DEAD BEEF (Our Cyber World Book 1) (27 page)

BOOK: DEAD BEEF (Our Cyber World Book 1)
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“Before we get into details, Mr. Spencer, since we haven’t gotten anything that specific on our end, would you mind telling us how you came across that information?”

“Mr. President, we would like to table that question until we share our request to be given safe passage so that we can take point on stopping this attack. After we have that discussion, you may see the merits of keeping our source a secret until after the operation concludes. You have my word that we will fully debrief at that point.”

“And I promise I will show up in something more... elegant for that debriefing.”

“No disrespect, Mr. President,” Martin said, “but even right now, looking at your room there, we have too many eyes and ears on this very sensitive op. The last thing we need is to go to lunch, pull out our smart phones and read this information on some hack’s blog. I strongly recommend we neck down to essential personnel.”

“Agreed,” the president said. By the time he was done dismissing people, only the president, Robert Odehl, the CIA deputy director, the head of the NSA, the deputy director of the FBI, the secretary of Homeland Security and the chair of the Joint Chiefs of staff remained.

“Thank, you, Mr. President,” Martin said. “Now I want to talk about a word we’ve been discussing among us in the last few days. Trust. Even within our team, we’ve struggled and grappled with this word. We’ve decided in the end to put aside our own agendas and biases because trusting in one another is the only way we’re going to make it.”

“I also place a high value on that word in my administration,” the president said.

“I know you do, Mr. President. Which is why I hope with everything I have that you will now trust me and my team.”

“I do, Mr. Spencer.”

“I mean trust us to let us operate even when we do things that on the surface look wrong, or frightening. Trust that we are going to do things that may look bad for a short time to prevent even more horrible things that would occur if we fail to act.”

“Can you be more specific, Mr. Spencer?”

“Here’s where I want to protect you, Mr. President. I’m sure you’re aware of the principle of plausible deniability?”

“Yes.”

“The less you know, the less you can be blamed should someone not agree with our methods.”

“Should I step out of the room?”

“Your call, Mr. President, but before you do we just need one thing from you.”

“I’m listening,” the president said.

“We need to know that we have your full support, and that your folks will not interfere in our operation unless we request external support, or if it becomes incontrovertibly clear that either through loss of life or injury we cannot complete our mission.”

The president considered Spencer’s request for a full minute. “Please repeat that statement, Mr. Spencer.”

Spencer did, word for word. The president stood up and said, “You have my full support and assurance, Mr. Spencer. God speed.”

With that, the President of the United States stepped out of the Situation Room. An hour later, he would sign an education bill, and during a lunch engagement he would make remarks about nuclear disarmament.

For the next fifteen minutes, the time when the video feed was designed to expire, Martin Spencer listed possible courses of action or COAs his team would take based on what situation variables they found on the ground. As he had promised, many of the possible COAs would frighten and heavily affect unsuspecting civilians.

After, Spencer explained how the effects of these COAs would be for the most part benign and fully reversible, and after outlining why these effects were essential, the officials remaining in the Situation Room somewhat reluctantly agreed that the going in plan was both acceptable and executable. Everyone understood and accepted, of course, that a 100% assurance of success and mission effectiveness could not be guaranteed. 

 

Chapter 37

“Wow, Martin,” Sasha was saying as she shuffled slowly around the cabin. “I must say you just exemplified the art of persuasion. I totally thought they’d laugh us off the screen.”

At the computers, Stan Beloski was replaying the video of the teleconference for Ochoa and Ortiz in dual screen mode to show both the White House and the cabin. They had heard most of the conversation from the outside, but Martin wanted to make sure they had the full thing, without question, especially the president’s approval.

“So we’re in sync?” Martin asked Ochoa after he finished watching the video the second time.

“That’s what I needed to hear in order for you to trust me,” Ochoa said.

“Me, too, chief,” Leticia said with a smile.

