Storm Surge

by Melissa Good

  Alastair chuckled. "I don't have to keep up. That's why I have you." He put his hands behind his head and stretched. "Wasn't bad dinner, eh?"'

  "Very good, matter of fact," Dar agreed. "Sure beats chicken Florentine or three cheese pasta, which would have been our choices otherwise." She put the magazine down and got up to wander to the back of the cabin and stretch her legs.

  There was an open space there, enough for her to stand and extend her arms. She did so, and twisted her body back and forth to loosen up the stiff muscles in her back.

  "Now what are you doing?" Alastair asked.

  "Jumping jacks," Dar replied. "Wanna join me?"

  Her boss leaned on his chair arm and craned around to watch her. "My last jumping jack was in basic training when I was eighteen years old, way before you were born," he informed her. "My idea of strenuous exercise is letting the caddy drive the cart on the golf course."

  "Ugh." Dar tested the luggage rack's strength, then she gripped them and let her body drop back, tensing her shoulders as they took her weight. "I can't handle golf," she said. "I don't have the patience for it. I end up hunting for grasshoppers and losing track of what hole I'm on."

  Alastair snickered. "Y'know, I can picture that," he said. "You do sports though, don't you? I thought I remember seeing some pictures of you winning some karate tournament or something, and Bea said you were all joining a softball league down there."

  Dar lowered herself to the ground and decided on a few pushups. "I do sports," she conceded. "I've been doing martial arts since I was a kid." She settled into a smooth rhythm, glad for the distraction. "Lets me let off some steam." She paused, her body held up off the floor and peered up at Alastair. "You saw pictures?"

  "Sure," Alastair said. "Kerry's quite a photographer." He watched Dar as she merely looked at him, remaining in place. "How long can you stay like that?"

  "Long as I have to." Dar pressed herself up into a handstand and felt her back relax as gravity inverted. "I'd forgotten she put that in the department news blurb." She crossed her ankles and pondered the matter. "They wanted me to continue in that circuit, but I figured I'd quit while I was ahead and not push my luck."

  "Mm." Her boss got up and sat on his chair arm to better watch her, extending his legs across the aisle. "Yeah, I'd rather you didn't risk getting kicked in the head," he said. "You get into enough damned situations as it is."

  Dar bent her elbows, then pushed off gently from the floor of the aircraft and flipped herself upright, shaking her arms as blood returned from her head to the rest of her where it belonged. "It's been a little crazy the last year or so," she conceded. "Maybe I'm just doing more."

  "Maybe you actually got a life." Alastair's eyes twinkled. "I used to worry about you sleeping under your desk down in that office."

  Dar snorted softly. "I've got a perfectly good couch in there. What kind of a nitwit do you think I am?" But she smiled to take the sting from the words. "But yeah, maybe." She sat down on the arm of the chair across from Alastair. "Feels like it's been busier."

  "Been good for you," her boss concluded. "Hasn't it?"

  "Hell yeah. Wouldn't have traded a minute of it." She stuck her hands in the pockets of her cargo pants. "But I don't think what we're going through now counts."

  Alastair's face grew serious. "No," he said. "I'm sure this is going to have a lot of consequences." He folded his arms over his chest. "You can bet on a military response. I sent a note to Ham to review our contracts with the service branches to see what we're obligated for."

  Dar nodded. "I thought of that," she said. "I'm having Mark spool up the new tech groups to start reviewing everything they can get their hands on.

  don't know what they'll ask for. I have a feeling Gerry's need to talk to me is something along those lines."

  "I figured the same."

  Dar exhaled and looked around the plane, then back at Alastair. "Are we there yet?"

  Her boss chuckled wryly.

  They turned as the forward door opened, and the steward appeared. "The captain wanted me to tell you he's submitted the new flight plan, but he's been told it needs to be cleared by the U.S. Government, even though we're not going to encroach on U.S. airspace."

  "Ah."

  "It's very tense," the steward explained. "We had to forward a manifest to them. I hope neither of you has any outstanding issues in the States, because that could be a problem."

