Page 149 of Enemy Within
“Why do you want the nuclear codes, Jennifer?” If he could get her to respond, he could get a bead on her.
More shuffling, like soft footsteps, to his left. Welby spun again, trying to peer through the smoke.
Her voice came from the right. “In moments, this world will end. And when it does, we will be in control of the world to come. These weapons guarantee that control.”
“Sounds like a shitty world!” Pete shouted. “I don’t want any part of that!”
Welby spared a withering glare for Pete. Pete swallowed hard, his jaw snapping shut with an audible crack.
“Pete, you were supposed to be killed in the first attack,” she spat. “You and your big fucking mouth.”
“You lost then and you’re going to lose now!” Slowly, Welby slipped forward. He had a target on the left and Jennifer on the right.Come on, Beech, what do you see?
“You can kill me, Agent Welby. I’m glad to die. But it won’t change anything. We’ve already won.”
The last digit flashed, locking into place. An alarm blared, and the monitors all flashed the same alert.Nuclear safeguard offline. Launch protocols active.
“Shit.” They were out of time.
“Fuck, Welby, the codes have been breached!” Beech’s panicked voice rang in his earpiece. “Get her, now!”
What the fuck did Beech think he’d been doing? Gritting his teeth, Welby swung to the left, spraying bullets down the side of the bunker, hoping he’d hit someone. He whirled, turning to his right, and caught Jennifer dashing for the main display.
Gunshots roared, bullets sizzling past his head. Instincts screamed for him to duck, to take cover, but he kept going. He heard Bell behind him, spinning and firing on Jennifer’s men hiding in the hallways, waiting to ambush them. Pete, stepping forward, firing on the teammate she’d hidden to the left, behind a rack of servers. Pete was just disciplined enough to not go full auto, but he still emptied his clip into the man and into the servers. Sparks flew, scattering around the cramped bunker. Overhead, lights flickered and spat, fluorescent bulbs exploding in a shower of sparks.
Jennifer raced forward as the first bullet slammed into Welby’s shoulder. He kept going, firing as he ran.
A bullet plunged into his back.
She punched the orders to activate nuclear warheads. Across the country, silos were screaming online, warheads cycling into active mode. Silo covers were sliding back, revealing their deadly cargo. She was launching now. A nuclear blitzkrieg. He had to stop her.
Two bullets slammed into him, into his thigh. He stumbled, but pushed on.
One of his shots shattered an elbow. Another blasted her hip. Jennifer fell forward, bracing her upper body on the console.
Steps away, he was steps away. She clawed herself up, her fingers racing over the command controls. Presidents weren’t coders. They were push-button junkies, and the bunker had been built to accommodate that. Procedures for firing nuclear warheads, and potentially ending the world, were easy to enter, once the code was active. Targets selected automatically, the major population centers of nations on a touchscreen console.
Jennifer selected cities across all of the United States. Her hand hovered over the launch key.
Welby threw himself against her, slamming her fully into the console. He grabbed her remaining arm and ripped it backward, tearing it from its socket. She screamed and kicked behind her, trying to sweep his legs out from beneath him.
He spun her, grasping her throat and slamming her back against the console. Both her arms hung useless; one shot at the elbow, one dangling dislocated from her shoulder. She glared up at him, smoke staining her pale cheeks, blood flecked across her blonde hair. Once, he’d thought she was beautiful.
Welby pressed the barrel of the weapon to her belly and pulled the trigger, emptying his clip into her. She trembled and shook beneath his grasp with every shot, the bullets passing through her and into the control station. Circuit boards fried and the system whined, crashing offline.Access Lostflashed on the main monitor.Reenter nuclear activation codes.
“You did it!” Beech shouted in his ear. “Jesus Christ, you did it! Welby, holy fuck!”
Beech’s voice warbled like he’d fallen underwater. Welby heard footsteps running behind him, heard someone shout his name.
He stumbled, falling to his knees, and then pitched to his side. He still held Jennifer’s throat in his iron-clad grip. She came with him, and he stared into her eyes, watching as she shuddered, as she breathed her last breath. As her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went limp in his hand.
He let go, and she flopped away, falling to the bunker’s concrete floor like a ragdoll.
Hands grabbed him, tried to steer him down. Roamed over his body, searching for his wounds. He closed his eyes. Saw Ethan, his colleague, his coworker, a man he’d spent twelve years beside. Saw President Spiers, a man he’d thought he’d failed. Had thought he’d let die.
He saw both of them dancing at the White House, twirling beneath the chandeliers of the ballroom, a golden glow wreathing their movements, catching their radiant smiles. Around and around they went, spinning and dancing, laughing and smiling. Happy. So very happy.
Mission accomplished, Mr. President.
