The officer patted J.R. on the shoulder. “He is very fortunate to have a friend like you. I am off to bed. Have a good night.”
Morning came early and fast enough. J.R. showered, shaved, and dressed in his combat uniform. He was due in a strategy meeting with his squadron. J.R.’s men rose as he entered the assigned War and Strategy room.
“At ease, commanders. We are here this week to sharpen our air combat skills against a sophisticated and well-armed enemy. Our victory will depend as much on information technology as it will on bombs or missiles. The games next week will test your ability to use the Infrared Search and Track sensors on the Super Hornet. Combined with the Hornet’s advanced radar and the Growler’s electronic attack radar jamming ability, we will dominate the skies in all threat environments. Let’s go over the assignments and take a look at what we are expected to do.”
The first week went well for J.R.’s squadron. His warriors performed quite well in the field training exercise that focused on the integration and joint training with U.S. forces. J.R. led the Strike Fighter Squadron on mock reconnaissance to Norfolk, Virginia. The goal was to provide the accuracy of the advanced identification, friend or foe, systems that enabled the war jets to identify any owner of any vehicle or aircraft, and any forces in high-density cities like New York, Baltimore, and Washington D.C. The Strike Fighter Squadron’s sensors provided real-time images to the communications centers in the battle groups ahead of them.
Once the Strike Fighter Squadron arrived at Naval Station Norfolk, they joined the carrier air wing to which they were assigned. Their home for the exercise was the USS George W. Bush. The commander of the carrier strike group was Rear Admiral Brice Cooper. This exercise was the largest that J.R. had been a part of with about 22,000 service members, 30 ships, and 280 aircraft. The military exercise tested tactics, techniques, and procedures used in by joint operations in combat. This included multiple live-fire training sessions by Navy and Air Force assets. The exercise ended in spectacular fashion with all three carrier strike groups and other units sailing or flying in formation for the public and media to see. That night, all three carriers hosted a grand affair for selected officers and enlisted men and women. J.R. attended the celebration on the USS George W. Bush.
He was having a causal moment with several other officers when Rear Admiral Brice Cooper walked up and they all snapped to attention.
“At ease gentlemen. I am enjoying the evening. I hope you are too. Do you mind if I have a minute with Captain Russell?”
The other officers nodded in approval. J.R. and the admiral took a seat in a quiet corner in the spacious dining hall.
“Sir, I am at your command; what can I help with?”
“Captain, I have reassigned you to a special task force during the upcoming week. Your squadron will complete their time here under Captain Steve Anderson's command.”
“Understood, sir. When will I be briefed?”
“Your orders have been delivered to your quarters. Do us proud, Marine.”
Chapter Five – Bumblehive
The next morning, J.R. arose early and flight-ready. As he stood on the flight deck watching the sunrise and bathe the waters of the North Atlantic Ocean. He tightened his flight jacket against the cool air. He felt the aircraft carrier speed increasing to near 40 miles an hour to make takeoff a little easier for his F-18 Hornet, as the war jet would get additional airflow over the flight deck by speeding up into the wind in the direction of takeoff. The air moving over the war jet wings lowered the plane’s minimum takeoff speed. The destroyers were matching the carriers’ speed until they got the signal to head toward their intended targets.
J.R. conducted a walk-around inspection and climbed into the war jet’s cockpit. Pre-flight inspections were conducted by deck crew. The F-18 Super Hornet was taxied from its parked position to the flight line. J.R. was ready for launch. From the cockpit, he saw the catapult officer signaling that he should activate the Hornet’s afterburner for takeoff. The catapult officer then signaled full power.
J.R.’s F-18 Super Hornet ignited the full afterburners for the high-power engine run-up and J.R. brought all of the 44,000 pounds of thrust from his engines to bear to full power. When he saw the go/launch signal from the catapult officer he took off. J.R. said to himself, “Zero to 275 mph in three seconds. Not bad!”
