out of the way. The press, as usual, had positioned themselves at terrible angles. Some of them stood in the line of fire, oblivious to the guns pointed at their backs.
Smith and Jackie jogged over to us, arriving at the same time. Smith tried to cover the stunned look on his face when he saw me lying there, but it slipped through for a split second.
"Mr. Benson, your presence is quite a surprise. The police are going to be very pleased to see you."
"You know this man?" Thomas asked him.
"Enforcer is ready for pick up," one of the agents said into his radio. Enforcer must have been the Secret Service call sign for the president, which I found laughable. By the looks of him, he couldn't enforce his own bladder.
The circling aircraft started its descent, intending to land in the field beside us.
"Mr. Benson has been working with Murdock in an attempt—" the lying bastard started to say. I couldn't make out anything else over the roar of the helicopter's rotors.
Everyone around me tensed up at the same time. The helo, which was about to land, began climbing into the air. The agent who had his knee driven into Murdock's back stepped away and stood at attention. Murdock pushed himself off the ground and turned to face us, his body convulsing with laughter.
The helicopter climbed a few hundred feet and then banked to its right at an incredible angle, its speed increasing.
Debris from the rotor spiraled away as Marine One crashed into the Washington Monument.
Chapter 24
The body of the chopper plummeted to the earth with fire and smoking trailing it. Its tail, severed during the impact, landed on the public address system used for the president's speech. Sparks showered the surrounding area as the equipment shorted out. Above the tumbling wreckage, the charring spot of the collision burned from spilled fuel. Thousands of blinding flashes encompassed the field as photographers snapped what would become iconic pictures of the Washington Monument burning.
The photo frenzy following the crash was short-lived as police officers began executing each other.
Many of them were within a hundred feet of us – they were the first ones to open fire on other lawmen. When one of the shooters was incapacitated, Murdock would release his control of him and move on to the next. His influence jumped from cop to cop, creating a wave of violence that started behind me and moved around us counterclockwise.
"Enough! Everyone you're after is right here, not out there!" I had trouble hearing my own voice over the rattle of gunfire.
The shots halted. Those who weren't wounded began running back to the safety of the buildings and trees, dragging their injured comrades with them.
"You're right. Sometimes I get a little overzealous. It happens when you love what you do."
He walked over to where Smith stood, rooted to the ground with his eyes watching Murdock's every move.
"You're so predictable. I knew you were using me from the moment I escaped at the funeral. You wanted me alive and that meant you would try and hit me with that wonderful little drug of yours. That's why I dosed myself with naloxone, since it nullifies the effects of opiates. You were out of my range when you sat in the SUV over there, so I had to play along to get you a little closer."
I should have known something was wrong when our mental connection hadn't broken. Lieutenant Columbo I am not.
Jackie walked over, stopping in Smith's field of vision.
"It's a hopeless feeling, isn't it? Knowing you're about to die and there's nothing you can do about."
Jackie, his eyes locked on Smith's, pulled a pistol out of his shoulder holster and held it to his temple.
"Say goodbye to your flunky."
Fragments of Jackie's skull and brain matter landed on the front of Smith's suit.
Murdock turned and looked at President Thomas. "Don't worry, you haven't slipped my mind. Your buffoonery has led to your death. I might not have escaped that horrid country if you hadn't sent an
Smith and Jackie jogged over to us, arriving at the same time. Smith tried to cover the stunned look on his face when he saw me lying there, but it slipped through for a split second.
"Mr. Benson, your presence is quite a surprise. The police are going to be very pleased to see you."
"You know this man?" Thomas asked him.
"Enforcer is ready for pick up," one of the agents said into his radio. Enforcer must have been the Secret Service call sign for the president, which I found laughable. By the looks of him, he couldn't enforce his own bladder.
The circling aircraft started its descent, intending to land in the field beside us.
"Mr. Benson has been working with Murdock in an attempt—" the lying bastard started to say. I couldn't make out anything else over the roar of the helicopter's rotors.
Everyone around me tensed up at the same time. The helo, which was about to land, began climbing into the air. The agent who had his knee driven into Murdock's back stepped away and stood at attention. Murdock pushed himself off the ground and turned to face us, his body convulsing with laughter.
The helicopter climbed a few hundred feet and then banked to its right at an incredible angle, its speed increasing.
Debris from the rotor spiraled away as Marine One crashed into the Washington Monument.
Chapter 24
The body of the chopper plummeted to the earth with fire and smoking trailing it. Its tail, severed during the impact, landed on the public address system used for the president's speech. Sparks showered the surrounding area as the equipment shorted out. Above the tumbling wreckage, the charring spot of the collision burned from spilled fuel. Thousands of blinding flashes encompassed the field as photographers snapped what would become iconic pictures of the Washington Monument burning.
The photo frenzy following the crash was short-lived as police officers began executing each other.
Many of them were within a hundred feet of us – they were the first ones to open fire on other lawmen. When one of the shooters was incapacitated, Murdock would release his control of him and move on to the next. His influence jumped from cop to cop, creating a wave of violence that started behind me and moved around us counterclockwise.
"Enough! Everyone you're after is right here, not out there!" I had trouble hearing my own voice over the rattle of gunfire.
The shots halted. Those who weren't wounded began running back to the safety of the buildings and trees, dragging their injured comrades with them.
"You're right. Sometimes I get a little overzealous. It happens when you love what you do."
He walked over to where Smith stood, rooted to the ground with his eyes watching Murdock's every move.
"You're so predictable. I knew you were using me from the moment I escaped at the funeral. You wanted me alive and that meant you would try and hit me with that wonderful little drug of yours. That's why I dosed myself with naloxone, since it nullifies the effects of opiates. You were out of my range when you sat in the SUV over there, so I had to play along to get you a little closer."
I should have known something was wrong when our mental connection hadn't broken. Lieutenant Columbo I am not.
Jackie walked over, stopping in Smith's field of vision.
"It's a hopeless feeling, isn't it? Knowing you're about to die and there's nothing you can do about."
Jackie, his eyes locked on Smith's, pulled a pistol out of his shoulder holster and held it to his temple.
"Say goodbye to your flunky."
Fragments of Jackie's skull and brain matter landed on the front of Smith's suit.
Murdock turned and looked at President Thomas. "Don't worry, you haven't slipped my mind. Your buffoonery has led to your death. I might not have escaped that horrid country if you hadn't sent an
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