“Kluver…”
“Bucy. It’s caused by lesions in the amygdala that cause hyper aggression and sexuality.”
“Hyper…”
“The girl was my touch,” Lorenzo chimed in. “The Lieutenant told me you were afraid of women.”
“I-I’m not afraid of women.”
Peter put his hand on Carl’s shoulder. “Carl, they are the perfect soldiers. They don’t have to be fed, there’s no dehydration, and they’re relentless. All you have to do is drop several dozen of these suckers into a cave and they’ll swarm any terrorist hideout.”
Carl sat back down in his seat. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. This was all a little too much.
“So you’re telling me that the United States Army is using zombies to smoke terrorists out of caves? It sounds like a bad sci-fi movie.”
“What gave you the idea to cross the maze on top?”
Carl wasn’t sure who asked the question. It was Lockwood. In fact, it was the first thing the man said since they entered the debriefing room.
“Pete and I used to go to these corn mazes every autumn growing up. One we went to had two crosswalks overlooking the maze, giving you a chance to get your bearings and figure out the pattern. In this case, I figured out in the maze that it was a fractal pattern. But when I got up top, I saw I was close enough to the edge of the maze, so I hopped over.”
Lockwood’s stoic expression gave way to something else. If Carl wasn’t mistaken, he would’ve sworn the man was impressed.
Peter smiled in recognition. “Yeah, I remember that maze. Good thinking, bro. See, I told you guys he was smart.”
The rest of the day Carl was given a full tour of the program. He was introduced to Farrow, who demonstrated the technology and the role of a SWEEPER. Lockwood then introduced him to the weapons.
They returned to the debriefing room where the rest of the program was explained to him. They described the discoveries and progress made over months of training exercises: the ID squads and multiple AI kill switches, the pigs, the dogs, formations, extraction, and the humpers.
The next day Carl was integrated into his first training exercise. He swung along the side of the target structure scanning the inside and tracking the ID, confirming the neutralization of targets.
He was a quick learner and fell right into where the platoon was at in their progress. His role was simple but crucial, and he was thankful that he never had to get too close to any of the ID.
They gave him the creeps, but that was the point. It wasn’t just their heartiness and their ability to swarm the enemy. They induced terror, which was intended to disorient the targets making them easier to catch. The neutralization wasn’t very humane, but then again, they were terrorists.
Nevertheless, Carl was happy to be with his brother, and he was quite fascinated with the technology. He meshed well with Farrow and fed him plenty of ideas, many of which were utilized. He felt part of an important effort in combating terrorists.
After what they did to his poor mother, he welcomed any new application that would allow them to reach the terrorists sitting snugly in the depths of their hiding spots, confident that authorities would never reach them. He relished the prospect of testing the ID out.
He was introduced to Major Lewis, who only regarded him tangentially, and of course, Captain London.
“I believe you two have already met,” Peter teased.
Captain London shot Peter a dirty look. “Hello, Carl.”
Carl’s heart was in his throat.
“Say hello, Carl,” Peter needled.
“Hello, C-Captain London.”
She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Maybe it was the uniform.
“Please, everyone calls me Fiona or Doc. I’m available for a session any time you want to talk. Most of the soldiers in the ID Program come to visit at some point.”
“I can see why.”
Captain London blushed at the comment as Peter stood by grinning like a wise ass.
“Oh, no, I mean because of the zombies,” Carl recovered.
“The ID,” she corrected.
“Yes, the ID.”
“Your brother has sessions regularly.”
“I’m not surprised. I think he was dropped on his head as a baby. Repeatedly.”
She barely acknowledged the joke. It was if she was trying too hard to be professional. Peter noticed.
To be honest, Carl was different from what she remembered. He was more filled out, and he carried himself a little more confidently, even if he was still bashful.
“Well, welcome to Fort Bliss, Carl.”
“Thanks, Fiona.”
She shot Peter some daggers as she walked away. Peter stood next to Carl. “Hate to see her go, but you love to watch her leave.”
Carl shoved him and walked in the other direction towards the barracks.
Peter enjoyed having his brother there. Both had gone through an awful lot, and they needed each other. Besides, he could keep an eye on him, but he would never admit that to anyone who asked.
Chapter 11
August 23
18:00
Peter’s com unit was flashing. He touched the screen and Major Lewis’ face appeared on screen. His expression had more gravity than usual, which was saying a lot.
“Lieutenant, you and Sergeant Lorenzo report to the debriefing room on the airfield immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Peter put on his headgear and went to find Lorenzo, but Lorenzo found him first.
“You get the message, Lieutenant?”
Peter nodded. They left the barracks in a hurry.
Carl took notice of their abrupt exit. Something was up. Peter and Lorenzo were leaving without the platoon.
When Peter and Lorenzo reached the debriefing room, Major Lewis was seated at his desk, and Lockwood was already seated. They saluted the Major and took their seats.
Major Lewis touched the screen on his Cybernetic Digital Organizer clipboard, and it lit up.
