Drone Games (14 page)

“Yes.”

“And the aircraft selection?”

“As you ordered,” Akil replied. “Delta. MD-90 series. Two fuselage-mounted engines. A morning flight to Atlanta. Changed how?”

“Suffice it to say that you will not have to maneuver underneath or even near the flaps.” Al-Aran started the ignition and turned on the heater. “You will fly the drone to the front of the aircraft and attach it to the vertical shock strut of the nose landing gear. It will be swallowed inside like poison.”

“You mean the main landing gear?”

“The nose,” Al-Aran calmly repeated, seeing the confusion on Akil’s face.

“But there’s no fuel in the nose,” Akil protested. “We should attack the center tank. If we destroy the front wheels, an aircraft can still land safely.”

“There are many vulnerabilities on an aircraft,” Al-Aran said. “The older designs use steel cables and hydraulics to control everything. Aircraft with fly-by-wire systems transmit commands from the cockpit via electric wires to actuators on the control surfaces themselves. You must trust my plan. Tell me about the explosive.”

“I made twenty-four hundred grams,” Akil answered. “Enough to cut each aircraft in half.”

“That’s exactly what I don’t want,” Al-Aran said firmly. “The first plane’s failure must raise doubts about the cause. We need uncertainty. We need the infidels thinking and discussing. I want you to use a measured amount of explosive so that the entire cockpit is not destroyed. How large is each charge?”

“Approximately 150 grams.”

Al-Aran paused to calculate. He knew that just 250 grams of highenergy PETN and Semtex-H destroyed Pan Am 103, a 747 flying over Lockerbie, Scotland, in December 1988. The detonation velocity was nearly five miles per second. That charge was placed in the forward cargo hold and detonated at 32,000 feet. It literally severed the cockpit from the rest of the plane. The pilots were found still strapped in their seats. Potassium chlorate, however, was one-fourth as powerful.

“Use two charges,” Al-Aran ordered.

Both men froze as another vehicle pulled alongside. The Wisconsin State Patrol deputy gave them an unconcerned glance and continued to the restaurant.

“Three hundred grams,” Akil confirmed.

“Everything you need is in that case. Controller, Web access to a training video, and five drones. One drone is expendable. There are two types of plastic cartridges: fuel and catalyst. How long before the Delta explosion?”

“It’ll happen quick,” Akil predicted. “If my timing is right, fifty to sixty seconds after takeoff. I’ll set a longer delay for United’s. How many grams for that?”

“Six hundred,” Al-Aran replied. “A delayed detonation is good. Let it get up to cruising altitude.”

“If the harness fails or falls off, I’ll have to carry the explosive between the drone’s legs. The potassium can’t tolerate friction or pressure above fifty-one pounds per square inch. I need to know the precise grip strength of the legs and also the maximum radio communication distance.”

Al-Aran mused softly to himself. He scribbled something on a piece of paper. “This man was a lead member of the original project team. When you contact him, speak directly on my behalf. Make up whatever you like. He plays an instrument—a guitar—and enjoys music. Have you arranged a field test?”

“There’s a small rock quarry ten minutes away,” Akil answered. “A farmer owns the property and never goes there. If the drone has to grasp and hold onto a vertical landing gear strut, then I have a perfect test target. If we park on the quarry’s access road, no one else can enter.”

“We will not park anywhere,” Al-Aran said. “You will test the drone alone. The risk is great whenever two or more of Allah’s people appear together. I will eat a meal and be on my way. Atlanta is a long ride.”

Akil examined the note. “Why two names?”

“Jdey is a soldier of Allah. I have already contacted him. He knows nothing about this operation except that he is to serve you. Use him at any time and in any manner you choose. He is loyal and completely fearless. I have arranged for him to meet you. He is also a small arms expert. He claims to have valuable information about a federal firearms dealer who has a large weapons cache not far from here.”

Akil’s jaw muscles flexed and his eyes gave off an evil twinkle. “That could be useful when the time is right.”

“We will not speak in person again—only Gmail.”

He paused. “Four days. Allah will bless the tactics.”

AKIL DROVE his Camry west on Highway 50 to County Highway J and then turned south on Quarry Road for another mile. The site was nothing more than an abandoned dump surrounded by gravel mounds and littered with shredded tires and rusted appliances. Broken glass was everywhere. He parked in the middle of the access road and dialed his cell phone.

“Hello?” a young male voice answered.

“I am attempting to reach a Mr. Kevin Jones, please?” Akil said in an exaggerated Middle-Eastern accent.

“Speaking.”

“My name is Omar Yassin. I am calling from Al Hufuf, Saudi Arabia. Are you hearing me okay?”

Jones was in his San Diego apartment, perched on a stool in a spare room that he’d converted into a makeshift recording studio. He reached over a microphone stand and paused a portable audio recorder. “Yeah, I can hear you fine.”

“Excellent,” Akil replied. “I am engaged in a project with Dr. Faiz Al-Aran. He gave me your name as a knowledgeable contact for the device called the Entomopter drone. I apologize for the interruption, but I have a few technical questions.”

“Not a problem. I was just jam . . . er, playing some tunes. No big deal.” Jones slid off his guitar strap and shifted the phone. “How can I help?”

“Well, at this time we have three issues. I determined that you might save us time and effort if you’ve already encountered them. The first is environment. Can you give me any insight regarding the machine’s tolerance with airborne particles or debris?

