The Bear and the Dragon - Tom Clancy [517]
Throughout the ship, the electronic gonging started, followed by a human voice: "General Quarters—General Quarters—all hands man your battle stations."
Gregory was in CIC, running another simulation. "What's that mean?"
Senior Chief Leek shook his head. "Sir, that means something ain't no simulation no more." Battle stations alongside the fucking pier? "Okay, people, let's start lighting it all up!" he ordered his sailors.
The regular presidential helicopter muttered down on the South Lawn, and the Secret Service agent at the door turned and yelled: "COME ON!"
Cathy turned. "Jack, you coming with us?"
"No, Cath, I have to go to Kneecap. Now, get along. I'll see you later tonight, okay?" He gave her a kiss, and all the kids got a hug, except for Kyle, whom the President took from Kelley's arms for a quick hold before giving him back. "Take care of him," he told the agent. "Yes, sir. Good luck." Ryan watched his family run up the steps into the chopper, and the Sikorsky lurched off before they could have had a chance to sit and strap down.
Then another Marine helicopter appeared, this one with Colonel Dan Malloy at the controls. This one was a VH-60, whose doors slid open. Ryan walked quickly to it, with Andrea Price-O'Day at his side. They sat and strapped down before it lumbered back into the air.
"What about everybody else?" Ryan asked.
"There's a shelter under the East Wing for some … " she said. Then her voice trailed off and she shrugged.
"Oh, shit, what about everybody else?" Ryan demanded.
"Sir, I have to look after you."
" But—what—"
Then Special Agent Price-O'Day started retching. Ryan saw and pulled out a barf bag, one with a very nice Presidential logo printed on it, and handed it to her. They were over the Mall now, just passing the George Washington Monument. Off to the right was southwest Washington, filled with the working- and middle-class homes of regular people who drove cabs or cleaned up offices, tens of thousands of them … there were people visible in the Mall, on the grass, just enjoying a walk in the falling darkness, just being people …
And you just left behind a hundred or so. Maybe twenty will fit in the shelter under the East Wing … what about the rest, the ones who make your bed and fold your socks and shine your shoes and serve dinner and pick up after the kids—what about them, Jack? A small voice asked. Who flies them off to safety?
He turned his head to see the Washington Monument, and beyond that the reflecting pool and the Lincoln Memorial. He was in the same line as those men, in the city named for one, and saved in time of war by another … and he was running away from danger … the Capital Building, home of the Congress. The light was on atop the dome. Congress was in session, doing the country's work, or trying to, as they did … but he was running away … eastern Washington, mainly black, working-class people who did the menial jobs for the most part, and had hopes to send their kids to college so that they could make out a little better than their parents had … eating their dinner, watching TV, maybe going out to a movie tonight or just sitting on their porches and shooting the bull with their neighbors—
—Ryan's head turned again, and he saw the two gray shapes at the Navy Yard, one familiar, one not, because Tony Bretano had—
Ryan flipped the belt buckle in his lap and lurched forward, knocking into the Marine sergeant in the jump seat. Colonel Malloy was in the right-front seat, doing his job, flying the chopper. Ryan grabbed his left shoulder. The head came around.
"Yes, sir, what is it?"
"See that cruiser down there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Land on it."
"Sir, I—"
"Land on it, that's an order!" Ryan shouted at him.
"Aye aye," Malloy said like a good Marine.
The Blackhawk turned, arcing down the Anacostia River, and flaring as Malloy judged the wind. The Marine hesitated, looking back one more time. Ryan insistently jerked his hand at the ship.
The Blackhawk approached cautiously.
"What are you doing?" Andrea demanded.
"I'm getting