“Our forces have pursued the Navajas into Xcaret, Mexico, where it is believed that they are operating out of a rather large cenote on the outskirts of a popular tourist area.”
He touched the screen of his clipboard and a map of Xcaret projected on the screen behind him.
“As you can see, the location of the cenote is in immediate proximity to three hotels and a wildlife park, which is why our forces cannot engage in traditional fashion. The Navajas have rendezvoused with Order for International Liberation, who is believed to be serving as security detail for the operation.”
He touched the screen again and several satellite photos of Navajas and O.I.L. flashed up on the wall behind him.
“They are unaware that we have located their position, so we have the element of surprise. All the more reason why your detail is perfect for this operation. Minimum gunfire. Just let the ID do what they do best.”
“What about the Mexican government?” Peter asked. “If they could evacuate the nearby hotels, it would free us up.”
“Too risky,” Major Lewis stated. “An evacuation of the three hotels would likely tip off the Navajas that their location has been compromised.”
Peter nodded his understanding. Major Lewis continued. “You will take your platoon in with four Black Hawks. You’ll be armed with a combination of the electronic ignition shotguns and automatic weapons to cover the ID and address any flank attacks.”
He touched his clipboard screen again and coordinates appeared on the map.
“You will be dropped here under the cover of night, on the outskirts of the tourist area. You will make your way to the drop site here…”
He cued up more coordinates.
“…where three Chinooks will deliver three standard forty-foot shipping crates filled with a total of ninety ID, thirty per crate.”
He pointed on the screen behind him.
“You will cross the terrain with the ID and locate the cenote. You will then funne
l the ID into the cenote, and they will neutralize the targets. A small fleet of Blackhawks with smaller crates as sling load will lower the crates into the cenote, and you will begin extraction.”
Peter looked at Lorenzo excitedly. This was the first mission of the Insidious Drone platoon. They had been training for this very moment for months.
“There’s one complication…”
All attention was back on Major Lewis.
“In twenty-four hours, there’s going to be a hurricane entering the region, a real nasty one. They’re talking a possible category four. Drop-off, neutralization, and extraction have to occur well within this time window. If we wait till after the storm has passed, the Navajas and their O.I.L. escort will have likely relocated, slipping through our fingers.”
“Why isn’t the Mexican government evacuating the hotels?” Peter asked.
“They’ve evacuated Cancun, but they figure the elevation and topography of Xcaret will mitigate any threats from the storm. Each hotel has a concrete convention center where guests will be moved to for shelter-in-place.”
Major Lewis turned off his clipboard.
“This will be the first mission of the ID Program. This is what you’ve been training for. Sergeant Lockwood will accompany you as an observer. Any questions?”
Peter and Lorenzo shook their heads.
“Assemble the platoon in Hangar Two. You mobilize in one hour. Good luck, gentleman.”
Peter, Lorenzo, and Lockwood stepped smartly out of the debriefing room to assemble the men.
“Shit, Pete. This is it,” Lorenzo said excitedly.
“I know. Hard to believe, but this day had to come sometime. And Navajas and Order for International Liberation in the same location. It’s like Christmas in August.”
“We do this right and we’ll change the face of the war on terror,” Lockwood said with no small degree of import.
***
20:00
The whirring of the blades spun by twin GE T700-GE-701C engines chopping through the night air had a calming effect on Peter, like white noise.
They were almost at the drop-off point, and he was going over all of his training in his head. It was like the locker room right before the championship game, and he was reviewing all of their plays.
He wondered how Carl was doing in another Black Hawk with the two other SWEEPERS and two squads. He was proud that he was able to arrange his brother’s assignment to this unit.
It sure beat urban combat in Pakistan or Afghanistan. All Carl had to do was track the ID from above the cenote under the cover of his own squad.
Peter thought of his friend, Delroy Apone and his men that were slaughtered at the hands of the ruthless Navajas. He wondered what Apone would have thought about the ID and their first mission.
He knew he would make Apone proud. He wished he could have told Molly. He wished he could have told her that he was going to hunt down and kill the sons-of-bitches who murdered her husband in cold blood.
However, the mission and all of the activities of the ID Program were strictly classified. Cold, undead justice was coming to those Navajas bastards, and for the moment, that was enough.
Carl sat next to the other two SWEEPERS in his Black Hawk. He was admiring the instruments of the gun ship: the threat warning system, the infrared jammers, and the radar warning receiver.
He never thought he would one day be sitting in a Black Hawk helicopter on the way to Mexico. His parents never went anywhere exotic. Who could afford it in this economy?
His thoughts predictably and invariably drifted to his mother. His poor mother. Although he knew she’d disapprove, he was proud that he was going to neutralize a security detail of O.I.L. He didn’t have to wait for the Middle East after all. Those bastards came to him and he had something for them.
He thought back to his second day at Fort Bliss. He and his brother were in the barracks talking. Peter had told him about Tijuana.
‘Carl, somebody tipped the Navajas off that we were coming.’
‘What happened, Pete?’