“If you’re talking about a desert environment,” Kevin said, “sand is no problem at all. We logged sixteen hours in a wind tunnel at category three hurricane strength and added silica to the airflow. The wings held up fine.”

“Good! Second, with respect to the legs, do you recall the precise amount of grip pressure exerted when picking up an object? We certainly could calculate it ourselves, but I thought you might save us the trouble.”

“I can’t recall the exact number, but it was no more than forty-four pounds per square inch. The compression springs are completely removable and should retain stable tension for eight months.”

“That’s exactly what I needed to hear,” Akil said.

“What’s the third issue?”

“Oh, yes . . . maximum distance to receive radio signals from the wireless controller?”

“Line-of-sight signal will degrade at around a thousand meters.”

“Perfect,” Akil said, almost gleefully. “I am jealous. Dr. Al-Aran tells me you have exceptional musical ability. When I was young, my father would take me exploring in the desert. I would sing by the fire. My voice was so bad that the Fennec foxes would howl. I often wonder what it would be like to be an American rock-and-roll star who plays at various . . . how does one say it? Gigs? Sometime you must give me a lesson.”

“Anytime, Omar. I’m not famous yet, but if you’re ever in southern California, look me up. I just got out here. Singing in the desert with Fennec foxes sounds pretty cool to me. You take care, okay?”

“Thank you, Mr. Jones. You as well. Nice talking to you.”

Akil clicked off.

He exited the Camry and walked another fifty yards. The air carried a sour stink from surrounding cabbage farms. He retrieved an old kitchen table and propped it next to a prairie-like field to the south. He scanned the far perimeter with binoculars and gradually focused on an abandoned car three hundred yards away.

He opened the case and removed a drone frame from its foam cradle. It was the first time he’d ever physically touched one. He noted the unevenness in the seam glue. It was lighter than he expected.

Akil inserted a front and rear set of wings into the body slots and then flattened a single piece of paper onto the table with numbered instructions. Next, he reached for his laptop and removed the battery. Inside and to the left of that compartment was a small hollow space framed by two memory chips. He tilted the laptop sideways until four fully assembled switches dropped out. Akil examined the soldering while the laptop rebooted. He inserted the program control disc and connected the USB cable to the controller. He read the next instruction and chuckled at the terminology.
Verify tension on surface locomotors
. He pinched the drone’s legs together and then pulled them apart. Satisfied, he opened a Radio Shack bag and spilled out a handful of 555 timer-integrated circuit chips. He opened his wallet and unfolded a hand-drawn schematic, written in pencil and labeled
computer memory board layout
. Of all the times that airport security screeners had removed the laptop battery, they had never questioned the excess chips.

The 555 timer was simple yet elegant. It had one backup relay to guard against premature ignition. When fully assembled, the device consisted of ten watch batteries taped and wired in series, two switches, one capacitor, one resistor, one relay, and a three-inch long circuit board. A pocketed nylon harness held the potassium charge. The contraption resembled a pony express mail delivery system, complete with one small saddlebag draped over a giant dragonfly instead of a horse.

Where is the fuel?
he wondered. After a few moments, he spotted a separate compartment inside the case and pulled the Velcro flap. He plucked out two plastic cartridges and laid them on the table.

Next, Akil gently lifted one potassium cube from a static-free container in his jacket. He tore off a strip of clear duct tape and wrapped one fuse packet to the cube, leaving two exposed strands of wire dangling from the tiny circuit board. He scrolled a clock timer on the laptop’s screen until it reached 00:06:00—six minutes.

He carefully inserted the two wires into the clay-like potassium and packed the entry holes tight. He snapped the fuel and catalyst cartridges into place. The wings immediately responded, and he heard an audible tone indicating the unit was communicating properly with the laptop.

He tossed the drone skyward, where it hovered motionlessly above his head. He clicked the screen’s timer button one last time. The seconds began counting down. He clicked the
go
button.

The drone flew off across the open field. It quickly became too small to track visually, so Akil glanced down at his screen, following it through the camera and watching the car looming larger. In less than a minute, the drone had reached its target and gone into a stationary hover, awaiting further commands.

Akil manually maneuvered the drone over the vehicle’s hood. Unlike practicing online, operating the physical device itself was difficult. Between the camera’s limited field of view and the drone’s quick response to commands, Akil found himself overcorrecting, but he reasoned that his skills would increase with practice. Allah would see to it.

Akil looked at his watch and then gently eased the drone through the open windshield, hovering it above the dashboard. He touched the controller again, and the drone’s legs clamped firmly around the steering wheel shaft. The shaft’s circumference was thinner than that of a commercial aircraft’s landing gear strut, but for this test, the placement motion would be the same. The drone predictably rotated sideways, clinging upside-down. Three wings snapped out of their socket joints. The harness with the potassium explosive held firmly.

Akil lifted the binoculars.

A split second later there was a powerful but muffled explosion.

The violent blast blew the car doors off their hinges and tore gaping holes in the trunk and roof. The steering wheel sailed high into the air like some jet-powered Frisbee.

The fourth drone wing fluttered harmlessly to the ground.

Milwaukee, WI

WITI FOX 6 News general manager Bud Gillespie sat at his desk, grim faced. His station had placed last in southeastern Wisconsin’s April rating sweeps conducted by Nielsen Media Research. That made eight periods in a row.