The War Planners Series

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The War Planners Series Page 11

by Andrew Watts


  Others must have felt his unease. Brooke said, “David, are you okay? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Just a little tired. Probably just jet lag.”

  Natesh said, “Feel free to take a break. We’ve got a few weeks. You can afford to pace yourself, my friend.”

  David didn’t want anyone to think anything unusual of him. He said, “I’m alright. Thanks.” He still felt ill.

  The group kept going. It went on that way for the next hour. Natesh drawing out ideas from the group. David doing his best to be a poor participant. The mood was a mix of gloom and excitement. People were coming to terms with the sheer magnitude of the threat. But oddly, the group seemed to enjoy the task of planning out the war. It was an interesting intellectual exercise for people who had studied such things.

  After the first hour, they took a bio break. Everyone got up, stretched their legs, and went out into the hallway towards the restrooms. Other groups were out there, chatting it up. It was weirdly like high school. The consultants in the Red Cell were like kids in between class. Some were socializing. Others were talking about what each of the other groups was doing.

  David and Brooke returned to the meeting room first. The others were still down the hall, conversing.

  Brooke said, “How is your family?”

  He looked at her blankly.

  “Oh. Right. No phones. Sorry. Do you think they’re okay? I’m sure they’re okay. I’m sure Tom talked to your wife. I’m sure they’re fine.” She seemed to be a nervous talker. “How many kids did you say you had?”

  “I have two girls—both young,” he said, smiling politely. He thought about his girls for a moment and the smile faded. “If any of this stuff that we are discussing were really to happen…”

  Brooke pressed her lips together and gave him a sympathetic look. She shook her head. “I know. Even the things that we’ve talked about just now. I can’t imagine a world going through any of that. My grandfather was in World War Two. I’ve read a lot of books about that time. The whole world was transformed overnight. Car factories became war machine factories. There were tens of millions dying. The atrocities that people took part in around the world. I mean, can you imagine that happening in a civil society today?”

  “Depends what you mean by a civil society, I guess.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m sure that plenty of Germans involved in the Holocaust atrocities were civil before they were put into that situation. Civil can mean a lot of things. They may have been polite or kind or clean or wealthy or proper. But when the war was on and they got in a uniform and were put in a group and told to pull a switch, they did it. War and groupthink can be a hell of a thing…”

  She looked appalled. “Well, I would never—”

  David said, “I’m sure you wouldn’t, Brooke. Not with what you know now and the way you’ve likely been raised. All I’m saying is that people, if put into the right set of circumstances, can do things that they never would have imagined. I mean, if you look at other events of World War Two, even our country, which I think always tries to act with the noblest of intentions, did some things—the fire bombings, the nuclear weapons—that seem unthinkable when you read about them today. I’m still having a hard time believing the premise of this project. I keep thinking that this is just going to turn out to be a paper exercise. I guess I’m half hoping that will be the case. Because these things that we’re talking about. These plans. It is like World War Two all over again. But this time our country would be the battlefield.”

  Brooke said, “You keep taking this to a pretty dark place. I guess that sitting here in these air-conditioned meeting rooms, it’s hard for me to fully think of this as a real probability. Maybe that’s it. Maybe—like you said—I just don’t really believe that any of this stuff could really happen. You think it could really get that bad? I mean, if the Chinese really did invade?”

  David wanted to talk to her about what he’d seen last night, but thought better of it. Instead, he said, “A few years ago, I remember hearing this reporter talk about her time in Rwanda. She went and interviewed a bunch of people that were involved in the genocide there. She spoke with people on both sides. The Hutus and the Tutsis. Before the violence broke out, many of them were neighbors—friends, even. She talked to this one guy. This was years after all of the people were killed there. Anyway, this guy was a godfather to one of the children he killed. He said he couldn’t explain why he did it. He didn’t know what had come over him.”

  Brooke looked at him and covered her mouth.

  He said, “It was like a craziness took over that country. I think that is what war must be like when it comes to your home. People become animals. They don’t reason. Don’t think. Just act on impulses. A lot of times, they are evil impulses. I think war is like a disease. When it spreads to a new land, it infects that place and the people that live there.”

  Brooke said, “And what about what we are doing here? Planning how China would attack us—do you think that we are contributing to the spread of this disease? Or helping to prevent it?”

  David said, “I think there is such a thing as a just war. I certainly think that the United States has always tried to fight for the right reasons, and with honor. I know for a fact that we train our military to question the morality of their orders, and to always fight for the side of justice. But Brooke, between you and me, I’m not sure that what we’re doing here is rooted in those moral values.”

  Brooke said, “What do you mean?”

  They heard the others coming closer to the door.

  David’s face flushed. He wasn’t sure what to say. He clumsily patted her shoulder and said, “Hey—I’m not ready to talk about it yet. But I’ll tell you later. Trust me. Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?”

  She looked at him and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Then she nodded and whispered, “Of course.”

