"It took a direct order from the president to get this folder released to you. I was emphatically told not to look at it and that I would be subject to testing and verification later to assure I had not. She had to issue another finding, to upgrade your security clearance without a lengthy investigation. They still didn't want to release it without a guard to accompany it, until you had finished reading it. If you finish reading it, there will a lady from State meeting you, who you can give it to when you land in Hawaii. She's the only one you'll meet you can unload it on."
Gunny nodded easy agreement. Too easy for Yoder's comfort. Yoder launched into a briefing on April's visit, including a video of the airport fiasco, the CNN interview at lunch with Lin, the running scene at the beach and the final CNN interview right up to the lights out and then the video off her public eye she had shared with the President. He also showed an aerial view of her new home.
"Homeland boys bit off a bit more than they could chew, didn't they?" was the extent of his comment on the gun fight, ignoring the naval involvement.
"So, as you can see, she is heavily augmented with genetic modification," Yoder stated, in case he hadn't figured it out.
"Very likely, yes," he agreed. "I recognize her from the news a year, year and a half ago. I forget the story but recognize the face. I have seen three people before as fast as her and I am sure they were all natural humans, but it's very rare. I agree she has had mods to maximize her reactions and possibly ultimate strength and metabolism, but they all fall within the extreme range you find in natural humans. As far as I know nobody is changing the basic structures of the body they have to work with, though I don't doubt they will."
That surprised Yoder and he looked thoughtful, "That makes sense to me. You still have the limits of the basic mechanism to work with. But where did you personally see such frighteningly fast people?"
"Two of them were the Champion and runner up, at the National Combat Pistol competition. I have a picture of one of them engaging a group of three pop up targets. One target is driven over almost down, the second is pushed back falling and the man is holding the weapon aimed on the third with the trigger depressed waiting for the pistol to cycle shut so it can fire. The empty cases from the first two shots are still climbing in the air in the pic. The third fellow was a Fleet Champ boxer. He was so fast he'd hit the other fellow and your eye couldn't follow it. Even when you slowed it down on the video it still looked fast in slow motion. In life you'd see him twitch and the other fellow would be falling down. Your eye would catch the start and finish of the motion but the middle action was too fast to register on your brain. Scary people," he agreed, but failed to mention he'd placed third in the combat pistol competition.
"Yes," he looked thoughtful, but didn't pursue it. "There's a driver waiting for you. The President emphasized you were to be give any resources. After seeing the videos is there anything else you need before getting underway?"
"Sir, The personal information is going to be valuable," he said touching the folders. "If it can be made available, I'd like information on Satos' family and any household help they have. Especially this daughter that is a reporter and her boss. I realize it may be as sensitive as Satos' bio, but I'd very much like a brief on Harrison, who tried to arrest her."
"About that house she just bought, I'd like to see a team put it under an external observation, so nobody can sneak in and leave any surprises, or set an ambush. They will need my com address. I'd like a set of Hawaiian language lessons sent to my pad please. I can see Kalaeloa is out of commission, but if there are any other fields on the Island that can stand tactical aircraft at runway alert, I'd appreciate an address to call. I'd like them ordered ahead of time to accept mission tasking from me. It would be a huge help, if the alert crew had appropriate ordnance hung for close in ground support. I have a standard designator."
"I'd also like an address that I can call up to get whatever satellite image support is available. Those items would still not put me on a par with the support this young woman seems to have, on an everyday basis, but it would narrow the gap. I'd hate to be in the position of begging her assistance. If they could have some breakfast sandwiches and coffee on the plane, that would be very nice."
"You certainly are not shy when somebody hands you a blank check Master Sergeant," Yoder told him, with raised eyebrows at his audacity. "I'll see what I can do and have everything catch up to you on your plane." He stood up to dismiss him and went beyond to offer his hand. Gunny appreciated that.
The plane they delivered him to was a pretty little thing. White with Air Force markings instead of Navy. It was a six seat Rutan-Embraer with the adjustable spread V tail and the thin blade of a canard up front, that folded back flush to the fuselage at speed. The main wings didn't fold back. Instead they retracted to a stub and changed geometry radically. That meant no room for tanks, so all the fuel had to be in the fuselage, which was a trapezoidal lifting shape. This was the military version of a very pricy biz jet and capable of cruising at Mach 1.8 at about twenty thousand meters. The military only added com gear and missile protection. Gunny had never expected to get a ride in one.
It took just a moment to realize the only other person in the cabin was assigned as an attendant and the entire flight was for him. That made him feel how extraordinary this whole affair was, as much as seeing the President's signature on his orders. They stowed his gear in the flight cabin without him asking, instead of the baggage compartments. He appreciated that. They departed and climbed out with some hast and the sky turned dark outside through the tiny port as they leveled off.
The steward stirred about once they were stable and poured a wonderful cup of coffee. Then came back with the breakfast sandwiches he had requested. They weren't just something grabbed at a fast food place on the way. They obviously had been prepared in a VIP flight kitchen just for him. This is the way to travel he decided, quite amused. He loosened his seat belt a bit and invited the steward to relax and have a cup of coffee with him if he wanted. He opened the folder with the bright stripped edge and started reading. He could see the steward's eyes get big at the cover. Apparently, he knew what those bright striped edge markings meant.
