by Dale Brown
“Not with CID One. He’s down for repairs. You’ll have to take CID Two.”
“There’s no time to pull him out of the exercise,” Jason said. “We need to be airborne with all the gear we can take in less than an hour. Kristen is bringing a jet to Clovis to pick us up.”
“Are you sure about this, J?” Ariadna asked. “This may look like we’re stealing the CID unit. We could end up in prison for this…”
“And we could end up catching a major GAMMA commander and learning a lot about their next attack,” Jason said. “We’ve got to try it. We still have one good power pack. We can’t have everything perfect. I want to move on Kristen’s hot intel. Let’s do it. We’ll load our gear; tell the crew we’ll be ready to go in half an hour.”
“You want to take CID One into battle with just the secondary power pack?” Ariadna asked. “If that one goes out, CID One will turn into a sixteen-million-dollar lawn ornament.”
“We have to chance it,” Jason said. She still looked skeptical. “I’ll contact Jefferson. If he absolutely forbids us to go, we’ll stay. But we’ve got to get moving or we won’t have any options.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, dude,” Ari said as she hurried off to pack some equipment. She loaded up a portable test system, a case of tear gas, and smoke grenades for the grenade launcher backpack—the only weapons she could find that she had ready access to—plus the GUOS drone backpack with six drones and some tools and spare parts to work on the CID unit, and within minutes they were in a truck heading out to Clovis Municipal Airport. Meanwhile, Richter got on his secure cell phone to Sergeant Major Jefferson. The phone conversation was very short: his instructions were simply to “stay put.”
At the airport, a Bombardier Learjet 60 business jet was parked outside the general aviation terminal being fueled. Jason hugged Kristen Skyy and resisted giving her a kiss, but she gave him one anyway. “I thought you couldn’t get us a cool ride, Kristen,” he said.
“You have no idea how many chips I had to cash in to get this,” she responded. “You got the rear baggage compartment for the CID unit—if your dimensions were accurate, it should fit.”
“I won’t be able to work on it in the rear baggage hold, J,” Ari said.
“What’s wrong?” Kristen asked.
“We had a little accident,” Jason said. “It’ll be okay. Hopefully we won’t be going into battle.”
“Is it serious?”
“Could be, but CID has redundant systems so it should be okay.” Jason admitted to himself that his tone wasn’t all that positive; Kristen obviously noticed it but said nothing. “Was it difficult getting clearance to fly with all the security precautions in place?” he asked.
“It took a few phone calls to Washington from the CEO of SATCOM One to get us just from Teterboro to here,” Kristen said, “but it was surprisingly easy to get clearance out of the country. We’re nonstop to Manaus, Brazil, where we’ll meet up with some company agents who’ll take care of customs formalities. We’ll also pick up a PME officer who’ll talk on the radio for us as we head to the rendezvous point.”
“What do you trade for no questions asked at customs?” Jason asked.
“The one thing more valuable than money, booze, gadgets, sex, or drugs: American press credentials,” Kristen said. “Six-month work permits for SATCOM One, unlimited entry and exit into the U.S., and no monthly check-ins with Homeland Security as long as their status can be verified by the network. Government officials will sell them for tens of thousands of dollars each.”
It was a tight fit, but the folded CID unit just fit in the rear baggage compartment. The jet’s cabin was choked with equipment but was still comfortable enough. Kristen had brought a sound engineer and a cameraman, and they had more gear than Richter and Vega. Minutes later they were loaded up, and the pilot received his clearance to depart. “We have to wait,” Jason said after Kristen was told by the pilot they were ready for takeoff.
“We can’t wait, Jason,” Kristen said. “It’ll almost be dawn by the time we get there as it is.”
“We need clearance from our supervisor,” Jason said.
“I thought you were the commanding officer.”
“I’ve never commanded anything more than a four-person laboratory or project office,” Jason said.
“Are we waiting for the same person who gave you your ‘political roadblocks,’ as you put it before?”
