We jumped out of the Humvee and I swallowed hard as we ran up the steps toward the smoked-glass doors.
Two Secret Service agents moved to intercept us; a tall, muscular woman who looked as though she knew her way around a chokehold, and a short, sinewy man who moved with the graceful elegance of a predator.
“Can we help you?” the woman asked.
“We need to see Secretary Carver,” Fuller replied, referring to the Secretary of Defense.
“He’d kind of busy right now, sir,” the man replied with a self-indulgent smile.
I caught Fuller gesturing behind his back, and glanced over my shoulder to see four Marine guards at the bottom of the steps, drawn by the arrival of the air station’s second-in-command. They were watching his hand movements, signals instructing them to make ready. They drifted up the stairs nonchalantly.
“We need to see the secretary right now,” Fuller said. “It’s a matter of national security.”
If the Secret Service agents sensed danger, they gave no hint of it.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the woman replied. “Everyone who’s meant to be in this building is already inside. No one else gets in.”
“Sergeant,” Fuller commanded, “take these people into custody.”
The four Marines who’d been coming up the steps sprang into action and raised their weapons at the Secret Service agents.
“This is Naval Air Station Fallon, and I am the executive officer,” Fuller said. “You are hereby under military arrest.”
“Stop!” a voice yelled, and I turned to see two Secret Service agents who’d been standing by the convoy draw their weapons.
“Corporal!” Fuller shouted at the leader of another squad of Marines by the cars. “Hold those men!”
The second squad swarmed the other agents.
“Guns down! Guns down!” the Marines bellowed.
Fuller turned to the sergeant who led the team holding the man and woman at gunpoint. “With us, sergeant. You men hold fast.”
I followed Fuller and the sergeant into the building, where we encountered a pair of puzzled Marine privates, who’d seen what was happening outside.
“You men with us,” Fuller said, and they fell in behind me.
We ran through a large lobby, and Fuller used his base security pass to get us into the main block. We sprinted down a long corridor, went round a corner and saw two Secret Service agents either side of a blast door.
“Down!” the sergeant yelled, raising his rifle at the startled men.
“Hold them,” Fuller commanded the two Marine privates we’d picked up in the lobby. “With me, sergeant.”
Fuller used the biometric palm reader and iris scanner to open the blast doors, and we stepped into one of the most secure places on Earth.
CHAPTER 108
LIKE ROWDY PARTY crashers, Fuller, the sergeant and I burst into a huge air-cooled room. More than eighty people were seated theatre-style, facing a podium that had been decked out in the Stars and Stripes. This was a gathering of some of the most senior military commanders in the United States, and there were a lot of uniforms and chest candy—brightly colored ribbons—on display. Marines and Secret Service agents were dotted at key points around the room. Beyond the seating area, two glass walls overlooked a vast server farm that stretched as far as the eye could see. A large clock hung from one of the interior walls, displaying a countdown that had just cycled through three minutes. The audience had been listening to Eli Carver, the Secretary of Defense, who was at the lectern, partway through his speech. He paused and looked at us in bemusement.
“Can we help you gentlemen?” he asked.
The assembled audience turned as one, and two Secret Service agents started toward us.
“Excuse me, sirs,” one of the agents said.
“Mr. Secretary, you have to stop the countdown,” Fuller responded.
“XO, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” a brigadier general asked as he got to his feet. I guessed it was Mark Hawkins, the base commander.