Project Apollo

Chapter 26

"We have a Crash. This field trip is with you, Mr. Garrison?" The tour guide puffed his chest, assuming the protector role.

"Yes, they are with me."

"You are not to let anyone out of that room. Do you understand me?" he ordered. Garrison emphatically nodded and turned to the field trip.

"Come on, kids! In here..." He ushered them into the room, along with the teacher, and the Secret Service agent closed them into their quarantine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The First Lady paced through the main floor of the West Wing past the Press Secretary's office and the Cabinet Room on her left. She dictated orders to her assistant, regarding the recycling campaign she had launched at the beginning of the term.

"We have been scheduled on Ellen for three weeks from now," her assistant briefed from her Day-Timer.

"Good... think of a prank or something I could do to her. We need to make it fun or no one will pay attention," she added. "It needs to be YouTube worthy..."

"What do you think about throwing pieces of her set away in a large recycle bin? Take the furniture, the props anything and everything on set and throw it in the recycling." The First Lady stopped in the middle of the hallway and froze on Sally.

"That's pretty damn good, Sally...Plan it caref—" At that moment a wave of Secret Service agents swept through the hall.

"Mrs. Hooper?" Cushioned steps from down the hall advanced across the Oriental rug.

"What is this Jimmy?" She eyed the head of her Secret Service detail.

"We have a Code-Black Crash." The First Lady stopped in her tracks, her expression fell to a grave concern. "Code Black?"

"Yes ma'am. The President has been taken down to the bunker." Jeanne didn't know how to react as lockdowns happened often but never this severe.

"How bad is it, Jimmy?"

"We don't know," he answered arduously. The First Lady had to remain strong for she was the matron of her house.

"Where are we setting up?" she asked throwing her hands up in there as she proceeded toward the end of the hallway.

"The Oval Office is the closest quarantine zone." Agent Jimmy Doughty ushered her with one open hand. They walked through the President's secretary's office into the open space of the Oval Office. The First Lady's eyes met the most prominent man amid the small crowd that had been gathered in the quarantine.

"Tom? What are you doing in here?" the First Lady asked, surprised to see the Vice President present.

"Hi Jeanne... I had to get a file, I was heading down to the Situation Room to meet your husband, but I guess I didn't make it in time." He ascended to his feet and offered her a greeting kiss on either cheek.

The First Lady grabbed a seat in the middle of the room on one of the loveseats. She surveyed the room and took note of the many worried expressions around.

I'm going to be playing hostess today, aren't I?

After the thought, her face lit up in a warm smile for all to see. The low murmurings around were broken by her own clear voice.

"I wish I had my Soduku book, this could be a while..." she quipped. The room's laughter responded as her eyes slowly descended to the floor, knowing her husband was somewhere below her, and wondered what the day's crisis could be. A portentous feeling consumed her, as the day she always dreaded had arrived.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Sorry, Mr. President," the other Secret Service agent said, nodding toward the ripped shoulder seam of his suit coat. The President finally noticed and tugged at the bottom fringe of his suit in an attempt to restore order to his appearance. He ran a combing hand through his hair as the elevator continued its quick descent. Upon reaching a depth of 120 feet below ground, the elevator opened to a large corridor of cement foundation. The Secret Service agents bustled out of the elevator and approached a fingerprint scanner on the wall before two large red doors, marked by the Presidential Seal. After scanning his fingerprint, Callahan typed a five-digit code, causing the doors to slide open with a gasp.

The Presidential Emergency Operations Center, or the PEOC, opened up before them. The interior walls encased the bunker in the drabby gray of cement reinforcement. The space stood as a complete contrast to the lavish furnishing in the residence above them. There was no artwork, no carpets or any regal décor of any kind for it was not a space for diplomacy, rather it was a space for survival.

A constant dimness hung over the bunker – the only lights in the room came from the hanging fluorescents overhead and monitors illuminating on the high wall. The feed had already been transferred from the Situation Room. The President ascended to a central stage platform where the fluorescents hung over a long cedar conference table with leather chairs. As he took his place at the head of the table, he surveyed the monitors and stopped on one feed, showing Ezra in the glass cell in the Compound.

How could anyone do this? What does he want? Who is really behind all of this? Is he just another pawn?

The members of his joint task force entered through the large red doors of the PEOC, breaking his concentration. Agent Callahan muttered in the President's ear.

"We are ready to seal the bunker." President Hooper nodded his head.

Callahan scanned his fingerprint to prompt the large red doors. They snapped closed, sending a resounding boom to echo through the bunker. They were now sealed off from the outside world. There was a feeling of intense trepidation in the air as the bunker's tenants reflected on their quarantine. The President couldn't help but a have the foreboding thought that they may never return above ground.

The President rotated in his chair turning from the doors back to the room. His task force looked up to the platform where their leader stood, battered by the events of the last thirty minutes, but strong.

The President then spoke.

"We have our best resources in this room. My Chief of Staff and best friend, Marty Jacobs; my National Security Advisor, Janet Powers; the Director of the NIH, Michelle Fernandez; one of the America's best kept secrets, Colonel Jackson Hardy, who created the most successful covert division we've ever had in our intelligence community; Director of the FBI John Fangold; NSA director Ben Deacon; CIA director Peter Hunterson; Special Agent Jack Callahan of the Secret Service and three of his finest..." The President finished his roll call and one by one found eye contact with the men and women looking onward.

"You all are the best resources I have right now... We have to stop this maniac before he kills more people. These reinforced walls are designed to protect us from any type of explosion and it could even protect us from a nuclear attack on Washington, DC. But these walls don't mean anything when it comes to a bacterial disease, because we are the weapon. Someone in this bunker could be infected with the disease right now... The only thing that we can do at this point is stop Ezra from infecting more targets and finding the cure." President Hooper paused and consulted the floor for a moment.

A switch flipped in him as he turned fiercer than they had ever seen. His jaw clenched, his lips tightened – his grave eyes raised back up to the room.

"We are locked in a hole120 feet down in the ground... the only way we climb out of this alive is to keep digging for answers."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you everyone for your support! It means the world to me. 

Vote, Comment and Share, and be sure to follow me!

www.Facebook.com/bbgallagher

Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14686764.B_B_Gallagher

Book Bub at https://www.bookbub.com/profile/b-b-gallagher?list=followers