“Not quite,” Jason said. “This guy doesn’t believe in ‘political roadblocks’—if there’s a roadblock, he’d prefer to smash it in…”
“Which is what he’s going to do with our heads, once he finds out what we’re doing,” Ariadna said.
“So you’re talking about Special Agent Kelsey DeLaine then?” Kristen asked. Jason and Ari looked surprised—they had been careful not to mention the names of any other Task Force TALON members around Kristen Skyy. “I did a bit more checking and put two and two together. A combined military and FBI task force—very, very cool. DeLaine is one of the Bureau’s up-and-comers, but she’s not known for fieldwork—she’s an administrator.” She paused, looking at Richter carefully. “Interesting pick of persons to lead this task force. I would’ve expected a few more hairy-armed snake-eating ‘Rambo’ types to go after nuclear terrorists.”
“Me too,” Jason admitted. “But we have CID.”
“Why not give my information to Special Agent DeLaine and the rest of the task force? Why not do it as a team?”
“Because she won’t act on it, and they’ll shut down our source of information and most likely throw me in jail for involving the press in a classified government program,” Jason said. “Then the terrorists get away, the task force gets shut down or reshuffled, and no one wins except the bad guys.”
“You don’t trust her to share information or support your task force, is that it?”
“She would probably form an FBI task force herself to go down there and get the bad guys.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Kristen asked. “The goal is to get the terrorists, right? We could use all the help we can get.”
“This might not be the best way to do this,” Jason said, “but we’re going to do it anyway because we have actionable information and the means to respond.”
Ariadna sat beside Jason and lowered her head confidentially toward his. “This would be a good time to head to Fort Polk, J,” Ari said quietly. “We haven’t done anything really wrong yet, and CID One is really broken. Once we step off this plane in Brazil, we’re swimming in deep shit.”
“What do we do with Kristen’s hot tip?” Jason asked. “Should we just ignore information like she says she’s got?”
“We pass it on to DeLaine and the rest of the task force,” Ari said.
“We’re pressing on,” Jason said immediately. “Do the best you can with the replacement power pack and reattaching the door once we reach the target.” Ari looked at him carefully, silently questioning his judgment, but nodded and fell silent.
But Jason could feel her concern, and she knew after years of working together that Ariadna was rarely wrong. He pulled out his secure cellular phone and pressed some buttons.
“Go ahead, Jason,” Kelsey responded moments later.
“I need to talk with you, Kelsey,” Jason said.
“We’re in the middle of a briefing. Can’t it wait?”
“No.”
Kelsey sighed and said something to the others in the room with her. “Okay, go ahead.”
“I saw something on SATCOM One News about a connection between a terror cell in South America and the attack on Kingman City,” Jason said.
“I saw it too,” Kelsey responded after a noticeable pause. “We’re still checking, Jason,” Kelsey went on. “The Bureau’s got nothing to go on yet.”
“Kelsey…” Jason paused a moment, then went on: “Kelsey, I’ve received some information about a group calling itself GAMMA that might have had a…”
“Have you been tapping my computer and
phone conversations, Richter?” Kelsey blurted.
“No, I haven’t,” Jason said.
“Then where did you hear about GAMMA?”
“It’s no secret, Kelsey…”
“Where did you hear about a connection between GAMMA and Kingman City?”
“My source doesn’t want to be revealed just yet,” Jason said, “but I think it’s good information, and I have enough that I think we should act on it. This group GAMMA was involved in Kingman City—how, I’m not sure yet. But my source may know where one of its leaders may be hiding in the next few hours. But they only stay put for a day at the most—we’ve got no time to waste if we want a chance to catch him.”
“How specific is your information?”
“Location down to one or two harbors; time, down to twenty-four hours.”
“One or two harbors?” Kelsey asked incredulously. “It would take hundreds of men to search an area that size, and another hundred to secure it. There’s no way we can…”
“Two CID units along with the Goose drones can do it alone,” Jason said.
“In that short a time span? Impossible.” But as soon as she said that, she knew that it was certainly doable—they had spotted several small targets inside that oil refinery complex during their training exercise without any trouble.
