Danger Close by James Sumner (classic novels for teens txt) 📕

up for them to see and pointed to the end. “These tiny, bent shards sticking out? They’re essentially propellors, like you would see on a—”

“Torpedo?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s what we figured.”

Devon nodded. “If I were to guess, I would say the shell casing for this thing is as advanced as the bullet itself.”

“In what way?” asked Collins.

“Well, you know how an ammunition round works, right?”

They both nodded.

“When the gunpowder behind the bullet ignites, it forces the bullet out of the end like a bat out of Hell. But for this bullet here to actually work, the shell would have to be constructed in such a way as to fire it and start its little motor on the end. Kinda like starting up a speedboat engine. Something would need to pull the rip cord, so to speak.”

“So, whatever weapon was used to fire that thing would also have to be heavily customized?” observed Julie.

Devon nodded. “Without a doubt. I’d need to take a look inside this thing to figure out how it did what it did. There has to be some kind of mechanism or counter-balancing design inside that would allow the propellors to maintain velocity beyond the normal drop-off point. That’s the only way a single round would have enough momentum to keep going after the first or second impact.”

“Can you give us a full report by the end of the day?” asked Julie.

Devon sighed. “I’ll give you what I can, of course.”

“Good. This is what you’re doing now. Everything else can wait. This is the priority, and no one can know what you’re working on, okay?”

“You got it, Miss Fisher.” He paused. “Am I okay to… y’know… dissect this thing?”

She nodded. “We’re not precious about it. We’re not collecting evidence for a conviction here. We want to know how it works in the hope that will lead us to who made it. Do what you have to do.”

He checked his watch. “Okay. Let me get to work.”

Collins patted his shoulder. “You’re a legend, Dev.”

The two of them walked away, heading for the stairs.

Devon leaned forward on his worktop, staring at the bullet he held between his finger and thumb. “Let’s see where you came from, little guy.”

Buchanan sat behind his desk, leaning his elbow on the arm of his chair, his hand covering his mouth. The call had gone as he had expected, but that hadn’t made it any easier to deal with.

The United Nations Security Council president had called personally. This month, it was the United Kingdom’s turn to chair the council. The conversation had been courteous and respectful, but the president had made no attempt to hide the severity and urgency of the situation.

Buchanan had been summoned to New York to attend an emergency session in the morning.

He felt tired beyond measure and burnt out to the point of near delirium. He checked his watch.

I guess I have a long flight I can sleep through, at least, he mused.

As he stood, there was a knock on the door. It opened and Kim appeared.

“Sir, I’ve got Jericho for you,” she said.

“On video?” he asked.

She nodded.

He let out a long, tired breath. “Sure. Patch him through. But after this, I need to fly to New York, okay? Can you tell the pilot to ready the jet please?”

Kim’s brow furrowed with concern. “New York?”

“Yes. The UNSC has wasted little time in gathering to give me a scolding. The meeting’s first thing tomorrow, so I’m flying there now.”

“Okay.” She folded her arms across her chest and tapped a finger impatiently on her arm. “You’re going to eat and sleep on the plane, right?”

Buchanan smiled. “I’m going to try. Can you also arrange for a fresh suit for me to change into during the flight?”

“Of course.” She pointed to his wall-mounted TV screen. “Jericho will be up in a moment.”

Kim closed the door again. He perched on the edge of his desk, staring blankly at the floor. A moment later, the screen flickered into life. He looked up to see a pixelated image of Jericho sitting behind a desk, looking down into a laptop camera.

“How’s it going, soldier?” asked Buchanan with a friendly yet tired smile.

Jericho’s expression betrayed no emotion. His jaw was set, his gaze firm. His eyes were surrounded by the faint shadow of fatigue.

“I wish I could get out of the palace,” he said. “But it could be worse, all things considered.”

“Are you on lockdown?”

Jericho nodded. “Colonel Ramirez is personally heading up the security around the palace. His advice is to stay here and keep our heads down.”

“Do you trust him?”

He nodded again. “I do.”

“Okay. Then do as he says. You’re able to coordinate our forces on the ground still?”

“Affirmative. I’m in regular contact with every outpost across the country. Our personnel are holding their ground but giving the Palugan military a respectably wide berth.”

“It’s all we can do for now. Any reports of violence?”

Jericho shook his head. “Nothing significant. A few riots here and there, but they’re small and manageable. The general’s men have emerged from their bases and taken to the streets to lock everywhere down. They’ve been a little too forceful with civilians for my liking, but it’s their backyard. I’ve reiterated to our people that we will not get involved unless there is a risk to innocent life.”

“Thank you, Jericho,” said Buchanan earnestly. “I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle, but I’m glad I have you there.”

Jericho offered a brief smile. “It’s the job, right? How are things there? I don’t have international news here, and the internet is sketchy.”

“Yeah, your feed isn’t great. The sound keeps glitching, but it’s passable. It’s a goddamn circus here. You would think it was Kennedy or Lincoln all over again. The media are having a field day, and from a PR standpoint, GlobaTech are public enemy number one.”

“How quickly things change, huh? Anything I can do to help from here?”

Buchanan shook his head. “No, but I’ll let you know if that changes. Your man arrived earlier. Jones.”

“I was about