Robert Smith - The Planner

Brown continued, “We identified a couple of months ago that there would just too many open-ended aspects to the program. None of us can know everything about these subjects — after all, law is our field. Not the seven layer model inside TCP-IP and other technical details. The whole thing has to be passed by the senate, hold together and not be picked apart piecemeal by liberals and libertarians. At least, not too quickly.”

“So your problem is just managing to get these legislative parts together?” asked Planner.

“No. Our problem started when we began to realise that we’d never be able to make our bill watertight. There’ll always be controversy, bound to be, and loose ends. It’s inevitable with something this large,” said Black.

“We concluded that we needed an Operation Phase B, it’s own Shock and Awe program 44following on from BE2,” said Brown.

“It was the psychologist team’s idea,” added Black.

“From Operation Carrot, right?” said Bates.

“Sorry, I get lost with all the code names,” said Brown irritably.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” muttered Bates.

“So the purpose of this phase would be to drive the acceptance of the new laws. To continue for as long as required to get it signed. Everyone would be clamouring for the politicians to act,” said Brown forcibly.

“This is sounding like complication. I don’t like complication,” said Planner with a frown.

“I understand,” said Black. “We’ve taken this up to the COG. We needed to anyway, for logistical reasons.”

“Ok let’s hear it,” said Planner, leaning back.

“We agreed a scare tactic. Put the senators on edge until the bill is passed,” said Brown.

“And this is done… how?” asked Planner.

Black looked uncomfortable and after an exchange of glances, Brown stated, “Anthrax powder mailed through the post.”

“Anthrax!?” stated Planner with restrained alarm.

Black cradled his fingers, “I had the same reaction. The workshops, though, as I mentioned… we ran some scenarios and plotted out pros and cons for various options. In short, what we propose is the following… that the first intervention would use inert material; a dummy sent to selected journalists to hype the news; thereafter, further deliveries in easily identifiable packets in an escalation process… until we achieve our objective.”

“You’re planning on sending Anthrax to senators?” stated Planner in as even a tone as he could manage.

Brown replied, “You might be interested to note, there’s an inoculation drug called Cipro to protect high value assets 45 46. We’ve been told to expect very low collateral damage.”

“This has been cleared?” asked Planner, trying to hide his incredulity.

“Yes. I personally cleared it with the COG,” said Brown.

“And where are you going to dig up the Anthrax?” asked Bates.

Brown shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, “This is why we needed to go to the COG. Not only to approve the plan but to obtain the material. The requisition has been put into train. And from that we have good news and bad news.”

“The good news,” Black said airily, “is that we have permission.”

“The bad news is that we have to use… uh, unofficial means of obtaining the material,” said Brown and paused. “The COG said that you are the people to help us.”

* * * *

Bates and Planner sat within a booth in a dark and noisy bar close to Wall Street. It was only 6pm, Happy Hour, and light streamed into the bar whenever the door opened; and at Bates’ suggestion, both had already sampled some of the drinks. Planner was a Bourbon drinker, but Bates had insisted that they both have Martini cocktails of different types.

Planner loosen his tie and top shirt button, and said quietly to Bates, “If these lawyers think we are going to go into a military base like Tom Cruise, all clandestine, lowered in by cables, they’ll be mightily disappointed.”

“They’d probably consider the acquisition of one of the deadliest bacterial spores known to man, a minor detail,” Bates reflected, while finishing his September Manhattan 47.

“This minor detail requires its own Stage A, B and C. It’s a major operation. It’s not as simple as getting some spores and scatter them around until the Senators fall in line. I don’t like it. It’s messy and unnecessary,” said Planner.

“Just more shit we have to shovel,” Bates mused philosophically.

Planner shook his head, “No, this is different. It feels different to me.”

“I don’t know what you’ve been up to before, but this feels like modus operandi to me,” Bates stated with a shrug.

“This is different. This is quite new, for me anyway, in several ways. It’s no longer removing an enemy of the state or setting up the mood music for a political scenario to influence a Latin American republic, it is now marshalling our own senators with a metaphorical gun to their heads,” said Planner grimly.

“Et tu, Brute?” queried Bates.

Planner ignored the comment, “And besides the additional innocents sacrificed to Baal, there’s more shit to scrap from our shoes.”

“There’s always the money to buy new shoes,” observed Bates.

“Hmm, Money. Yeah but once you pass your hierarchy of needs, is money really a motivator?” considered Planner.

“Taking off your shoes and getting cold feet, Planner? Developing liberal morals? Best be careful in this place,” said Bates waving his hand to the bar.

Planner looked around and saw dozens of young executives in smart suits in this mock-mahogany lair; drinking cocktails and champagne, laughing very loudly; the cream of capitalism at play.

Planner sighed and expounded, “I live by the cliche that you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. The end justifying the means… I just… don’t like breaking more eggs than needed.”

“That’s excellent logic, Robert”, said Bates artificially. “I can see that you have the big picture.”

“So what motivates you, Bates?” asked Planner trying to hide his irritation.

“Money and sex, does it for me. Oh and probably, self-preservation,” Bates said with a wry smile.

“I know what’s bugging me,” said Planner looking at his drink. “I see myself as a cancer doctor. The cancer within society…”

“I got that,” said Bates.

“…And I use surgical operations, excisions, to remove the cancer,” said Planner. “And sometimes, sometimes, some healthy flesh has to be taken to remove that cancer. It’s unfortunate, but necessary. Utilitarianism 48. I do that. I know that’s my job.”

“Surgical? What er… instrument do you use?” Bates asked cautiously.

“Aircraft,” said Planner. “I use aircraft. Very blunt surgical device except for surgery on society. Then it can be very precise. And I’m good at aircraft. Bringing them down, explaining it away.”

Bates whistles in amazement.

“But this new plan…” Planner shakes his head.

“You mean Operation Eagle,” said Bates.

“Yes,” said Planner. “It is like introducing cancer to kill cancer. It just doesn’t work for me. It disturbs my, what shall I call it? …world view.”

“You cannot fly like an eagle with the wings of a dove,” quoted Bates.

“Very witty. Ok, I only have a short while,” said Planner, looking at his watch.

“You have another engagement?” asked Bates.

“I hope to,” smiled Planner.

“So what are we going to do to get this mat-eri-al?” asked Bates.

“We go in and ask nicely,” mused Planner. “With a big club behind our back!” Planner ripped a page from his filofax and wrote a name and number. “This is the go-to guy for the authorisation to get into Fort Detrick. We need to get in a.s.a.p. Can you call him?”