“It’s possible, and we’ve got no time to waste,” Jason urged. “I’ve drawn up a plan. I’d like to take the team and both CID units and go down to South America to…”
“South America! You can’t just blast off to another country with a task force just like that.”
“We can, and we have to. It can’t wait.”
“No way, Jason,” Kelsey said. “If you have actionable information, you need to present it to Chamberlain, Jefferson, and the rest of the task force. We’ll verify the information and draw up a plan.”
“It can’t wait,” Jason said. “In twelve hours it’ll be too late—we need to head down there now. I’ve got a plane standing by that can take us to Brazil tonight.”
“Brazil?” She paused. Then she said, “Where are you now, Richter? Where’s Dr. Vega? You’re not…?”
“I’m sure Jefferson can get us clearance,” Jason said. “C’mon, Kelsey, we need to move on this. Trust me.”
“Who’s your source, Major?”
“I can’t reveal it just yet…”
“So you can’t trust me either, huh?” Kelsey asked accusingly.
Jason hesitated for a few moments, then he continued. “A wellknown international TV correspondent got me the information, and has a high degree of confidence in its accuracy,” he said. “She’s laid the groundwork for us to…”
“She?” Kelsey interrupted. “A well-known female international TV correspondent…?”
“You’d recognize her immediately,” Jason said. “I’ve spoken to her on condition of complete anonymity…”
“You’ve spoken to her? About the task force? About CID…?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever heard of the concept of keeping a secret, Major?” Kelsey asked hotly. “Obviously not, because you seem to violate it every chance you get. What did you tell her about us?”
“She made contact with me and gave me information on this terror group,” Jason said. “She thought we could act on the information. All she wanted in exchange was to get exclusive access to our activities and…”
“She made contact with you, huh…wait a minute, wait a minute…that TV reporter you rescued in Kingman City…Skyy, Kristen Skyy, SATCOM One News. Jesus, Richter, she’ll blow our organization wide open in no time! We’ll have an army of reporters camped outside the front gate and flying overhead from now until doomsday! We won’t be able to go to the latrine without a camera crew taking pictures of it…”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Richter, you’ve blown it big time, and you are in a world of shit,” Kelsey said. “I suggest you get your butts back here immediately and report everything you’ve been up to with this reporter.”
“What about the information on GAMMA?”
“If her information pans out, then we’ll use that source again in the future.”
“But we may miss our opportunity to…”
“That’s the way it goes, Major,” Kelsey said. “Sources are verified by receiving a certain quantity of validated information, and most times their information is validated by something bad happening. Once we take the task force off the base, we expose ourselves to counterespionage forces and a lot of official and unofficial scrutiny. We can’t take that risk until we’re fully operational. We need to…hey, why am I bothering explaining all this to you? You’re a lab rat. You go off and do whatever you feel like doing anyway…”
“I’m a what?” Jason asked angrily. “What did you call me?”
“I meant you’re an engineer, not an operations guy, and you obviously don’t care about operational procedures or protocols,” Kelsey said. “What do you care about security, coordination, or teamwork? Apparently not much. I suggest…no, I order you to report back here immediately!”
“Maybe I should go to Jefferson directly.”
“You just can’t learn to be a team player, can you, Richter?” Kelsey asked acidly. She shrugged. “Go ahead. You’ll look like an ass. He’ll tell you the same thing I’m telling you. Now discontinue all contact with anyone outside the task force and get back here on the double!”
“We’re missing an important opportunity here, Kelsey…”
“I strongly advise you to cut off this contact with Kristen Skyy or whoever you’ve been talking to,” Kelsey said sternly. “The information may be useful and even accurate, but you’re risking the safety and security of everyone on the team. Cut it off.” And she terminated the connection.
Back at the conference room at the training base, Carl Bolton stepped up to Kelsey, scanning her surprised expression. “What in hell did he want? What was all that about Kristen Skyy?”
“He said he had information on a GAMMA leader hiding out in Brazil,” Kelsey said breathlessly, her mind racing.
“GAMMA! Did he say anything about…?”
“He mentioned a connection between GAMMA and Kingman City.”
