Execute

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LCDR Josh Higgins was walking past the Oval Office when he heard the President's administrative assistant call out to him, "Josh, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, what is it, Ma'am?"

"Don't you have a brother in the Army, some kind of explosives expert?"

"Yes, he's out at Kirtland, in New Mexico, Mrs. Goings¹."

"Do you have a number for him?"

Higgins was puzzled, "Sure." He pulled his phone out, found his brother's number, then jotted it down on a slip of paper and handed it to Mrs. Goings.

"Thanks, Josh."

"Sure, Ma'am, no problem."

The President was massaging his forehead, wondering why he had ever left the real world to get into politics. He dropped his hand to his desk when he heard his admin come in.

"What is it, Nancy?"

"Well, Sir, I'm no expert but this thing you're dealing with in France, it's a bomb, a possibly broken nuclear bomb, right?"

Nakagawa understood that Mrs. Goings knew a lot more than she let on, she heard things around the Oval Office that would no doubt drive one of his security people crazy, but she was a valued asset. She'd been superb when he'd been the Secretary of the Interior, she was certainly in her element now. He sat up.

"Yeah, you have some thoughts on the issue?"

"Not exactly, but the French want to encase it in concrete, like the Russians did with their reactor at Chernobyl, right? I saw the HBO mini-series on that, a nasty business."

"Yeah, I saw it too, but ..."

"This is a bomb, and not a big one. Did you know that we have an Army unit that specializes in just this sort of thing? Josh Higgins' brother is assigned to them. I just read an article about them online a few days ago."

"Doing your own research, Nancy?"

She smiled.

Nakagawa realized that without a network of people to work on things, there were a lot of things in government that just didn't get done. He felt lucky to be surrounded by capable people who didn't mind speaking up when they had something to offer.

"Do you have any more ..."

"They're the 21st Ordnance Company, out of Kirtland. LCDR Higgins' brother's name is Will, he's a Sergeant First Class." She handed the President a slip of paper, "I took the liberty of setting up a classified phonecon for you with his unit in one hour."

Nakagawa glanced at the slip of paper, it said, "I deserve a raise." He smiled.

"Yes, you do."

Captain Mark Radcliff, the Blackjacks' commanding officer, nodded as the President explained the situation outside of Marseille. He was wondering why the French military hadn't thought of this, surely they had Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) experts. He brought that up.

"They do, Captain, I asked President Beaugendre about that, they're not really certified for this particular task."

"Well, it is pretty specialized knowledge, Sir. But disposing of this thing seems right up our alley. Risky, but doable. It's what we've trained for."

"How soon can you be wheels up once I get the okay from the French?" Nakagawa asked.

"We're loading our gear onto a C-17 right now, Sir. We can be wheels up in ..."

The President heard bits of a conversation in the background.

"30 minutes, Sir."

"Good, I'll have the necessary orders cut. Once you're outbound we'll send you whether it's a go or a no go."

"Roger that, Mr. President."

The Ministère des Armées, François Vandamme, wasn't happy with the idea of an American team coming in to do the job his own forces should be able to deal with. But it was something that needed doing, he also realized that this might help get him the budget he needed to upgrade the French military's capabilities in that area. Perhaps a few other things as well.

When Général Malet finished complaining that he'd mentioned this many times before and that it was a bit late to ask the French Army to back up the Americans with something they should be able to handle themselves, Vandamme spoke, "My dear Théo, I know, I know, but for the moment we need to deal with this device. We don't have the capability at the moment, we will in the future. I need your very best EOD man on scene when the Americans arrive. Is that clear?"

There was a pause on the line, Général Malet knew that his boss had a vast temper, not much different from his famous ancestor³ so he simply responded, "Oui, Ministre, Colonel Dupont will be in Marseille as soon as I can get him on a plane."

"Very good. Merci, Théo." Vandamme severed the connection then had his secretary arrange for a meeting with the President. Might as well make his case for a bigger budget now, while the government had this hanging over them.

Loshchilov had eyes on the chateau, none of the cabal had left. A delivery truck had arrived in the late morning and from what he could see, someone inside was planning a celebration. He looked over at Koltsov and shrugged, they would see how much those bastards got to celebrate.

At that moment their "wives," Savelievna, and Borisovna, were in town preparing to attend the party. The Russian consul, with many contacts in the restaurant trade in Zürich, had arranged to have them added as staff to the catering business. The owner of which was deeply in debt to the Russian mob.

As he watched, another car pulled up, then drove off, no doubt a local car service from the airport. Loshchilov smiled, "Excellent, Kliment Ilyich Kargin has arrived, let the party begin."

Loshchilov slid back down the little hummock and said to Koltsov, "Things are moving along nicely, the catering staff has arrived, the regular staff, all three of them, just left. We needn't worry about harming any Swiss nationals tonight. And the cherry on top, Kargin just arrived as well, the gang's all here."

"What about the caterer himself?"

"He's actually German, from Bavaria. As are the two male wait staff. Petty criminals themselves I've been given to understand."

Koltsov grinned, "So no innocents will be involved?"

Loshchilov shuddered, Koltsov's grin had been the last thing many had seen before dying violently.