He banked left away from the carrier and quickly climbed to a ceiling of 50,000. He smiled as he headed across the North Atlantic Ocean at Mach 1.8 or 1,329 miles an hour. “Short trip…like I said…I will be at Pease Air National Guard Base early enough to eat breakfast.”
After landing a short while later, Captain Russell’s escort took him to the Dining Facility on base. He was eating a hearty breakfast when he heard a stern command.
“Captain Russell, you are to accompany us.”
He looked up from his breakfast to see two heavily armed Navy Master-at-arms looking really serious.
“You boys have a seat. Get some breakfast…”
“Sir, we must leave now.”
Moments later, J.R. was riding shotgun in an armored Humvee. The three of them took a back road on the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard. The primary mission of the Shipyard was the overhaul, repair, and modernization of the U.S. Navy’s nuclear-powered submarine fleet. The two guards escorted J.R. to the old Portsmouth Naval Prison.
The prison was built in 1908 with an appearance of a majestic castle. It came to be known as The Rock on Seavey Island. It was actually in Kittery, Maine, a city that bordered the state line between Maine and New Hampshire. In 2008, the old Portsmouth Naval Prison was selected to be the home for United States Cyber Command. It would be called USCYBERCOM. Its sole purpose was to consolidate and synchronize the Department of Defense's (DOD) full spectrum of cyberspace operations. This one command center would plan, coordinate, integrate, synchronize, and conduct activities to lead the day-to-day defense and protection of our information networks. When need it could also provide support to military missions and direct the operations and defense of specified DoD information networks. USCYBERCOM also supported the Armed Services' ability to confidently conduct high-tempo, effective operations as well as protect command and control systems and the cyberspace infrastructure supporting weapons system platforms from disruptions, intrusions, and attacks.
J.R’s armed escorts whisked him through a tunnel. As they came flying out of the long tunnel, he heard the screech of the seagulls. The vehicle came to a sudden halt and J.R. heard a huge door closed around them. They were in a large, noticeably clean, and very well-lit, elevator. The interior was of a brushed nickel design. Suddenly J.R. felt the rapid descent of the elevator. There was dead silence for about three minutes.
The elevator came to a halt. As they escorted J.R. down a long well-lit hall, J.R. asked, “How many floors down are we?”
The soldier whispered, “What I can tell you is that if a window were here, you could see a Virginia-class submarine troll by under full power as the submariners leave for the open sea.”
As they entered a very large room featuring men and women working, J.R. looked around the well-appointed room. He quickly realized he had entered a vast communication and command center. As J.R. scanned the room, he sensed the capabilities for communicating with mobile devices and multiple participants. On movie theater-size screens he could see real-time broadcasts of army forces advanced teams on mission.
J.R. amazed, thought, "This building is huge. It has got to be the size of the U.S. National Military Command Center."
Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice, one that must have known what he was thinking.
“Actually, it is larger and more high-tech than the Russian Defense Data Center.” The familiar voice was Captain Sara Parrish.
Sara was from Naval Intelligence and one hundred percent Virginian. “Born and raised in Northern Virginia,” she would say.
Sara was schooled in Fairfax County private schools and completed her undergraduate degree at the Univer
sity of Virginia. She had always been what some men would call a beautiful alpha-female. Sara competed on the women's rowing team and won four NCAA championships, two as the captain, her junior and senior year. She graduated summa cum laude from the Frank Batten School of Leadership and Public Policy. She had just completed her Master’s degree in Cybersecurity, Intelligence, and Forensics at the Center for Naval Intelligence when she was approached by a recruiter for the DIA. With her experience and education, they thought she would be a good fit for the agency that provided military intelligence to war-fighters, defense policymakers, and force planners in the Department of Defense and the Intelligence Community. Sara postponed that offer as she wanted to complete her flight training. That is where she met J.R. Two months later she reported for duty at the Marine Corps Base at Quantico where she was quickly put to work managing the relationships of the American Global Intelligence Community that included not only numerous U.S. agencies but intelligence agencies spanning the globe. Some of her frequent communications were with numerous agencies from British Intelligence to Israeli, Australian, and even the Russian Federal Security Service.
