come to drag her back to hell.
“Get off me!” she screamed and kicked him in the face, her high heel spiking his eye.
Kyle loosened his grip and slid back limply as the chopper started to climb.
Sachs gripped the back of Raghav’s bloody head, hoisted herself up on top of him and grabbed the stick. She saw the runway of the White Plains airport dead ahead.
She wiped her wet eyes and took a deep breath. The ground was coming up fast in the windshield, and the chopper began to spin with its own cloud of black smoke, going wobbly as it approached the small airport.
Sachs peered through the cracked windshield, straining to see. Then the curtain of smoke parted for a moment and she could see a team of federal agents and their vehicles waiting on the icy tarmac. A gigantic white jumbo jet dominated the runway.
She strapped herself into the pilot’s chair, so tight she could barely steer. Everything seemed to be whooshing around her, and she felt her stomach drop with the chopper. She could see several Air Force personnel rushing toward her as she plunked the chopper down with a heavy thud. Then something seemed to give way as the chopper tipped over on its side and everything went black.
21
1315 Hours
Nightwatch
C olonel Kozlowski studied Sachs as she lay on the fold-out surgical table in the Nightwatch plane’s medical center. Her eyes were closed beneath the high-intensity lights, an IV attached to her arm. Her black hair was brushed back from her face, her shoes removed and the belt around her skirt loosened.
The young medic had finished stitching a gash on her shoulder and was studying her with awe. Her bloody blouse was gone, and he gazed at the size C cups of her bra rising and falling as she breathed. He let out a low whistle. “Hail to the Chief.”
“It’s president-designate, Lieutenant Nordquist,” said Koz, feigning indifference. “Nothing official until I know she’s fit for office. Is she fit?”
“She’s in better shape than those Green Berets on that Black Hawk, that’s for sure.” Nordquist started tapping up a chart for her on his tablet computer. “What the hell was that all about, anyway?”
That’s what Koz wanted to know. What kind of remarkable woman could survive that kind of battle? Or cause it?
“You tell me,” said Sachs, opening her eyes.
They were soft and brown, Koz noticed, but her voice was dry and cracked. It was probably the cabin air. He wondered how much she had heard. “Dehydration, ma’am.”
“There’s got to be a better explanation for their behavior than a lack of Gatorade.”
A sense of dry wit too, thought Koz.
“No, ma’am. You’re the one dehydrated. We’ll give the IV another 20 minutes and take you off when we’re at cruising altitude.”
She started. “You mean we’re in the air?”
“Thirty thousand feet,” said Koz. “Welcome aboard the presidential Advanced Airborne Command Post.”
“Then I want to see the president,” she demanded, and Koz didn’t know if she seriously didn’t understand the situation or was testing him.
He paused. “Why?”
“Because those soldiers sent to pick me up tried to kill me,” she said.
Koz blinked. “The Army Green Berets?”
She nodded. “Who sent them?”
“Uh, I did.” He saw her eyes widen. “But I can assure you that I did not give Colonel Kyle orders to harm you or anyone else. He must have gone rogue.”
She looked at him with a glint of paranoia. “Don’t insult me with a lone gunman theory. Because he had a dozen others with him, all wearing the uniform of this country.”
Koz exchanged a glance with Nordquist. “Physically, she checks outs,” the medic said with a shrug. “Mentally, who knows? She’s pretty shaken up.”
“I’m fine,” she said flatly. “Where’s Special Agent Raghav?”
“Didn’t make it, ma’am.”
Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her head. “He was brave.” Then her head snapped up again. “Jennifer,” she said with a
“Get off me!” she screamed and kicked him in the face, her high heel spiking his eye.
Kyle loosened his grip and slid back limply as the chopper started to climb.
Sachs gripped the back of Raghav’s bloody head, hoisted herself up on top of him and grabbed the stick. She saw the runway of the White Plains airport dead ahead.
She wiped her wet eyes and took a deep breath. The ground was coming up fast in the windshield, and the chopper began to spin with its own cloud of black smoke, going wobbly as it approached the small airport.
Sachs peered through the cracked windshield, straining to see. Then the curtain of smoke parted for a moment and she could see a team of federal agents and their vehicles waiting on the icy tarmac. A gigantic white jumbo jet dominated the runway.
She strapped herself into the pilot’s chair, so tight she could barely steer. Everything seemed to be whooshing around her, and she felt her stomach drop with the chopper. She could see several Air Force personnel rushing toward her as she plunked the chopper down with a heavy thud. Then something seemed to give way as the chopper tipped over on its side and everything went black.
21
1315 Hours
Nightwatch
C olonel Kozlowski studied Sachs as she lay on the fold-out surgical table in the Nightwatch plane’s medical center. Her eyes were closed beneath the high-intensity lights, an IV attached to her arm. Her black hair was brushed back from her face, her shoes removed and the belt around her skirt loosened.
The young medic had finished stitching a gash on her shoulder and was studying her with awe. Her bloody blouse was gone, and he gazed at the size C cups of her bra rising and falling as she breathed. He let out a low whistle. “Hail to the Chief.”
“It’s president-designate, Lieutenant Nordquist,” said Koz, feigning indifference. “Nothing official until I know she’s fit for office. Is she fit?”
“She’s in better shape than those Green Berets on that Black Hawk, that’s for sure.” Nordquist started tapping up a chart for her on his tablet computer. “What the hell was that all about, anyway?”
That’s what Koz wanted to know. What kind of remarkable woman could survive that kind of battle? Or cause it?
“You tell me,” said Sachs, opening her eyes.
They were soft and brown, Koz noticed, but her voice was dry and cracked. It was probably the cabin air. He wondered how much she had heard. “Dehydration, ma’am.”
“There’s got to be a better explanation for their behavior than a lack of Gatorade.”
A sense of dry wit too, thought Koz.
“No, ma’am. You’re the one dehydrated. We’ll give the IV another 20 minutes and take you off when we’re at cruising altitude.”
She started. “You mean we’re in the air?”
“Thirty thousand feet,” said Koz. “Welcome aboard the presidential Advanced Airborne Command Post.”
“Then I want to see the president,” she demanded, and Koz didn’t know if she seriously didn’t understand the situation or was testing him.
He paused. “Why?”
“Because those soldiers sent to pick me up tried to kill me,” she said.
Koz blinked. “The Army Green Berets?”
She nodded. “Who sent them?”
“Uh, I did.” He saw her eyes widen. “But I can assure you that I did not give Colonel Kyle orders to harm you or anyone else. He must have gone rogue.”
She looked at him with a glint of paranoia. “Don’t insult me with a lone gunman theory. Because he had a dozen others with him, all wearing the uniform of this country.”
Koz exchanged a glance with Nordquist. “Physically, she checks outs,” the medic said with a shrug. “Mentally, who knows? She’s pretty shaken up.”
“I’m fine,” she said flatly. “Where’s Special Agent Raghav?”
“Didn’t make it, ma’am.”
Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her head. “He was brave.” Then her head snapped up again. “Jennifer,” she said with a
Similar Books