  Alastair and Dar glanced at each other. "Well," Alastair said. "We both have dozens of outstanding issues but they're not personal ones. I believe they'll be glad enough to let us by." He thought a moment. "Maybe we can ask them for permission to land, while we're at it."

  "I don't know about that sir," the steward looked mildly alarmed. "The people I heard the captain talking to really didn't sound very friendly. We really don't want trouble. We didn't contract for that."

  Alastair held a hand up. "Hold on there, son. We're not looking for trouble either. We work for a company with a lot of government contracts, and it's possible they'd make an exception because there are issues they're looking to us to solve. Chances are when they put our names into their system..."

  "Which I wrote," Dar commented, in a mild tone, peering back at her boss when he looked at her in surprise. "That was before I got a life," she clarified, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I had more time back then."

  Alastair scratched the back of his neck, and shook his head. "Anyway, when they call us up, they might say something about it."

  The steward didn't look reassured. "Well, I'll let the captain handle all that," he said. "Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?"

  "Got any ice cream?" Dar inquired.

  "Ah, yes. I think we do." The steward nodded. "Sir?" He turned to Alastair. "Would you like some as well?"

  Alastair reseated himself. "Not for me, thanks." He lifted a hand. "I'll take a glass of cognac though."

  "Very good, sir, I'll be right back." The steward disappeared again behind the service door, leaving them in solitude.

  Dar fell backwards into her seat, sprawling sideways across the chair with her legs over one arm and her head resting on the other. She studied the ceiling of the airplane and wished the time would just go damned faster. "Hope they don't give them trouble."

  "Got a lot of scared folks down there," Alastair said. "Did you really write that system?"

  "Uh huh," she said. "It's just a flexible relational database with a custom index. Not that big a deal," she said. "The biggest pain in the ass was writing the API they wanted so they could connect it up to other government systems and exchange data."

  "Mm. What other systems did they hook up to?"

  "None." Dar crossed her ankles. "That's why it was a pain in the ass. I wrote it so it was a standard data exchange interface, and every other god damned system in the government was a) different, and b) proprietary, so no one could talk to them anyway."

  "Oh, for Pete's sake," he said. "So what do they do?"

  "Export to a flat file and re-import." Dar folded her hands across her stomach. "Know how long that takes?"

  "Especially in a situation like this? Too long." Alastair shook his head. "We should do something about that." He took out his PDA. "I'll have Ivan work up a white paper to pass around after this is settled down a little."

  Dar considered that as she waited for the steward to return with her much needed dessert. "Wonder what's going on in Herndon?" she asked. "Hope they're not giving Kerry too hard a time. "

  Alastair gave her a wry look, which she missed. "I'm sure she can handle it."

  "I'm sure she can too. It's just that people try to take advantage of her because she's not a big mean looking macho dude," Dar said. "Then she has to kick them in the ass a few times before she gets their respect and frankly, that sucks."

  The steward slipped back in with a tray. "The captain will be coming back to speak with you both in a few minutes. We've got some additional questions from the U.S. government." He moved
forward, pausing as Dar shifted her position to a more normal one and swung her tray out in place. "Right now, they aren't clearing us to fly south of Florida."

  "I thought they only control their local airspace?" Dar asked. "How in the hell can they stop someone from flying to Central America?"

  The steward put a bowl down on her tray. "Ma'am, I don't' know. You can ask the captain." He turned and put Alastair's snifter down, filled halfway with a clear golden liquid. "Right now, we're considering just withdrawing the request and continuing on our original flight plan, which was approved. It will be a rough ride, but at least we'll get there."

  Alastair sighed, and picked up the glass. "Well." He swirled it. "Sorry if it caused a hassle. If that's what we need to do, then we do. Got any seasick pills? I don't tolerate turbulence well and I'd hate to hand you back your nice dinner."

  "We can provide some, of course," the steward looked relieved. "Ma'am, I can get you some as well."