"So,when is this f**king party supposed to start?" Kliment Ilyich Kargin asked with a snarl. His flight from Moscow had run late, his own aircraft was in the hangar awaiting a new engine, so he had flown commercial. First class, but on Aeroflot that was hardly something to brag about. He'd also consumed far too much vodka on the flight.

Ruben Klerk rubbed his hands nervously, "10:00 PM, Herr Kargin. Can I show you to your quarters so that you might freshen up?"

Kargin swayed, looked at his watch, it was only 6:32 PM, "Yes, move it, I can take a nap after I shower."

Klerk stood there for a moment, he, as a multimillionaire, was not used to being ordered about, but this drunken Russian scared him.

"Certainly, follow me."

In the main subterranean conference room, Johann Obrecht, Rafael de Lima, Pierre Mallet, Elihu Baum, Tahara Yoshimatsu, and Aziz Haghighi were meeting. They were in a very good mood, their source in the DGSE had informed them that their "package" had arrived in Paris. It would be emplaced that very evening just down the street from Sainte-Chapelle, not far from Notre-Dame on the Île de la Cité, the very heart of Paris.

Obrecht's expert, who was in Paris to prepare the device, had assured him that everything within the Boulevard Périphérique would be leveled. Essentially, the City of Light would be destroyed, the dream of his predecessors would be made real. He had no doubt that had the Führer still been alive, he would have received the Grand Cross of the Iron Cross for this exploit. It made him shiver with pride.

Everyone in the room was already a bit tipsy, they'd been imbibing since shortly before three in the afternoon. The only one there with any regret in his heart was Elihu Baum. He despised Obrecht and Haghighi, but he lusted for power. Obrecht could make that happen. For now he would stomach his "colleagues" as best he could, the rewards would be well worth it.

Obrecht's expert had been tortured, then shot once his interrogators had drained him of useful information. He had been promised amnesty if he made the call to tell Obrecht that everything was in place.

"Yes Sir, the sun will rise over the Champs Elysée very early tomorrow. It should be spectacular."

After that, much to the man's dismay, the torment began. When his boss was celebrating in his underground conference room after being told of Kargin's arrival, the French took him to the lower part of the building and shot him. His corpse was already ashes in a nearby crematoria when Obrecht and his minions sat down to dinner.

The device itself was still outside Marseille, a special American Army unit was supposed to deal with that once they arrived. The head of the DGSE, Philippe Berthelot, had discovered the traitor on his staff some months ago. They had let the man inform on them to the monsters in Zürich, as he thought of them, while closely monitoring his activities.

Berthelot sighed as he sipped his cognac, the traitor had gone "swimming in the Seine" with a nine-millimeter slug in the back of his neck, Obrecht's expert had been tortured to within an inch of his life, then been shot and his body disposed of in the river. Berthelot didn't consider himself to be a cruel or a violent man, but any threat to his beloved France and he would countenance the deaths of thousands. If only he could be in at the kill in Zürich, then he could die a happy man.

Obrecht raised his glass to propose a toast to the men around the table, as the room got quiet and all eyes turned to him, there was a loud crash outside, in the near distance. He turned to yell at his bodyguard to go investigate, when he remembered the man was not on site, for tonight was to be unsullied by hired help and minions.

"Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen. Let me go see what that was. There have been some minor rockfalls in the vicinity as things begin to freeze, probably nothing, but it pays to be cautious."

"I'll go with you, Johann, I need to go to the loo anyway." Kargin didn't want Obrecht out of his sight for a minute. He sensed that his hit team was close by, he paid Loshchilov a lot of money, tonight he expected his return on investment, Obrecht dead in a "terrorist attack," after which he would take control of the cabal.

The others were tipsy on fine wine and cognac, he was drunk with power.

Loshchilov keyed his mic, "Iosif Semyonovich, kill the power, now!"

Before he could do so, he was startled by a loud crash from just down the valley. Koltsov turned in that direction and muttered to himself, "Huh, rockslide, that's going to garner some attention."

He saw the outside lights of the chateau come on and two figures stepped into the light, Kargin and Obrecht. "Very nice."

At that point, Koltsov pushed a button which detonated a small charge on the power lines leading up to the chateau. The place went dark.

Koltsov waited, he heard the growl of the chateau's emergency generator starting, it turned over once, twice, then stopped. The chateau remained as dark as the grave.

In his earpiece he heard Loshchilov's voice, "Vypolnyat'!⁴"

¹ Being a huge fan of Tom Clancy, I didn't realize back when I named the President's administrative assistant "Nancy" that that was the same first name as Admiral Greer's, and later Jack Ryan's, admin at CIA. Tuna pointed that out. As her name was Nancy Cummings, in my world, Nakagawa's admin is named Nancy Goings. Personal tidbit - on my high school football team I had two teammates, one named Cummings, the other Goings. I think I was the only one who found that amusing.

² 21st Ordnance Company (EOD WMD) “Blackjacks." You can read about them here.

³ General Dominique-Joseph René Vandamme, one of Napoléon's generals. Reportedly a brutal and violent soldier, renowned for insubordination and looting, Napoléon is said to have told him, "If I had two of you, the only solution would be to have one hang the other". Napoleon later also commented: "If I were to launch a campaign against Lucifer in Hell, Vandamme would be at my back." Source

⁴ Execute! (Russian - Выполнять!)