* * *
April had not had wanted any help bathing before, uncomfortable with servants, but was grateful for the help today. Adzusa's maid scrubbed everywhere she could not reach easy with her left hand, which was about three quarters of her body she discovered. She just leaned on the shower wall with both forearms and let her scrub away. It wasn't near as much fun as Heather and Jeff in the shower.
It felt so odd as an adult person, to have someone diligently scrubbing, even between her toes. She was very gentle around her ribs, folding the cloth repeatedly and using it with a gentle swirling motion just like a brush. It hardly hurt at all. She sat back on the edge of the bed to finish being dried and let her work her pants over her feet, just like dressing a child, until she could grasp the waist band without bending.
Then she took both hands in hers and pulled April erect from the edge of the bed, straight legged, so she didn't have to strain to stand up near as much. Once she was vertical, a few tugs and tucks finished everything. If she could avoid constantly insulting the injured area, maybe it would heal faster.
She was sitting down with Papa-san to breakfast, about the time Gunny Mack was dropping into San Diego to refuel. Adzusa and Lin had gone off to town for something and she was enjoying chatting with Papa-san alone. He was telling a few stories about his working days. He spoke in generalities, but it was still interesting even without naming names. She repeated Easy's story, about Jan Hagen showing up for parachute drop in a tuxedo, with a gift wrapped package. He enjoyed that.
* * *
When they landed in San Diego Gunny was surprised to see his steward open a cabinet and slip on a ballistic vest. He also pulled a heavy machine pistol from the storage, that was too small to be called a machine gun, but too big to fit in any holster. Instead he hung it o
n his chest, with a belt that clipped under a retaining strap on one shoulder. Two double magazines went in pockets in the vest. That seemed unusual security for a plane landing and provisioning on a Naval base. After considering the implications of the man's actions, Gunny retrieved the fanny pack with his pistol from the next seat, where he had set it and put it on with the bag to the front sitting in his lap. He ran the zipper all the way back and turned the insert around, so it was right handed again while in the front.
The requested reports did catch up with him in San Diego and a Navy man came aboard after a thorough ID check from the steward, with a thick pile of folders and numbers to contact the requested support in Hawaii, he explained what kind of alert aircraft normally were active in Hawaii and detailed what kind of ordnance they would hang on them at his disposal. "All I have to say is, I've worked with some unusual special forces and spooks fella, but I've never seen them hold aircraft on runway alert and configure them at one man's call. You have to have one hell of a lot of pull."
"Not usually Sir," Gunny assured him, "But this is at the President's personal direction."
"That would explain it," he allowed. "Tindal you have two options here. I can leave you aboard this aircraft, which is already being refueled and send you on, or I can stuff you in a combat aircraft that won't be as comfortable. It would be faster , but by the time you suit up and get instructed in ejection and other procedures here and unsuit at the other end, it will about even out. It's just I was told to expedite you, so you tell me what suits you. I have to warn you though," he said giving Gunny an appraising eye, "I might have some trouble fitting you with gear. Did they kind of fudge the numbers to let you in the service? You look like you are right on the edge of the envelope for size. Which would you like?" he asked.
"I'd just as soon stay here with a head and be able to relax, read these folders and have lunch on the way. I don't really have any desire to rush to get stuffed in a p-suit and arrive there all frazzled, when I may need to be alert. You're right too, I enlisted at eighteen and I wasn't quite through growing. It's harder for them to kick you out, than never let you in, but it has been a hassle fitting in issue gear," he explained. "I've never been up in a fighter and it would be fun, but not when I have duty at the other end to attend to. Thanks anyway," he said sincerely.
"Nice to meet somebody with some sense," the officer said. "If you ever want that joyride in a hot plane, just for fun, come see me and I'll take care of you," he offered and jotted down his contact info on a small note for Gunny, before he hustled down the stairs. Gunny put that precious little document in his wallet.
In a few minutes a luggage truck approached and delivered two insulated boxes, he figured must be their meals and other in flight supplies. He noticed the steward waved the man off that delivered to stop well away and brought it aboard himself, but not before he looked inside both carefully. The way the man examined each item and then tipped the container and studied the bottom, made him sure the man wasn't concerned he might have been given roast beef instead of pastrami. Gunny knew the drill and the man was making sure he didn't carry anything aboard that would go BOOM. In fact Gunny admired the man's techniques and thoroughness. They had experts in to teach the President's protective detail a lot of the same things.
That and the vest and armament made him worry. He was used to providing such protection, not receiving it himself. Was the man concerned someone might be a threat to his passenger specifically? The more he thought about it, the more he decided he better adjust his attitude. He had relaxed and felt safe, just because he was on a base and in a military vehicle. But what he already knew, should have told him that Harrison's Patriot Party had resources in the military, beyond his own people in Homeland Security.
