Visit Denver's ADX Supermax Prison in "Forty Days to Armageddon"
A Political Thriller by RJ
Visit Beautiful Denver
Visit beautiful Denver in this snippet pulled from the political thriller, “Forty Days to Armageddon.” Watchdogg, ( Robinson) the advisor to the president, visited the president of Israel in order to pass a secret directive. It was hoped that President Landenberger would allow the transfer of a cybercriminal from ADX supermax prison to Israel. It was planned that he could be used to interrupt the computers that controlled the centrifuges that were busy producing uranium for Iran’s nuclear bombs. Larry Deshano, the Director of the CIA, Melissa Farnsworth, Undersecretary of State for Political Affairs, and Watchdogg direct the transfer from the prison to the Denver airport. Fegan is Watchdogg’s close associate and rides along.
April 11— 8:00 P.M The ADX Florence, Florence, Colorado
Larry Deshano wasn’t taking chances with the most dangerous criminal in the world.
The route was laid out from the ADX supermax prison, often referred to as the “Alcatraz of the Rockies” to Denver International, some 123 miles north. He had decided too much could happen in a helicopter and decided to go with a military convoy on route.
Chris LE Blanc, often called “The Wizard” was housed with the most notorious criminals of the decade that included racketeer bosses, unibombers, serial killers, Neo-Nazi fanatics and assorted terrorists. Twenty-three percent had killed inmates in other prisons and were deemed too dangerous to be anywhere else. Prisoners lived in solitary confinement in a concrete 7’ X 12’ cell and were let out an hour a day to exercise alone in a concrete pool-like structure. The guards were their only human contact.
Deshano called in a favor from Robinson and Fegan and asked the pair to take part in the planning and the transfer of LE Blanc. Nearly six hundred agents were posted along the highway armed with 51mm M40 standard issue sniper rifles. Two dozen CIA would move along the highway in unmarked cars. Another dozen armored trucks ran the front and rear guard for the convoy. A trio of Mi-24 choppers would hover directly over the convoy as it moved down the road
Desahno ran over the plan with Robinson and Farnsworth as they waited for LE Blanc to be delivered to the compound within the gates. “Our men will not carry any cell phones or electronic gadgets. We stripped the electronics from the trucks including the radios.”
Farnsworth wondered, “This seems like overkill to me.” She peered over her Maui Jim Stingrays at the twelve-foot wall strung with barbwire. “Are you sure all this is necessary?”
“He is dangerous beyond your wildest imagination—a living breathing WMD that can wipe out the communications in a nation in five minutes. He could turn an electronic toy into a satellite uplink device then use it to grab a hold of the internet and infect it with a virus that would spread worldwide in seconds.”
Robinson added, “We are concerned that his gang of henchmen will try and grab him before we reach Denver International.”
“They are one tough bunch,” said Fegan while he checked his Helwan 9mm and returned it to his holster.
Farnsworth brought out a stick of gum and offered it to the others. “What’s going to keep him in the truck? He could overpower the guards and jump out the back. I know this is a dumb question.” She popped a stick of pink gum into her mouth.
Deshano opened the back of the armored truck and showed her a steel box about the size of a coffin. “He’s going to ride in here like catfish in a pail. We’ve got six locks on it and an oxygen tank so he can breathe while he is in there. He’ll stay in it until he reaches a supermax prison in Jerusalem.”
“I can see you have this figured out.”
Armed guards appeared with LE Blanc walking across the courtyard. “You’ll never make it to Denver,” he sneered.
“We’ll see about that,” Deshano retorted as his agents dropped the box to the pavement as though it contained cheap trinkets.
“What’s this?” He pointed to the coffin-like container.
“It’s a little insurance policy. You are our special guest….”
“You can’t put me in there! It’s inhuman. It’s a violation of my constitutional rights.” The prison guards placed him kicking and screaming into the box and secured the locks. “I’ll have my lawyers all over you for this,” said the muffled voice. The box was loaded into the back of the truck and six CIA jumped in.
Deshano, Robinson, Fegan and Farnsworth boarded a bulletproof limousine and followed behind six Brinks-like steel armored trucks. As they moved down the highway Robinson could see the CIA agents stationed here and there. Overpasses were secured in advance of their passing. Helicopters hovered overhead. He was certain nothing could go wrong.
Deshano ran a command center from the limo talking to his snipers from a headset as they moved down the road. For two hours everything went smoothly. They were a few miles out of Denver on E 470 N.
“Everything looks clear.”
“Good to go.”
“We are being escorted by a dozen motorcycle cops at the bridge.”
“That’s a no go—code red. Those are not our men!”
As they worked their way over the bridge a deafening explosion filled the air and the choppers dropped from the sky.