  The others filed into the room. Brooke turned away and looked lost in thought. In his head, David made a note to himself that he would put Brooke in the ‘trustworthy’ column. He had seen enough of her. He wasn’t sure when he would get the chance, but he needed to let her know what had happened to Bill and enroll her in his plan. Now he just needed a plan.

  6

  The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.

  —Leo Tolstoy

  David Manning awoke at 5 a.m. One week. He had been on the island for a full week. During that time he had lain low. He didn’t contribute much. Only when he absolutely had to in order not to seem suspicious. They remained separated in teams for the whole week. He had only heard rumors about what the other teams were working on. Major Combs decided that the best thing for everyone was to keep the information compartmentalized for security purposes. Natesh objected but was overruled by Lena. People still talked, though. The consultants were mostly cut from the same cloth. Ex-military and government action officers and midlevel managers. They were used to having so many rules that it was impossible to obey all of them and still get the job done. So naturally, during meals or breaks, they talked.

  That was how David began hearing about the other plans. The Pacific war plans. The US invasion plans. The pre-war psychological operations. It was very comprehensive. Still an early-stage outline, with many details to be worked out. But the consultants that formed the Red Cell were both very sharp and extremely knowledgeable. With each new bit of the plans that David became privy to, he grew more and more worried about who was really getting this information.

  David had never hurt anyone before. He’d joined the military, if only for a brief time, to defend and protect. He didn’t know if he had it in him to hurt someone. But the more he thought about what had happened to Bill, the more he thought that his life was in danger. The more he heard about the war plans, the more he worried about the future well-being of his family.

  Stress took its toll. He barely ate during meals. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn�
��t remember the last time he had prayed before he came to this island, but now David prayed each night in the silence of his room. Still, he knew something was missing that de-stressed him at home.

  The night before, he had decided to use the sneakers they had given him in his duffel bag and go running. He needed a good long sweat. It would help keep him from getting sluggish, and from going insane with worry.

  With no other obvious place to work out, he ran around the six-thousand-foot runway. The air was humid and there was a light breeze. The only sounds he could hear were his footsteps on the pavement and the rhythmic crashing of waves on the shore. At dawn, he witnessed one of the most beautiful sunrises he had ever seen. As he ran, he also got a view of most of the island’s base.

  Sweat dripped from his forehead and into his eyes. He wiped it away with his forearm. His stride was long, his breathing measured. The sun peeked out over the horizon. He was almost done with the run and was feeling good.

  The runway was like his own personal track. David finished another runway length and turned to cross the far endline of the runway. He was facing the waves as he crossed to the other side of the pavement. He would turn right once more and then have a final runway length to go before he arrived back at the side of the base where the buildings were located. He was a mile away from Lena, the classroom, and everyone that was part of the Red Cell.

  Just before he made his turn, something caught his eye near the water.

  The fence.

  The barbed wire fence ran around the base and runway like a giant squared-off horseshoe, with the two ends descending into the ocean over a mile apart. The runway and all of the buildings lay inside the fence. It rose up a good ten or fifteen feet in the air and was covered by sharp steel razor wire. All around the fence, the jungle bush had been cut away and the ground scorched. That resulted in a clear path to walk next to the fence for about eight feet on either side. Beyond that manmade clearing of dirt, ash, and metal, a dark jungle rose up in thick green masses. There were several acres of rainforest on the inside of the fence, the base side, which the makers had not bothered to clear. The result was a half-mile corridor that rose at a shallow grade from the base to the apex, three-quarters of a mile away and curved around from the far end of the runway to the other side of the island. If David had wanted to, he imagined that he could run right along that narrow path and come out near his buildings. But that wasn’t what struck him about the fence.

  What was odd about the fence was that it existed at all.

  He had read a book recently about a town with a wall around it. It was a science fiction book, and the entire town was surrounded by an electrified fence and tall pines. The author quoted a poem by Robert Frost. David was reminded of this poem now. There were only two reasons to build a wall. To keep something out. Or to keep something in.

  They were surrounded by ocean in all directions. Gravel, scorched earth, and concrete had cleared away the plants that could threaten to overgrow the base structures and runway. So then why would you need a barbed wire fence on an island? Unless there was something else on that island that you didn’t want people to see…

  The barbed wire fence went straight out into the sea and sank lower and lower until about fifty feet out it was lapped over by greenish-blue saltwater. A man could, if so inclined, swim out fifty-one feet, and go right around it.

  David suddenly found the need to restart his swim training in addition to his morning runs. But not today. The sun was up, and he had to get back in time for class to start. Tomorrow he would get up earlier. He needed to go when it was dark, like it had been for the first twenty minutes of his run.

  He reached the far corner of the runway, turned ninety degrees, and continued on the final leg of his run, back towards the buildings. He could feel his heart pumping. The idea that he was going to break the rules and possibly find a new clue excited him. He wouldn’t just sit on his hands and wait for Lena and whoever the other organizers were to decide his fate. He would take action. He would take control. He began to feel better about himself and his situation.

