by Td Barnes
Both Barlow and Callahan greeted him when he entered. He looked around the alcove where he noticed the radiation level monitor and those of the outdoor cameras and motion detectors now installed in the Command Center.
The new Command Center appeared bland compared with the War Room’s electronic consoles, big screens, desks containing computer flat screen monitors connected to the MacBook Air notebook computers supplied the mountain. The wall of the alcove provided perimeter maps showing guard posts, infrastructure, trenches, and guard outposts. A bulletin board displayed the guard duty schedules and routine notices of information for military and civilians alike. An entire row depicted nothing but work schedules ranging from mess hall duty, latrine duty, tunnel cleanup police details, to livestock duty at the south portal. Bradley noted with satisfaction the entry of two names, taking note of the schedule of their commitment at the south entrance.
“We have a situation,” he said to start his briefing them of the new developments in special projects. He concluded his briefing with an intriguing question, wondering what might be on the hard drive of the computers of his former cyber-warfare nerds. Seeing Callahan take the hint, he dropped the subject and told them about Dawson having her baby.
As expected, Barlow ribbed him about the grandpa bit with Callahan supporting her with a wide grin but staying out of this mix.
“What is our count now?” Bradley asked.
“Twelve, with 14 on the way,” she said with pride.
He retaliated by saying, “It’s great, Colonel, what you are doing to support our populating the planet. Are you giving any thought to how you are going to care for us aging grandparents? Do we get our social security?”
“You just to ruin my day, didn’t you, Tom? She said laughing. Deep down, they all shared this looming concern.
####
The next morning
Like sonic waves, waves of excitement rippled through the alcove when Bradley entered with his usual mug of coffee in hand and Sarge trailing behind. By Mitchell grinning, while working at his computer and Doctor Hains’ crew likewise acting excited told him something significant had occurred overnight.
“Colonel, you will not believe this,” Silverman exclaimed. “We have good news and bad news.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What is the bad news?”
“A delayed EMP took out the hard drive of Carlo’s computer. We hear that while he was working at the feedlot, it wiped his computer clean.”
“That’s terrible,” said Bradley with his quirky grin. “What is the good news?”
“Someone inside the mountain somehow dropped a perfectly working hard drive just outside our alcove. We are about to look at it to see if we can determine the owner.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Bradley with mock happiness. “Let’s not keep whomever it is waiting.”
Mitchell amusedly chuckled to himself at the staged performance. Like the others, he could expect to learn what the hard drive contained.
It was all Bradley could do not to grab the hard drive and exploit its information himself. Delegating something like this to his people came difficult for him. Nonetheless, he refused to let himself become a leader known for micromanaging everything. He could not be of help to Mitchell because with what equipment Mitchell available to him could only intercept weather data. The next move rested on Doctor Hains and his people determining the existence of jamming of the United States satellites in high orbit. Out of habit, he glanced at the radiation level and saw it still at a safe level. At least the readings were fluctuating from day to day, an indication of the detectors being safe from tampering.
Bradley drifted outside the north portal door to remove himself from being a distraction to work occurring in the special project alcove. Sarge followed behind him to where they found a few members of the colony killing time as he was doing.
Bradley scanned the horizon and then the sky looking for any anomalies. He saw a blue sky splashed with resplendent sunshine while his mind recalled the years of nothing but smoky haze, black snow, and lethal radiation levels. A few clouds drifted above, but overall, the world looked at peace. He wished this could be true, but knew better,
He stared across the desert while thinking back to past wars of his career, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Iran if what he did to assist Israel counted. He picked up a cactus carcass, examined it, and flung it into the desert, thinking about his latest war, the war on terrorism. This war lacked a terminal point and involved an unknown enemy with hidden objectives and capabilities. He wondered, “Are we about to enter a new war or is this looming threat a continuation of the war on jihadism yet to be fought?”
