The Hard Core

by Allen Manning

  “I don’t think that will work,” Parker said.

  Everyone looked at him as he spoke.

  Parker shrank back before continuing. “Uh, what I mean is, those infrared scanners are probably just one layer of monitoring.”

  “What else could we be looking at?” Travis asked. “The reports don’t show anything else.”

  “Parker’s right,” John said. “Let him continue.”

  “I, well, I mean…this is just everything we can see from a satellite image,” Parker said. “There could be more stuff too. Motion detectors, lights, cameras.”

  “So you’re saying it’s hopeless?” Roland asked.

  “No. I just think we’re working out of order,” Parker said. He pointed to a small building behind the main facility. “We need to get someone here. That’s the control room for their surveillance systems.”

  “That’s just a shack,” Chance said. “There’s no way all their guys are in there monitoring the feeds.”

  “What I mean is, that’s where the equipment to control all of their stuff is,” Parker clarified. “Look at all the cables running into the main building. It’s branching out all over the base from there.”

  “If we take that out, then the whole base will know we’re there,” Chance said.

  “But they’ll be blind,” John said.

  “It’s the same problem as before,” Millie said. “They can lock that facility down, and we’ll never be able to get in.”

  “Let me finish,” Parker said. “What I’m saying is, if someone can give me access to that equipment, I can open up a window to let the rest of you sneak in.”

  “There’s no way you’re going in there,” John said. “It’s far too dangerous.”

  “I’m talking about remote access,” Parker said. “Part of those cables include some fat juicy data pipes that would give me near-real-time feedback.”

  “I’d ask how you plan on getting access, but I already know you’ve got an answer for that,” John said.

  Parker held up a chunky black box. Its outer case had the telltale texturing from a 3d printer.

  “Where did you get this?” Millie asked, scrutinizing the device.

  “Do you know what that is?” Travis asked.

  “It’s a Cracker Jack,” Millie said, opening the shell. “It lets you open up the pipelines to pull data fast.”

  “How did you know?” Parker asked, staring in disbelief.

  “A friend of mine built one, using plans from some hacker network,” she said.

  “Yeah, that’s where I got it too,” Parker said. “But this one is modified. I don’t want to open the lines fully, I just need a solid input and output connection.”

  “How does that solve our problem?” Travis asked.

  “Like I said, I can open a window that gives John and the others a clear shot for a few minutes. They just need to deal with the sentries.”

  “Right, so I’ll come in from here and plug this into their equipment,” Millie said. “That should let John, Chance, and Roland make their way to the side entrance here. That means we can eliminate the day-long hike since the window gives them a clear approach along the main road.”

  “You thought the first hike was bad. That one is far worse,” Travis said, pointing to the mountain Millie proposed for her approach.

  “Alright, so I’ll just drop in with a zip line.”

  “We would still have to get you up to the peak,” Travis said. “Those defenses would blast a chopper out of the sky in seconds.”

  “And I doubt there’s a cable long enough to zip down, even if you made it up there,” Ty said.

  Everyone stopped talking and looked at the courier.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time,” John said. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

  Ty stared at the image, a mask of intense focus on his face. “There’s a gap right there.” He pointed to the map, where two dotted lines converged.

  “Those fields of view overlap,” Travis said. “There’s no gap there.”

  “No disrespect, but your eggheads only drew straight lines, assuming this whole area was flat,” Ty said. “These rocks here would block everything sweeping this area.”

  “He’s right,” Parker said. “We could fit a drone through that gap and get it to the control room.”

  “How is a drone going to hook the box up once it’s inside?” Millie asked.

  “And is it even fast enough to slip through that gap?” Travis asked. “The sensor would pick it up when it sweeps back.”

  “So we need something that can approach quickly and hook the Cracker Jack up to their equipment,” Chance said.

  “Like a hundred and sixty-five-pound Asian male?” Ty asked, raising an eyebrow.

  * * *

  “This is nuts,” Travis said. “It’s easily one of the wildest plans I’ve ever been involved in. Do you even think it has a chance?”

  “We have no choice but to succeed,” John said, lifting a crate from the pickup truck. “If Faust is helping to fund terror cells like the Four Serpents, we can’t risk letting him escape.”

  He carried it over to the corner of the garage, setting it down with the others. Travis shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. John opened the case and inspected the contents, satisfied with what he found inside.

  “I’m not even going in there, and my nerves are on edge,” Travis said. “Seriously, have I said this is nuts yet?”

  “About a dozen times,” John said. “I’ll admit, this is on the wilder side of plans I’ve joined, but we’ve got the element of surprise on our side.”

  “That Ty Octane is a wild card. I mean does he even know what he’s getting himself into?” Travis asked.

  “If your guys provided accurate breakdowns of the base, then all we can do is stick to the plan,” John said. “Besides, Ty has been in some scary situations. I may not like how he runs his mouth, but when its game time, he’s surprised even me.”

  “Parker seems to really idolize him,” Travis said.

  “That’s because Parker desperately wants to be cool.”