“Shit! That bastard!” The other task force members looked at Bolton curiously, wondering what he was so riled up about. They didn’t trust either Richter or DeLaine very much yet—Sergeant Major Jefferson was their leader, no matter what the organizational chart said—but they trusted Bolton even less, if at all.
“Carl, you have got to get updates from all our researchers and investigators and get an update on the whereabouts of all the known GAMMA leaders,” Kelsey said. “Richter’s source claims to have one localized.”
“How localized?”
“Pretty damn close. He wants to take the entire team down there to grab him, including both CID units.”
“He’s smoking something,” Bolton said dismissively.
“He might be on his way down there right now with the CID unit he was riding in this morning.”
“Is he crazy?” Bolton exclaimed. “Who authorized that?”
“I don’t think anyone did.”
“Richter has lost his mind,” Bolton said. “Jefferson will strangle him.” He fell silent for a moment; then: “Who in hell could he be talking to? Our sources haven’t come up with squat yet.”
“Call Washington and have Rudy get us an update, fast,” Kelsey said. “If Richter got his hands on something, we need to find out right away. Hit up our sources in SATCOM One in New York and Washington. If they won’t talk, threaten to arrest them.” Bolton pulled out his secure cell phone and made the call. “And one more thing: have someone keep an eye on Richter. If he tries to leave the base, notify Sergeant Major Jefferson and us right away.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” Bolton said.
“What did she say?” Ariadna asked Jason when he hung up the phone.
“She said get our butts back to the trainin
g area.”
“Did you tell her you’re working with Kristen Skyy and SATCOM One News?”
“Not by name, but she guessed who it was.”
“What about Jefferson?”
“He said ‘stay put.’ ”
“We’re in deep, deep dog doo, J,” Ari said seriously. “We’ll be thrown off this task force so fast it’ll make your head spin. We need to head back to the base right now and forget all this.”
“Maybe that’s what we should be doing, Ari, but I still feel we need to be moving on Kristen’s information,” Jason said. They noticed a blue Air Force sedan with flashing yellow lights roaring up the street toward the general aviation terminal—followed by a Security Forces Humvee. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
“Gee, I wonder where we’ll be sleeping tonight—in a jungle in Brazil chasing down terrorists, or in a federal prison cell?” Ariadna asked absently. “And I wonder which would be worse?”
Richmond, California
That same time
After all the delays and endless paperwork, the job of unloading the cargo vessel King Zoser was finally underway, with a long line of flat-bed trailers waiting to pick up the oil-derrick parts. One by one, massive overhead Takref/Gresse container cranes picked up the parts and pipes and placed them on the trailers, where armies of workers secured the parts to the trailers with chains. As they worked, U.S. Customs Service inspectors, augmented with Army National Guard soldiers with military working dogs, looked on, occasionally asking to look inside the pipes or recheck a serial number.
Captain Yusuf Gemici looked and felt immensely relieved as he watched Boroshev’s heavy equipment being loaded aboard the trailers. American National Guard troops watched the pumps as they were chained in place, but they made no move to check them. No sign of any law-enforcement activity whatsoever, just normal, albeit heightened, port security and customs scrutiny. He couldn’t wait to get on with his voyage and…
Just then, a U.S. Customs Service officer who was sitting in a Humvee nearby stepped out of his vehicle, said a few words on a walkie-talkie, stepped quickly over to the pumps being chained onto the trailer, and started examining the lead tamper-evident seals on the safety wires on the sealed flanges. What in hell…they went to precisely the pump that had Boroshev’s mysterious delivery in it! Gemici fished out his cigarettes and lit one up to help steady his nerves…but as he looked away, out the port side of the ship toward the west into San Pablo Bay, he saw the Coast Guard patrol boat Stingray approaching them, just a few hundred meters away now, with the skipper watching him through binoculars and with two Coast Guardsmen on deck with M-16 assault rifles. Another customs service interceptor speedboat was a bit further north, officers lining the rails on both sides watching carefully for any sign of anyone trying to jump overboard and escape.
