Authors: Cliff Ryder
sive, it’s still in the desert, far enough away from the city proper that there wouldn’t be that many casualties, and they could most likely evacuate the closest neighborhoods without too much difficulty. If he was crazy enough to actually come here to see that rocket off, my guess is he’s not going to immolate himself in the blast. No, he wants to set that sucker off above D.C. or New York City, or both if he can manage it.”
Denny nodded. “I agree, which means he’s probably got an escape route planned. I better put one of our boys on finding that—oops, gotta go, my federal judge is calling on line two. I’ll let you know how it goes.” He turned to another screen, but not before Kate heard him greet the man on the other end of the line, affecting a slight Texas twang as he did. “Marty, how the hell are ya? Sorry to bother you this early in the morning, but we got a bit of a situation in your neck of the woods—”
Whether it’s tax cuts to Democrats or welfare programs to Republicans, Denny can sell damn near anything to anyone. Kate smiled as she touched the screen linking her to B2S, secure in the knowledge that the federal search warrant was as good as signed.
“How’s it going?” she asked. The words transcribed into text on her screen.
“Better if my boss wasn’t breathing down my neck.”
The reply brought Kate up short—B2S usually wasn’t that curt.
“Give me a sitrep.”
“That 128-bit encryption was taking too long to hack, so I thought I’d do a back door—find out who programmed the system, and break their sysop code for instant access.”
“And?” Kate asked.
“I haven’t found anything yet. Whoever did this was Aim and Fire
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good enough to find and eliminate the normal programmer back doors. Their own are very, very well hidden. I’m still working on the front door, and have been searching for the back way in—there’s gotta be one, but it’s a riddle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an enigma.”
Kate felt the first pang of doubt spike her stomach with a needle-sharp sting. “Are you telling me you can’t break it?”
“I can, but I can’t give you a good estimate of how long it will take. Might be five minutes, might be thirty—”
“That’s about twenty-five more than we have. Keep at it, and you let me know the instant you’re in,” Kate said.
“Okay. Want the rocket dxed once I’m there?”
Even though she was concerned about the lack of progress, Kate couldn’t help smiling at B2S’s logical leap.
“Negative. Establish operational control, but do not get caught, and if it launches, let it proceed as planned.”
“Got ya. I’ll let you know when I’m in.”
“Right.” Kate let the young woman work and rubbed her temples for a moment. It wasn’t that B2S wouldn’t gain access—there wasn’t a system made yet that she couldn’t break, but it was how long she might take to do it that could be the problem. Kate touched the screen again, and the night sky appeared in the window, along with an airspeed reading, longitude and latitude and digital compass pointing southwest. Kate split the screen and brought up a topographical map of the route that her midnight team, currently in a modified Lockheed C-130J
Super Hercules, was traveling. At the moment, the GPS
locator put them on the border between Oklahoma and Arkansas.
She opened a channel. “Midnight Rider One, this is Primary.”
There was a brief pop of static, then the pilot replied.
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“Copy that, Primary. This is MR-1, go ahead.” Even with the sound baffles in the headset, Kate heard the roar of the four massive jet engines propelling the huge aircraft forward.
“Estimated time of arrival at drop point, MR-1?”
“ETA to drop point approximately ninety-four minutes, over.”
“Copy that. Secondary cargo is on board and ready?”
There was a brief pause, then the pilot answered. “Affirmative, secondary cargo is on board.” He paused again.
“Are you issuing a target-elimination order, over?”
“Negative, MR-1. I say again, negative. I’m just checking over all of my options. Continue on your flight plan and await further instructions. Primary out.”
“Roger that. MR-1 out.”
Kate rubbed her hands together. The secondary cargo was a pair of GBU-32 smart bombs, each carrying a two-thousand-pound warhead. Guided by GPS coordinates and satellite tracking, one of those would be enough to flatten the main building of the Spaceworks compound, or destroy the rocket, although she would not call for a strike on the missile unless absolutely necessary, due to the high possibility of a nuclear-materials leak.
