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

She frowned. “This is Secretary Phillips.”

“Elaine? It’s Ryan Schultz.”

A low murmur rippled around the bench. Phillips composed herself quickly.

“Mr. President, what I can do for you?”

“You can postpone this hearing. I want GlobaTech to help resolve this situation in Paluga. They can’t do that with their hands tied behind their backs.”

Rutherford cleared his throat. “Mr. President, as president of the United Nations, I must insist we follow protocol here. They are our peacekeepers, not America’s. Surely, this falls under our—”

“John, is that you?” asked the president, cutting him off.

“Um, yes, sir.”

“John, am I right in saying it’s already been established that GlobaTech isn’t in Paluga on U.N. business?”

Rutherford glared at Buchanan, who didn’t attempt to suppress a small smile. “Yes, sir. That’s correct. But—”

“Then you can sit this one out. Each and every man and woman in a GlobaTech uniform is an American citizen on foreign soil in a goddamn warzone. Pretty sure, seeing as I’m sitting in this office and you’re not, that their lives are my business. And I’m telling you all right now, whatever issue you have with GlobaTech is going to wait until this is over. You know how good they are, John. It’s why the U.N. hired them, right?”

His comments were met with a silence that said more than words ever could.

“Thank you, Mr. President,” said Phillips.

“Thank you, Elaine. Moses?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You know what to do, son. Don’t make me regret this.”

Buchanan stood tall. His expression hardened with renewed purpose. “Yes, sir.”

The call clicked off. He picked up the phone and dialed another number. It was answered after one ring.

“Yeah?” said Jericho, sounding out of breath.

“Jericho, it’s me,” replied Buchanan.

“You’re cutting it a little fine, boss. Should I be glad to hear from you?”

Buchanan fixed President Rutherford with an icy stare as he spoke into the phone. “The U.N. has backed down for now, Jericho. Order every single one of our operatives to protect any Palugan citizens they see under threat. Same goes for our allies in the military. If they meet with any resistance from the general’s forces, they put them down. Am I clear?”

“Exactly what I needed to hear, boss.”

“Do what you do best, Jericho. Stop the general, put an end to this goddamn coup, and get your ass back home.”

He ended the call and looked each member of the committee in the eyes.

“I swear to Christ, if my men are too late and I lose them because of this bullshit hearing, I will dedicate the rest of my life to ruining yours. Every… last… one of you.”

23

The palace sizzled with renewed hope and purpose. In the president’s office, the former chief of staff, Raul Montez, stood behind his former boss’s desk, in the middle of two separate phone conversations. He alternated between the landline and a cell phone as he desperately tried to rally every remaining friend they had in what was left of the Palugan government.

It had been four minutes since Jericho had ended the call with Buchanan. He and Ramirez stood facing each other, arms folded, wearing serious and focused expressions. With them, anxiously awaiting instructions, were the highest-ranking soldiers and operatives both men had on site.

“What you’re suggesting is risky, Mr. Stone,” said Ramirez. He checked his watch. “We now have seven minutes until the general’s deadline expires. If we’re not in position when that happens, both our forces inside the palace will be slaughtered.”

Jericho nodded. “I understand that, Colonel. But you know as well as I do—probably better than I do—that in combat, it only takes a few seconds to make a difference. We have seven minutes. In five, my operatives would’ve reclaimed half your country for you. Trust me.”

Ramirez held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. Do what you have to do. But I’m getting my men into position right now.” He turned to the sergeant standing beside them. “I want men stationed on the balconies along the south and east walls. In cover and ready. Get another squad into position in the courtyard. If the general’s forces breach the gate, their priority will be getting inside the palace, so concentrate on securing the most direct path to the entrance. Nobody moves until I give the order.”

The sergeant nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He quickly saluted and left.

Jericho turned to his man, who was looking at him expectantly. “Round up every one of our guys inside the palace. You support the colonel’s men with whatever they need. I want one of ours for every three of theirs in every position. I’ll be right behind you.”

The operative nodded and left.

He turned back to Ramirez and smiled. “Well, you’re in the shit now, soldier.”

“You have five minutes, Mr. Stone,” he replied. “Make them count.”

He nodded courteously and marched out of the room. Jericho glanced over at Montez. He saw the film of sweat on his brow and the redness in his face. He looked as if he were about to have a heart attack.

Jericho activated his comms unit and switched it onto all channels, so every GlobaTech operative in Paluga would hear him. He took a deep breath. The significance of the moment wasn’t lost on him. He knew his next words were likely to be the most important he would ever speak.

He began pacing around the room, thinking what to say. Then he placed a hand to his chest and pressed the button on the wire beneath his shirt to open a channel.

“Attention GlobaTech personnel. This is Jericho Stone. In five minutes, the presidential palace in Maville will fall under siege to General Guerrero and his men. Your orders so far have been to stand down, cooperate with the Palugan military, and not to engage under any circumstances. The volatile politics in this country and the bullshit politics back home have meant our hands are tied, which puts our own lives in danger. I know you’re scared. I know you’re angry. But the citizens of this country are also afraid. Their