by Dale Brown
Jeffrey Lemke read over the letter, even running his fingers over the President’s signature to see if it was real. He then looked at Jason and the CID unit and nodded. “The bureau will give you all the help we can, Robert,” he said, “but this is definitely a difficult time to be standing up a unit like this. We’re still reeling from the attack on Kingman City—I need all my people to hunt down those responsible.”
“And now you have a new interdiction and direct-action unit to help you,” Chamberlain said. “But it’s got to be done, and I’m determined to do it—in fact, I’ll gladly sacrifice whatever political future I have to get it done.” He extended his hand to Lemke and affixed a sincere, direct gaze. “I’m counting on your support, Director.”
Lemke seemed skeptical as he shook Chamberlain’s hand. He looked at Kelsey. “Cooperate for now, Agent DeLaine,” he said. “Keep in contact with me. I want a daily report.”
“That won’t be possible, Director,” Chamberlain said. “TALON needs to operate on a strictly classified basis. No outside communication unless through me.”
“Then I order Special Agent DeLaine to refuse to cooperate at all with this operation,” Lemke said. “The National Security Council will not be allowed to use Bureau assets or data without full disclosure and reporting. No argument.”
Chamberlain looked at Lemke as if he was going to try to pull rank on him, but instead he nodded. “Done. Full disclosure. I’d like it directly between Agent DeLaine and your office.”
“My staff will arrange the proper report format and…”
“Your office only, Director,” Chamberlain said. “This is not for your staff. This is disclosure, Jeffrey, not approval or consultation. You can go up to the Justice Department with any concerns, but not to your staff.”
“Mr. Chamberlain, I guarantee I will be going to the Justice Department with this,” Lemke said sternly. But he nodded. “Fine. Kelsey, my direct line only, okay? I’ll give you the number.”
“Yes, sir.”
Donna Calhoun shook Chamberlain’s hand warmly, then gave him a hug. “I’m proud of you, Robert,” she said as they embraced. “God knows the shades of Kingman City are counting on you. This is a difficult thing you’re attempting. Thank you for your courage.”
“I won’t let you down, Madam Secretary, I promise,” Chamberlain told her softly. “I will avenge your loss.” He escorted her and Lemke to their waiting limousines and watched as they drove off.
After the second limo departed, Chamberlain turned toward Richter, Jefferson, and DeLaine; he hung his head, and actually seemed to look emotionally weary. He looked up, straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath…and then clapped his hands enthusiastically. “Well,” he said in a loud, energetic voice, “now that the bullshit is over, let’s get to work.”
Richter’s mouth dropped open in surprise; Chamberlain noticed it. “You don’t think I really give a shit about Calhoun’s dead sister and brother-in-law in Kingman City, do you, Major?” he asked incredulously. “You deal with these bureaucrats and politicians in whatever terms they understand and respond to. Calhoun is this sweet, sensitive liberal ex-U.S. federal prosecutor from Houston who couldn’t hurt a flea. Her wealthy real estate developer husband gave ten million dollars to the party and bought his wife a Cabinet position so he could continue screwing his friends’ wives in peace.
“The wild card in the deck is Jeffrey Lemke,” Chamberlain went on, turning back to the others. “He knew an awful lot about you, Major, and that is troubling.”
“Why, sir?”
“He got wind of this meeting and found out who the principals were,” Chamberlain replied. “That took initiative, curiosity, and attention to detail.”
“And you don’t approve of those traits in an FBI director, sir?” DeLaine asked sarcastically.
Chamberlain turned to the FBI agent and affixed her with a crocodile smile. “He undoubtedly got the information from you, Agent DeLaine, or somebody close to you in your office,” he said. “Director Lemke is indeed a capable young man, willing to spy on his own staff to get answers. That could become a liability.” He stepped closer to DeLaine, searching her eyes for any sign of weakness or sorrow for Lemke’s fate—and not finding any. He smiled at that realization. “It doesn’t matter. Within a week, all of you will be at your new base, setting up your new unit.” He kept his gaze fixed on Kelsey DeLaine’s green eyes. “You and the lovely Special Agent DeLaine are going to be the cocommanders of Task Force TALON, Major Richter. You are going to employ CID and any other high-tech gizmos you can devise to hunt down the perpetrators of the attack on Kingman City and any other terrorists around the world that threaten America.”