  Travis exhaled and wiped a hand across his eyes. “My heart’s racing. I think I’m gonna keel over before this is done.”

  “You need to relax, Chambers,” John said with a smirk as he left.

  “I need to meditate,” Travis said as the door shut behind John.

  He pulled his phone out and thumbed through his contacts, placing a call. Travis held a hand to his forehead as he paced the garage, listening to the phone ring.

  “Yeah, it’s Chambers. We’re in business,” he said. “Thank you for the gear and intel.”

  He listened for a second, trying to compose himself.

  “I’m going to need something else. A team on standby.”

  “That’s right, suited up and ready to go.”

  Travis glanced down at the TAG Heuer on his wrist. “I’ll send you the contact info for the man I want to lead the charge. We’re going to need to keep official channels out of this, so that plane needs to stay grounded until I call.”

  He ended the call and slid the phone into his jacket. “This is nuts.”

  CHAPTER

  28

  * the Rocky Mountains*

  (Near the Colorado and New Mexico border)

  Faust Kingston climbed down from the helicopter and kept his head ducked as he jogged toward the buggy waiting for him. The rotor wash kicked pebbles and dirt everywhere, sandblasting his jacket as he hopped into the passenger seat. The electric motor whined, lurching the buggy forward.

  As the Bell 407 lifted off, another helicopter approached. The pilot of the second craft zoomed in fast, almost recklessly. The UH-1Y barely touched down when four people hopped down, crouching.

  A moment later, one stood and helped a fifth man step down. The Super Huey rose up again, leaving a cloud of dust from the debris loosened by the first chopper.

  “Wait,” Faust said, tapping the driver on the shoulder.


  He looked over his shoulder, watching as Captain Hawke and the rest of his team stood and walked over to greet him.

  “Delivered, as promised,” Hawke said, snapping a salute before pulling Owen Blythe up to stand next to him.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Faust said. He pointed a thumb at the back seats. “Please, why don’t you and Blythe join me.”

  The strike team leader nodded to his team and climbed into the cart. The driver took them into the base, bouncing over the still rough terrain. The main structure had most of the walls already up, but a section near the back had no panels secured to the support beams. Its iron bones were exposed to the elements.

  Small groups of men and women wandered around, pointing and talking to each other. Most wore hard hats and coveralls, with a few wearing military-style uniforms. All had the CARR Group logo emblazoned on the back.

  “Once we get this place up and running, it’s going to turn around close to twelve hundred recruits a year for your company,” Faust said. “Double that within three years, all under Mr. Blythe’s leadership.”

  Hawke nodded, genuinely impressed. “Where are the people coming from?”

  “We have prison facilities all over the country, but we will be pulling primarily from the southwest region for logistical reasons.”

  “Do you have that many around here?” Hawke asked.

  “Not yet,” Faust smiled. “But we’re pulling some strings to have a few detention facilities built up all along the southern border. Mostly New Mexico and Texas.”

  The buggy’s rough ride smoothed out as soon as the driver pulled into the cavernous opening of the base’s primary building. They parked in one of the many open spots along one wall.

  “As you can see, we’re still running a bit of a skeleton crew,” Faust said. “Two dozen security team members, and maybe forty or fifty crew members building the place. Welcome to the Wolf’s Den.”

  “How long until this place is up and running?” Blythe asked.

  Faust looked down at his Rolex. “About twenty hours ago.” He looked up with a mischievous grin. “The first busload of volunteers arrived yesterday. We’ve already got them settled in their barracks. Blythe, why don’t you head to the control room and get a feel for the place.”

  Owen nodded. “Of course.”

  Donovan Hawke raised an eyebrow. “Barracks?”

  “More like cells, really, but we’re trying to soften the language. You know, make them feel like part of something bigger,” Faust said.

  * * *

  New Mexico

  John climbed down onto the tarmac and followed Travis to a small hangar set up as an impromptu staging area for them. A helicopter filled half of the space. Several techs finished mounting the last of half a dozen monitors on a rack against the wall, checking the thick bundle of cables providing power and communications to the equipment.

  “Whoa,” Parker said, keeping his eyes locked onto the computers as he descended the steps from the plane.

  Chance, Millie, and Roland followed, each stretching the stiffness from their joints.

  “Where’s Ty?” Travis asked.

  “Still sleeping,” Millie said, bending over to press her nose between her knees.

  Travis let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s like that guy has two speeds, loud-mouth, and sleeping.”

  “I get bored easily,” Ty said, scratching his head as he emerged from the exit.

  John walked to the rear of the plane where the crew placed the cargo on the ground. He lifted one of the bulky cases up onto his shoulder and brought it inside. The two crew members each grabbed a handle on the end of the second case, and followed John.

  Parker double-checked the connections and booted the computers up. “Is this set up the way I asked?”

  “The top four monitors are going to show you the feed from the team’s cameras,” Travis said. “The other two are your primary and secondary displays. The last two are for the secondary system.”

  “Secondary system?” Parker turned to face Travis. “Who’s running that?”

  “I am.”