Deshano opened all channels. “Mayday! Mayday! We’ve been hit on the bridge. Choppers are down!”
The motorcycle cops open fired on the lead trucks. Two burst into flame and rolled over. Abruptly they did a 180 and ran up and down the bridge firing into the tires of the armored trucks. More vehicles spun out of control and ended up sliding on their sides as though on ice. More machine-gun bursts into the exposed gas tanks set off more explosions. A weather helicopter appeared overhead with the words “Denver is Dandy” printed in bright red.
“What’s that chopper doing here?” yelled Deshano.
“Not ours sir—should we take it out?”
“Negative—for now—if it becomes hostile blow it out of the sky!”
Suddenly a tanker truck appeared out of nowhere and blocked the end of the bridge. The truck with Le Blanc veered off to the side and pitched over the rail then dropped into the water.
“Stay inside and keep down!” yelled Deshano to Farnsworth as he stepped to the pavement with a Schmeisser submachine-gun and began firing at the cops as they raced by. Two spun out of control, hit a burning truck and flew like ragdolls high into the air. Robinson lifted a seat and pulled out an RPG then rolled to the pavement as machine-gun fire passed over his head. Fegan ran down the pavement in the opposite direction firing his Helwan 9mm at passing cops.
The weather helicopter began strafing the armored trucks and several flipped on their sides in balls of flame while another pitched over the rail. Robinson lay prone on the pavement. “Lock, load, fire!” The RPG sailed into the air and the chopper exploded and fell into the water. He dropped the RPG and picked up an AK-47 that lay nearby. A cop jumped off his chopper and headed straight for Robinson firing a pair of Ruger Mark III pistols. Deshano saw him and riddled the thug with bullets; then ran forward and grabbed the corpse before it hit the pavement. Another cop jumped from his cycle and began taking shots. Robinson stood beside Deshano and pulled the corpse in front and used it as a shield while he braced himself behind the door. The body convulsed like strawberry gelatin as it was sprayed with gun fire. Deshano dropped to his knees and returned a volley of his own and dropped the cop to the pavement.
“Thanks, I owe you one,” said Deshano while he reloaded this pistol. “We’ve got to see what happened to LE Blanc. See if you can work your way over there!” He pointed to the missing rail.
Six hooded men jumped from the tanker and headed toward Deshano and Robinson. Two dozen CIA had been working their way down the pavement saw them and opened fire. Three were dead before they hit the pavement and the others ducked behind a burning truck. “Hold back!” yelled Deshano, “I’ll get them.” He ran to the limo and found another RPG in the trunk while his men battled in a fire fight. “These people—they never learn,” he muttered as he fired into the truck blowing away everything within fifty feet.
Robinson surveyed the bridge of burning trucks and helicopter debris. Bloodied corpses stretched from one end to the other in what looked like a war zone. The Denver lights came to life as dusk approached. The sun settled in the west turning the sky crimson and mauve. He found his way to the edge of the rail and looked into the muddy water. Below, agents were clinging to the box that bobbed like a cork. An abandoned speedboat hid in the shadows tied to the pilings. Corpses floated like discarded carrion along the surface face down. “Is everyone OK?”
“They had a scuba team down here and we shot’m all,” returned a voice that echoed off the chalky granite banks. “We have a casualty. One of our men was shot with a spear in the shoulder.”
Deshano shouted, “Climb in the boat and tow LE Blanc to the shore. We’ll meet you there.” The agent with the spear in his shoulder cried out in pain when the others attempted to lift him into the boat. “Throw him a preserver and tow him if you can.” Ambulances began arriving on the scene and Deshano directed one under the bridge.
The paramedics waded into the water and brought the injured man to the shore, then loaded him into the back of the ambulance. “He’ll be fine—nothing vital was struck.”
The box was dragged ashore. Deshano stood over it. “We’ve got to open it up,” he muttered. “Too much could have happened. There could be a switch.” He stooped and ran his hands over the box and locks as though he were making love to a virgin. “It appears to be the same box. It would be an embarrassment to ship this all the way to Israel then find out he is not in there.”
Farnsworth examined the LED display. “According to this, someone is in there.”
Deshano brought the keys from his pocket and began opening the locks.
Robinson stood back and aimed the AK-47 at the box. An armored truck was backed up to the shore. Agents stood ready to load the box, all with pistols drawn.
“We should be ready for anything.” Robinson placed his finger to the trigger and braced himself firmly—his heart pounded wildly.
“Yeah.” Deshano released the final lock and lifted the cover.
“Lemme outtahere!” Le Blanc sat up.
Deshano pushed him back. “Your men are good LE Blanc, however my men are better. NEXT STOP—ISRAEL!” He slammed the cover shut and gave everyone a hi-five.
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"Forty Days to Armageddon"
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