She turned her attention back to the cluster of vehicles and men that had gathered around her two floaters. They seemed to be planning their next steps. As if on cue, Kate’s screen flashed, telling her that Tracy was calling.
“Agent Cassell.”
“Stephanie, this is Tracy. We’re at Spaceworks. We were attacked by their security forces, forcing us to defend ourselves. Our backup has arrived, and we’re currently organizing the assault on the compound to arrest all suspects on the premises.”
“Very well. Is there anything I can do on this end?”
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“Yes, mobilize any other law-enforcement officers or agents that have not been informed of the situation. Also, get me plans of the site and each building here.”
“More reinforcements are on the way.” Kate had already sent out a radio call for all available law-enforcement personnel in the area to report to the site. “Believe me, soon you’ll have more people there than you’ll know what to do with. Remember, you’re the agent in charge at the scene, and don’t let anyone bulldoze you. Also, check your phone once we’re off this call. The plans will be there, and you’ll be able to download them wirelessly to any computer you wish.”
“Believe me, that isn’t going to happen here. I’ll report in once we’ve secured the area.”
“Good luck and good hunting.” Kate signed off and sat down, her eyes glued to the Spaceworks site, the ever-increasing number of police, Customs and Border Protection and FBI vehicles arriving, and the rocket with its deadly payload, still sitting quietly on the tarmac, waiting to be launched.
Sepehr was livid as he watched the infidels kill his security team, but he kept his voice and fists under control. “Not as weak as I had first thought,” he said under his breath.
Beside him, Joseph paced back and forth. “What are we going to do? This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen!”
“Patience, my friend. The Americans will want a peaceful resolution. They will try to negotiate first, to resolve this without violence. They may even think this is a mis-understanding that can be resolved by talking with us.
However, any attempt will be met with weapons. You’ve told me the defenses you have out there.”
“Sepehr, do you see what I see out there?” Joseph pointed at the screens, which showed a large and ever-growing contingent of federal and local law-enforcement officers setting up a mobile headquarters. They heard the beat of rotor blades as a helicopter passed overhead.
“They’re not going to wait this out like Waco or Ruby Ridge. They’re coming in here, and they will kill all of us!”
“Then we will die in the service of Allah, if he has Aim and Fire
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willed it, and when we open our eyes next, we will be in Paradise.” Sepehr’s eyes narrowed. “I am sure that every man here is willing to give his life for our cause. Are you telling me that you have doubts about our mission?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that I didn’t think we would be discovered before we’d had the chance to launch. Now they may stop the whole thing,” Joseph said.
“No, that will not happen.” Sepehr turned to the guard manning the console. “Deploy the sniper teams on the roof, with orders to destroy anything that approaches the outer perimeter. It doesn’t matter who they are, local police, FBI, Border Patrol—anyone is a target now. The guards at the front gate are also authorized to use whatever means necessary to repel the infidels.”
He turned to Joseph. “Get me an update of the repairs to the rocket. We must launch as soon as possible.” He grabbed the other man’s arm, halting his aimless pacing.
“Do not lose heart now. We are so close to achieving everything we have worked for, what you have labored your entire life to create. I need you to believe for only a few more minutes, then we are done.”
Joseph stared into Sepehr’s burning brown eyes, then, as if gathering strength from his will, nodded. “My belief in the jihad is infinite, brother. We will show the infidels the glory of Islamic might this day.”
“Good.” Sepehr leaned close and spoke his next words into Joseph’s ear. “Make sure the tunnel is prepared, in the event we will need to leave quickly.”
“Everything is ready. We just need that damn rocket to be ready, and we will strike a blow against America that they will never forget,” Joseph said.
“Inshallah,”
Sepehr replied. “As Allah wills, so shall it be.”
Tracy snapped her phone closed and walked over, with Nate in tow, to a group of SWAT team members who had just exited their van. Behind them, a smaller armored truck pulled up. “Who’s in charge of your unit?” Tracy asked.
