by Pat Mullan
"General, that Colonel that Major Whiteside treated in Korea in '70. I saw him again the night that Murph was killed."
"Where?"
"On TV. The 11 o'clock news. He is Zachary Walker, the new Chairman of the Joint Chiefs!"
The General had just raised the espresso cup to his lips and now he choked, face red, and splattered the coffee over the white tablecloth, almost hitting MacDara. Mortified, he stood up, grabbed a couple of napkins, and mopped up the damage. As serious as the matter was, MacDara still found it difficult to suppress a good laugh at the General's expense. Having composed himself, General Shields sat down again and, looking directly at MacDara, said:
"Zach is a colleague and a fine soldier. We meet regularly with the President. You must be mistaken."
"No, General, I'm not! And that mysterious medical procedure still bothers me. If it had been innocuous, would Major Whiteside have sworn me to secrecy?"
"Do you really think there is something sinister in all of this?
"Sir, I don't know. The only people, other than myself, who knew about that are both dead. And both under tragic circumstances."
"But that could be a complete coincidence. What about you? Why are you still alive?"
"I've thought about that myself. That's the weak link in my premise. Maybe I'm on their list, and they're just waiting for the right event. An event that can blend into the daily tragedies. Just like Murphy and the Major."
"But who are 'they', Owen? Are you saying that all this is part of a conspiracy? Look what happened to Big Jim Garrison. He tried to prove that Kennedy's assassination had been a conspiracy."
"I'm not so sure that Garrison was wrong, General. If my gut is right, something really bad is going down. And the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs could be involved. If I'm wrong, then all that's happened is that we've lost a couple of close friends and I've had some sleepless nights."
"All right, I'll help. But this is strictly between you and me. If you're right, you could be in danger."
"I've got to take that risk. If I am right I've got to get to them before they get to me."
General Shields was highly skeptical of all conspiracy theories. Most of them turned out to the creation of charlatans who preyed on the fears of the public. Still MacDara was no charlatan. His fears deserved to be laid to rest.
"Owen, I'll need some more information, some more evidence to support your fears before I can be of any use."
"General, you're already of great help to me. Now I have someone to talk to about this. How can I contact you?"
"I'll be in touch with you early next week. Don't call me at my Washington office."
Two and a half hours had passed. A long lunch, thought MacDara as he looked at his watch. He was indebted to General Shields. The General was anxious to leave. He was cutting into their Connecticut weekend. Millie wouldn't complain. She never did. But Bart Shields felt guilty anyway. They had already said their good-byes when MacDara's voice cut through again.
"General, I almost forgot. One last thing. It may not be important. But you never know."
MacDara described to Bart Shields the tattoo that had been found on the albino's forearm. The red serpentine 'S' enclosed in the black circle. A discreet tattoo, almost hidden.
GMA Headquarters, New York
The package was delivered by special courier and MacDara had to sign for it personally. It was from General Shields and contained an internal modem and encryption card for a personal computer. There was a letter from the General and procedures. Procedures to follow to connect to the General's private electronic mail system. Procedures for password control. And instructions for installing the card in the computer's 16-bit expansion slot. It was a specially designed modem using top secret encryption and detection technology guaranteed to protect the contents of any messages traveling to or from the General over his private E-mail system network. The most widely used encoding system is the Data Encryption Standard (DES). It was designed by IBM and approved for use by the National Institute of Standards and Technology in 1976.
DES is built around a number of encrypting procedures that are then repeated several times. The U.S. military's Advanced Research Project Agency Network (ARPANET) is broken up into smaller subsystems for security purposes. But these small subsystems remain vulnerable. Vulnerable to international spying and sabotage. And sabotage can be accomplished by "viruses" that can progressively destroy software and databases. It was precisely this vulnerability that the Shields' encryption card defended.
As instructed, MacDara installed the card in his PC, dialed up the General's E-mail network and followed the procedures for logging on and establishing passwords. When he had finished, MacDara committed the passwords to memory and destroyed the General's memo and procedures.
FIVE
Washington, DC
Larry Sanderson paced nervously back and forth in front of General Bartley Shields' desk. But he was not nervous. Larry Sanderson could not sit still. When he had a problem to solve he paced the floor even faster. He was thirty-five years old, slight of build, with reddish hair that seemed to be glued to his head in tufts. His eyes were sensitive to the light and he wore tinted glasses to protect them. He stopped briefly, lifted his head, and looked directly at General Shields.
"Boss, I tried every key and cross-referenced every data element. I spent the last four hours accessing our new relational database. Nothing! Absolutely nothing!"
Sanderson was the Senior Software Designer and expert on STOP. Shields had brought him to Washington when he left the Army War College. He had worked on STOP since the feasibility and specifications stage. He was unstructured and unorthodox. Many people said he was unmanageable. Certainly he could not function as a member of a team. But everyone conceded that he was brilliant, a genius. And he was totally loyal to Bart Shields.
"Larry, I didn't expect this one to be easy. The tattoo is the only information I have at this time."
