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Ragi
b let his radio fall to his side, and he walked down the hallway toward the bunker. When he rounded the corner, he yelled, “Mustafa!” The plump man appeared from behind the door and peered down the hallway. Ragib held up his radio and yelled, “Rafique wants to talk to you.”
Mustafa Yassin nodded and started walking toward Ragib. After taking his ear protectors off, he brought his radio to his mouth and said, a “Rafique, I am here.” The plump little man kept walking. The farther away he got from the drills the better he could hear.
Back in the Situation Room, Aziz watched the UN story unfold on the TV and asked, “What is your progress?”
“I think it will take me about an hour.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think so. The drills are getting close. Once they have reached their mark, all I have to do is take them off the door and . . . and then it should take me another ten to twenty minutes of tinkering and it should be ready.”
“Call me when you are ready to take the drills off the door, and I will come over.”
Yassin wasn’t sure he heard him correctly and yelled into the radio, “You want me to call you when I’m ready to take the drills off the door?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” The dumpy safecracker turned and walked back down the hallway toward the bunker.
IRENE KENNEDY AND General Campbell were back in the control room getting ready to monitor Rapp’s foray into the West Wing. Director Stansfield and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs General Flood were sitting quietly one row behind, watching and waiting to offer their approval or opinion if needed.
General Campbell turned to one of his staffers sitting to his right and covered the mike on his headset. “Do another check on the communication links with Commander Harris, Delta, and HRT, and make sure we have backups in place.” The aide nodded and went about following the order.
On the big board at the front of the room several new shots from within the White House had been added. The two that Kennedy and Campbell were most interested in were the images provided by the head cams mounted on Rapp and Adams. They had made it to the other end of the tunnel and were in position to open the door and enter the hidden hallway that led into Horsepower and up a flight of stairs to the Oval Office. The danger, of course, was their inability to check what was on the other side of the gasket-sealed door.
Back at Langley a piece of intel had been collected that was creating quit a stir. Mustafa Yassin’s conversation with Aziz had been picked up by the tiny surveillance unit that Anna Rielly had placed in the ventilation shaft. Kennedy immediately ordered Rapp and Adams into a holding pattern while they reviewed the tape.
The words of Mustafa Yassin were replayed. When the segment was over, General Campbell looked to Kennedy and said, “That’s it. We’re not going to make it. We have to move H-hour up.” Kennedy agreed, and Campbell turned to the colonel on his right and said, “Reset H-hour for nineteen-thirty, and notify all commands.”
Campbell then stood to join Kennedy, who was conferring with Flood and Stansfield. The commander of JSOC listened to Kennedy explain the new time constraints.
“We need to get Iron Man moving. We have less than an hour to collect and disseminate any information he can gather.”
“I disagree.” Campbell shook his head. “I think we should put Iron Man in a holding pattern until just before the strike.”
“Why?” asked a frowning Kennedy.
“Commander Harris and his team will be in a position to jump within twenty minutes. I don’t think it’s worth risking a confrontation until we have everything in place. When we’re ready to move, we do so with complete surprise and overwhelming force.”
Flood nodded in agreement. “And we make sure there is no chance Aziz can get his hands on the president.”
“Absolutely.” Campbell pointed to the monitor on the board that showed the bunker door. “With our surveillance we can guarantee to stop him before that happens.”
Kennedy folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. “I disagree. I think we need to collect the intelligence. We can’t send HRT in blind, or it will be a slaughter.”
Flood looked to Director Stansfield. “Thomas?”
Stansfield stared at the big board for a half dozen seconds and then said, “Let’s consult Mitch. He’s on-site, and I’d like to get his opinion.”
Without waiting for agreement, Kennedy turned around and grabbed the headset off her desk. Holding it over one ear, she adjusted the lip mike and said, “Control to Iron Man. Come in.”
Rapp was leaning against the wall by the reinforced steel door, waitingimpatiently. His thoughts had drifted back to putting a bullet in the center of Aziz’s forehead. Again, he had not shared this with the people back at Langley, and he wasn’t about to, but if the chance came up, he was going to do it. Tactically it made the most sense to him. Kill the leader and watch the others flounder. The voice of his boss interrupted his pleasant thought.
Rapp pushed away from the wall and said, “I’m here. Go ahead.”
“It appears they will have the bunker door open in about sixty minutes.” There was a pause, and Kennedy added, “We’re not going to make it to H-hour.”
