“What do you mean?” asked Josh.
“I don’t exactly know for sure. I think the majority of people would be happy to put the Ark in a museum. But there would be a significant segment of Conservative and Orthodox Jews who would want to re-build their Temple, and restart their sacrificial system. The problem is that the Dome of the Rock—the third most holy site in Islam—sits on the place they’d want to erect their Temple. To this day, Jews call that place the, ‘Temple Mount.’
“A lot of Christians would support the construction as well. So it could potentially be very destabilizing to a region that is already very unstable. The Temple and the Dome couldn’t exist on the same piece of land. I imagine the US government and Israeli government would be upset about the discovery of the Ark. It could cause World War III, if not handled properly.”
Becca, Josh, and Elisha chatted for a few minutes more before saying their goodbyes. Josh drove past Georgetown University on Canal Street and arrived in Georgetown. The picturesque Potomac River was off to their right.
They got a table on the patio of Fiola Mare, an upscale seafood restaurant overlooking the river. Josh had made a reservation. The evening was stunning. Becca and Josh sat next to each other, breathing it all in.
The Key Bridge was to their right. Directly facing them were the many high-rise offices of Arlington, Virginia. Josh recognized the building where he tried to pitch In-Q-Tel, before General Shields selected him for the Accelerator. Further up the river, to their left, was the Watergate building and the Kennedy Center.
Becca was glad that it wasn’t humid—somewhat rare for DC this late in the summer. But she knew August would be here tomorrow. Josh ordered a Grey Goose vodka, mixed with sugar-free Red Bull. Becca drank a lemon-drop martini. Both welcomed the release, as the alcohol began to enter their bloodstream.
“I guess I should’ve asked you if you liked seafood,” said Josh, sheepishly.
“Oh, I love it,” she fibbed.
“You’re not a very good liar. Do you want to go someplace else?”
“No way. I’m going to get a fillet and salad.”
Josh ordered lobster ravioli and a side of fried shrimp. They both wanted two more drinks. “How about a Moscow Mule?”
“Yum, perfect.”
The frosty Moscow Mule cups arrived. The couple clanked their copper mugs, with a blueish patina.
“Here’s to our future,” said Josh.
“Are you thinking about the Future column?” Becca smiled.
After dinner, the couple strolled past the bars, shops, and other restaurants on M Street. Josh reached for Becca’s hand, then twirled her in like a ballerina—closer to him. Both of their hearts were pounding.
Josh leaned in, and placed his lips on hers.
There were plenty of revelers in the street this evening, although not as many as when Georgetown was in fall semester. Josh and Becca played a game of darts in one bar. Becca won. As evening fast approached morning, Josh drove Becca back to her apartment.
With the Faraday’s top-of-the-line Bang & Olufesn’s audio system blaring, Josh and Becca karaoked all the way to Columbia. It was as if they’d never not known each other.
Josh walked Becca to her front door and kissed her goodnight.
*
Josh was smitten. He’d never felt this way. He’d never experienced the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He could imagine Becca as the one. She had all the qualities he was looking for. Smart. Beautiful. Funny. He came back to smart…really smart.
Josh was thankful his Faraday had auto-pilot. He couldn’t concentrate on driving.
Chapter 14 – Sunday Meetings
11:45 a.m. (EDT), Sunday, August 2, 2020 – Columbia, MD
Second-Floor, Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility, Defense Innovations Accelerator
General Shields hunched around a beat up wooden conference table in the second-floor SCIF. The SCIF was composed of three connected rooms, including the meeting room. In addition to the table, there was a secure telephone, a whiteboard, and an in-ceiling mounted projector.
The General called for a series of rare Sunday meetings. He wanted to spur integration of Gamification Systems’ software with other firms. The first session was wrapping up.
“In summary,” said the General, “you guys have made a lot of progress in getting Fog of War to work in GAMESPACE. You think in the next four to six weeks; you’ll have it completely integrated.”
During the previous 45 minutes, the General listened to presentations detailing the steps Gamification and Velocity Games Studios were taking to enable Gamification to use Fog of War as a game within GAMESPACE.
Fog of War was an open world game. Open world video games allowed players to explore anywhere on the game map, as opposed to linear games, which forced the action to progress within a scripted storyline.
The General began the meeting by reminding everyone that the discussion would be conducted at TS//FOGGY. FOGGY was a special compartment that the General created to contain information regarding the Velocity and Gamification integration. In reaction to the highly publicized leaks of classified information, one of the DoD’s responses was to create more classified compartments.
“Yes, that’s right,” said Saul Abrams. “Fog of War uses the Unreal Engine, just like Castle Gecko. We’re going to be able to reuse a lot of our code.”
“You mean Castle Chevaliers,” interjected Samantha.
General Shields looked to Velocity’s Co-Founder. “What say you John, do you agree with Saul?”
John Vincent nodded his head in agreement. John was tall, rugged, and rich. “Yep,” he said, with a heavy Australian accent. “G-Bridge is deadly. I wouldn’t have thought it possible to do what they are doing. It’s a totally dardy piece of software. On our end, all we have to do is make Saul aware of how Fog of War works in the abstract.”
