Highest Order

by David Archer

  “Noah, you’ll be given the file listing all of the targets,” Allison said. “As I mentioned a moment ago, it’s probably going to be more than you can handle alone, and will require at least three of you to be active. You, Marco, and Jenny will be the strike team, with Sarah and Neil as your support. Sarah, traffic laws there are very similar to those in the States, so you shouldn’t have any problems.”

  “Any special equipment we should take with us?” Noah asked.

  “Feel free to visit Wally and get whatever you think you might need. Remember that a lot of the equipment he provides is still highly classified, so be certain it doesn’t get left behind.” She turned and looked at Jefferson. “Donald, anything else?”

  “Not at this moment,” he said. “I need you all to come back this afternoon for ID kits. I just haven’t had time to put them together yet. While we sort of knew this was coming, it’s come to a head about a week earlier than we actually expected. Our intelligence people were never able to get the actual date of the secession, so it caught us a bit off guard this morning.”

  “I’m just curious,” Neil said, “but what’s the global political climate on this? Who’s happy and who’s upset?”

  “To be honest,” Jefferson replied, “I don’t think any country is happy about this. Seeing Algeria split this way could actually trigger similar divisions in a few other countries. Chad, Nigeria, and Libya are actually possibilities, and the Sudan is pretty much on the verge of civil war all the time. If West Algeria were to get away with this, I’m afraid we might see a lot of new countries on the African continent. Hell, we might see a few on North America. There are parts of California that are trying to secede and become a separate state, and Texas is constantly threatening to break off from the U.S.A.”

  “Then, where does Russia stand on it? Do they have a lot to lose if this happens?”

  “Not strategically, but it could hurt them economically. They’ve long been a major customer of the iron ore that comes out of Algeria, and most of that would be controlled by West Algeria. It would actually be a perfect time to look for better prices from other buyers, which could even include the U.S.A. or the U.K. If they do, the Kremlin isn’t going to be happy.”

  “Okay,” Neil said. “I was just curious. I know they aren’t real fond of us, and I sure would hate to end up on their radar.”

  “Then, unless you have any questions,” Allison said, “I think you should start making your preparations. Remember to come by this afternoon—three o’clock, Donald? Okay, around three, to pick up your ID kits. We’ll have the details on your flight by then, as well. It’ll be a diplomatic flight, so you can take along whatever equipment you decide you need.”

  The newly mingled team rose from their seats and left the conference room, riding the elevator down together to the garage level.

  “Imagine,” Neil said, “how surprised I was when Allison called me this morning and told me to report for briefing and to bring Jenny with me. I’m trying to figure out how she knew we were together.”

  “Because we’re almost always together,” Jenny said with a giggle. “It’s not like it’s a big secret, and we couldn’t keep it secret if we wanted to. I’m pretty sure everybody notices that we hold hands a lot, don’t you think?”

  “Do you think I pay attention? I could care less what anybody thinks. I’m happy and you’re happy, and that’s all that matters to me.”

  “Personally,” Marco said, “I think the Dragon Lady has cameras hidden in all of our houses. She always knows when Renée spends the night. Doesn’t bother me all that much, but Renée gets a little spooked by it now and then.”

  Neil shook his head. “Nope, no cameras. I check periodically, at my place, at Noah’s and now I check at Jenny’s. Believe me, if they were there, I’d find them. I just think she’s that good at predicting what we might do, that’s the only way I can explain it.”

  They got into their cars and left the garage, heading out to R&D. Wally, the mad genius who ran the research and development department, was delighted when they came through the door. He had left standing orders with the front desk to notify him the moment Camelot came in, and he had a comical habit of running down the hall as soon as he got the call.

  This day was no exception. His running footsteps could be heard almost half a minute before he came sliding around the corner into the lobby. He hurried up to Noah and shook his hand.

  “Noah!” Wally said. “I was beginning to think you forgot where we were. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

  “That’s because he’s been spending time with me,” Sarah said. “You know, his wife? How have you been, Wally?”

  “Doing good, doing good,” he said. “Got some fantastic new toys to show you. Allison told me you’re headed out for a mission, but she didn’t have the details. What are you up to?”

  “We’re going to Algeria,” Noah said. “Somebody wants to turn the new president of West Algeria into a martyr, and I guess our president doesn’t want that to happen. Allison said they were expecting to have a little more time to plan for this, but the sudden announcement this morning of West Algeria’s secession from its mother country caught them off guard.”

  “Algeria,” Wally said, almost with awe. “Lots of desert there, isn’t there? It’s going to be hot and miserable. Boy, oh boy, have I got some things to show you. Come on, follow me.”

  With Wally almost skipping along in front of them, they followed him down one hallway and turned into another. He led them to a particular door and then through it, and they saw a couple of people working over what looked like sewing machines.

  “This is something that Dennis, here, came up with,” Wally said, pointing at a young man. “Dennis, I’m going to let you explain it. These folks are Team Camelot, and they’re about to be headed into the desert, so this is perfect timing.”