A Latino man a few years younger than Nate stepped forward, dressed in the usual SWAT uniform of black fatigues with a bulletproof tactical vest, elbow and knee pads, a submachine gun slung over his shoulder, a pistol at his side and a Kevlar helmet on his head. “Sergeant Jose Elidondo. And you are?” His tone wasn’t confronta-tional, merely neutral.
Tracy held out her identification. “Special Agent Tracy Wentworth, Department of Homeland Security, and rank-ing agent in charge of this operation.”
Although Tracy saw a few eye-rolls from the other team members, Elidondo absorbed this information without a pause. “What’s the situation?”
“There are anywhere from a half-dozen to thirty armed and barricaded terrorists in this compound that need to be Aim and Fire
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neutralized. There is also the strong possibility of hazar-dous materials on site.”
“Chemical?” the sergeant asked.
“Radioactive,” Tracy replied.
That got a reaction out of the previously unflappable SWAT leader. His eyebrows rose. “Confirmed?”
Tracy barely hesitated, then nodded at the wreckage of their truck. “That’s their security team’s handiwork.
They fired on us without provocation—it’s why you’re out here now.”
The sergeant glanced over the smoldering remains.
“Okay, call the ball.”
“Sergeant, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but I need the people inside that fence captured or eliminated as soon as possible. However you choose to accomplish that is fine with me. There is one stipulation, however.” She gave him a photo. “If this man is seen on the premises, take all care to capture him alive.”
Tracy heard surprised muttering from the rest of the team. One tall man said, “Someone from DHS is actually gonna let us do our jobs? What alternate universe is this?”
They were quieted by a look from their superior before he turned back to Tracy. “You’re sure this is the way you want to go? You don’t want to try and negotiate?”
“We cannot afford to give them any more time. Even now, they may very well be on the way to putting their plan into action.” She pointed to the nose of the rocket, jutting up above the hill.
“Holy shit.” Elidondo’s eyes widened. “Take out everyone inside except your guy—got it. What about the rocket?”
“We’ve already got people working on that,” Tracy said.
“Okay, what can you tell us about the site?”
“I have detailed files. You boys got a laptop or patrol 276
computer? What I can’t tell you is the level of weapons or any after-construction security details that may have been added.”
“Right this way, Agent Wentworth.” Briggs, the tall man who had scoffed at her, opened the back door of the van and pointed to a console built into the wall behind the passenger seat. He gave her a USB cable to hook into.
Tracy used the touch screen on her phone to send the files to the SWAT computer, then got out of the way as they all clustered around the screen. Elidondo printed copies, distributed them and outlined the insertion with swift strokes, creating a three-pronged assault in a few minutes. He led his squad out and joined a half-dozen more men. All of them gathered around as the plan was reviewed and copies of the building’s schematics were distributed. Four got into a small armored truck and drove back out into the desert. The helicopter that had been circling overhead was directed to land on the other side of the road. Three snipers, each carrying a Remington M700 rifle with telescopic sights, headed out to the rise with their spotters, giving the smoking remains of Nate’s truck a wide berth.
“You know some of these boys ain’t gonna come back.”
Nate stood beside her, his arms folded, as they watched the teams prep for the assault.
“I’m trying not to dwell on that at the moment. If necessary, I’m prepared to sacrifice all of them to get the job done. They knew the risks when they signed up. If they pull this off, they’ll have saved hundreds of thousands of lives.”
Tracy’s words were strong, but they belied the hollow feeling inside at sending those men off to perhaps die in the next few minutes. “What I need is a way to watch what’s happening.”
“Ma’am, you can follow our teams on the internal monitors here.” Briggs must have overheard her remark.
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“Deal, but only if you never call me that again. ‘Tracy’
will be fine.”
“Yes, ma— Agent Wentworth.”
With a shrug, Tracy climbed into the back of the SWAT
van, which was equipped with more than the standard bench seats and storage lockers. Next to the lockers were three small monitors, each corresponding to one of the teams that were about to make their move.
“I can’t recall the last time we had to use all three of these,” the tall officer said as he adjusted one of them for a cleared picture. “Team Alpha, you are online. Team Bravo, you are online. Team Charlie, you are online. All copy.”