First Strike
Jack Higgins, master of the modern thriller, teams up with Justin Richards, bestselling author of Dr Who, to deliver a pulse-pounding new instalment in the adventures of the teenage Chance twins…Barely have Rich and Jade Chance walked away from their terrifying ordeal in the Middle East, when they stumble into another nightmare. And this time, it’s at the heart of the free world…As their father deals with missing nuclear missiles in China, the twins are finally enjoying their all-expenses paid trip to the White House. But the enjoyment isn’t going to last long. Soon, the President they saved from assassination in Sharp Shot is targeted again. Now Rich and Jade face a shocking siege and a battle to prevent World War III – all from the comfort of home. The President’s home…
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First Strike
Jack Higgins with Justin Richards
Table of Contents
Rich watched the tanks rolling down the main street. Civilians leaped aside. Children watched wide-eyed from shadowy doorways. Soldiers marched behind the tanks, grim-faced and determined.
These images were repeated on television screens all round the restaurant. The grim news reports they showed were a stark contrast to the upbeat 1980s dance track that was throbbing through the place. A teenage waitress on roller skates with a red and white striped uniform and braces on her teeth spun to a perfect stop beside Jade and Rich. She smiled at their dad.
“Can I get you guys some drinks?”
In the US-themed restaurant, its walls adorned with road signs and music posters from the 1950s, her West Country accent was out of place. Up till then, Rich could have forgotten that he was in England.
“You’re driving,” Jade warned her dad before he could order. “I’ll have a sparkling mineral water.”
“Milkshake,” Rich decided. “Chocolate fudge.”
“That is so bad for you,” Jade told him.
But Rich just grinned. His twin sister could be such a health freak. “I know.”
“What draught beer do you have?” John Chance asked.
The waitress started to list American beers.
Jade glared at her dad. “I said, you’re driving.”
“Just curious. I’ll have a pineapple juice,” he said. “With ice. If I’m allowed.”
“Ice is OK,” Jade confirmed.
“Made from frozen vodka if you can manage it,” Chance added. He grinned. “Kidding,” he assured the waitress.
“Right. I’ll be straight back with your drinks, and I’ll take your food order then. OK?” She didn’t wait for a reply.
On the TV screens a reporter was talking, though the sound was muted. Text flashed up underneath him: Chinese Peacekeepers enter Wiengwei province…No sign of missing US air crew…Chinese deny airmen have been arrested…
“I don’t know why they do that,” said Jade.
“They’re worried the rebels are getting more support,” said Rich.
“The Chinese have had trouble in Wiengwei ever since they invaded back in 1950,” Chance added. “At the time the western world was more concerned about Tibet. They hardly noticed what was happening at the same time down the road.”
“I meant,” said Jade, “why do they show the news channel with the sound turned down and music blaring out? I mean—what’s the point? You have to guess what’s happening. It’s just like visual noise and a confusing tickertape.”
…White House accused of abandoning airmen…President refuses to condemn Chinese…
“You can sort of see what’s going on,” said Rich.
The scrolling caption across the bottom of the screen now read: Still no sign of rebel leader Marshal Wieng.
“Only because we saw the news before we came out this evening,” Jade told him. The 6 o’clock broadcast had been almost entirely devoted to the developing story: an American military plane appeared to have gone down over Chinese airspace, but the Americans were refusing to confirm that their men had even been there, and the Chinese were denying having captured them. “And because we’ve got Mr Global Trouble-Shooter here to help.” She turned to her dad. “I bet you were there in Wiengwei in 1950 when China invaded or annexed it or whatever, weren’t you?”
Chance laughed. “How old do you think I am?” He leafed through the large glossy menu. “I have been to Wiengwei, actually” he admitted. “But rather more recently.”
“Official visit?” Rich wondered.
“Sort of. Well, no, not exactly. The ribs look good. What are you two having?”
“I’ll have a burger,” Rich decided.
“Jade?” Chance asked.
But she wasn’t listening. Jade was watching the waitress roller-skating across the restaurant carrying a tray with a large bottle of champagne balanced on it.
“Who does that?” she said. “Who comes out on a Friday night to a diner like this and orders champagne? At least you were asking about beer,” she told Chance. “If you ordered champagne to go with a burger or ribs, I’d be seriously worried.”
“I’d be seriously impressed,” said Rich, “if you could get champagne while Jade’s on the case.”
The waitress spun to a halt right next to their table.
“Your champagne, sir,” she said.
Jade’s eyes widened.
Rich’s mouth dropped open in awe. “How did you do that?”
Chance seemed every bit as surprised as his children. “I didn’t order champagne. I asked for pineapple juice.”
The waitress continued to smile, unperturbed. “Your friend ordered it for you.” She put the bottle down on the table, together with a glass. Then she handed Chance a folded slip of paper. “He seems a nice man.” She leaned closer. “Must be very wealthy!”
Chance took a quick look at the paper. “Appearances can be deceptive.” He swung round in his chair, scanning the restaurant.
“Who is it? Who’s it from?” Jade asked.