“What’d you say?” asked the General.
“Let me translate for you,” said Lin, with a sparkle in her eye. “I speak Australian. He says he likes it.”
“Yep, Darl, I do like it,” Vincent replied. He looked at Lin from head to toe, making love to her with his smoky eyes. Lin blushed. Samantha made a face.
“Outstanding,” said the General. He looked at his calendar. “So, by the week of September 14, you think you’ll be done?”
Samantha, John, and Saul collectively assented.
“Very well,” said the General, standing up from the table. “John I want to thank you for making the early morning trip from Bethesda on a Sunday.”
John nodded and replied, “Sure, General, ta.”
“Alright, this meeting is adjourned.”
“Our next meeting is in 10 minutes,” said Lin. “It’s in the sixth-floor SCIF.”
“How do I get an invite,” asked John. Lin stammered.
Samantha exited the conference room as quickly as possible. John and Lin’s flirting was on her last nerve. She peered through the doorway, directly across the small corridor. The long, rectangular room contained a row of 12 high-performance gaming PCs. It was the biggest room in the SCIF. Each workstation had its own VR gear. External VR Cameras and sensors lined its walls. Samantha could tell that the PCs and VR equipment were high-end.
She proceeded down the small corridor to the entry room. Two desks, housing much older computers, sat in the far left corner of the room. Affixed to the computer monitors were placards that read, ‘JWICS’ and ‘SIPRNet.’ The machines were powered off.
JWICS and SIPRNet were separate computer networks maintained by the DoD. To use a JWICS terminal, the user needed to possess a TOP SECRET clearance. Only documents marked TOP SECRET were available on JWICS. Accessing a SIPRNet system required a SECRET clearance. The NIPRNet was the DoD’s non-classified network. The theory was that the separation of networks and the compartmentalization hierarchy protected the nation’s secrets. The networks were not allowed to talk to one another.
The entry room also held a large file ca
binet that looked like a safe. The file cabinet was approved to store TS//FOGGY documents. Samantha opened the metal door to exit the SCIF. The door was thick and sturdy. The entire SCIF reminded Samantha of a bank vault.
She walked across the second-floor hallway, and entered Gamification Systems. Samantha saw Ali Asir programming at his desk.
“Hi, Ali.” Samantha poked her head into his office. “Thanks for coming in on a Sunday.”
Ali returned the greeting and asked, “What’s this meeting about? I thought Friday’s Gecko Insurance demo went without a hitch?”
“It did. The demo looked terrific. I feel confident about our presentation next week. The meeting that begins in five minutes, concerns a classified project that the General is going to read us into. We’re gathering in the sixth-floor SCIF. I think Saul is already up there.”
“Hmm, I’ve not had any meetings in that SCIF before?” said Ali. “What about Becca?”
“She’s not going to be read into this program. Not yet, at least. I’m working to change that. By the way, I’ve never been in the sixth-floor SCIF either. But I can tell you, the second-floor SCIF isn’t that impressive.”
*
Samantha, Ali, and Saul chatted outside the locked SCIF door. Soon, Shields and Lin arrived from his office down the hallway.
Samantha glared at Lin. She didn’t think anything was going on between the General and Lin, but she didn’t know for sure. General Shields was cheating on his wife. Samantha didn’t like being the other woman, but Lisa was so mean to her husband. And Samantha was stressed. The relationship was an escape. Now, there were consequences. She didn’t want to say anything about Lin or be too pushy about Becca. She couldn’t rock the boat now; she needed the Gecko Insurance deal to close.
Lin made sure everyone rid themselves of any cell phone and electronic gadgets, storing the items outside the SCIF. They could be placed in either lockers or cubby holes. Shields left his phone in a cubby hole. Lin unlocked the SCIF door. Everyone had to sign-in, using pencil and paper to record their entry and exit. The anteroom of the sixth-floor SCIF was similar in appearance to the second-floor SCIF, complete with its SIPRNet and JWICS drops and a safe. Aside from this entry room, the configuration was much different. There were two locked doors, on the north and west sides of the anteroom. The locks looked sophisticated to Samantha.
General Shields led Lin, Samantha, Ali, and Saul to the western door. Shields placed his palm on the scanner attached to the wall. After a brief moment, he typed in a numeric code. The door opened, and they all walked into an exquisite conference room. It was much more ornate, elaborate, and advanced than its counterpart on the second-floor. The shiny conference table looked brand new. Every item, from the whiteboard to the projector, was nicer—and more expensive.
As the Gamification team made their way into their brown leather chairs, there was a knock on the SCIF’s metal entry door. “Excuse me,” said the General, “that must be Swarmbot.”
“Swarmbot?” blurted Samantha. Samantha had met the Swarmbot executives only one time before. They hadn’t attended the eight-week introductory course for the Accelerator.
*
General Shields opened the front door and exited the SCIF.
“Good afternoon, Gentlemen,” said Shields. “Please make sure to leave your phones and electronics outside.”
Swarmbot Corporation’s key executives were Ken Sazuki, Hideki Sato, and Chris Fischer. All three held TS/SCI clearances. Ken and Hideki were both short, geeky men, of Japanese origin. Ken was loquacious and jovial. Hideki spoke so softly; he was hard to hear. Chris was five foot eleven. He wore khakis and a white dress shirt that hid his runner’s frame. His sleeves were rolled up.