  Dennis grinned and got off the stool he was sitting on, walking over to extend a hand to Noah, and then to each of the others. “I’m delighted to meet you,” he said. “I’ve heard an awful lot about you.” They all shook hands with him and then followed him to the bench he had been working at.

  There was a t-shirt laying on the bench. “This is a new fabric we developed here,” Dennis said. “It’s thin, but has some amazing absorption and evaporation properties that mean it will keep the wearer cool even in the hottest weather. It’s based on work done at Stanford University, but we take that a few steps up the ladder from what they came up with. Basically, what the fabric does is block visible light so that your body won’t absorb heat from the sun, but it also is transparent to infrared light. Now, infrared radiation, or infrared light, is how we lose heat from our bodies. It’s dissipated out into the air as infrared radiation. By being transparent to infrared but opaque to visible light, we managed to release the built-up body heat you’ve already got, while preventing you from gaining more through sunlight. Added to this is a capillary action that actually wicks the moisture when you sweat away from your body, so that it can be released into the air. Drawing that moisture off dissipates even more heat, so that even when the sun is beating down on you and it’s a hundred and fifteen degrees in the desert, just wearing this fabric will make you feel like you’re sitting in air conditioning.”

  Noah’s eyebrows actually rose a half-inch. “Is there any kind of limitation on how it can be used? What types of clothing, that sort of thing?”

  “Not really a limit,” Dennis said. “As long as it’s dyed in light colors, it should remain pretty effective.”

  “I’m thinking of desert clothing. Our mission is going to be into the deserts of Algeria, and we’ll need to fit into the local culture. I’m thinking khakis, long-sleeve shirts, short-sleeved shirts, underclothing. Could several pieces be put together for each of us quickly?”

  Wally stepped up. “That would be our costuming department,” he said. “They’ve already got an ample supply of the fabric, Dennis just likes to keep trying to improve it. We’ll talk to Martha
down there in costuming in just a bit, I know she’s got all your sizes on file.”

  “Excellent,” Noah said. He turned to Dennis and shook his hand again. “Great work, thank you.”

  The young man beamed as Noah and the rest of them followed Wally out the door. He turned to the other man in the room, who simply grinned and shook his head.

  “He puts his pants on the same way we do, Junior,” the older man said.

  Out in the hallway, Wally turned to Noah again. “So, what other kind of things do you think you might need? What about weapons, for instance?”

  “I want eight of your smart guns,” Noah said, referring to the little computerized, tripod-mounted, brick-shaped guns that used facial recognition technology to watch for specific targets and then fired with deadly precision. “I want a pair of M107s in fifty caliber, two Miktor MGL grenade launchers with two dozen HE rounds, and five MAC 11s. Give me four loaded magazines for each of the MACs.”

  Wally’s eyes were wide. “Holy cow,” he said. “No problem, I just wasn’t expecting you to have a list all ready to go. I’m kind of impressed.”

  “Seriously?” Neil asked. “You’re surprised? This is Noah you’re talking to, remember?”

  Wally chuckled. “Good point, good point,” he said. “Okay, we’ve got all of that. And, by the way, we’ve made some improvements to the smart guns. They now have built-in sound and flash suppressors, so they’re about as quiet as they can possibly be. Put them in the right locations, and no one will know where the shots came from. What else?”

  “A couple of aerial surveillance drones. High-resolution, long-range cameras, drones that can stay up high and out of earshot while still giving me a good look at what’s going on on the ground.”

  “Got just the things. Small, quiet, a two hour flight time. Facial recognition follow-me system that can track a person through a crowd. That sort of thing you’re looking for?”

  Noah glanced at Neil, who was nodding and smiling. “That’ll work,” he said. “How soon can you have it all ready?”

  Wally shrugged. “Let’s go see Martha, first, then work on the rest of it.”

  Letting Martha take measurements to make sure they were up-to-date took only a few minutes, and they were assured the clothes would be ready by the following afternoon. When they finished there, Wally took them to the armory and asked one of the technicians to show them the improvements to the smart guns.

  “They’re basically the same as they were the last time you used them,” the technician said. “We only added a few little features. You see the sound suppressor, it looks like somebody stuck a big beer can on the end of the gun? It uses a combination of wakes and baffles to muffle the sound.” He picked up one of the guns and aimed it at a target down the range, then pressed the manual fire button. There was a slight phhzt sound, but nothing that any of them would normally associate with the firing of a gun. “One of the things that makes it so quiet is that the ammunition is subsonic. It doesn’t travel quite as fast as the speed of sound, but that also limits its range. While the targeting computer is very precise, the maximum effective range of this gun is only about two hundred yards. Any further than that, and bullet drop is going to start interfering.”

  “Okay, I can work with that,” Noah said. “What else is new?”

  “Two other little things. We added the ability for the guns to communicate with each other, so they all know which targets are still at large. And they can notify you, via a smartphone app, each time they fire. Each one will tell you when it fired, at which target, and the results of the shot, such as whether the target was hit, or if the target managed to run away. The second feature is an automatic self-destruct. These new models are built on a frame made of magnesium, and we built in an electronic igniter. If it gets the self-destruct signal, which can be through the same app or by setting it to activate at a specific time or after all targets have been taken out, there won’t be anything left of that gun but slag five minutes later. The circuitry will be melted beyond any possible recognition, the camera will look like a melted decoration of some sort, and any remaining ammunition will have exploded. No one is going to figure out anything other than that it was some kind of a gun at one time or another. Wally wanted that, just because we don’t really want any of our allies or enemies getting their hands on this toy.”

