Robert Doherty - Project Aura

“All right. I’ll check out the Space and Missiles Systems Center. Keep an eye out there for anything else.”

“What about whoever is replacing Raisor? Is he or she one of yours?”

“Negative. I have no idea who is coming to take over Bright Gate, but I’m relying on you to keep things under control there.”

“What about Lieutenant Jackson, sir? Can I bring her in on this?”

“No. The fewer who know, the better. And Jackson was with Bright Gate. If I were you, I’d keep an eye on her too.”

But you aren’t me, Dalton thought. “Yes, sir.”

McFairn leafed through the documents she had had her people intercept from the Pentagon. As deputy director of the nation’s primary communications security agency, McFairn could access any communications, no matter how highly classified. After all, it was her people who designed the secure systems all government agencies used.

A Task Force Six team was en route to Colombia to interdict a drug shipment and kidnap a cartel member to try to find out what happened to the Coast Guard cutter. Exactly as she had arranged. She hit the autodial for Boreas and faced the windows, noting the large flag on the pole outside the building flapping in a stiff breeze.

He answered immediately and her message was succinct, informing him of the team’s itinerary.

“I’ll have HAARP on line to help locate Aura,” Boreas said in response.

“What makes you so sure that Aura will be used?”

“Because you are going to have one of your agents in Colombia inform the Ring that the team is coming,” Boreas said.

McFairn swung her chair around, no longer looking out the window at the flag. “That’s treason.”

“Come now,” Boreas said, “certainly you’ve sacrificed smaller units before for the greater good. In war, sacrifices have to be made.”

“I didn’t know we were at war.”

“Countries are always at war or preparing for war, which is essentially the same thing. Think of the power we are giving you with HAARP.”

“Who is we?”

“I told you long ago not to concern yourself with our identity,” Boreas said. “You are to do as you are told.”

“I know you work for the Priory.”

“But you have no idea what that word represents.”

McFairn knew there was no more arguing. She had crossed her Rubicon long ago and there was no going back. She waited until he finally spoke again.

“What about Psychic Warrior?” Boreas asked. “Do you have a new team ready to go to Bright Gate?”

“I’ve selected the personnel from within my own agency.”

“Can they be counted on?”

“Yes.”

“I want to meet the team leader before they go to Bright Gate.”

“I’ll have Agent Kirtley fly in with General Eichen. He can get a feel for what’s going on along the way and keep an eye on the general.”

“Good. Don’t forget to make the call south.”

The phone went dead.

McFairn sat silent for a long time. Then she pulled out her dog-eared copy of The Art of War. She thumbed to the page that listed the five dangerous faults of a general: The last one was oversolicitude for one’s men, which exposed a general to worry and trouble.

She put the book down and picked up the phone, calling her station chief in Bogotá.

Despite the passage, she didn’t feel much better when she hung up.

“Eight thousand people are employed in the various phases of the MIL STAR program.”

General Eichen knew that last sentence was designed to impress politicians, the implication being that continued funding of MIL STAR meant eight thousand votes. The colonel giving him the briefing was obviously used to it and was just as obviously one of the MILSTAR employees who had absolutely nothing to do with the actual operation of the program itself, but was more involved with selling the program. Eichen knew this was typical of the entire defense establishment, from contractors to deployed units. The tooth-to-tail ratio of the Department of Defense was ten/ninety percent and shrinking every year.

Eichen was at the Air Force Space and Missile Systems Center in El Segundo, California, a stop he felt necessary to make before moving on to Alaska and checking on HAARP. He’d had his plane detour to California immediately upon receipt of Dalton ’s call.

“MILSTAR is the future of communications,” Colonel Braddock continued as he walked in front of a mock-up of one of the large satellites. “It is a joint service satellite communications system that provides secure, jam-resistant, worldwide communications to meet essential wartime requirements for high-priority military users. The multisatellite constellation will link command authorities with a wide variety of resources, including ships, submarines, aircraft, and ground stations.”

Eichen was seated in the front row of the otherwise empty conference room. His rank and his credentials from INSCOM had earned him this briefing, but he really wasn’t sure what he was looking for, so for the moment he kept quiet and listened to Braddock’s spiel.

“MILSTAR is the most advanced military communications satellite system in the world. Once completely operational, the constellation will consist of MILSTAR satellites One through Four in geosynchronous orbit giving global coverage and a fifth, the system coordinator known as SC-MILSTAR. Each midlatitude satellite weighs approximately ten thousand pounds and has a design life of ten years.

“Each MILSTAR serves as a smart switchboard in space by directing traffic from terminal to terminal anywhere on the Earth. Each satellite processes communications signals and through the SC-MILSTAR can link with the other three MILSTARs. The satellite establishes, maintains, reconfigures, and disassembles required communications transmissions as directed by users. MIL-STAR terminals on the surface can provide encrypted voice, data, telemetry, and facsimile transmissions.

“Geographically dispersed mobile and fixed control stations provide survivable and enduring operational command and control for the MILSTAR constellation. The AN-TRC-194 is the designation for the MILSTAR Ground Command Post, which can be at a fixed site or transported by aircraft, ship, or truck. These terminals use extreme-high-frequency, EHF, uplinks, and an SHF, super-high-frequency, downlink.”

The colonel was on a roll. Eichen had all this information in the top secret packet he’d been handed by the installation commander upon his arrival. He’d known basically what MIL STAR was before landing, but he listened to Braddock, keeping his mind open, because he had no idea what HAARP was yet, so he had no idea what part of what he was being told was important.

“Each MIL STAR can handle low-data-rate, LDR, and medium-data-rate, MDR, communications. Each transmission, LDR and MDR, is frequency-hopped over a two-gigahertz bandwidth to provide high resistance to jamming. MILSTAR covers a greater width of the electromagnetic band than any transmitter ever made. In addition, the MDR provides thirty-two channels that each operate at data rates up to one-point-five million bits per second. Because transmission security is not one hundred percent at that rate, the satellite has two specially designed nulling spot antennas that can identify and pinpoint the location of a jammer and electronically isolate its signal within a small region of the satellite’s two-gigahertz communications spectrum.”

“Which means?” Eichen asked.

“That MILSTAR cannot be jammed by any technology currently available,” Braddock said.

“These nulling spot antennas are basically counterjammers?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So MILSTAR can transmit on its own?”

Braddock frowned. “In response to an attempt from a hostile source trying to jam it, yes, sir.”