Broken Soldier (Book One) (27 page)

Four robots that were riding in the back of the
storage area would quickly handle the lifting of the vets into the
shuttle. They had been altered to handle humans with care, thanks
to the padded arms and some reprogramming that Bambi had added. Her
over watch would be better than any one person could provide, by
using the micro-drones she controlled.

At face value, the concept sounded
gruesome…kidnapping old veterans and recruiting them for war in
outer space. But, when one considered that these men would be
refurbished and given new life as whole humans, it seemed to be a
fair deal. Of course, they could refuse the opportunity, if they
didn’t want to join and they’d still have their new bodies, a new
ID, and money in the bank.

An invigorated Alphonso Benson walked into the
pavilion wearing the uniform of a Master Sergeant. He looked to be
in his mid twenties, which was awfully young for the rank. If
anyone asked about that, he would tell them he was older than he
looked.

On his shoulders was an improved weapon, which could
analyze a targeted human and adjust the potency of the shot, before
firing a stun shot. Mike felt this would avoid hitting a weakened
old vet with a shot that could possibly kill him. With any luck, Al
would never have to use the thing.

The idea was to get in quick and get the operation
going. Bambi waited for Al to give her the signal. He walked
around, shaking hands and chatting briefly with family members. He
was getting caught up in the tales of the old soldiers. He felt at
home with them and hadn’t had that feeling in a long time.

Bambi broke his happy moment.
Al, come on, will
you? We’ve got to do this thing. Can I pop the gas or not?

Sorry, Bambi. I guess I got carried away. Go ahead
and hit ‘em.

Several small drones had been snuck into the large
room, as part of the flower arrangements and other accoutrements of
the affair. At Bambi’s command, they began pumping an invisible
stun gas that would put down everyone in the pavilion, except Al.
He had been given an antidote that kept him from being
affected.

As he watched, people begin to drop and he was
concerned. Some of these people were family members who had come to
celebrate with their aging vet relative. Mike had anticipated their
presence, but not in such large numbers. The plan had been to place
them outside, but with this many people that would leave an awful
lot of unaffected attendees, with no memory of what happened.

However, that was not his only concern. He was
worried about the length of time it would take for the robots to
get all of these guys into the shuttle. It was hovering out near
the tree line and once the gas had been released, Bambi quickly
brought the shuttle near a side entrance. Also, there was only so
much room in the shuttle. They had been counting on one hundred
men, not an additional eighty or so family members, who weren’t
even supposed to be there.

Mike broke into Al’s thoughts.
I see the problem,
Al. Max and I won’t meet with the President, until tomorrow; so
we’re on the way to help you out. Just focus on loading the vets
first. We’ll see about the family members, after their loved ones
are on board. These things happen, so don’t sweat it. You haven’t
done anything wrong.

It didn’t take long for Mike to arrive. He had Max
help Al load people into the shuttle, as he went inside to begin
pulling out those people who would be left outside of the fire and
unhurt.

Max commed,
Mike, we can get a hell of a lot more
people in here, by stacking them like cord wood. Bambi can reduce
the gravity, so they won’t be crushed and if there’s any harm done,
we’ll fix them later.

Good thinking Max. Bambi, how are we doing on time
and what about the first responders?

We’re actually ahead of schedule, but that will
change as we continue to load more people than we had prepared for.
I personally took the 911 call and told the guy that fire and
rescue were on the way. I inserted a glitch in the system, which
will explain why the order was never sent to the fire department.
When it’s safe, I’ll send the alarm and the appropriate responders
will find a fire that is well under way and beyond their ability to
knock down. Tragic!

When the large shuttle took off, it held 97 vets and
34 elderly family members. Mike felt they might be able to recruit
a few of them, too. If they weren’t interested, they could be
returned on the next trip to Earth. At least they would be
rejuvenated and in far better condition than they were when they
were taken. It wasn’t a pretty op, but it had accomplished the
primary task.