"Boss, I pulled every reference to tattoos and special markings and insignia. There's nothing on a snake inside a circle."
"Any other ideas?"
"Well, I tried everything we have on reptiles. Every snake imaginable from adders to rattlesnakes."
"Nothing?"
"Not a thing! No reference to any known or suspected people or groups. And I believe we have the most current database in STOP on terrorists and their friends and sympathizers."
"Maybe we're taking this too literally, Larry?"
"What do you mean, Boss?"
"Let's think outside the paradigm. Suppose we look where we wouldn't . Can we do something like that?"
"We could try. We've got that Artificial Intelligence System we've been building. Especially the fuzzy logic modules. But they're only in the acceptance testing stage. Lots of bugs. May not be reliable."
"Larry, what have we got to lose. Remember, this is only between you and me. Nobody else knows. And I want it kept that way."
"Boss, this is top secret. There's no audit trail or record of any access I've made to STOP for this purpose. I disabled all monitoring and logging. After all, I built the software."
"Sorry, Larry. I should have known. When can you get me the output from your Artificial Intelligence system runs?"
"In about four days, Sir. Will that be all?"
"Yes, Larry, and, thank you. You know how to arrange our next meeting on this matter. When you're ready. And, remember, it's important."
But Sanderson was gone, mentally that is. He was already working the problem. Eyes on the floor, he stopped pacing and moved sideways through the door of the General's office, bumping into Colonel Robert Travers, aide-de-camp to General Zachary Walker. Sanderson backed off and kept going without any apology.
"Strange guy! I'll never understand how you put up with him, Sir."
"Hi, Bob. Come on in. Yeah, Sanderson is an eccentric all right. But it's his mind that matters to me, not his bearing or social graces."
Colonel Robert Travers was everyt
hing that Larry Sanderson was not. Six foot tall, erect and square-jawed, his penetrating blue eyes looked directly ahead. He still wore his hair in the same crew cut style he was given on the day he joined the army twenty five years ago. An enlisted man, he rose from private to sergeant in one year. In Vietnam he earned a field commission to officer and, at twenty years old, was the youngest company commander in the war. He went back to war in the Gulf again. His battalion spearheaded the rout of Saddam Hussein's army. Colonel Travers was the most decorated soldier in the U.S. Army. He was a true patriot. 'For God and Country' was not a slogan from less complex times to the Colonel. It was the way he led his life. To Colonel Travers, America was God's promised land and in defending his country he also believed he was on God's side in defending the righteous.
"That may be so, Sir. But he still wouldn't last a minute in my command."
"That would be a mistake, Bob. Larry Sanderson is probably one of the most important weapons we have in our defense. He is expanding the capability of STOP. And you know how important STOP has been to the tactical planning and deployment of the Delta Force."
General Shields went on to discuss Sanderson's development work with the Artificial Intelligence Subsystem of STOP. The current generation of the STOP system relied mostly on expert subsystems for its analytical work. Expert systems are based on pre-established rules against which data is processed. They are used in medicine by analysing a patient's symptoms, medical history and lab tests and then suggesting possible diagnoses to the doctor. But this is a long way from Artificial Intelligence, the ability of a system to perform the same kind of functions that characterise human thought. The way the human mind works is still not understood. The design of Artificial Intelligence must enable the computer to analogously duplicate these complex and still mysterious processes. Sanderson had been working for some time on the concept of parallel processing - interlinked and concurrent computer operations. He was now working on the creation of networks of experimental computer chips, called silicon neurons. These chips mimic the data processing functions of brain cells. The transistors in these chips emulate nerve cell membranes to operate at the speed of neurons. Integrated with fuzzy logic software, computers could deal with the area of probability. Fuzzy logic could assign degrees of truthfulness or falsehood to variables derived from the information processed by Artificial Intelligence systems.
General Shields could see the far away look in Colonel Travers' eyes.
"Aw, I'm sorry, Bob. Every time I get into this subject, I get carried away. It's inconsiderate of me."
"No, Sir. It's fascinating. But I'm afraid my mind gets turned on by more tangible subjects. Speaking of which : General Walker asked me to drop in and invite you to our next RAT Force exercise. On Saturday, twelve hundred hours."
"I'd be happy to, Bob. Where?"
"At the Company, in Langley. We're using Dick's special facility."
The Company was the CIA, headquartered in Langley, Virginia. The present Director was Richard Smallwood, a career intelligence officer well respected within the administration
As Travers left, General Shields got up and walked over to his office credenza. He pulled out a drawer that contained a phone connected to a specially secure line.
"Rose, it's Bart Shields. Please put me through to the President if he's available."
"Good morning, General Shields. Please hold for a moment".
"Bart, how are you? What are you up to?" the familiar voice of the President came on the line.
"I'm just fine, Mr. President. I'd like to see you for a half-hour some time today, if that's possible."
"Sure, Bart. Come on over around five thirty."
"Thank you, Mr. President."
