Read Game of Drones for Free Online

terrorists to set up a launch base.
    “All right,” he said, composing himself. “If they're going to use these things against us, they need to set up a launch field, right?"
    He continued amidst the chorus of affirmative monosyllables. "But if these robot planes have a max distance of 460 miles, then I want every law enforcement agency within a radius of one thousand miles to find those trucks.”
    “The trucks involved in the theft of the drones, Mr. President, have already been found abandoned about fifteen miles north of D.C.”
    “They offer any clues?"
    "Not so far. Forensics teams are working on them."
    "I want every vehicle within the search radius capable of transporting a single one of those drones searched,” he went on. “I want these things found long before they become airborne and maneuverable. Is that understood?”
    Murmurs of agreement filled the room.
    “In the meantime,” he continued, “I’ll need to be moved to a secure location. Camp David is obviously out.”
    “Then may I suggest Raven Rock?” said Chief Advisor Simon Davis. Raven Rock, also called the Raven Rock Military Complex or Site R, is a government facility located on a mountain in Pennsylvania which serves as the Alternate National Military Command Center during a national crisis. The facility runs more than thirty-eight communications systems that are linked to the Defense Information Systems Agency computer, and provides services to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the National Command Authority, the U.S. Department of Defense, and the Office of the Secretary of Defense. It is also sometimes referred to as the Underground Pentagon.
    President Carmichael nodded. “Agreed. We can manage everything from Raven Rock,” he said. “Get Marine One ready.”
    “Yes, Mr. President.”
    “And notify the Director of the FBI,” he added. “This matter comes under his jurisdiction as well. As far as I’m concerned, he needs to coordinate all field offices from here to California. And I want all social media monitored for insurrectionist chatter. I'm tired of being embarrassed by the media for missing some damn tweet --or whatever the hell people use these days--that was out there for the whole world to see. Are we clear?”
    “That monitoring is underway as we speak, Mr. President.”
    “Very good.” Standing with an appearance that held all the looseness of a rubber mask, the man clearly draining, he added, “Now is the time to test our mettle as a nation facing adversity. Find . . . those . . . people !”
    He turned and looked out the window with his hands clasped behind his back, knowing that a hideous challenge awaited him beyond those glass panes. A challenge that would make or break his Presidency, and would likely come to define it.
    When the room had cleared, President Carmichael felt a creeping chill crawl up his spine and settle at the base of his neck.
    War had come to his front yard.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Approximately 90 Miles Northwest of Washington D.C
0847 Hours
    Aasif al-Shazad wasted no time at all. After driving north for fifteen miles, he abandoned the military vehicles for three 18-wheelers fully capable of transporting all of the appropriated hardware. On the map, the road leading to the secured location resembled a hook-like thread, barely visible, which was ideal.
    They had traveled for as long as they could under the cover of darkness, long before the White House could initiate satellite and sky-surveillance monitoring. Before dawn broke they had reached their destination, an old wartime bunker with an adjacent 300-foot road that had cracked over time as weeds surfaced through the fissures along the pavement. That strip, however, acted as the perfect lift-off point for the drones.
    To disguise the location from overhead surveillance, Shazad had draped camouflaged canopies over three-quarters of the runway’s length, twenty feet above the ground. They could launch the drones from beneath the canopies, where they would