John Ringo - Von Neumann’s War

“Great, sir, we’re gonna need something,” Ridley admitted darkly. “My pilots are ready and willing to take on the enemy, sir. But I’ll admit that right now we don’t have the chance of a sparrow against an eagle. They took our ships apart like ants eating a grasshopper, but faster. Anything we can do to improve the situation has my full and complete support, sir. What do you want me to do?”

“There are some very bright minds running around on this base and they’ll be picking yours for anything that might help. Let the major show you around and get another debrief. He understands the lay of the land around here. And in general, pitch in however you can. Don’t hesitate to ask questions; don’t hesitate to make suggestions. Be foolish if that’s what it takes.”

“Clear, sir. Can do. I’ll have my guys do the same.” Ridley began thinking about any way to fight the probes. Off the top, nothing came to mind.

“Hey, Colonel,” Shane said as he walked in the squadron office. He gave the Air Force officer a gesture that was more wave than salute. It wasn’t disrespectful, just a friendly greeting between warriors. “How’re you settling in?”

“We’re good,” Bull replied, returning the waved salute. “We’ve gotten our full delivery of squadron equipment and we’re finally at over ninety percent on personnel. We’re missing some critical areas, but since they include weapons techs and avionics…”

“And you’re in one of the nerve centers for both…” Shane said, chuckling.

“We’ve got civilian contractors out the ass in the area,” the colonel replied, nodding. “So we’re farming out most of it. I mean, the contractors around here come up with the next generation gizmos.”

They seem to enjoy working on “off the shelf” equipment for a change.” The “off the shelf” equipment was the most advanced installed in any aircraft in the world. But the reality of electronics advances made it already obsolete by the time it was installed.

“There are some big brains around here.”

“Tell me about it,” Shane said, shaking his head. “As an infantry officer I, of course, can never feel the slightest hint of doubt about my overall intelligence, good looks and sex appeal. But I’ll admit that from time to time I feel challenged in the intelligence area when dealing with some of these guys. But, speaking of which, is Rene around?”

“Down in the briefing room,” the colonel said, nodding. “He’s conducting a class on threat assessment.”

“Well, it’s nearly quitting time,” the major replied, glancing at his watch. “What say we have our first debrief with the Asymetric Soldier team?”

“A woman she work from sun to sun…” Bull said, shrugging. “Over at the comm facility? We’ve got secure rooms set up now.”

“Nah,” Shane said, grinning. “We’ve got a better place…”

“ORDER IN!”

“Your primary debriefing area is Hooters ?” Rene asked, grinning.

The Huntsville Hooters location had been changed. While a large portion of the Huntsville area had been designated “protected,” the actual location of the Huntsville Hooters was outside that zone. After a certain amount of wangling, Roger had pulled the strings to get it moved into the secure zone and it now was placed directly outside the gates of the Redstone Arsenal, which was the inner ring of the redoubt.

If Hooters fell, for all practical purposes the world was lost.

“Take a look around,” Roger said, sipping at his beer. “You’ll see most of these same faces over the course of the next month or so. At this point, practically everyone in this city is working on one defense project or another. Most of the waitresses work over at the base or for one of the defense contractors and moonlight here. For that matter, most of the stuff we’re doing isn’t even classified anymore. The probes don’t seem to care and the news media is too worked up about the city defense plans to pay much attention to what we do. So most of our security restrictions have been tossed. They always got in the way of communication anyway. And would you prefer to be sitting in a secure room sipping cold coffee?”

“No,” Bull said, laughing. He reached for the pitcher and a passing waitress slapped his hand.

“My job, Colonel,” the girl said, winking. “You’re the CO of the Redneck squadron, right? How’s the arm?” She moved on without actually waiting for a response.

“See,” Roger said. “There ain’t no such thing as secret no more. So, Alan, Tom and I have read your reports. Why don’t you and Rene give it to us again,” he suggested.

“I…” The colonel paused and frowned. “I know what you were saying about clearances, but…”

“You want me to call Ronny?” Roger said, frowning. “I suppose I should have gotten you briefed in. I’m not sure what my current title is…”

“Deputy Secretary of Defense for Advanced Defense Concepts and Testing,” Traci said, picking up a wing. “You never read memos, do you?”

“Who’s got time?” Roger asked frowning. “Did you say Deputy Secretary? Not assistant deputy’s assistant secretary?”

“That’s right,” Tom said. “You didn’t get the memo?”

“I dunno,” Roger replied. “You’re sure there wasn’t an ‘Assistant’ in there, somewhere, or an ‘Undersecretary’?” he asked, almost plaintively.

“Nope,” Tom replied. “You’re on the manning chart as reporting to the secretary of defense.”

“I haven’t talked to him but twice ,” Roger argued. “Who the hell said I was a deputy secretary?”

“Uh, the President?” Alan replied. “I read the memo. You were appointed by the President, confirmed by the Senate and it was in the newspapers. Hell, it made the evening news, briefly. It was a nice little write up.”

“Crap, I have got to start reading my e-mail.” Roger sighed. “Anyway…” He paused at the expression on the colonel’s face. “What?”

“You’re…” Bull paused and swallowed. “Somebody had better not be pulling my leg.”

“Somebody better not be pulling mine,” Roger said, frowning at the far wall. “How the hell can I be a deputy secretary?”

“They’re not, Colonel,” Shane said, grinning. “I read the e-mail, too. Hell, I saved the link to the Washington Post article.”

“You don’t remember anything about this?” Tom asked, laughing. “I thought I was checked out!”

“Ronny said something about coming to work directly for the Defense Department,” Roger admitted, frowning in thought. “I just asked if I’d take a cut in salary and he said, no, the salary would be the same or better.”

“There was paperwork,” Traci pointed out. “Sally put it on your desk. You signed it.”

“Sally’s always putting stuff on my desk,” Roger said, shaking his head. “I don’t have time to read it!”

“Colonel,” Shane said, laughing and shaking his head. “You can assume that Roger has need-to-know. Director Guerrero said that I was supposed to show you around. These are the guys I was supposed to show you around to.”

Bull looked at the three, Tom with some chicken from his latest failed attempt to strip it off the wing speckled on his shirt, Alan with his Roll Tide ball cap and Roger, the “Deputy Secretary of Defense for Advanced Defense Concepts and Testing,” in his jeans and polo shirt with a hole on the sleeve, and shook his head.

“Any other deputy secretaries of defense sitting at the table?” he asked and laughed.

“Nope,” Tom said, shaking his head. “I’m an assistant under deputy secretary and Alan’s just a flunkie.”