His thoughts turned to his experiences in the intelligence world and with satellites. In conventional satellite communication up and downlinks, the satellite utilized an antenna that connected to a receiver unit and a transmitter unit. Typically, each of these elements required separate devices that combined, connected to the satellites’ internal command and data handling system or onboard computer.
He thought about the two ongoing operations inside the alcove. From the satellite sought by Mitchell, he expected to find a continuous stream of data beaming to earth to any antenna, receiver, and decoder programmed for access to the data much like a GPS satellite.
Hains and his people, on the other hand, sought a satellite that responded only to data or commands transmitted to it from another source. Like Mitchell’s type satellite, an antenna, receiver, and decoder then received this response for use by those having access, encrypted, be it authorized or intercepted.
A deep frown embedded in Bradley’s forehead, displaying the depth of his thought as his mind raced through all the possibilities. What if an adversary of the United States placed in orbit, satellites designed to generate and transmit a strong enough signal to override or destroy our satellites, even those in high orbit? China is done so with the EMP devices, so, one could not rule out them having attack satellites as well. The United States and much of the world proven with the EMP attack, global unpreparedness, and lack of methodologies to prevent almost any space Pearl Harbor. Such an adversary needed only a means of transmitting a largely modulated carrier to the receiving terminal of a target approximating the same frequency of the signal the United States’ satellites tried to prevent. This would have flooded the receiver with a noise signal and prevented the interpretation of any target signal. Worse yet, what if they possessed kinetic munitions, and particle weapons to engage in cyber-warfare?
Sarge rescued Bradley from his deep thoughts when he barked and dashed to greet Ray and Sammie strolling towards them. Both petted the poodle who acted as though they came to see him.
“Hi, dad,” Sammie greeted her father. Ray and Bradley exchanged nods but did not verbally greet each other.
“I haven’t seen you in Stinkyville in three days. Your horse thinks you have gone AWOL. Mom gets her ride in each morning, but says your new project has you swamped.”
“When the breeze is right, we get enough of the feedlot smell of your Stinkyville all the way up here. The new ventilation system must be working well.”
Bradley looked down and then, with his head cocked, glanced upwards at Ray. “You know, Ray—a strange thing happened yesterday. Someone found a hard drive and dropped it at the warfare center.”
Ray acted surprised. “No shit,” he said in mock surprise. “You don’t say? Did it have anything useful on it?”
“I do not know yet. My people are exploiting it now. It might have something that a CIA puke like you might be interested in.”
“I can wait.”
Bradley gazed up into the heavens, playing with the hair on the back of his neck while in deep thought. “I have a question for my two favorite CIA operatives. Is the Grizzly capable of zapping a stationary satellite?”
“If you are talking geosynchronous, dream on. Satellite to satellite killer—maybe. Surface to satellite—it would take a missile, and for geosynchronous, even that may be impo
ssible. Are you at liberty to tell me why you ask?”
“Pardon, my French, Sammie. I think someone is fucken with us.”
“Us or the United States in general,” Ray asked.
“I don’t know.” Bradley signed. “Let’s see if my nerds found anything on that hard drive. Sammie, you are welcome to come with us to see.”
####
Chapter 5-Betrayal
Bradley paid any attention to the banks of radios or the radio operator on duty when he entered the radio compartment of the War Room alcove and headed to the nerd corner.
The cleanness of the radio consoles bored him, whereas the cluttered nerd corner beckoned him. Coaxial cables strung from one piece of equipment to another, three of them hanging on the rock wall to splice into preexisting wires from when this alcove was the control room during the construction of the tunnel. The smell of hot solder flux, the hum of electronics at work, drawings, notes, and schematics lying among technical manuals and references drew his interest like a magnet. He was like a wildcatting oilman whose excitement came with the drilling. Once the well was in production, it became a tiresome necessity like the radio consoles. He sought the thrill and adventure of the chase but became bored after the catch. Now, he was in full pursuit, his adrenaline surging.
