CHAPTER SIX
After the shock of being in the same room as the leader of the free world
wore off, Paige stepped into the room. From the corner of her eyes, she saw
Walter do the same. She now saw why she was necessary to this case. Walter
didn't deal well with authority. Okay, he sucked at it. And who else represented
authority more than the man in front of them?
"Welcome," he said, moving forward and extending his hand. "Ms Dineen? Mr
O'Brien? Thank you for coming."
"It's an honor, Mr President," she said, shaking his hand. She nudged Walter
and murmured, "Right?"
"Yes, right. Quite the honor, Mr President." She winced as who she always
thought of as Smarmy Walter surfaced, giving the man an overenthusiastic
handshake and a slightly gruesome smile. "You have a problem with your internet?"
he asked condescendingly. But thankfully, the president didn't notice. He
indicated the computer sitting on the desk.
"The Wi-Fi connection was working fine until last night. Now it's spotty.
Keeps going out. And the speed is at a snail's pace."
"Sounds like something is interfering with the signal," Walter said. He started
to move toward the equipment but Paige stopped him with a tap on his shoulder.
"Ask first," she whispered.
"May I?" The president nodded. Walter came around the desk, set down his
backpack, then immediately began clicking the mouse and tapping keys.
"He certainly seems to know what he's doing," the president remarked to Paige.
"Are you his assistant?"
"In a way." She glanced over at Walter, who was frowning, something he often
did when concentrating on his work. But this time, he appeared to be confused
by whatever he was seeing on the monitor.
"Did you find out what the problem is already?" she asked. When she walked
over to stand next to him, it became apparent something was terribly wrong.
The picture on the screen was slowly being eaten away by a yellow snake slithering
across it.
"Why is that happening?" she asked.
"I don't know," replied Walter. She was taken aback to hear a hint of panic
in his voice as he hit a couple more keys. "I can't get it to stop."
"What is it?" The president came around to look over Walter's shoulder. That's
when the doors flew open and the room was filled with about twenty people
dressed in paramilitary uniforms, each pointing an assault rifle at them.
"Oh my God." Paige instinctively raised her hands, as did the president.
Walter just stared at the intruders. "Raise your hands," she hissed, fearing
what might happen if he didn't.
He didn't appear to hear her at first, then slowly lifted his hands in the
air. After he surrendered, the group members sprung into action, first taking
out the pair of Secret Service agents in the room with a few well-placed
blows.
Two other men came forward, each grabbing one of the president's arms. Four
more seized Walter and Paige. They were hustled down the hallway, then up
a flight of stairs. Paige lost sight of the president in the chaos.
They were shoved into a room and pushed onto a large mattress on the floor,
where they were stripped of their shoes, watches, phones, Walter's wallet,
belt, and tie, and Paige's jacket, purse, scarf, and jewelry. Their hands
were forced behind their backs and zip-tied. Zip-ties were placed around
their ankles as well. Guns were trained on them the whole time. It was done
quietly and quickly and with a precision that was breathtaking.
"What are you going to do with us?" Paige asked. Walter could hear the terror
in her voice.
He answered her question when it became obvious the others wouldn't. "We're
their insurance." He glanced around the room. "You're holding the president
for a ransom of some kind, correct?"
A man nearest them nodded. "The government has twenty-four hours to meet
our demands. If they don't. . ." He shrugged. "You two will be incentive
for them to change their minds." He bent over and grasped Paige's chin, forcefully
lifting it to make her look him in the eyes. "It's going to be a shame to
mar such a pretty face." He let go of Paige, revealing red marks on her skin
that Walter knew would later become bruises.
"Keep your hands off of her," he demanded, struggling against his bonds.
He tried to kick out at the person closest to him.
One of the captors threatened to hit Walter in the head with the butt of
his weapon, but the man who had touched Paige barked. "No, not yet. We need
them alive. For now. But any more of that nonsense, and all bets are off."
He glared menacingly at Walter.
He couldn't protect Paige if he were unconscious. Or worse. He needed to
compose himself. Walter took several deep breaths and stopped moving.
"That's better," the man sneered. "You two should get comfy. It's going to
be a long night." The de facto leader motioned with his hand then he and
most of the others left the room. A woman remained behind, tossing a blanket
at them before she, too, departed. The door was firmly closed and they heard
a key twist in the lock, trapping them inside the room.
Walter had no idea how long they sat in stunned silence. Just that morning,
he had been yelling at Toby at the garage, and now he was being held as a
hostage with Paige and the President of the United States. The absurdity
of the situation almost made him laugh. Almost.
"Oh, God, what just happened?" Paige asked, looking around the room, her
eyes full of confusion. "What are we going to do? I can't. . . Oh God, this
can't be happening."
"We can't give up," he replied, not liking the despair in her voice. "I will
find a way out of this."
He scanned the room, calculating in his mind as he murmured. "Some kind of
storage room, approximately five feet by seven by 8 feet high, single point
of entry, no window or vents. . ." Squinting at the door, he added, "Keyed
entry, only accessible from the other side, no knob. One light bulb in the
ceiling, no switch." Walter tested the mattress by trying to bounce on it.
"No springs, most likely filled with a blend of polyester and cotton."
"So what does that all mean?" asked Paige.
"It means unless I'm missing something," he replied, "there is no way to
escape And if even there were, we have nothing we could use to assist us.
They took anything even remotely useful." He glanced at her, saw her panic
stricken face, knowing he should soften the blow but not knowing how. "And
as confident as I am the rest of the team will do whatever it takes to intervene,
it means that we have a 100% chance of being dead in less than twenty-four
hours."