As Mike and Max lifted off, the old General said,
“By God that felt good. I haven’t been on one of these ops since I
was a Captain in Venezuela, and no casualties either. You should be
proud, young man. Your people have done well.”

“I am proud, Max. But we still have three more ops
to go. Let’s not celebrate too early.”

They rode in silence for a while, and then Mike
asked, “What were you doing in Venezuela?”

“Need to know, son. Sorry.”

Mike knew he could have Bambi check it out, but he
didn’t want to disturb Max’s sense of integrity. How a leader was
perceived by his men was very important to the mission…every
mission. Probing a person’s past could drag up unwanted items that
could affect that person’s ability to perform. Mike had a few
things he didn’t want Bambi to reveal and he imagined everyone else
did too.

Mike focused his thoughts on Wayne. His mission
would take place tomorrow afternoon and the action part of Mary’s
would be the following morning, although she would still have to
attend the meeting at Stanford this evening, in order to hand out
the private invitations to her breakfast meeting the next
morning.

Just about the same time the shuttle put on a show
for the old fighter pilots, he and Max would be entering the Camp
David complex in Maryland.

It was located near the Pennsylvania border, in
Catoctin Mountain Park, about 60 miles northwest of Washington D.C.
They would set down on the outskirts of the park, where Bambi had
arranged for a standard government sedan to be available for their
use. It just made sense to drive up to the camp entrance in a dark
vehicle with government plates.

They knew there would be several checkpoints, where
their faces would be put through a facial recognition program, as
well as their finger and palm prints and a retinal scan. The
results of those would be checked against an existing file of DIA
representatives who were authorized to see the President. Bambi had
all of those bases covered. In a variety of databases, she had set
them up with IDs that presented the agents with unprecedented
access to nearly any government complex. Technically speaking,
their security clearance exceeded the President’s.

Bambi had a tiny drone fly over the field where Mike
would be entertaining the aging fighter pilots. They would be shown
the shuttle flying around, doing impossible maneuvers, such as
flying backward and hovering. Then, for the coup de gras, it would
disappear before their eyes. It would reappear in the empty hanger,
where they would be allowed to get a closer look. That’s when Bambi
would hit them with the gas.

In stealth mode, the shuttle dropped Wayne off a few
hundred feet away from the hangar, in a parking lot. He walked in
from the front door and out into the hanger proudly wearing the
Eagles of a full Colonel in the Air Force.

“Gentlemen, I wish to thank you for attending this
brief little affair. We’re going to show you a new aircraft. It
will be the replacement for all space craft going to near orbit and
as far out as the moon. There is a smaller counter part that will
become the new generation fighter, which is several times more
capable than anything on the planet today.” At least that much was
true.

One old guy sounded off, “Hey, it’s hot and I don’t
want to be out too long. So where is this damn thing?”

Wayne smiled and pointed out of the hanger. “Why
sir, it’s right there.”

They all looked out, but saw nothing. “Well, where
the hell is it?”

“There Gentlemen.”

Bambi brought it out of stealth mode and the men got
their first good look at the shuttle, as it silently hovered over
the tarmac.

“Holy shit! It’s about time we perfected that camo
ability. We’ve been hearing about it for years. It’s a nice trick,
but couldn’t you have made the thing a bit more attractive?”

Another man said, “Yeah, it’s ugly as hell. It looks
like a flying brick.”

Wayne was getting his own first real look at the
outside of the thing in broad daylight and he had to agree, it was
ugly. It was about fifty feet long with no wings and no visible way
to control pitch, yaw or roll. Of course, while it could fly in
atmosphere, it was primarily a space going craft.

He knew of the addition of two forward mounted
weapons, but they were nearly undetectable, if one didn’t know what
to look for. The complaints just kept coming.

Bambi commed,
Screw ‘em. Let’s skip the show and
just gas ‘em now.

No. Give them their show. They’ll remember it, when
we wake them up and the memory will have a positive effect on their
decision to join us.