  Dar waved her hand no as she was busy with a mouthful of ice cream.

  "Captain Roberts sails the bounding main on a regular basis," Alastair chuckled. "I don't think she needs any help."

  The door opened again and the captain stuck his head in. "Folks, we've got trouble," he said seriously. "I'm being instructed to land in Nassau. The U.S. military are grounding us for inspection."

  Dar licked off her spoon. "What?"

  "That's crazy." Alastair put his glass down and got up. "C'mon, son. Let me go talk to these people." He headed for the door to the service area. "I'll throw some names around. We'll get it sorted out."

  "Sir I--" The pilot had to either back out of the way, or get hit by Alastair's forward motion, and he chose the better part of valor and moved. "We can see if they'll talk to you, but they were pretty explicit."

  "I'll be explicit, too." Alastair shooed him toward the cockpit. He glanced back at Dar. "Now let me see if I can go earn my paycheck."

  Dar shook her head. "Crazy."

  "I hope the gentleman knows what he's doing," the steward said, unhappily. "I heard those people on the other end, and I don't think they're going to appreciate someone questioning them." He looked at Dar. "This is very intimidating."

  Dar found herself caught in the dilemma of both being concerned about the situation, and guiltily happy about the possibility of being on the ground with the ability to get hold of Kerry. "I'm sure it'll work out," she told the man. "It's probably just a misunderstanding."

  "I sure hope so," the steward muttered. "I knew I should have called in sick today."

  KERRY WAS GLAD enough to bypass the stately main entrance to their Herndon office and use the staff door instead. There were two big, black, ominous looking SUVs parked near the front and she wanted a few minutes to get herself settled before she had to interact with the people who'd come in them.

  "This way." Nan led her through the door pausing to scan her badge, then her handprint at the glass double door inside. "Wait for me to go through, then scan. It should validate you." She waited, nodding her head a little bit as the system pondered for a while then clicked and turned green. "Eventually."

  "Guess we'll find out." Kerry waited for the door to close behind her guide before she removed her badge from her lapel and held it against the sensor, then presented her palm on the glass plate when it glowed.

  It turned green instantly and the door opened. Kerry's brow twitched a little, but she pushed the door open and let it close, then opened the inner door which clicked when the outer locked. She rejoined Nan and glanced around, finding the sedate gray and maroon interior weirdly familiar. "I see we had the same interior decorators."

  Nan chuckled. "You mean here and Miami?" she asked. "Is it the same?"

  "Pretty much." Kerry followed her down a long hallway inset with cherry wood doors. It was thickly carpeted and quiet, despite all the unsettled chaos. "I'll need a workspace," she said. "But I'd like to stop in at Operations first."

  "Right." Nan nodded. "Bob Willingsly is getting an office set up for you. He said it would be about five more minutes." She indicated a large security door just ahead in the corridor. "That's ops." She stood back to let Kerry pass her. "I'm not credentialed for that."

  Kerry gave her a brief smile. "Well, thanks. I appreciate the ride, and the tour," she said. "I'll be back shortly. I want to check things out." She went over to the door and pressed her badge against the sensor, then offered her palm to the reader. The door clicked without hesitation, and she pushed it open.

  "Hey, Ms. Stuart?" Nan called after her. "You do something special to your badge to get it to clear that fast? We'd love to copy whatever it is. Takes ours forever."

  Kerry glanced back. "I know the designer," she admitted. "I'll see what I can do." She entered the ops center and let the door close behind her, turning to face the operations staff who were standing as they spotted her. "Morning guys."

  The operations center, like the one in Miami, was a half circle of admin stations behind a heavy desk spaced with chairs on the inside curve. Unlike the one she was familiar with though, behind the console there was a big, intimidating plate glass double wall separating the operators from the data center equipment they managed.

  "Ms. Stuart!" A man hurried forward, extending his hand. "Dave Draper. We've talked many times."

  "We have." Kerry smiled at him. "It's good to meet you, Dave, but I wish it wasn't for this reason," she said. "I hear we have visitors already."