  Then he saw her.

  A second pair of feet joined the rhythmic pattern of David’s steps on the runway. He looked up, wiping sweat from his brow. Lena. She was running in the reverse direction on the opposite side of the runway. She wore a tight black athletic shirt and tiny grey running shorts. Her long dark hair was up in a ponytail, weighed down by the same sweat that glistened off her skin. Her leg muscles rippled with each stride. She ran like an Olympic distance runner, effortlessly keeping a pace that, to David, looked more like a sprint. But something told him that for her, it wasn’t. David was a little glad that she was on the opposite side of the runway. He liked running alone, and he didn’t want to get passed by a woman. Especially one that might one day try to kill him.

  Lena waved at him. No smile. A guarded, half-amused look. Like she knew something that he didn’t. Like she was trying to figure out whether he was a threat. He gave her an awkward head nod, and it took everything in his power not to look after her as she passed. The patter of her footsteps faded into the ever-present sound of crashing waves along the shore.

  A few minutes later, David’s jog turned into a walk as he approached the cluster of buildings at his end of the runway. Gravel and sand crunched beneath his feet as he walked down the narrow path past the buildings and onto the beach near his barracks. The sun was fully above the horizon now. David stretched his muscles and waited for his breathing to slow. Sweat dripped from his forehead to his nose and onto the dark sand below.

  He wondered why the sand here had such a dark grey-black color. He didn’t think the island’s lone mountain looked volcanic. Maybe one of the scientists in the group would know.

  A few moments went by as he stretched and tried to meditate. He controlled his breathing and did his best to let go of the stress that filled him. The magnificent view helped. Even with everything that was going on, he could still take comfort in the solace of an empty tropical beach after a long morning run.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  He hadn’t heard her approach. Could she really have run all the way to the end of the runway and back that quickly?

  “Good morning, Lena.”

  “I didn’t know you were a runner. How far did you go?” she asked.

  He checked his watch. “Fifty minutes.”

  He was still breathing hard. Try as he might, he could not think of a single uncontroversial thing to say to her.

  She sat down next to him in the sand, extending one of her legs and leaning toward her foot.

  She said, “Beautiful morning to run, don’t you think?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “I used to run a lot more than I do lately. Work has kept me busy.”

  He didn’t reply.

  She said, “But I couldn’t resist a good beach run. I ran track in college. Middle distance. You?”

  He said, “In college? I was on the sailing team.”

  “I see. What kind of boats? The little single-seaters? Or the larger ones?”

  David said, “They were forty-four-footers.”

  “Ah. I see. And you would travel far from the shore on those?”

  David looked at her, puzzled. Why the chit chat? Where was she going with this? “Um, yes. Of course.”

  Her eyes were cool. She said, “David, I’m going to give you some advice. Please imagine that this island is like one of your boats from your college days. It is a vessel, sailing away from the shore. It has just sailed into a squall. Everyone on board is part of a team, right? Everyone on board has a specific job to do. If the team doesn’t work well together, it could be very dangerous for the others. And it is quite possible for anyone on board to fall off and be consumed by the sea.”

  He looked at her in silence.

  She said, “But if everyone does what he or she is supposed to do, your boat will return safe and sound. Clear?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I follow.” His face was
involuntarily turning red.

  “Splendid.” She held a stoic gaze.

  He looked around and then at his wristwatch. He cleared his throat and said, “Well…I better head back. I’ll see you later.”

  She smiled and said, “I look forward to it.” She stared straight into his eyes as she spoke. Then she continued to stretch.

  He didn’t say anything else, just got up and left.

  Lena watched him walk away, thinking of another run by the water she’d taken years ago.

  Thirty minutes later David was showered and dressed in a pair of khakis and a polo shirt. He saw Natesh walking toward the cafeteria and paired up with him.

  “Good morning, David. You heading to eat?”

  “Hi, Natesh. I am.”

  Natesh looked at the sweat on David’s forehead. “You look like you just got done working out.”

  “Oh. Yes. I ran this morning. Sometimes it takes a while for my heart to stop pumping. Especially in this heat. Let’s get in the air-conditioning of this cafeteria. That should help.”

  They began walking along the gravel pathway toward the dining hall. David smelled sausage and cafeteria food in the air.

  Moments later they joined Henry Glickstein at a cafeteria table. Glickstein seemed to be one of the few people on the island who were enjoying themselves. Everyone else was complaining about the lack of Internet or TV. They missed their families and the creature comforts of home. But here was Glickstein, joking and trying to get people to join a late-night poker game he had started. These classes were ending at 10 or 11 p.m. David didn’t really want to play cards after a day of meetings. And he wasn’t in the mood for joking, with what he had seen. He just wanted to sleep. And escape. Still, Henry seemed like a good guy. At least he wasn’t trying to kill anyone.

 

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