Free Designated Survivor by John H. Matthews

said.
    “Get the fuck back,” Holden said.
    Everyone went around the corner as Holden ran the wires and attached them to the small black box with a hand crank on the side, a trigger he’d built that required no electrical power source.
    “Fire in the hole!” Holden turned the handle a full rotation. A metal cylinder spun inside a series of magnets, creating a small electrical charge that traveled down the wire to the detonators in the plastic explosives. A series of small explosions went off inside the cement block wall. The floor shook for a moment then everything was done.
    They all went back around the corner to see the wall still standing.
    “Any other ideas?” Avery said.
    Holden walked towards the wall then stopped just in front of it. He ran his hand around the perimeter of the holes then stepped back and extended his right leg out in a kick, striking the wall with the bottom of his heavy work boot.
    The wall began to crumble from the bottom, which allowed the top to fall away.
    “Damn,” Netty said. “That’s some kick.”
    Holden and Levi cleared enough of the debris to let them climb over carrying their bags. Ten feet past the rubble was the decades old steel door.
    Grace walked up to the door and turned the unlocked handle and pushed but the door was jammed in place.
    “How about you bring your thunder boot over here again,” Grace said.
    “Thunder boot, I like that,” Holden stepped to the door and repeated his kick and the door opened eight inches.
    With a few more shoulders and kicks it was open wide enough for them to pass through with their bags. Following Grace they each wore night vision goggles. They came to a metal stairwell that went down twenty feet then found themselves standing on the wooden platform where the electric subway train used to pull up.
    “You’re standing where J. Edgar Hoover once stood, men,” Grace said.
    “And women,” Netty said.
    “And women,” Grace said.
    “So now we have two miles to walk in this tunnel?” Corbin said.
    “Hopefully not,” Grace said. “Avery, over here.”
    Twenty feet down the track sat an abandoned open-topped subway car. A tower came out of the middle and attached onto a grooved track in the ceiling. Electricity would have flowed through the elevated groove and traveled down the tower to the electric motors on each set of wheels on the subway car.
    “It’s an electric subway car from the 1950’s. It was used to transport members of Congress back and forth,” Grace said. “Can you get it going?”
    Avery opened the large duffel he’d been wearing as a backpack and pulled out a two-foot square battery pack. “Let’s give it a try.”
    “Give it five minutes, if you don’t think it’ll roll then we’ll set out on foot,” Grace said. “Everyone else, get ready. Either way we’re out of here in five.”
    Bags were opened and gear spread out on the platform. Each person took off the grey coveralls to reveal their green combat pants. They pulled on the bulletproof vests they’d brought and strapped side holsters on and filled pockets with extra ammunition.
    Chip opened his second bag and handed a Sig Sauer 516 tactical rifle to each person along with two extra magazines.
    “I modified them myself,” Chip said. “Sound suppression is better than anything on the market.”
    A clicking sound came from the small electric motor on the subway car followed by some swear words from Avery. He reached under the motor to check the wiring then tried to start it again and the motor came to life in a low hum.
    “All aboard,” Avery said.
    Everyone sat along the edge of the narrow platform of the cart. Netty put two bags in the middle and was the last to climb on.
    “Here we go,” Avery shoved the handle forward to push the transmission into gear and the cart lurched forward almost throwing him off the back then steadied out and moved along.
    “Not the fastest thing,” Corbin said.
    “Probably seven or eight miles per hour,”