~Chapter 7~

~Chapter 7~

The next day was the day Josh would forever say was the day everything started to really fall apart.
The morning started out like normal, Josh and Agent Vale did their rounds of the Estate before breakfast, Rosas and Callaway escorted the President to the Whitehouse, and Nathan let Lexy beat him in a game of poker. At about 10:00Am Josh’s phone rang.
“Josh here.”
“Hey Captain, this is Rosas, I’m at the Whitehouse. We have a strange car parked out here in front of the main gate; it’s a black ’95 Accord, no plates or distinguishing markings.”
“Have you checked it out?”
“No, it has a not that says and I quote; “For Josh”. So the boys over here don’t want to touch it until you give the order.”
Josh sat back, his mind working quickly.
“Okay, thanks Ralph. I’ll be over as soon as I can, but I have to secure some things with Director Nicolas and then iron out some specifics with the new agents; so I might be a few hours. Until then have security check it out, but be careful about it.”
“Aye, Sir. We’ll look forward to seeing you.”
With that short exchange Josh hung up and went to the Estate’s performance hall to brief the new additions to his security team.

Lexy and Nathan sat together in the performance hall at one of the circular tables. Lexy absent-mindedly shuffled a deck of playing cards while Nathan sat flicking a butterfly-knife in one hand and swirling a bottle of vodka in the other.
Lexy nodded at his bottle, “I thought you and Josh hated that stuff.”
Nathan sat up and looked at the liquid in the bottle as if he would find an answer there. It took him a moment to find one.
“Man can’t live on tequila alone.”
Lexy smiled sweetly at him, “You seem to be able to.”
Nathan leaned back in his chair again.
“Yeah, whelp… once you head’s spinnin’ it don’t matter what you drink. After that it all tastes the same.”
Al Bono sauntered in and sat next to Nathan. He eyed the knife and bottle.
“You looking to fight or party?”
Nathan threw him a condescending look.
“What’s the difference?”
Al shrugged, “I guess there is none for some people. I guess my view of a good time just doesn’t involve getting my teeth knocked out.”
Nathan nodded sagely and took a drink.
“The trick, Bud, is to not get your teeth knocked out. That’s when you can party safely.”
Al laughed and looked at the ex-soldier in wonder.
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Nathan. You’re different than most Marines I’ve met.”
Nathan threw a lopsided look at Al, “That’s ‘cause you never met one born in Portland Oregon who was raised by thieves and a half-blind dog.”
Lexy looked at Nathan in surprised.
“You were raised by a dog?”
Nathan grinned at her, “Is it really so surprising, Hon?”
Lexy laughed and started dealing a game of solitaire onto the table in front of her.
“I guess not. Don’t you have any family?”
Nathan shook his head and examined the blade of his knife.
“Nope. Born on the streets of Portland and raised by a pickpocket who wanted to train me to do what he did. He was pulled in by the cops when I was 5 and I met this black lab I called Kay. We stuck together until he was killed by bad-ass Tat in New York. I met Josh and stuck with him since then.”
Al leaned forward with interest.
“What’s a “Tat”?”
“The Tats were a big gang in New York a few years back. But I hear they got nailed by the Pinks recently.”
“What happened to the Tat who killed Kay?”
Nathan’s eyes grew narrow and hard as he stared at the silvery shine of his knife blade.
“He ended up leaking blood in a dumpster off of Times Square. I can guarantee he aint killed a soul since.”
Lexy stared at Nathan in horror.
“You killed him?”
“Play with fire you get burned. In his case he’s probably playing with fire and brimstone right about now.”

Pyros had been practicing his aim. He was getting good, even if he did say so himself.
And his weapon? A Pacific Aerospace Corporation Cresco topdresser. A near cousin of the PAC 750XL skydiving platform, the Cresco normally was used for either crop-dusting or aerial firefighting. It was an agile craft with a single prop engine and a payload of around 5,300 pounds. With a cruising speed of 140 kilometers per-hour and 1,560 feet per-minute rate of climb, the plane was perfect for Pyros’ little scheme.
He was just out of Reagan National Airport and on his way to bring fire down from the sky onto the heads of his enemies.

Ralph Rosas shouldered his MP5A5 and looked over the small scene before him.
Parked against the outside fence of the Whitehouse grounds was a black Honda Accord. It had appeared somewhere during the night with a sticky-note with the message “For Josh” scrawled in what Rosas assumed was a black Sharpie marker. The car was currently surrounded by Secret Service agents and a few local cops, being searched for bombs or anything that might explain the car’s mysterious appearance.
Rosas threw a glance across the car’s hood to Agent Callaway, who was receiving reports from the agents checking the car. Callaway gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, communicating the fact that nothing out of the ordinary had been found. Nothing that is, except for the car.
Acknowledging Callaway’s message with a shake of his head, Rosas turned his gave to the ground. As he shifted his weight, the burden of his SMG across his shoulder caused him to remember an event a few months back.
Agent Bono had just joined Josh’s newfound team, and had proven himself capable, if not slightly eccentric. He was a smart kid, but was obviously a rookie.
The event Rosas recalled was the time Bono tried to switch out his privately owned Galil assault rifle for his issued MP5A5. The Galil was an Israeli weapon designed in the 1970’s as the response to the AK-47. Bono had purchased the weapon worn and damaged from a gun show, and miraculously nursed the antique back to perfect working order.
The Captain had had to hide his smile when Agent Vale brought Bono and his pet firearm in to see him. An obvious admirer of antique weapons, Josh had looked the gun over and praised Bono for his restoration of the piece. But, the gun wasn’t regulation, so Bono had to go back to his MP5.
About four days later the enthusiastic rookie had tried to switch his Glock 9mm for an antique Luger. This time Josh had to tell him if he kept trying to bring his hobby to work, Josh would have to put him on suspension for a time.
That had stopped Bono from bringing his ancient guns to work, but every once in a while he brought a knife of small sword to show the Captain. He had gotten major kudos for brining in a Japanese katana in perfect condition. Rumor was that the Captain had even offered to buy the sword for quite a large sum, but Rosas didn’t know how valid the rumor was.
“Agent Rosas, the car is clean.”
Callaway approached and stood next to Rosas.
“Should we take it off to HQ until Agent Taske can look at it?”
Rosas shook his head.
“No, the Captain said he’d come here. We’ll just move inside the gate and leave it until he gets here.”
Callaway nodded and started for the gate.
“I’ll check on the President’s security detail and meet you inside.”
Rosas nodded and watched absent-mindedly as an agent got in and started the car with the car’s valet key they discovered in the glove box.
As the car was being driven slowly past him, Ralph noticed a fast ticking sound coming from the engine. He wasn’t a mechanic, but he knew that that sound did not belong in that car.
And as that thought crossed his mind, the car exploded.