  "Sure do," Dave said. He was a man in his mid forties, with thinning dark hair and a square jaw. "We're real glad you're here. Those folks are getting pretty mean," he told her. "My boss, Ken, is with them, but I know he'll be glad to see you too."

  "I bet." Kerry put her briefcase down on a nearby chair. "Okay, before I go mess with them give me the five cent and bring me up to speed on what the status is."

  "Sure." Dave turned and faced the room. The console operators were all busy at their desks, but each had turned their chair just a bit so they could watch what was going on.

  Kerry could see the global meeting place screen on their monitors, split with various console ops applications that monitored the traffic and data that ran through the center.

  "Y'know we've got a mix here," Dave said, pointing to the secured space. "One side is the government racks, they're green, and the other side is the commercial ones. They are that flat gray color. We keep the cabling and everything color marked so no one gets confused and connects the wrong thing to the wrong infrastructure."

  Kerry nodded. "Looks very good," she complimented him. "Dar would approve."

  Dave managed a grin at that. "Anyway," he said, "The only thing they share is the net d-marc. Ms. Roberts put in a parallel infrastructure, but they all terminate to the same blocks in the back. That's where this guy wanted to put his thing."

  Kerry folded her arms. "What did he want to connect it to?"

  "That's just it," Dave said. "He wanted us to let his guys in there, and let them connect it to whatever they wanted to."

  "Oh hell no," Kerry said. "What are they nuts?"

  "I heard them, ma'am." The nearest of the console ops had turned around. "They said they were trying to find the terrorists, and we had to let them."

  "That's right," Dave said. "So we have console ops here, split into two sides. The left side is government, the right side is commercial, and John here was the man on ops when it all came down yesterday on the government side."

  Kerry remembered the voice. "Hello, John." She extended her hand to the tech. "Thanks for the great job."

  The lanky, blond man blinked and accepted her grip. His eyes had shadows under them, and he looked tired. "Thank you ma'am. I hope I never, ever have to do that again."

  "Me too," Kerry agreed. She looked up at all the operators, who were now openly watching her. "Everyone did a good job. Everyone's doing a great job today, and we're just beginning. I think everyone here knows that the hard part's just starting."

  The men all nodded.


  "Show me the big board." Kerry turned to Dave. "I want to see what we're up against in bringing services back before I talk to those folks in the guest center."

  "Sure." Dave walked over to the other side of the ops console and turned, pointing at the large screen display with the trace work of connectivity for the resources the office was responsible for.

  Kerry exhaled, seeing the big red circle around the Pentagon, and the scattering of outages around that area due to the loss of infrastructure. "Boy, that's a lot of damage."

  "Problem was we were using one drop room," Dave said. "Cause the other one was in the section that got taken out." He sighed. "So you'd figure we'd be fine, but the other drop room was at the inner edge of the area and it got trashed, and the one under construction is--well..."

  "Still under construction," Kerry finished for him.

  "Yes ma'am."

  "Okay." Kerry knew there wasn't much she could do from the office. "I'm going to need a ride out there after I finish with these guys. I have resources coming up, but I want to see the lay of the land firsthand."

  "Nan will take you," Dave said. "She's all yours whatever you need."

  Kerry retrieved her briefcase. "Then let's get this over with." She motioned for him to precede her. "Lead on. I could guess where the guest conference room is based on the floor plan, but you probably don't want me wandering around knocking on doors."

  Dave managed a smile at that and led the way out the door. He opened the door with his badge. "You'll have to clear through after me. We have a scan in, scan out policy."

  "Sure." Kerry waited for him to pass through then followed. She took the few minutes the walk through the halls afforded her to concentrate on relaxing as much as she could, and preparing herself mentally for what she suspected was not going to be a pleasant confrontation.

  She didn't really mind confrontation any more. She hadn't liked it much when she'd first started with ILS, but over the months she'd gradually gotten herself used to the stress of it, getting her mind around the fact that it wasn't so very different than her debating challenges had been way back when.