‘We stormed a storefront at dawn. It was a damned trap. Snipers drove us into the store. They bottlenecked us inside using the aisles. There were a few of us left. I did what I could to stall for time. They took us to the outskirts and they executed my men in front of me. My friend, Delroy Apone, they shot him in the head like he was nothing.’
‘How did you get out?’
‘I was lucky, Carl. Very lucky. I managed to fight off the Navajas. I crossed into town, and they pursued me. I stumbled into an alley, and a prostitute took me in. A prostitute of all people. I don’t know why, but she protected me. Her name was Lucita.’
‘And that’s why you joined the ID Program?’
‘Major Lewis and Captain London thought I should get back on the horse. That I would be no good at all if I didn’t get back in the game.’
Carl remembered the conversation. He saw the look in his big brother’s eye. He knew how he felt. They both had vengeance on their mind, and if all went well, they would get it.
The helicopters stopped in a clearing and the platoon hopped out. The copters quickly flew away, and Peter looked at his watch. They had a little less than twenty-two hours.
He called Lorenzo over. “Vee formation. Tell the flanks to look alive. We make our way over to the ID drop coordinates.”
Lorenzo nodded. He turned to the men and barked the orders. They got into formation, the SWEEPERS in the rear, and they began to make their way to the ID drop coordinates.
They crossed the terrain, cutting through dense vegetation. It was around eighty degrees, but there was a breeze. The suits functioned well to keep them cool, but the air was humid and electric with the approach of the massive hurricane careening in their direction.
They crept through the lush flora at a steady pace. Deer lurked stealthily, and iguanas rested under rocks absorbing the heat from the day as they slumbered.
Large trees with tangles of exposed roots like thick fingers probing the soil loomed over them, as palms gently brushed their arms and shins.
Peter halted by a pile of limestone and put up a closed fist, signaling for the platoon to halt. He consulted his Multi-tasker, which indicated that they were right by the drop zone.
It was almost dawn, and in the near distance, the hum of the Chinooks came. But to Peter’s surprise, they remained in the distance.
“What’s wrong?” Lorenzo whispered to Peter.
Peter was looking at his Multi-tasker. “The drop coordinates changed.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. But they were definitely modified.”
The map on his Multi-tasker indicated that one shipping crate was deposited nearby, only a few clicks away, but the other two were dropped at quite a distance away.
“This drop site may have been compromised,” Peter whispered. “Instruct the men to fall back.”
Lorenzo ordered the men, and they receded back into the flora. Peter received satellite pictures on his Multi-tasker. There was a squad of O.I.L. patrolling in the vicinity.
Lorenzo saw the satellite maps and the location of the squad. Peter had to make a quick decision. He signaled to Lockwood to come over.
“Lockwood, take two squads and a SWEEPER to locate the most distant two crates. When you’ve located them, send the coordinates back to HQ for extraction. Then establish a perimeter and wait.”
Lockwood nodded.
“We’re only using one crate?” Lorenzo asked. “That’s only thirty ID.”
“There’s no time,” Peter stated. “The other two crates are too far away. The thirty ID will have to do. The targets are only a squad of O.I.L. and several Navajas.”
Lorenzo nodded. As Lockwood took his squads and SWEEPER, Lorenzo ordered the troops into formation, and they made for the closest crate.
And just in time. The Order for International Liberation security detail passed close to the original drop coordinates, which would have ensured traditional
engagement. The ruckus would have alerted the nearby Navajas, and they would have missed their opportunity.
Dawn broke and the temperature was beginning to rise. As they trekked silently toward the closest crate, Peter noticed the silence. It was as if the wildlife knew a storm was coming and had taken refuge. The dogs were even getting antsy.
The relocation of the drop coordinates and the separation of the drops cost them valuable time, as did their evasion of the roving security detail.
As they grew close to the coordinates of the new crate, Peter received regular updates on his Multi-tasker via satellite on the position of the squad of unfriendlies.
The SWEEPERS, being primarily field technicians, were in the center of the formation. Carl crept through the vegetation with his squad, feeling particularly vulnerable given his role.
He didn’t expect to be running from the enemy. He was supposed to track them as they were being eaten to confirm the kills. However, it appeared that, for the moment, they were the ones being tracked.
There was no evidence that the enemy had detected their presence at all. Nevertheless, if they weren’t careful in evading detection, the tables would be turned.
After some time they came upon the nearest crate. They cleared the area. Fortunately, the crate hadn’t been discovered. They set up a reverse Vee formation in front of the crate doors.
Peter had to move fast, because the roving patrol was in the vicinity. This forced him to make another decision. If he pushed toward the cenote, the roving patrol might discover the crate and raise the alarm. But if he dealt with the patrol, it would likely involve combat, which would once again raise the alarm.
He called Lorenzo over.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m concerned about this patrol.”
“So what are we going to do?”
“I have an idea…”
The patrol came to the edge of a clearing and saw a large, rectangular metal crate sitting in the center. The leader radioed in what they found. They scanned the area and saw nothing. They spread out around the edge of the clearing, surrounding the metal box.
I Am Automaton Page 16