“Welcome, J.R.”
“Sara…I mean Captain Parrish. It is good to see you again. I have not seen you since Fort Meade last year.”
Captain Parris motioned for J.R. to take his seat. She then took command of the meeting. “We welcome the intelligence agencies as well as our allies that are here today.”
Captain Parris walked up to the towering state of the art multi-touch video screened wall. Currently, it was broadcasting Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, and Coast Guard real-time intelligence and military operational information. Suddenly, images of global maps and data-points appeared on the big screens. Captain Parris began her briefing.
“It seems that cell phone noise and digital intercepts over the last four months indicate something huge is being planned, but no one is able to break the ciphers. It is imperative to identify what is afoot here. The National Security Agency Data Center in Utah has been called in.”
Sara smiled and looked at the NSA officers sitting at the huge oval oak conference table across from her. She pressed an icon.
“NSA Data Center, commonly called the Utah Data Center, code-named Bumblehive, is the first Intelligence Community Comprehensive National Cyber-security initiative. The data center was designed to support the Intelligence Community's efforts to monitor, strengthen and protect the nation. Its sole mission is total information awareness. Their stealth cyber-technology intercepts decipher, analyzes, and stores vast swaths of the world’s communications distilled from satellites including the complete contents of private e-mails, cell-phone calls, and search-engines such as Google.”
Suddenly a geeky looking fellow raised his hand.
Sara pointed to him, “Hmm it seems I have a question before I begin my brief. This is going to be a tough crowd.”
The audience laughed…nervously.
“Captain, if we are here to discuss information intercepts, then we need to be sure PRISM, another highly classified NSA program that Ed Snowden uncovered to the public is included.
“Why would you say this matters…”
“Because of the nature of the technology, about 80 percent of the world’s Internet traffic passes through United States servers at some point. Edward Snowden, the former intelligence contractor who leaked classified documents thought that PRISM—authorized under Section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act enables the NSA to track foreign terrorists and adversaries by intercepting their Internet traffic as it zips through the U.S.–based servers. Besides PRISM isn’t touched at all by the USA Freedom Act, nor does any serious politician propose overhauling it. This makes PRISM a far more effective intelligence tool.”
The entire room was suddenly quiet. Everyone heard a throat clearing. A top brass gentleman spoke.
“What’s your name son?”
“Eddie Pearson sir…but most people that know me call me Quasar. I am a linguist and a computer expert. I work for the Defense Intelligence Agency.”
“Eddie, I suggest you let the Commander get on with her work here…”
“Roger that Colonel.”
Sara smiled, “Thank you, Colonel.”
Sara looked around the room to gauge the interest of the Directors and Commanders. She had their attention as she continued, “Here is what we have found so far.” Just as she said that she pushed a button that brought up what appeared to be thousands of files with one word highlighted…Puerto Rico Trench.
Chapter Six – Family
Meanwhile, in Savannah, Georgia, Jeff watched from the deck as the Emergence Company tugboats guided his cargo ship though port. The container ship he served on arrived in Savannah after two months at sea on a trip from Shanghai, China, and around the Horn of Africa with a stopover at the Port of Santos in Brazil.
“Well, our job is done. Daniel’s boys will take over now.”
Daniel was a foreman for the Savannah Georgia Longshoreman's Association. The longshoremen crews got to work unloading the cargo, about 3,000 loaded containers from China and Brazil. Jeff thought, "This should give me plenty of time to enjoy my time in Savannah. Jeff had shore leave. With five days in front of him, Jeff thought it would be a great idea to spend a few days with his big brother Daniel."