  Noah looked at the technician and took out the gun. “Perfect,” he said.

  Chapter TWO

  “Noah,” Jefferson said when they returned for their ID kits, “you’ll be going as James McConnell, and your credentials identify you as having formerly been the commercial attaché at our embassy in Venezuela. Officially, you are there to meet with President Abimbola to discuss the possibility of placing an embassy in Tindouf. Sarah will be Elizabeth Roth, your assistant. Neil, your identity is Garrett Stevens, and you are the IT technician. Jenny, you’ll be going as Neil’s assistant, Connie Marchand. Marco, you are the only one among you who speaks French, which is a common language throughout Algeria, so you will serve as interpreter. You will be Pierre Lafontaine, child of French immigrants to America who grew up in Baton Rouge. That should account for the slightly Cajun accent in your French.”

  “Mais, oui,” Marco said. “Y’all do know my French is pretty rusty, right?”

  “You’ll get some practice for the next couple of days,” Allison said. “You’re going out to Character Development to work with Lisette Charpentier. She’s our expert on French and French accents. Report to her tomorrow morning at eight a.m.”

  “Okay, question,” Jenny said. “While my boyfriend may be a computer genius, I have trouble checking my Facebook on anything but my phone. How am I supposed to pass myself off as his assistant?”

  Jefferson chuckled. “Just look at him the way you always do,” he said. “Nobody will expect you to know much about computers, they’ll figure he pulled strings to get you the job.”

  Jenny pretended to look shocked, but Allison smiled. “Sadly, he’s right,” she said. “It’s amazing how often a secretary or assistant to someone in foreign service turns out to be nothing more than a secret lover. Just about everyone involved in politics will naturally think that’s what you’re doing there, anyway, so we might as well play on it.”

  Jenny closed her mouth and shrugged. “Works for me.”

  “Here are your ID kits,” Jefferson said, passing out large envelopes, “along with back stories and target files. Be sure to look over your back stories, so that you can answer questions if you need to. All of the information in the back stories is already included in the files that their intelligence service will receive as part of their due diligence in checking you out, so you might need to prove yourselves a bit. Just don’t let them trip you up; if they ask about a place you wouldn’t know, don’t try to fake it. The Algerians learned a lot from the French, whose idea of espionage is to always try to force the other fellow into a mistake.”

  Noah was looking through the wallet and papers he had been handed. “All right,” he said. “When do we leave?”

  “Six p.m.,” Allison said, “the day after tomorrow. That gives Marco two days to work on his French with Lisette. He’ll be your interpreter when you need one, because just about everyone over there speaks French, even though Arabic and Berber are the official languages. Anyone you’ll need to speak to in the government will understand and speak fluent French.”

  “Our clothes will be ready tomorrow evening,” Noah said. “Since we’re traveling on a diplomatic flight, Wally is sending our weapons along with us. Do we anticipate any problems at Tindouf?”

  “No,” Jefferson replied. “Abimbola knows and respects our Algerian ambassador, Daniel Ford. Daniel spoke with him by telephone a few hours after the broadcast this morning, and received assurance that you will be treated as a diplomatic envoy of the United States. That was last night, to them, but our State Department will also be speaking with Abimbola this evening, during his morning. They’ll make certain of your diplomati
c status.”

  “Then I guess we’re all set,” Noah said. “Is there anything you want the rest of us to do while Marco is taking French lessons?”

  “Just study your back stories,” Allison said, “and the list of diplomatic concessions you’re going to ask for. You probably will only have a couple of hours with Abimbola, so it shouldn’t interfere greatly with your actual mission. Pay close attention to the list, because there are a few concessions we actually want in the event this secession doesn’t fail. Mostly just access to a few hundred acres of desert, a strategic place for a drone base. We’ve already got one in southern Algeria, but another in Tindouf province would be beneficial. The State Department said to make sure we get that locked in before you make any other agreements.”

  Noah nodded. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, before I forget,” Jefferson said. “The cell phones in your kits are satellite phones. They won’t look out of place, because almost every diplomat in that region carries one. That’s because they don’t have nearly as many cell towers as they need, so a direct connection to satellite is necessary. The reason I’m pointing it out to you is because you will need them if you need to communicate while you’re in the desert. You’ll also find in each of them a contact identified as Prudence Mays. Prudence is the CIA station chief in Tindouf. Her cover is manager of a charitable organization that works with the Sahrawi refugees; that will come in handy, because she can move through the refugee camps without anyone paying much attention to her, or anyone with her. CIA simply asks that we try not to out her, because she’s invaluable over there.”

  “We’ll remember that,” Noah said. “For now, I think we’re all going to go and get some dinner. Would you care to join us?”

  Both Allison and Donald Jefferson seemed surprised at the invitation. “Where have you got in mind?” Allison asked.