To honor the need-to-know protocol to which he adamantly adhered, Bradley never sought to learn the identity of the members of Area 51 special projects team revealed to him by Mitchell. The way Mitchell accepted the presence of Sammie and Ray in the classified special projects alcove identified two of the members to him. This effectively filled the remaining slots on his special projects team, combining the photo surveillance via Mitchell, cyber-warfare, and now the Grizzly weapon.
Doctor Hains left his two assistances working at a computer to join Bradley when he entered. In doing so, he grabbed a notepad of notes, which indicated to all his intention to brief them on his progress. Mitchell left his console to join them at the conference table.
“Thank you, Ray, for the hard drive,” revealing to all the culprits of the previous evening’s covert activity. Bronson gave Mitchell a two-finger salute but said nothing.
Hains smiled at this subtle way of crediting a nonparticipating member of special projects inside the mountain. “Yes, thank you, Ray.” He looked towards the two still working on extracting information from the drive. “Thanks to my cyber wizards as well for some most impressive results.”
Hains scanned his notes before saying anything more. “We have not recovered a smoking gun yet, but have found enough cyber residue to support a large amount of concern. Our boy deleted some files, but, he did not reformat his drive. Our guys did succeed in recovering the data.”
Everyone at the table awaited the details. He glanced at his notes again.
“Seems Homeland Security sent us a geek seeking recognition for his computer smarts. Instead of a hacker/cracker dichotomy, he is a member of several groups who give more emphasis to acquiring a standing in a spectrum of different categories. They have a white hat, gray hat, black hat, and script kiddie. This joker rates as a cracker for his more malicious activity. A cracker or cracking gains unauthorized access to a computer to commit another crime such as destroying information contained in that system. Before the EMP, and after going to work for Homeland, he attended a DEF CON hack fest in Las Vegas, where he and others organized and competed in group exploit and forensics.”
Hains considered Bradley’s eyes as he resumed.
“I am now more concerned about his religious leanings than his hacktivism. We found a considerable amount that indicates his conversion to Islam. This accounts for his hacking into the server at NSA.”
Bradley exploded. “That is why Homeland Security hired the son-of-a-bitch. Lord help us if we profiled someone with a sheet on their head, bulges around the waistline resembling a bomb vest, beards, and riding a rug while screaming love of their religious leader. We hired them so they would grow to love us. And now, here we are protecting one that I would not trust any further than I can Frisbee spin a fresh cow pile.”
“Gentlemen that is it for now. It should not take long to know what other deleted data, we can recover off the hard drive. I bet that if we access to his computer, we will find a vulnerability scanner used to locate open network ports for detecting what program or service is listening on that port, and its version number.”
“Lieutenant Bronson,” Bradley addressed Sammie. “This scumbag is on livestock detail in your area. Be on your toes should he take an interest in the Grizzly at the south portal.”
“Yes, sir.” She glanced at the clock. “It is almost noon, sir. Have time for lunch with the Bradley clan, mom, Ray, Jer, Jamie, and I?”
Jeremy Bradley, who went by Jer or Jez, looked to have gotten his looks from his mother’s side of the family, whereas his sister, Sammie resembled their dad with both having dark hair and a slightly darker complexion from his bit of the Cherokee Indian bloodline.
The EMP caught Jerry attending spring break in Death Valley with his UNLV classmate, Jamie Ellis.
Stranded in Death Valley, they managed to hook up with the cattle drive out of the nearby Amargosa Valley to the mountain. Inside the mountain,
Jerry joined the Army to become an Army surgeon and was now working on the study of the doctors inside the mountain. Also, after entering the mountain, Jamie, Jerry, Sammie, and Ray married in a joint marriage ceremony. With Jerry was studying to be a doctor, Jamie elected to work as a nurse inside the mountain.
Bradley noticed while approaching the others waiting in the mess hall that Stacey dressed western, Jerry and Jamie wore medical scrubs; Ray wore blue jeans, while Sammie and he wore the Army Desert ACU combat uniform.