The General glanced at his phone in the cubby hole. There were two text messages. One was from his wife; the other was from Josh Adler. He read Josh’s text. ‘General, I want to meet with you ASAP to discuss big progress. Can I call Lin to get on your schedule?’
General Shields replied, ‘Great news! If able, I’m at the Accelerator now. I can meet in about 90 minutes. Or, schedule later with Lin.’
*
Everyone now assembled in the conference room. The General led the round of introductions, briefly highlighting why the Accelerator chose to invest in Swarmbot and Gamification Systems.
Ken Sazuki was CEO and Co-Founder of Swarmbot, while Hideki Sato was CTO and Swarmbot’s other Co-Founder. Chris Fischer introduced himself as the Chief Engineer of Robotics.
General Shields described Swarmbot as an incredibly innovative startup. “Swarmbot markets a line of advanced intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance—ISR—drones. Right now, the Swarmbots are remotely controlled. Over time, we expect that they’ll become fully autonomous robots, with a human override capability. They’ll also get smaller, and their Swarm intelligence will improve. The drones operate in clusters to accomplish tactical objectives. We’re going to use Swarmbots to stealthily track the Caliphate.”
Ken met General Shields when he was Commander of the 24th Air Force in San Antonio, Texas. Ken recognized that the 24th was a natural stepping stone to DIRNSA for Shields. Sazuki went out of his way to maintain contact with the General. The foresight paid off.
DIRNSA wore more than one hat. Shields was also the Commander of CYBERCOM. CYBERCOM was a relatively young organization, officially only reaching full operational capability in late 2010. Establishment of CYBERCOM was a significant moment for the DoD. It memorialized the fact that the Department of Defense formally recognized cyber as an official war-fighting domain—on par with land, sea, air, and space.
Many critics questioned the wisdom vesting so much power in one man. But separating the organizational leadership for such a nebulous concept as ‘cyber,’ was sure to cause destructive turf battles.
NSA’s mandate was to spy on foreign communications and protect the DoD’s networks from foreign adversaries. In a word, the NSA provided defense. The NSA had no mandate to destroy foreign countries’ systems or engage in offensive cyberwar on enemies. CYBERCOM was the offense. They were authorized to wage war in the cyber-domain. The first publicly disclosed instance of US cyberwar was the Stuxnet virus, discovered in 2010.
The Stuxnet virus hampered the Iranian nuclear program by infiltrating programmable logic controllers in Iranian nuclear facilities. The PLC hacks caused centrifuges, which were used to enrich uranium, to spin too fast and break. CYBERCOM, Israel, and GCHQ jointly developed Stuxnet. GCHQ stood for Government Communications Headquarters. GCHQ was the British equivalent of the NSA.
When Ken first met the General, DARPA was funding Swarmbot. While at the 24th, Shields told Ken that he loved the Swarmbot concept. But the General didn’t think Swarmbots were ready for primetime. And Shields didn’t have any research and development money available.
When the Accelerator was green-lighted by Congress, Ken was pleased that he received one of the General’s first calls. As they spoke of the capabilities and cost-effectiveness of Swarmbot, General Shields told Ken that he thought Swarmbots were a game changer for ISR.
Over time, Ken’s team had significantly improved the Swarmbot technology. The company also wooed Chris Fischer from a high-level position at Marvel Defense Systems, a major aerial drone manufacturer.
Shields first offered Swarmbot a $5M investment for 25% equity. Ken and Hideki had more room to negotiate than either Gamification or CyberAI. They actually had a growing revenue stream. Municipal police forces provided the bulk of Swarmbot’s sales. They used the drones to augment their SWAT teams.
Swarmbot had trouble landing DoD contracts, despite the DARPA funding. The US Army and Air Force seemed much more interested in purchasing from established suppliers. They were also more inclined to buy large, ruggedized robot or missile-equipped drones. More expensive systems ultimately required bigger budgets. Washington DC talked about budgets in the same way that Silicon Valley spoke of valuations. It was how everyone kept score.
Sazuki also approach
ed the CIA. They too, were more interested in ever larger, lethal aerial drones. Even when Ken demonstrated the new Swarmbot mini-drone configuration, the company couldn’t land a DoD or Intelligence Community contract.
Ken felt that if Swarmbots were more expensive, he might have gained more traction. The average cost of an aerial drone was $20M, without missiles. The average cost of a Swarmbot was under $2M. And the cost would come down with volume.
Sazuki couldn’t put his finger on it, but he sensed that expensive drones were selected to make sure that the purchaser’s budget wasn't slashed next year, not because they were the best product available.
With the investment from Defense Innovations Accelerator, Ken and Hideki hoped that the five-star General would champion Swarmbot within DoD. Swarmbot countered Shields’ original offer with $5M for 10%. They settled on $6.75M for 15%, and a board seat. The General had another, more electronics-oriented member of the Accelerator, take the board seat.
Chasm Waxing: A Startup, Cyber-Thriller Page 11