Milwaukee Deep

Harding walked down the west wing corridor towards the President’s main sleeping quarters. As he followed the hallway, to the right he spotted the two agents standing guard outside Stoker’s master bedroom.

“Gentlemen, Agent Tom Harding, CIA,” he said as he approached, “I have permission from Mr Crane to enter the room an-”

As he spoke Harding pulled out his weapon and aimed it at the agents

“Okay guys, nice and slowly pull out your weapons, throw them on the floor and unlock the President’s door.”

The two agents looked across at each other. As the one closest to Harding slowly reached for his weapon, clearly showing his assailant that he was cooperating, the other quickly reached under his coat...

Harding instinctively reacted to the sudden movement, firing three shots, one hitting the first guard directly in the head, the other two slamming into the chest of the other agent.

“Damn it!”

Harding moved fast, he rushed over to the bodies and began patting them down – his priority; the key he knew would be needed to unlock the President’s door. With a quick check of the hallway for any movement, Harding found what he was looking for.

He unlocked the door and entered the President’s bedroom.

“Mr President, come with me, we’ve got to go,” Harding said, his voice sharp, his tone direct.

“Harding?”

“Sir, we’ve got no time, they’ll be here soon.”

“What have you done?”

“I’m getting you out of here, Mr President. Come on.”

Stoker followed Harding into the hallway.

“Quick, this way.”

Harding led the President towards the main dining room.

“Sir, does the dining room lead us out and into the grounds?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Stoker, “why?”

“We’re safer in the open -.“

Harding turned the corner and faced three Secret Service agents standing in the foyer that led to the dining area – they saw Harding.

“Hold it! Freeze!” they called out.

Harding raised his weapon and fired off three shots, one hitting an agent in the chest, the other two missing their targets.

“DOWN!”

Harding pushed the President back behind the wall - the two remaining agents opened fire.

“Fuck! This is not what we needed!”

Shots rang out.

Harding ducked as chips of plaster sprayed around him.

“Get back!”

Harding blindly fired his weapon around the corner – the magazine emptied in seconds.

“Shit!”

He slammed another magazine into place.

“Sir, we can’t stay here much longer,” Harding yelled back over the sound of returned fire, “we’re sitting ducks!”

Harding looked about himself. He could see a door only a few yards down the hall.

“Follow me!” he commanded.

Stoker with his head down scurried to the door immediately behind Tom.

As both men entered the room, Harding looked around, surveying his position.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea”

“NOW WHAT!” screamed Stoker?

“Get in the bath tub and stay there! Crouch down and try to stay out of sight!”

Harding held his breath and slowly unlocked the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Just stay down, Sir!”

Harding opened the door slowly and peered through the crack.

From what he could see no one was there.

With his back perched up against the wall, Harding made his way back towards the corner of the hallway.

There was silence.

Harding looked down at his watch – another twenty seconds and back up would be on him.

“Shit!”

Again he extended his arm out and began firing – the bullets piercing the wall behind the agents.

He clipped in another magazine and instantly fell to the floor.

The return fire came back like clockwork – high and above where Harding lay.

He rolled out into the open – into the middle of the hallway.

With his aim right, Harding fired his weapon, this time hitting the two agents, one in the groin, the other in the lower stomach – neither of them able to react quickly enough to realign their shots towards the floor.

Harding jumped to his feet and ran back towards the bathroom and President Stoker.

“Sir, come on we’ve got to go - there isn’t much time!”

Stoker jumped up out of the bath tub and followed Harding out of the room and down the hallway away from the dining room foyer.

“What about the dining room?” asked the President.

“There’s no chance now.”

As both men again approached the President’s master bedroom, Stoker called out to Harding.

“Tom, turn right here, we can gain access to the grounds via the -.”

Harding and the President froze.

There stood six more agents, all of them no more than ten yards away.

They all had their weapons drawn – and had Harding and the President in their sights.