On Michelle’s screen a text from Edgar popped up. Her eyes widened and her gut clenched.
“Michelle?” said Sean.
“Oh, shit!” exclaimed Michelle.
“What is it?” said Cole.
“Michelle, are you okay?” said Sean.
Michelle turned to the president. “We have to get—”
She never got a chance to finish.
CHAPTER
78
THE STEERING WHEEL OF THE Beast was ripped out of the driver’s hands and cut a sharp turn to the left. At the same time the gas pedal hit the floor and the sixteen-thousand-pound vehicle accelerated and hit the bridge’s stone balustrade at close to its maximum speed. The stone railings were strong, but they were never designed to stop a car that heavy going that fast. The front end of the Beast burst through the stone and its front wheels cleared the pavement. The rear wheels kept spinning, retained their traction, and with another burst of power the Beast cleared the bridge entirely and was suspended in midair for a moment. Then its nose pointed downward, and that was the direction it headed. It hit the water a few seconds later. The rear end came down and the car settled on the surface of the Potomac.
The Beast could do many impressive things. Floating was not among them. It quickly sank.
“Michelle!” Sean yelled into the phone. There was no response.
He turned to Wingo. “Something is very wrong. She’s with the president and—” His phone buzzed. It was another call coming in. It was Edgar.
“Edgar, what is going on?”
“I just texted Michelle,” he said. “She’s with the president.”
“I know that. She called me. But then something happened. I can’t get through to her.” Edgar said nothing. “Edgar, are you there?”
When Edgar next spoke, his voice was strained. “Sean, I just got a news break on my screen.”
“What is it?” Sean said, his heart pounding.
“The presidential limo just ran off the Memorial Bridge and plunged into the Potomac.”
“What? How?”
“That’s what I just texted her about.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The satellite, Sean. They hacked the satellite that the presidential limo uses for navigation and communication. It’s too complicated to explain how they did it.”
“Okay, they hacked it, so what?”
“The limo has over thirty million lines of code, Sean. The computers run everything on that vehicle. You hack the brain—”
Sean finished for him. “You control the car,” he said dully.
“Yes. Speed. Steering. Brakes. Everything.”
“Grant,” said Sean looking at Wingo. “That son of a bitch just got his revenge on a president who had absolutely nothing to do with his parents’ deaths.” He added in a shaky voice, “And Michelle is with him.”
Edgar said, “What are you going to do?”
Sean dropped the phone, punched the gas, and the car flew forward.