The shuttle began to move straight up. That wasn’t
new, but when it rolled over and over as it did so, interest began
to build quickly. Bambi put it through an impossible series of
maneuvers, before she had it disappear, as it raced right at them
with incredible speed. There were several gasps, when it went
completely invisible.

When it reappeared, it was hovering inside the back
of the hanger.

“So how fast can this brick fly?”

Wayne grinned, “Oh about five times the speed of
sound in atmosphere and twenty eight times the speed of sound in
outer space.”

Hey, it’s a hell of a lot faster than that and you
know it.

Yes I do. But these men would have trouble believing
that. So I threw them a few numbers that are amazing, yet not
unbelievable.

Pretty smart kid.

Kid?

Yeah. Your Mike’s kid ain’t ya?

You’re becoming too human, Bambi.

The gas didn’t work as well as he had hoped. The
wind was up and it blew in circular flurries, inside the hanger.
Some of the gas blew away too quickly, leaving a few old pilots
semiconscious. With reluctance he stunned them and the robots
loaded the men aboard. The few airmen who had been assigned to keep
an eye on them where also gassed and stunned. They were left
behind.

It was awkward, but for the most part, mission
accomplished.

Mike sent his son a comm.
Well done, Colonel. I’m
proud of you. You showed those gentlemen respect and tolerated
their insults, without losing your cool. Let’s hope the next two
missions go off as well.

Thanks daddy.

You can stop that shit right now. The next time you
call me daddy, I’ll bust you down to private and have you cleaning
toilets.

Ah, there’s the dad I’ve grown to know and love.

As the old pilots were being loaded up, Mike and Max
were just driving up to the main entrance of Camp David. They
showed their IDs and were told to get out of the car. A Marine held
a mirror beneath the vehicle, checking for a bomb or anything that
looked out of the ordinary. Two dogs were brought forward and they
sniffed around the outside, and then inside the vehicle.

While that was done, Mike and Max had to walk
through a metal detector, after emptying their pockets. When they
were asked about not carrying a firearm Mike told the guard, “Why
bother? You gentlemen would just take it and hold it for us, until
we left. It just makes the entire process easier; don’t you
think?”

The next checkpoint was at a crossroad, a few
hundred meters away, they were asked why they were here and whom
they intended to see.

Mike was driving so he answered. “We have been sent
to see the man who is currently residing in the Aspen Lodge.” That
was the Presidents home, when he was on site. He and his family
were the only people who stayed at this lodge. There were other
lodges for guests, but it was rare for someone else to remain over
night in the same house as the leader of the free world. It made
the Secret Service quite nervous.

They turned right and headed for the next crossroad.
Before they got there, Ten Marines and a Lieutenant Colonel blocked
their path. The car was surrounded and the Marines had their rifles
pointed at them. They were ordered out of their car.

The Colonel yelled at them, “Who the hell are you,
and don’t tell me you’re with the DIA, because I know that’s
bullshit. I talked with your boss and he never heard of you and he
damn sure didn’t send you.”

Quickly, Mike commed Bambi.
I find it hard to
believe a Lieutenant Colonel has the head of the DIA on his speed
dial. What’s the deal?

I’m looking. Here we go. He has does have a friend
who is on the intelligence staff of the DIA and he called him about
fifteen minutes ago, complaining that he should have been notified
of this meeting. He pointed out that it was his responsibility to
protect the President, when he was at Camp David.

The guy he talked to was a Navy Commander, named
Thornton Thompson. People call him TT, behind his back, because
he’s a real little pisser. It seems to me that both men are very
turf protective. I suspect that neither man will advance beyond his
current posting and he knows it.

This Lieutenant Colonel’s name is Fred Lumpkin. I
wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have some long lingering
resentment at being teased as a kid, about his last name.

Thanks, Bambi. I know how to handle this guy

Mike gave the man a small innocent grin and said,
“Colonel, I’m sorry you weren’t brought into the loop regarding our
visit. It was a very serious oversight on the part of the
director’s staff and I intend to have it looked into (He had just
made the man aware that his buddy at DIA could be in the shit,
because of this outburst.).