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“ROGER THAT.” Rapp climbed the steep concrete staircase that led to the Oval Office. When he reached the top, he pressed the latch and pulled the wall in toward him. He checked to his left first and then moved through the dining room and into the pantry. There he stopped and looked out at the door across the hallway.
“Whiskey Four, are you in position? Over.”
Harris and his three SEALs were crouched against the wall just outside the White House mess. Having gone through this drill together countless times, they fell into their slots. Reavers was number one, followed by Clark, Rostein, and finally Harris—the same way they had jumped out of the plane.
“We’re ready to go on your command, Iron Man.”
Before moving, Rapp asked, “How does my Tango look, control?”
“No change in status,” replied Kennedy.
“Roger that. All right, Harry, let’s bag ’em on three. One . . .” Rapp moved across the hall. “Two . . .” He placed his right hand on the doorknob. “Three!” Rapp threw the door open and stayed in his crouch. The Tango looked up, and as he did so, the thick black suppressor of Rapp’s submachine gun coughed twice.
Downstairs Mick Reavers raced into the White House mess in a crouch and peeled to his left, sweeping his area for targets. A split second into the room-clearing maneuver, he found one. The Tango was standing with his weapon cradled across his chest. Reavers placed two rounds directly in the center of the man’s forehead and sent him to the ground. The next three SEALs came in right on top of Reavers, each man peeling away and searching their area. Tony Clark, the number two man in the train, found his target thirty feet away and directly across the room. The Tango was bringing his gun up to fire, but it never happened. Two bullets hit him right between the eyes and sent him back over a chair. As Jordan Rostein entered the room, he peeled further to the right and came up blank. He fought the urge to sweep further to his right and went back over his area again. Harris was right on his heels and pivoted ninety degrees to cover the area all the way to the right. No more than eig
ht feet away, the snubbed muzzle of a shortened AK-74 was being brought to bear. Harris was quicker and sent two rounds into the man’s face.
Reavers called clear, and he was followed in quick succession by the other team members. They heard Rapp’s call over their radios, and then several of the hostages began to cry out for help. The SEALs ignored them and kept their weapons up as they searched the mass of hostages for any Tangos that might be using them for cover. Harris ordered Clark and Rostein to watch the hostages, and then he and Reavers moved out to secure the other areas of the room.
53
THE THREE LITTLE Bird helicopters moved out from their holding pattern and raced in over the White House. The rain was falling in sheets and the wind was howling. Most helicopter pilots had the common sense to stay on the ground during weather like this, but the pilots of the 160th
Special Operations Regiment trained in the worst possible conditions for this exact reason.
The only adjustment they made was to loosen their formation a bit to allow for some error that might be caused by the gusting wind. The first Little Bird came in and hovered ten feet off the deck over the eastern end of the roof. The NOTAR system on the chopper’s tail gave it unmatched hovering stability. All four troopers kicked free at the same time and rappelled the short distance to the rooftop. The men pulled their ropes from their rappelling clips and headed out for the guard booth. The second chopper came right behind the first, and then the third. The twelve operators of the Alpha Team immediately set out for their objective in the basement.
AZIZ WAS TRYING to figure out what to do when he heard the distinctive noise of an AK-74 being fired somewhere on the floors above. The noise caused him to freeze at first, and then he raced back to the anteroom of the bunker. Neither Yassin nor the woman had any idea that something was wrong. Aziz grabbed the woman by the arm and yanked her to her feet.
Pulling the woman down the hall, he yelled back to Yassin, “Get that door open.”
As they neared the stairwell, shots could be heard again. Aziz opened the door and yelled for Bengazi. He waited a moment but got no reply. Furious at all this when he was so close, he grabbed the woman by the hair and shoved her into the stairwell. He had to get to the first basement or there would be no escape. Aziz pushed the woman before him as the noise of battle grew louder.
When they made it to the first basement, he pressed on. At the next landing they found Bengazi and Ragib. The two of them were firing furiously at the stairs above them. Brass shell casings came tumbling down the steps. A hail of bullets hit the plaster wall just in front of them, and chips of the wall flew in every direction.
Aziz began backing down the staircase, yelling to Bengazi, “Muammar, hold on for another minute and then meet me in the tunnel!”
Without turning, Bengazi yelled, “Go!”
As Aziz headed back down the stairs, there was a bright flash and a loud bang from above. He reached the door to the first basement and burst through it with the president’s secretary. Using her as a shield, he checked both directions and then headed for the Treasury tunnel. He had to fight all of his urges to go back downstairs and see things through with the president, but he knew that would end only one way. This was it. He had been so close, but somehow the Americans had figured out what he was up to.
Aziz rounded the next corner to the left and stopped. Holding the woman up in front of him, he brought his fist back and then punched her with a right hook. The woman spun from the blow and went to the floor like a wet noodle. Aziz set his MP-5 down and began to tear off the green fatigues he’d been wearing for the last three days.
RAPP DID A quick search of the room and came up with nothing. One by one he pulled the canvas bags off the hostage’s heads, counting nine of them. The room reeked of urine.
“Whiskey Four, what’s your status?”
“We’re golden. Three Tangos down, and all of the hostages are secured.”
Rapp looked over at the bomb by the wall. Its red light was blinking. “We’re not out of this yet. Get your boys working on these bombs.”
Turning his attention back to the hostages, he said, “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine.” He took his knife and cut the first two uniformed Secret Service officers free. Then, giving his knife to them, he told them to free the others. Rapp spoke into his headset, “Control, what’s the plan?”
Kennedy answered. “Start moving the hostages into the tunnel. If there’s no other safe way out, we’ll off-load them by helicopter from the roof.”
“Roger that.” Rapp looked back at the hostages, who were still trying to get up. “Can you people move?” A couple of them nodded, and Rapp said, “All right. Follow me, and don’t touch anything. Those of you that can’t move, I’ll come back and get you.”
Rapp led the first three out of the room and toward the hidden staircase. “Control, what’s the update on Aziz?” Rapp waited but got no reply. He repeated the question as he went back to grab a couple more hostages and was stopped cold in the hallway outside the Roosevelt Room. He had heard a beep and looked down at the bomb on the wall. The red light had stopped blinking and was now green. Beneath that, two red numbers appeared.