Anything that supported April, including Ma Tindal's favorite son, could be a target and he better stop relaxing and go into a cynical threat analysis mode, long before he actually joined up with his charge. If somebody removed him long before he could even reach her, it opened up all sorts of possibilities. Someone might even have a bodyguard waiting to suggest as an alternative, who was compromised.
The more he thought about it the more he worried just how deep the man Harrison's political organization penetrated the military and how deeply they influenced service members, if there was a conflict between their loyalty to the Commander in Chief and their private politics. He found himself contemplating things he really didn't want to consider. OK he resolved, eyes narrowing and lips curling back. I thought I was on vacation for a couple hours and this would be easy duty. No more of that crap!
The steward came back aboard and sealed the cabin door up. When he turned to say something to Gunny, the change on Gunny's face made him take a step back. Gunny smiled at him and it didn't help at all.
Chapter 39
The reports Gunny read all seemed very concise, yet covered the people well. He had more than a set of facts about them; he thought he had a good feel for each one's personality. Whoever assembled the data into the final reports, he was pretty sure were all edited by the same person. It had a casual writing style, that was not your usual government document and as far as Gunny was concerned that was a plus. The report on Harrison however was a piece of fluff. It was obviously written by a civil servant type and read like a press release to hostile media. If he believed it, Harrison had been nominated to his party's candidacy almost as an accident and he had no special power or agenda, other than a long and spotless record as a public servant. His family and educational background was ignored and his service record outlined in the sparest detail. Someone went to great deal of trouble, to make sure he knew less about the man than a simple net search would have found. It stank.
Near landing the crew called him forward and invited him to share their superior view. He had asked them to call ahead and get them cleared to over fly Kalaeloa Airport, before going across the bay to land at the civilian field. They extended the low speed wing ends and then he saw the canards swing into place on each side, easily visible from the cockpit. When they got really close, they were talking with each other and controllers.
He heard a command to the copilot about deploying spoilers and when the man pulled a couple levers back, Gunny actually had to hold himself off the seat backs from the braking action. The nose picked up just slightly and there was a new roughness to the ride, felt instead of heard. Almost like going from one sort of pavement to another in a ground car. The view of the coast they had been approaching swiftly, suddenly slowed to a relative crawl. They dropped faster too, until when they crossed the surf, the detail of the waves was easy to see.
Suddenly they banked as the pilot responded to some command from a controller Gunny could not hear and the runways were right before them. The crossed double runways were punctuated, right at the center of the X with a huge crater. Even if the ends that remained, or a taxiway had enough length to take off, the overlaying dirt excavated from the crater would have prevented it. There was now a very large bulldozer and several front loaders, busy putting all the dirt back in the hole. The soil had been thrown so far some of it was piled against the face of hangers. But they already had a ramp down one side of the hole.
"How can they be working in the crater without moon suits?" the copilot asked aloud, first of the pilot and then with a glance over his shoulder, let Gunny know the question was meant to include him. "I thought it would be too hot for at least a couple weeks."
Gunny grabbed his own ear between index and thumb and wiggled it. The copilot got a sudden look of understanding and flipped a toggle switch overhead, but left his hand on it. He reached up with the other hand and actually tapped the boom mic in front of his face to double check it. "OK, our mics are muted, sorry."
"It wasn't a mini-nuke. They have some other sort of weapon we don't really know much about. There are probably some prompt soft X-rays, but no residual radiation. Forget you heard that from me though. Somebody probably thinks it should be a secret, even with this out in f
ront of God and every spy satellite in the sky."
"Thanks," the crewman said and flipped the switch back, obviously uncomfortable to keep it muted any longer than necessary." The pilot spoke softly in his mic, rolled the plane around in a surprisingly tight turn and descended even lower.
"Look off the end of the North West leg of the X, over towards the hangers. That was Harrison's plane, the fellows in the tower tell me. I described you as a VIP involved in the shake out of this, who wanted a look-see, so he told me what to point out. The ones beyond it were some Coast Guard helicopters and a couple transports. The civilian planes off to the East got a pass, but the blast flipped some of them over, even if they were tied down.
The plane in question had probably been about the size of what he was in, but all that was left of it were the tail and one wing, sitting back from a blackened crater busted through the concrete. The line of Coastie aircraft parked behind it was a line of similar craters.
When they pulled up and turned to go back over the ocean, Gunny noted a cluster of similar craters on the perimeter of the field. "Have any idea what that was?" Gunny asked.
"That would have been an anti-ballistic site," the pilot informed him. "There is a system centered on Hickman to the East and its radar got hit when it illuminated the incoming stuff and changed mode when it tracked them. I'm pretty familiar with these systems," he confided.
"The separate site here would have automatically switched to independent operation and tried a terminal defense using lidar and very short range missiles and then electronic canon. Obviously it didn't do much good. There are a few of the small craters out in the field, where there was no target, so I'd assume they had some success deflecting a few incoming weapons. But then the spacers overwhelmed the point defenses and went back to single shot mode, after removing the defense. They held back the big cratering round until they clearly had suppressed any defense. The whole action lasted about three minutes."
April 2: Down to Earth Page 34