“And you’re clear that we don’t call them unless I say so, or unless I’m dead or incapacitated and the world is crashing around us?” Martin asked.

“Crystal,” Leticia said with a smile.

“Clear,” Ochoa said.

With that out of the way, Martin convened another meeting.

“Oh, God, can we do something instead of holding all these meetings?” Sasha said. “You know I hate meetings, Martin. Three in one day is well over my full quota for the entire month.”

Martin laughed, and the others followed suit. Cynthia watched Martin laugh, and she thought it was good for him to let up a bit. He’d been very wound up, and didn’t look like he had slept much the night before, probably calculating all the moves he’d just played, and a few more to come.

“First order of business is how we get out of here without raising a ruckus.” He paused, looking at Sasha.

“And without reopening my wound,” Sasha added.

“We’ll have to wait a few days, at least,” Ochoa said. “She’s in no condition—”

“Oh, the concern, the angst, the compassion!” Sasha said. “Please spare me. I can go right now.”

“Right now. One day after getting shot,” Ochoa said.

“Yeah, right now, doctor. Because that’s what professionals do. They hurt and they keep on moving.” Sasha smiled at Leticia. “Isn’t that right, Leti?”

“Damn right,” Leticia said.

“Of course,” Sasha said. “I could go right now, but Martin needs some time to plan a few hundred moves, and besides, we’ll make less of a splash if we leave in the dark, say, around midnight. Isn’t that right, Martin?”

“You read my mind.”

“That’s why Martin and I make such a splendid team. I read his mind, he reads mine, and we save a lot of energy with information transfer. May I read your mind a little more, Martin?”

“Cut it out, Sasha, this is serious.”

“OK, boss,” she said, making her way back to the bed. “I was going to talk about how we should split up the team, three on foot and rope, and three by vehicle, three vehicles, to be precise. But you go ahead and let us know that this is indeed your plan, and why.”

Martin seemed to hesitate. “I’m afraid you didn’t quite read my mind.”

“It must be all these other women getting in the way,” Sasha said. “We are losing our Zen.”

“Sasha,” Martin said.

“OK, OK. I’ll get to it,” she said as she sat on the bed. “I am in no shape to walk for an hour downhill, followed by a jarringly bumpy ride all the way down the hill, and then we start driving.”

“I was thinking of me and Ochoa taking turns carrying you down the hill,” Martin said.

“How gallant of you, and it might work, except for the part about doing this in the dark and tripping down a steep grade. There’s a better way, and yes, yes, I’ll get to it to quell your impatience. You, Martin, Leticia and I rappel down the mountain, off the observation point. The other three go down the hill. Beloski drives off first in your Toyota FJ-40, and when he gets to the fork in the road he turns left and drives to GPS coordinates I will give him. That will be the spot, within a few hundred meters where we complete our rappel. Questions?”

“Go on,” Martin said.

“Next goes Cynthia on her motorbike. She drives into town and picks up that sweet truck she bought for you.”

“How do you know about that?” Cynthia said.

“The part about the truck, or what you told its previous owner?”

“Both.”

“It’s either a small world, or you talk in your sleep about Martin. A lot, actually. Pick your preferred option, neither of which matters much for our little discussion, so let’s get back on-topic.”

Sasha pointed at Ochoa. “Last to go is Ochoa. He has the connections, so he heads into town to get more medicine, water and snacks, and packs them in the back of his Land Rover.”

Martin stood up and started pacing. “OK, we’ll go back to this rappelling idea in a minute. But we need to switch things up with the cars. If we do it this way, I want the Land Rover picking you up. It’s larger and more comfortable, in case you need to lie down, and it has a better ride that the FJ. I also want Ochoa there in case you need medical attention.”

“That leaves Beloski going into town for medicine,” Sasha said.

“That can be arranged,” Ochoa said. “I agree with Martin on this one.”

“It’s settled, then,” Martin said. “Now, let’s talk about that rappelling idea.”

