"I'm not sending Cobra Team in without backup. They'll never make it past the front gate!"
They were dead in the water. His blood ran cold, and he felt the color drain from his face—there was only one play left now. Tom picked up the headset and sank slowly into his seat. This was bigger than them. Bigger than him, it was the mission. He knew this.
"Cobra team, we are still under attack and have lost fire control. The only way to stop the UAV is to take the White House. Can you breach without backup?" The pregnant pause told him everything he needed to know and the bile rose in his throat.
On the ground, Sasha looked at her team. Kara. Burk. It was up to them now. They silently agreed. This was their stand, the end of the road—they were either in, and by God, they'd figure it out—or they'd die trying. "We can do it. We found their weak spot. We'll radio when it's done." Didn't know if that lie was meant for him or for them, probably both.
Tom stared into the distance… he'd just spun the revolver and held up the gun. How many bullets left, Tom. "Roger. Out." He took the headset off, mouth dry as a bone. Turned absently to his XO. "Set EMCON, condition Alpha."
Bang.
He'd have to wait to find out if the chamber was empty.
"Once that elevator door opens, there's no turning back." Sasha saw it in their faces. They were ready to die with her for them—for it all.
Tom's heart was pounding. Counting in his head, seconds, which turned to minutes while he hoped to a God he wasn't sure he still believed in that she wasn't already dead. He guessed the only relief would be that he'd die too if she failed. They all would. He wouldn't have to live with the guilt but that was the coward's way out, and he was not a coward.
It was fucking chaos. There was no plan. Just an all-out desperate attempt to shoot and not get killed—the men were coming from everywhere. All of a sudden, she was hit, propelled sideways by a gut shot she hadn't seen coming. Her ribs screamed in protest, saved by a sat phone. Keep moving.
"Three more missiles incoming!" Lt. Cameron Burk warned.
Tom delivered the order. "Fire, fire, fire!"
They'd hit their target, but now they were out of ammo. Cameron spoke again. "That UAV's got at least two missiles left!"
"C'mon Sasha," Tom encouraged under his breath. As if mentally willing her to succeed could make it so—would change their odds. As if she could hear him from 2,000 miles away.
It went quiet. The UAV was in the drink… maybe, just maybe—the plan had worked.
"Last stand!" Carlton Burk hollered as they huddled behind desks. They'd saved the James but there was no way they could save themselves. Settled over him in that moment that he could die happy with that.
I'm sorry Tom, she thought.
"Break EMCON, try Cobra team," Tom commanded. He leaned against a post for support, waiting… one minute stretched into two, two into three, three into four… Granderson repeating her attempts to hail his crew. He could hear the blood pumping in his veins as the static chatter over the radio rung true. He turned to his Lt. and she shook her head. She'd tried to hail them longer than she should have anyway—for him.
Because he wasn't ready to confirm for himself what they all knew. Cobra team was gone. Tom crumbled, closing his eyes shut tight. Let his head fall as he leaned there, defeated. Air forced from his lungs and struggling to breathe.
He killed her.
He killed Kara.
He killed Burk.
He killed them.
She was laying, dead or dying on the ground 2,000 miles from him—and he wasn't there.
He killed her.
No one moved an inch, the silence and depression heavy and thick in the air.
"Nathan James, this is Cobra team on Navy Red, over." His heart skipped a beat. Head snapped up, suddenly there was air again. Looked at the ceiling where the speakers projected her voice in wonder. Relief. Air. Love. Wasted no time in picking up the red phone.
"Cobra team, Nathan James. You saved our ass… I'm not gonna lie, we sure are glad to hear your voice." I thought you were dead. He could feel his hands shaking.
"Head on a swivel."
He made a face in understanding. A promise—she was badass and he was proud.
"The White House is secure."
Couldn't see the way she held that radio her chest, nor the smile that pulled at her lips.
It all went to shit twenty minutes later.