Her Secret Service (Jane Roe 1), Jason Letts [story reading .txt] 📗

Taking a deep breath, Jane stood in awe at the scene unfolding before her. This was the part that always made her the proudest when it came to working with the Secret Service, the part that she would miss the most. Everyone here was doing hero’s work to facilitate the heroes on the ground who were rushing to the scene to potentially put their lives on the line.

Dots began to appear on the map, getting closer and converging on the pickup truck’s central point from all directions. There were more Secret Service agents arriving in the vicinity, but the FBI had units coming too, as did the local police. All of them would be in protective battle-dress uniform, known as BDU’s, and all of them had a specific job to do in relation to facing this threat that would minimize the risk and keep each other as safe as possible.

Snipers were getting to the rooftops of nearby buildings. Would Oliver Ip happen to notice one if leaned toward the window and looked up? A van with a SWAT team got into position across the small park that Ip had parked beside. The police were setting up roadblocks to prevent traffic from coming through on either side. How long would it take before he realized that cars were no longer passing by and that all of the pedestrians had vanished?

And when he comprehended that, the thing that made Jane clench her fist was whether he would go quietly and give himself up or start causing trouble.

“We’ve got a read on the plates. Eric Hanlahan of Slanesville, West Virginia. The FBI has a team en route now,” an agent said from one of the terminals.

Jane glanced at Nathan, wondering if he was feeling as apprehensive as she was. Considering the audacious scheme Oliver had put together in his attempt to bomb the president, taking him into custody would be only the first step in a long journey to understanding who he was and what he had done. People would be studying this for years to come, and his name very well may get etched into Secret Service history along with other would-be assassins.

“We’re ready to evacuate the protectee through a rear exit and into a car on the opposite side of the block. Let’s move,” Watch Commander Winger said.

While the agents assigned to Bethany Morrin’s detail removed her from the area, Jane kept her eyes on the feed of the pickup truck and continued to wonder what was going through Oliver Ip’s mind. He had to know by now that he was isolated, surrounded, and that whatever he was plotting had failed absolutely. Each second she expected the truck to rumble to life and take off, but it didn’t happen.

From the vantage point of the camera, she could only faintly see some of the outline of his head over the driver’s seat. He didn’t appear to be moving or doing anything. That wouldn’t last for long though, as a big dot representing a hulking armored BearCat began to roll down the street, coming up behind him.

The risk of explosives was driving the response; they were using the BearCat to get close without leaving anyone physically exposed. At this point guns were trained on the pickup from all directions, Bethany Morrin was speeding away from the scene in a Secret Service vehicle, and they were about to make contact with Oliver Ip, who had to know that his time was running out.

The radio they had in the Live Monitoring Station picked up the BearCat’s loudspeaker.

“We have you surrounded. Exit the vehicle and put your hands on your head!”

Jane swallowed, refusing to blink as she tried to see how Ip would respond. All of the articles he’d written, the fake accounts, the willingness to let his innocent coworkers take the blame, it was all coming down to this. If Ip didn’t cooperate this was going to get ugly fast.

The muffled pop that came over the radio could’ve been anything, but with Jane’s eyes fixed on Ip’s head, which had finally shifted and was lolling to the side, she knew exactly what it was. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands again.

“Shot fired! Shot fired!”

But instead of returning fire, an agent in the BearCat threw open the door and closed the gap to the pickup truck. The agents all over were drawing closer, aware that the situation had changed but that the risk of explosives was still present.

The agent pulled open the pickup’s driver’s side door, and Jane didn’t at all envy what he had to be looking at.

“Suspect shot himself from under the chin and straight through the vehicle’s roof. DOA,” he said.

Jane took another breath. She was surprised at the outcome, relieved that none of the agents or the protectee had gotten hurt, but also regretful that they hadn’t been able to take Oliver Ip into custody to make him face the consequences for his actions. It was the coward’s way out.

As they determined that there was no risk of a bomb being in the truck, other agents and law enforcement officers poured into the area. The tension had lifted, but there was still so much work to be done. After being in her job for two years, Jane knew it was naive to wish none of this had happened in the first place—the inevitability of threats and attacks were why their jobs were necessary—but the drive to be smarter, faster, and more efficient took over. Incidents like these turned into case studies that turned into newer, better tools for them to keep their protectees safe.

Nathan released a deep sigh.

“Now that one’s done, I can go back to focusing on the other ninety-nine threats the president is facing,” he said wistfully. It was a good reminder that anything they were facing could come to a head any time, and it took a tremendous amount of effort to