on yet, and we haven't noticed any Secret Service agents walk by, Skipper. Maybe they're taking their sweet time about checking the tunnel?"

"This is starting to suck big time. Blue Team, check in on status," Adam growled into the mic.

Jack Patrick flipped the page of the newspaper he was pretending to read. "Blue One, no activity except visitors."

Scott Ross was about to check in when Wolfie grabbed his arm. Ross turned to find out what the deadly SEAL sniper was looking at. He suddenly got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the parade of black SUV's and the Presidential limo approach the front gates and enter unmolested from the chanting protestors. "You're fucking shitting me right?"

Wolfie bounced his sign up and down as he joined the chant. After a few seconds, he stopped and held the sign close. "Gold One, be advised that a Presidential motor cade just pulled up to the gate."

Lieutenant Commander Adam Dawson lowered his head as he listened to the reports. "Gold One copies, continue to monitor." His tone was filled with pessimism.

**********

The President paced the room, as he checked his watch again. "Come on people; let's get the show on the road for crying out loud."

His pacing stopped and he turned suddenly to see his personal secretary, Ann Livingston, enter. She was smartly dressed in her business suit, as she stood in the doorway of the Oval Office and held her clipboard filled with papers and notes. "Excuse me, Mr. President, the motor cade is outside the North entrance when you're ready, Sir."

"Thank you, Ann. If you would please, contact Secretary Cothran and tell her I'll be arriving shortly," he replied as his face took on a large smile.

President Henry Walker followed his secretary out and motioned to the Secret Service agent standing by the door. As they moved toward the hall, he brought his arm up and spoke into the microphone attached to his wrist. "All teams, Liberty, is moving."

**********

The two agents who guarded the door to the North entrance cast their eyes downward as they listened to the call on the President's movement. Suddenly, they walked out, looked at the transportation detail, and nodded their heads. With sharp eyes, they all began scanning the area for any possible threat.