Jeff had a rental car delivered to him. He threw his gear in the car and headed out to the islands that lie east of Savannah between the city of Thunderbolt and the beach community of Tybee Island, commonly called Savannah Beach. He purposely drove through the colonial district to stop for lunch at one of his favorite eating places. The Café Florie was located in a blue-collar midtown neighborhood on the edge of the historic district, on Barnard Street. He expected Daniel for lunch as he had texted him an hour ago. As Jeff pulled in to park, he could see Daniel standing out front. Jeff rolled the window down and yelled, “My hero!”
“Lil brother, how have you been?” They gave each other a big hug and Daniel kissed Jeff on the forehead. “Your mother asked about you. She wants to see you while you are here.”
The waiter seated them and poured water. “I already ordered for us to save time.”
“What’s the rush, big brother?”
Daniel laughed, “Those 3,000 loaded containers you brought in from China and Brazil!” this caused Jeff to laugh as well.
“I ordered your favorites, Tillie’s meatloaf with Johnnie Fries and sweet potato pound-cake for dessert.”
“Told Ya! You are my hero.”
“It is good to see you again, Jeff. Everyone asked about you at my birthday party last week.”
“Happy birthday bro. Time seems to fly by.”
“Yeah, I turned forty-five. I have a great relationship with my young brother. My wife and children love me. And our mother smiles when she sees me coming. Not like she does when she sees her Jeff coming.”
“Well…that is life. What can I tell you?”
Although both laughed, Daniel becomes serious, “However, I do have regrets.”
“What do you regret?”
“That I blew my knee out while playing college basketball. I had hopes for the NBA. And to add insult, the injury prevented me from going into the Air Force even after I passed the exams.”
Jeff reached over and hugged his big brother. “You and your buddy John Russell are such patriots. How is he doing?”
“J.R. is fine. I talked to him yesterday. He will be in town in a couple weeks. Enough talk, let’s eat.”
Daniel and Jeff enjoyed their quick lunch.
Daniel sipped his tea and punched Jeff. “Bro…I am buying a Dodge Ram truck in a couple weeks.”
“You already have a nice truck.”
“You sound like my wife. I want a Dodge Ram.” Daniel looked at his watch. “Gotta run, Jeff. Here are the house keys. Marcia will pick the kids up from school around four. She will put dinner on around 6 pm.”
“No, she won’t. I am taking her and the kids out to
dinner at Old Time Country Buffet. Are they still open on Stephenson Ave?”
“Yep…Thanks, I love you, little brother.”
Jeff drove out of the parking lot and headed for Wilmington Island. He decided to ride past the Old Fort Area where he grew up. He thought, from there I can take the Island Expressway to the Islands.
A crew-member told Jeff that his old home was the subject of a demolition and resident-relocation project. It stood in the way of a new federal stimulus money package for community rebirth. As he drove slowly down Randolph Street towards President Street on this bright sunny day, he looked to the right. My god, it’s gone. Over 50 years of history and tradition is gone. It's like we were never there. At least they didn’t demolish the huge live oak trees draped with Spanish moss that stood across the yard in David Court, Jeff thought. With a final look, Jeff pulled away and headed for the expressway.
Jeff had a restless night as he always did on his first night back on land. Jeff often experienced reverse sea-sickness or 'drunken sailor syndrome,' but it quickly went away without medication. It served Jeff well as the next day he got up early, before Daniel and his family. Strategically, it allowed Jeff to say his morning prayers in Arabic.
Jeff was sitting in the sun-room having coffee when his nephew Tony came down. “Good morning, Tony. How is my favorite nephew?”
“Uncle Jeff, I am your only nephew.”
Both laughed and hugged each other. Jeff fixed cereal for both of them and talked about things an uncle would talk about with his teenage nephew.
“Gotta go, Uncle.”
Jeff jokingly held him back by the elastic in the back of his pajamas. “Where are you going?”
Tony looked at his uncle as only a kid can. “It is Saturday, Uncle Jeff. You don’t expect me to get up this early?”
Jeff thought, teenagers…you gotta love them.
Accelerant- Sixth Extinction Page 5