  Parker turned to face the familiar woman’s voice. “Doctor Spencer?”

  “The one and only. Well, probably not the only one.” Dr. Miranda Spencer walked over from a parked car.

  She and Parker exchanged a quick hug.

  “What are you doing here?” Parker asked.

  “Mr. Chambers called me. I offered my assistance to get the satellite data to you,” she replied.

  “Doctor Spencer has experience working with data from drones and satellites from her days working with Marvin Van Pierce and the Hostile Response Division,” Travis said. “Her skills proved valuable right away.”

  “Doctor,” John said, nodding to Miranda.

  “John.” She smiled and nodded as she walked over.

  John’s arms enveloped her in a fatherly embrace before he held her out at arms-length. “Even now, Van Pierce is always bringing the team together.”

  “The team is growing, I see,” Miranda said, looking past John.

  “Yo, is this mine?” Ty said, flipping the lid off of a box on the table.

  “Built for forward speed and maximum glide, like you requested,” Travis said. “The jumpmaster wasn’t fully convinced that this was the one you should use. He said you could be sacrificing too much agility.”

  “If I’m making last-minute course corrections to hit that gap, I won’t have the speed to reach the base before the sensors pick me up,” Ty said.

  He dropped his backpack next to the case and fished out a box inside. Ty slipped a pair of rings on his middle fingers and a watch on his left wrist. He fished around the side pocket of his bag, sticking his tongue out to the side as he did.

  “There you are,” Ty said, lifting the diamond studded bracelet from the bag and clasping it around his right wrist.

  “You’re really wearing all of that for the mission?” Roland asked.

  “Yeah. What am I supposed to do, walk around in public like some square?” Ty asked, oblivious to Roland’s quizzical gaze.

  “Is that garbage really mission-critical?” Chance asked.

  “Man, don’t mess with my mojo,” Ty said. “Like the great prophet, Lil Wayne, once said, *Most of y’all don’t see the picture, unless the flash is on.” He held his wrist up and jingled the bracelet.

  Chance and Roland stood speechless, looking at each other before looking back at the shadow courier.

  “No Weezy fans? You guys have poor taste in music,” Ty said.

  Chance looked at the rest of the team. “Whose man is this?”

  Millie brushed past Chance and set her tactical vest down next to Ty’s case. She held a rifle braced against her hip, checking to ensure the chamber was clear before manipulating it further.

  “What is that?” Ty asked looking around.

  “An M4 converted to a three hundred blackout,” Travis said. “Fast-attach suppressor and red dot sight. Special order for the lady.”

  “I didn’t know we were allowed to custom order guns,” Ty said, looking at the others. “Where’s mine?”

  * * *

  * the Rocky Mountains*

  A crowd gathered around the Wolf’s Den weapons training area. Flash stood poised at the starting point, hands held up, fingers resting on her temples. She faced a trio of targets down the firing line, fifteen meters away.

  A trainer stood to her left, holding a digital timer in his hand. “Shooter ready?”

  She nodded.

  The timer beeped, and her hands snapped the rifle up, pulling it to her shoulder. She fired a burst at the target on the left, sweeping to the right and shooting another burst at the target on the right. Flash let the rifle hang by its sling, drew her sidearm with practiced ease, and drove it forward with her palms pressed together.

  The pistol cracked twice. A quarter of a second later, she fired a third shot. Switching the handgun to her left hand, Flash grabbed a dagger from her vest and hur
led it downrange.

  The trainer laughed, looking at the timer before showing it to the others. “She added that knife throw at the end, and still beat the rest of you sad sacks. Look at that accuracy.”

  Captain Hawke walked by, following Faust as they greeted the INSEC trainers breaking in the firing range.

  “Don’t crush their spirits before they even get started, Sloane,” he said.

  “I was holding back, sir. Wouldn’t want them to quit before the first group of trainees make it through here,” she said with a smirk.

  “Where are Rhino and Burst?” he asked.

  “At the shoot house,” the trainer said. “They should be wrapping up by now.”

  Hawke nodded and turned to talk to Faust again. “Impressive set up you’ve got here. I’ll have to make sure we stop by and get a feel for the level of training our new recruits are getting.”

  “Of course,” Faust said with a half bow and nod.

  Burst and Rhino returned with a group of INSEC contractors following close behind.

  “We need to get our hands on some of those,” one of the men said, pointing to Burst’s carbine.

  “Sorry, but that’s still a prototype,” Hawke said. “First Sergeant Driver has been evaluating it for the company.”

  “Made a few mods to it as well,” Burst said, sliding the charging handle back and forth several times before reinserting a fresh magazine into the weapon, behind the grip.

  “If that’s all, Mr. Kingston, my team and I would like to head out,” Hawke said over the thumping rotors of the approaching chopper.

  “So soon?” Faust asked.

  “Gotta head back to Detroit,” he replied. “Roland is still running around, and we’ve already committed to taking him out for you.”

  “It’s wonderful working with professionals,” Faust said, his grin stretching across his face, showing his unnaturally white teeth.

  CHAPTER