“Something smells good,” Bradley said. He looked towards the kitchen where he saw Dr. Kathy Sanders talking to the chef and showing the cooks how to prepare something. “Uh oh,” Bradley said. “Looks like Kathy is making up some experiment from the space garden again,” he said.
“Brewing is more like it. She has already warned us,” Jerry replied.
“Oh? Good or bad?” Bradley asked.
“Well, it doesn’t sound like sirloin.”
“Oh, no. Some more of those swimming fleas and moss, algae, whatever the hell she calls it that she serves all mixed as gumbo.”
“Now Tom, you be nice. Doctor Sanders takes her garden seriously.”
“She said it is out of this world,” Jamie added.
“Now, that helps my appetite, Jamie,” Bradley pretend scolded. “And, I suppose it tastes like chicken.”
“I see the Barlows, and Callahan's coming,” Sammie announced.
Bradley turned and caught their attention to get them to join the Bradley family.
While enjoying a fun and relaxing lunch with the three families, Bradley noticed the number of civilians having switched back to civilian clothing. It pleased him that they were losing their military appearance should they be under surveillance. As Callahan and he discussed, everyone dressing as civilian while outdoors would avoid the appearance of being military and would save the military uniforms for future military use.
“Lane, I think we need to restock our supplies before winter sets in again. We need to ensure future availability of not only clothing, but also little things like eyeglasses, pharmacy items, and Lordy, let us not forget toilet paper. I propose we make another raid on Las Vegas now while we can.”
“I concur,” Callahan said. “Sergeant Stratton reported from his clothing raid that the Walmart, Walgreen, and warehouse outlets such as Costco still have their pre-EMP inventory except for food items. I can’t imagine there being many left in the cities needing such things.”
Stacey, as always, spoke up to represent her passion, the livestock. “The farmers need some clear corrugated polycarbonate roofing panels for the greenhouses,” Stacey added. “We need to hit some tack shops and farrier supplies for horseshoes, nails, and all the tack gear we can find for our horses. Oh, also includ
e some udder balm for the nursing cows.”
“Sergeant Stratton’s recon squad located several military trucks in at a warehouse on Craig Road in North Las Vegas. I suggest we do as before and use them to deliver our supplies back to the mountain,” Callahan added.
While the others thought regarding future individual needs, Bradley’s mind inventoried the supplies of the mountain for items requiring replenishing or missed during the stocking of the mountain after the EMP.
His mind drifted to the four Starquest personnel sheltered inside the mountain. He wondered if Starquest Aerospace botanist, Dr. Kathy Sanders needed anything from the Starquest facility in North Las Vegas for her photosynthesis gardens.
His thoughts turned to Doctor Kennedy, Starquest’s logistics engineer responsible for colonizing the extraterrestrial moon, Mars, and even asteroid venues. He addressed Callahan, “During the supplying of the mountain after the EMP, no one anticipated the nuclear bombs to follow., no one supplied us with one item that we need. Check with Dr. Kennedy to see if Starquest any spacesuits at its facility. These would enable us to go on the mountain while under siege by a nuclear winter storm.”
This suggested SMG Weston’s venture outdoors to repair the motion detectors and cameras after the attack on the mountain a little over three years, ago. “I’ll get right on it, sir.”
“If you are going to do this, Callahan, I recommend you do it soon.” He proceeded to brief the others about the traitor and the probability of an unknown foreign enemy knowing the existence of the mountain. “We are under a cyber blackout attack and do not even know it.”
“What do you propose we do, sir?” Callahan asked.
“Let’s not tip our hands that we know or suspect anything. We do not know yet if he contacted anyone on the outside or wanted to. To be on the safe side, we must wonder if he has turned jihadist. Keep him contained for now. We have another that Homeland Security sent us that we have under quarantine because of his anti-government security leanings, but we do not know of any crimes or present intents.”