Dale Brown - Act of War

As they sat, Kelsey DeLaine asked, “Mind telling us about yourself, Jason?”

“I think we need to get this meeting started…”

“It is started,” Kelsey said. She smiled at his obvious discomfort at being the center of attention and added, “You look awfully young to be a major in the U.S. Army.”

He rolled his eyes at her, then said, “There’s not much to tell, guys. I come from a long line of career army officers stretching back to the Civil War, but I didn’t go to West Point myself because I got accepted to Georgia Tech’s engineering program when I was in ninth grade. I got my bachelor’s and master’s degrees by the time I was eighteen.” That bit of information got a mix of impressed nods and disbelieving glares from the others in the room. “But my dad is a retired army colonel and really wanted me to join up, so I enrolled in OCS. That’s about it. I’ve worked at the Army Research Lab for the past three years. Any questions? Comments?”

“It was pretty awesome, what you did in Kingman City, sir,” Falcone said. “What other units have you been with? What kind of special-ops training have you had?”

“Uh…well, none, Frank,” Jason replied rather sheepishly. “I got my master’s and doctorate degrees at Georgia Tech and Cal-Poly San Luis Obispo, then went on to Fort Polk and the Army Research Lab, working in weapon system engineering and development. I did a year at the Armed Forces Industrial College in Washington and a year as project officer at Aberdeen Proving Grounds, working on various projects.” No one said anything after that. He shrugged, then motioned to DeLaine. “How about you, Kelsey? Been a G-Man for long?”

Kelsey gave Jason an evil scowl but got to her feet. “Thank you, Major. Welcome, everybody. I’m Special Agent Kelsey DeLaine. I’m the deputy director of intelligence, FBI Headquarters, Washington, D.C., second in command at the FBI’s intelligence headquarters, which oversees nationwide and worldwide law-enforcement information-gathering, analysis, dissemination, and operations. Before that, I was deputy special agent in charge of intelligence for the FBI field office in London, with a force of twenty-three agents and a staff of sixty personnel. Before that, I was at the FBI Academy in Quantico, teaching classes in intelligence field operations and international law. I have a prelaw and law degree from Georgetown University.”

“The sergeant major said you had something to do with that huge black market weapons bust in London a couple months ago?” Falcone asked.

Kelsey nodded. “I was the coleader of a joint U.S.-British-Russian task force tracking down terror cells moving into Europe from the Middle East through the Caspian Sea region and southern Europe,” she replied. “Our task force broke the London cell wide open, which led to the discovery of the black market WMD dealers in London and Washington.”

“I heard that op might have saved both capitals from a nuclear or bio-weapon attack,” McCracken said. “You confiscated something like seven billion dollars in secret bank accounts?”

“More like ten billion, plus those four huge chemical weapon caches that we…”

“That’s good, Kelsey, thanks,” Jason said. Kelsey rolled her eyes at Richter but took her seat. “I’m not sure why I was chosen to be in this group, except I have the keys to the gadgets out there in the hangar. Intros over? Good. Frank, get us started. What do you have for us?”

Falcone distributed folders from his briefcase, disguising a smile at DeLaine’s expense as he did so. “This is the latest information we’ve received on the attack in Kingman City,” he said, “mostly details about the explosion itself and the extent of the damage. Over eleven known terrorist and extremist groups have taken responsibility for the attack. The FBI is working with the CIA, State Department, and foreign intelligence and law-enforcement agencies to narrow the list down.”

“Any information on this, Kelsey?” Jason asked.

“Not yet,” Kelsey responded. “We do know that another three dozen or so unknown group or individuals have also claimed responsibility. It’ll take time to track down each and every lead.”

“Any guesses? Anyone stand out?”

“I think that’s very premature,” she said hesitantly. “We need more information.”

Jason glanced at Ari, who made an imperceptible nod in return as she sipped her coffee. “Okay. We don’t have a target yet, so we can’t ascertain exactly who or what our enemy is yet,” Jason said. “But Sun-tzu said that in order to be effective in war you needed to know your enemy and know yourself. I think it’s time to get to know El CID.”

“El Cid?”

“Cybernetic Infantry Device—our little friends in the Humvees,” Jason said. “I brought two with me from Fort Polk, including the one I used in Kingman City. We have four more in various stages of readiness back at Fort Polk—since we use a spiral development program, we can manufacture units one by one and subsequent units adopt upgrades and enhancements. I expect we’ll get one or two within the next month, followed by the rest within six months along with the specialized Humvees and other support equipment. Our goal should be to train someone to use CID number two and have him or her up to speed.”

“I thought of that,” Kelsey said. “Carl Bolton has volunteered to train in the second unit.”

“Carl? Really?”

“He’s the perfect choice,” Kelsey said. “He’s a career FBI agent, graduated top of his class in the academy, and has degrees in engineering and computers.”

And it would give you someone on the inside on my side of the task force, Jason told himself. “Actually,” he said, “I was thinking of…Staff Sergeant Doug Moore.”

“Who?”

“Sergeant Moore, the Air Force Security Forces guard assigned to this area.”

“You mean, the guy at the front desk?” Kelsey asked incredulously. “The short fat guy with glasses?”

“He’s of average height and maybe a little on the husky side, but not fat.”

“I think Carl would have a much better understanding of the technology than the staff sergeant,” Kelsey said. “We don’t have time to train someone in all the intricacies of haptic interfaces. Carl has researched that technology for years. He’s also a marathon runner and open water SCUBA diver—I think he would do better physically and endurance-wise inside CID than Moore. I vote we train Carl Bolton in the second CID unit and use Sergeant Moore in the next units that arrive.”

“A ‘vote,’ huh?” Jason looked at the people around him. Apparently the feds were ready to vote; the military men and woman looked confused and hesitant but seemed to be willing to follow along if a vote was called for. “I’ve got a better idea—a trial run.”

“Trial run?”

“A contest, a challenge,” Jason said. “It’ll give us a good opportunity to look over the units, see what they’re capable of, and show how easy it is to operate. How does that sound?”

“I don’t know…”

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?” He got to his feet and headed for the door. “Sergeant Major, have Sergeant Moore relieved at his post and have him report to the Humvees.”

“Yes, sir.” Jefferson looked at Richter with a quizzical, skeptical expression as he departed.

A few moments later, while Bolton and Sergeant Moore watched, Jason and Ari unloaded the two CID units and lined them up beside one another. “CID is programmed to respond to coded voice commands,” Jason began. “But for this exercise, Ari will program the units to respond to a voice command from myself, Ari, or any person aboard.” He motioned to the two rectangular hunks of composite material. “Their names are Troy and Moffitt.” Jason paused, looking around to see if there was any reaction from the others. “You guys don’t get it? Troy and Moffitt?” No reaction. “No one ever saw The Rat Patrol TV show?” Still no reaction. “Okay, we’ll just use CID One and Two. The command to get it to unstow is ‘activate,’ and then give it the command ‘pilot up’ to open up the access hatch. Go for it.”