As he hung up the phone, Bart Shields reflected on how relaxed and sure of himself the President always sounded. It was comforting to work for a leader who was intelligent and knowledgeable and who didn't scream at the nearest person when he was under pressure.
The White House
The President looked tired and rested, both at the same time. A rare phenomenon. His ruddy face, bright eyes, easy smile and agile movement contrasted with the dark circles and bags under the eyes. It was precisely five thirty. The President kept rigorously to his schedule. He had to. His days often ran beyond midnight.
The President greeted General Bartley Shields with his usual warm handshake and with an arm around the General's shoulder guided him to a corner of the office where they both sat together. The President had another appointment at six. Bart Shields reckoned that half an hour was more than adequate.
"Well Bart, what's on your mind?" said the President in a manner he used to make it easier for people to bring problems to his desk.
Briefly, Bart Shields outlined the discussion with Owen MacDara. He defended MacDara's integrity and filled the President in on MacDara's background.
"Bart, there are many things that Zach Walker and I disagree about. But, there's one thing I'm sure of. Zach's an honorable man."
"Mr. President, I believe that too. But I can't ignore this."
"Bart, you have my full authority to pursue the matter. But it's strictly between you and me at this point. Be discreet."
"Thank you, Mr. President. I'll keep you informed."
"Do that, Bart. Thank you."
The meeting took only twenty minutes. As Bart left he knew that the President had enough to worry about without adding this. But Bart Shields knew he had done the right thing. The spectre of Watergate, Irangate and other coverups was a sickness that he wanted no part of. He would handle this matter in total secrecy. But it would be open to the President from the outset. Bart Shields trusted this President implicitly.
SIX
Langley, Virginia
The Rapid Anti-Terrorist (RAT) Force, known to themselves as the Rat Busters, was the newest and most elite force assembled to fight terrorism. Comprised of former members of the Navy Seals and the U.S. Delta Force anti-terrorist unit, the RAT Force also included people skilled in everything from hostage negotiation to assassination. This was a proactive force as well as a reactive one. They didn't operate like fire-fighters, waiting to assemble and slide down that pole when the next fire erupted. They maintained a hit list of known terrorists and had already successfully assassinated two of them in the past six months. Counter-terrorism was also high on their list of tactical weapons. Infiltrating terrorist groups and compromising terrorist sympathizers by sexual entrapment were important tactics. Captain Ward Dobson, the RAT Force Commander, reported directly to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. The Force served at the pleasure of the President. The Langley exercise started promptly at twelve noon. General Shields arrived at eleven in time to join General Zachary Walker for morning coffee.
"Glad you could make it, Bart."
"Wouldn't have missed it, Zach. This is my reason for existing. Ask the President!"
"Oh, yes. This President has certainly elevated the fight against terrorism to the top of our country's priorities."
"Not just our country. He has encouraged our allies to move this fight high up on their agenda as well. Given all the priorities that these governments are facing, that's a major accomplishment."
"I agree. And he has taken the constraints away. We can now fight fire with fire."
"It's an entirely new ball-game. The terrorists are now into high technology. Sophisticated timing devices. Computers. Communications networks. Electromagnetic transmitters."
"You're right. We're in a catch-up mode. Our game playing needs a major update."
"I'm looking forward to this afternoon's exercise, Zach."
"Travers tells me that your man, Sanderson, is pushing the limits in his development work on STOP. I'd like to see some simulation runs. When you're ready, of course."
This was Bart Shields first meeting with Zachary Walker since that lunch with Owen MacDara at the New York Yacht Club. It only served to reinforce his feelings about Zachary. A good colleague and a fine soldier. There h
ad to be a simple, innocuous explanation for the Korean incident. Bart Shields dismissed these fleeting thoughts as the invited guests assembled for the afternoon's exercise. Experts on terrorism from the United Kingdom, France, Germany and Israel were among those invited.
This game was designed for maximum complexity. The players were assembled into a cast comprised of a negotiating team, landbased and amphibious assault teams, hijacking specialists, terrorist teams, terrorist cause sympathizers, and control teams.
The game played out over three days on two continents and four countries. Co-ordinated terrorist actions commenced at eleven a.m., London time on Day 1 of the game. TWA Flight 17 from Paris to New York had been hijacked by five terrorists, three men and two women, identifying themselves as the Patriots, who ordered the flight diverted to Baghdad. Almost simultaneously, at six in the morning in New York, a massive explosion ripped through the 42nd Street subway station killing eight people and injuring seventeen others. A couple of hours later the casualties would have been much higher.
As these events were taking place, a message was received by all major television, radio, and newspaper offices in Europe and America. It demanded the release of prisoners in France, Israel and the United States and 100 million dollars in reparations for the "exploitation of our oppressed people." It demanded a further 10 million to support " the liberation struggle of our Patriot volunteers." The message set out a timetable for the demands to be met, with a schedule of executions of the airline hostages, commencing with the first two at 1830 hours on Day 1, if the demands had not been met by 1800 hours.