He turned to Sergeant Major Jefferson. “The sergeant major has already procured a base of operations for you in New Mexico. The commanding general at Fort Polk has been advised to give you all the manpower and support you need. I want you set up as soon as possible. You will use all your skills, expertise, and training, plus an extra helping of guts and audacity, to hunt down the terrorists that attacked Kingman City and bring them to justice—or destroy them. Either works for me.
“Now I know that this is not the typical chain of command, being organized and run by an NCO, but Command Sergeant Major Jefferson is the most experienced person I know to train and organize this task force,” Chamberlain went on. “I warn you not to get in his way—I’ve seen the man eat two-star generals for breakfast. You will treat him as you would myself at all times, is that clear?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Sergeant Major Jefferson.”
“Sir!”
“Take charge of Task Force TALON immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Chamberlain walked away to his limousine without saying another word to anyone, leaving Jason and Kelsey alone with Jefferson and the CID unit. “Agent DeLaine, Major Richter, Dr. Vega, listen up,” he began. “Time is critical now. Our objective is to organize and set up a base of operations to train and support TALON’s weapon systems, collect and analyze intelligence data, and begin to conduct antiterrorist operations. Within three days we need to be in place, and within ten days we need to be set up and operating.
“I have already sent a forward field deployment team to our base of operations to help get set up,” Jefferson went on. “In fact, they have been working since yesterday. They’re not familiar with FBI procedures or the CID technology, so you need to bring them up to speed as soon as possible. That means getting your supplies out to New Mexico right away.” He handed them both cellular telephones. “Speed-dial zero-zero-one for me, ask, and I’ll get it for you. You already have transports and men to help you move. Agent DeLaine, a cargo aircraft will be here at Andrews ready to take you and your gear tomorrow. Major, the plane will arrive at Alexandria ready to take your gear the day after. Be on it. Questions?”
“What ‘gear’ do we take, Sergeant?” Jason asked.
Jefferson’s eyes widened in anger, and he stepped up to Jason and stood nose to nose with him. They were of just about equal height, but Jefferson’s sheer physical presence suddenly made Jason feel very small. “Major Richter, sir,” he said between clenched teeth, “I realize you are an officer, but it appears it is necessary for me to teach you something you should already know. I am not a sergeant, I am a sergeant major. That is something recruits learn within days of starting basic training. I hope it doesn’t take you as long to learn it.” He glared once more at Richter, then went on to all of them: “Bring everything remotely connected to CID or to any of the other devices you’ve set up in this warehouse,” he said. “You can take your whole lab if it’ll fit in a C-130 Hercules. Our priority will be deploying and utilizing the CID units in the field in the quickest amount of time. I understand you have two prototypes—bring both of them. Bring as many parts and partial prototypes as you can as well.”
“How do we know who or what to bring?” Kelsey asked.
“Bring everything you can get packed and ready in two days—we’ll sort it out whe
n we get to Clovis,” Jefferson said. “The critical stuff needs to go on the plane; other things can be shipped by truck if necessary.”
“Clovis?”
“New Mexico. Cannon Air Force Base. Your new home for a while.” He detected that they were trying to think of anything they needed to ask, and the tall Marine was determined not to give them the opportunity. “That’ll be all, folks. Be at Cannon in three days, or I will come back and make life exceedingly unpleasant for you.”
He then looked directly at Jason and, addressing them all, “One more thing: in my unit, you will conform to all military discipline, dress, and appearance standards—clean shaven, clean uniform, and most important, you will conduct yourself in a professional military manner at all times, and that means inside your toy there as well as outside of it. We are not in your world now, sir—you’re in mine. Questions?”
“Just a comment, Sergeant Major.”
“What is it?”