“BLUF, bottom line up front,” Sasha said. “I have 2 harnesses, and I believe Leticia brought in her own when she dropped by yesterday. We put them on and drop 3,000 feet in 3 easy installments. Gravity does most of the work.”

“OK,” Martin said. “That’s the exit plan for now, unless we come with something better.”

“Oh, Martin,” Sasha said. “You should know better than anyone that with few pieces left on the board, the number of available moves diminishes greatly. Don’t overthink this one too much. There really isn’t much to think about.”

“It’s not a bad idea, Mr. Spencer,” Leticia said. “During one of my ops at altitude, we had someone that needed medical attention. Instead of walking them down, which would have taken hours, we roped him down. He was down in 20 minutes.”

“How many feet was that?” Martin asked.

“Twenty-five hundred, if memory serves me right.”

“See, Martin?” Sasha said. “We’re in the ballpark. It will work. We’ll be down there roasting marshmallows long before Ochoa shows up in his Rover.”

“Whatever, Sasha,” Martin said, and he walked out of the cabin.

Stan Beloski came over to Sasha and handed her a laptop. “We’re all glad you’re feeling more like yourself. But before you let all of yourself get all bitchy and snippy at Martin, you might want to watch what he did for you and only you.” He pressed a button and also walked out of the cabin. Ochoa followed.

Leti went and knelt by Sasha, and Cynthia looked at them from the other side of the cabin while they watched the video. Sasha’s hand went to her mouth, and in another minute she was crying. By the time the video ended a full thirty minutes later, Leti had an arm around Sasha. Sasha burrowed her head in Leti’s chest, and the two women quietly cried together.

Cynthia walked over, took the laptop, closed the lid and set it at the table with all the other computers.

After that she decided to go out for a walk outside. She hadn’t gone but a few steps when she heard hurried steps behind her.

“Is everything OK?” she said.

“Yeah,” Martin replied. “Mind if I walk with you?”

“Sure. Trying to keep me safe?”

Martin caught up with her and said, “Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“OK, I guess. How about you?”

“I’m glad you came, Cynthia. If you hadn’t—”

“Let’s not dwell on that,” she said.

“I’m trying to say thank you.”

“I suppose I’m trying to say you’re welcome, and it’s not coming out well.”

Martin took her by the arm, gently, but with determination. “Look, I can only imagine how hard this must be for you.”

“Please, Martin, let’s not go there.”

“I’m just trying to let you know I appreciate you being here, that I know you how you must feel.”

“And what do you want me to do with that?”

“I just want you to talk to me.”

“What do you want me to tell you, Martin? That I love you? There, I love you. I love you, and yes, it’s killing me that you are with her, taking care of her, willing to die for her, and I have to watch you do it all like we aren’t still married.”

She could tell Martin wanted to say something, but was struggling to come up with the right words.

Cynthia hesitated for a moment. Lowering her voice she said, “I never took those papers in.”

“I figured that.”

“I had bigger things to worry about.”

“You had to rescue me again,” he said.

“Third time’s the charm?” she said, smiling sadly. “I don’t think so. I had to stand by you. You see, as much as it kills me to see you with her, it would kill me more if something were to happen to you.”

Cynthia saw his shoulders slump and his head drop as if in shame. He stood looking at the ground for a moment, and when he looked up again, his eyes glistened with tears. “I know I’ve hurt you. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Without thinking about it, Cynthia took a step forward, and without knowing quite how it happened, she found herself in his arms. With her head turned to one side she pressed her ear to his chest and heard his heart. It was a big heart, she knew, and a heart that had never been completely hers. She had to make peace with that and make sure that heart kept beating. Till the last beat of her own heart, she had to keep his going for Sasha, for project Ouroboros, for the U.S., and for the world. Cynthia found herself caring for little of that except for Martin and the shadow of hope her heart still held for him.

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