“It would’ve been helpful if I was briefed on what you intended to do here, Sergeant Major,” Jason said. “If I had known that you were thinking about using the CID system to form an operational unit…”
“Major, I report to the National Security Adviser, and he reports only to the President of the United States and Congress, not to you,” Jefferson said. “He doesn’t need to ask you ‘pretty please’ before he decides to do something. He confers with the President, gets the go-ahead, and acts. That’s his job. I expect you to shut up and do yours, sir. Clear?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“That’s Sergeant Major, sir—don’t make me remind you again. Anything else for me, sir?”
“No, Sergeant Major.”
“Then may I strongly suggest you get a damned haircut and don’t let me see you in a dirty uniform again, sir. Now move out.”
Sergeant Major Jefferson departed immediately, leaving Jason, Ari, and Kelsey together alone with the CID unit. “Wow, dude,” Ari said to Jason. “You’re in the FBI, man. You’re a G-man. Awesome.”
“You are not in the FBI any more than I’m in the freakin’ army,” Kelsey said sternly. She opened the new cellular phone and dialed. “As far as I’m concerned, this is an FBI operation—you two and your gizmos are support, nothing more. The key to the success of our unit is intelligence, not how fast or how high this thing can go.” She said something on the phone, then turned back to Richter and Vega distractedly. “Listen, I have a lot of work to do, and so do you. I think it would be a good idea to pack up the robot here and start heading back to wherever Fort Polk is…”
“Louisiana.”
“…and be prepared to teach my staff all about CID here. But I don’t anticipate we’ll be using it right away.”
“Why not?” Jason asked. “You still prefer to go up against the bad guys with just your little pistol there?”
“The key to a successful investigation, Major, is information—timely, accurate intelligence data, carefully analyzed and strategized,” she responded. “We decide exactly what level of support we need once we’ve studied the suspects and determined their size, strength, composition, and…”
“That’s easy, Special Agent DeLaine—they’re bad guys, not suspects, and they got their hands on a nuclear device,” Jason said. “If we find them, we should go in and shut them down. CID was developed to do that with speed and power. What else is there to do?”
“Folks, I don’t have time to teach you every aspect of a successful investigation while we’re standing here,” Kelsey said impatiently. “I have lots of work to do, and so do you. I’ll meet up with you in New Mexico. Good-bye.” She turned her attention to the cellular phone, dismissing them.
“Wave bye-bye to the nice FBI agent, El Cid,” Jason said. The robot turned toward Kelsey and waved a massive mechanical right hand. Kelsey ignored it. Jason whispered something else to the robot, and it raised its arms and shook its hips in her direction. That she couldn’t ignore. She rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation and headed for the exit.
Ari gave the command to retire, and the robot folded itself up so she and Jason could pick it up and stow it in the back of the Humvee. “How soon can you break down the lab and get it ready to move, Ari?” Jason asked.
“No sweat, J,” Vega responded. “My boyfriend broke up with me, so I got nothin’ better to do than work in the lab. This is just freaky, dude, freaky. We’re going to be this top-secret bad-guy hunting posse. Awesome!”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe what, man? You think we’re being scammed or somethin’?”
Jason went into the cab of the Humvee and punched instructions into a small palm-sized computer. Moments later several unusual-looking devices appeared: two large devices that looked like giant cat-sized cockroaches crawled down the walls of the warehouse and over to them; and a trash can–sized device with a ducted fan propulsion system, mechanical arms, and a large telescopic sensor underneath slowly flew over. “I don’t think we’re being told the whole story.”
“You mean that dude Chamberlain? He is for sure one scary-assed bad boy. I mean, schizoid.”
“He’s smart, Ari,” Jason mused. “So why would he pick me for this job? I’m just an engineer. I haven’t been in the field since…well, I’ve never been in the field, unless you count Officer Candidate School or Aberdeen Proving Grounds. And what about DeLaine?”
“I think that Chamberlain guy has got the hots for her.” She glanced at Jason and smiled. “I see you checking her out too, J. You like her too? Want her to put you in handcuffs and interrogate you?”
“She’s an intelligence officer, and obviously the director thinks she’s competent,” Jason said, ignoring Ari’s remarks, “but I don’t get the feeling she’s an experienced field agent either. It looks like Chamberlain picked two newbies to run this task force. Why would he do that?”
“That grunt is gung-ho enough for all of us put together.”
“Jefferson—well, that’s easy: he’s Chamberlain’s spy. He’ll keep a close eye on us for the boss, keep us in line.”
“Well, you and me are the gadget guys, J, and Kelsey DeLaine, the G-babe, will work the intel side,” Ari said. “The grunt will keep everybody in line, and Chamberlain will take all the credit. Sounds pretty simple to me.” She slapped Jason excitedly on the shoulder. “And we get to take El Cid out into the world and take down some really evil characters. I love it!”
Jason retrieved one of the “cockroaches” and plugged it into a computer terminal built into the front cab of the Humvee. It immediately gave him a list of cellular phone calls and radio transmissions that had taken place in the past hour. “FANBOT Two is still outside?”
“Roger,” Ari said. “It’ll follow Chamberlain for another fifteen minutes or so, report on where he goes and where he stops, download his phone calls, then head on back.” She looked over Jason’s shoulder at the intercept log. “His phone is scrambled, so we can’t hear what he’s saying, but we can pick up the numbers he’s calling.”
“Some of them we can’t, apparently,” Jason said. “Completely blank numbers and EINs.”
“Bizarre,” Ari said. “I thought we had every domestic and international ID code programmed into our computers. He’s got a bunch that we’ve never scanned before.”
“Well, he is the National Security Adviser,” Jason mused. “He probably talks with military and government leaders and spooks all over the world. Still…”
“Give me and the kids a few days and we’ll break out the EINs on those calls,” Ari said. “The numbers might take a while longer.”
“See what you can do,” Jason said. “If he’s got untraceable codes then he can probably change them quickly, so it might not help us, but maybe it’ll give us clues on what kind of technology he’s using to block his codes from our scanners.”
“I’m on it, J.”
Jason scrolled through the list of intercepts until he came across a call from Kelsey’s new cellular phone, the one given to them by Cham
berlain. Clicking on the item opened up an audio media playback window:
“G-3, Cortez.”
“Hi, Rudy. It’s me. Meeting’s over.”
“New phone, Kel? I didn’t recognize the caller ID.”
“Got it from Chamberlain himself. I’ll fill you in when I get there, but I’m going to need your help. They’re sending me TDY to New Mexico. I need to build a special access server so I can get into my files on the road and search the Bureau’s intelligence database.”
“What for?”
“It’s an antiterrorist project being run by the White House. But get this: they’re pairing me up with this complete Army nerd from Louisiana.”
“That’s harsh, man,” Ari said.
“Shh.”
“Him and his even geekier sidekick have developed this…cyborg…”
“Who’s she calling a geek?” Ari protested.
“Shut it, Ari.”
“Cyborg? You’re kidding me, right?”
“It’s a robot that he can climb inside and it runs and jumps like a bat out of hell and carries cannons on its back and folds up into a suitcase.”
“Bullshit.”
“I saw it myself, Rudy. It’s pretty incredible. But the NSC thinks that we’re going to zip around the world in this thing breaking down doors and mowing down terrorists.”
“You’re shitting me. This will screw up years of investigative work.”
“I think it’s all some big power play by Chamberlain. Don’t worry—I’ll squash the cyber-Rambo wannabes. Anyway, I’m supposed to help set up this task force.”
“No way the director is going to approve you getting involved with this.”
“The director was here, Rudy. He’s not totally convinced, but he gave me the go-ahead.”
“Kingman City has got everyone flustered and running around like chickens with their heads cut off. This is bullshit.”
“I know, I know. I’ll be in major cover-my-ass mode, and I’ll need to protect the director’s six too. Fortunately the army guy and his flunky are barely one or two generations more advanced than a lab rat.”