Colonel Roy Marstoni simply stared at the agent. 20 years of briefing Generals on in-fighting of the Pentagon and persuading Congress to spend more bucks on defense had not prepared him for this.
"You say you are reasonably sure that a group of twelve terrorists are coming to my test center intent on blowing it to hell and gone."
"I wouldn't..."
"Don't screw with me Mr. Carlisle I am not in the mood. The US Air Force has spent close to 65 million dollars on this installation, and we have put a few of those tax-payer dollars into our own defenses. I need to check your clearances, and if they are up to snuff, then we'll take a little tour of this joint, then you tell me whether we have anything major to worry about."
"Right Colonel. You'll find I am able to discuss any matters of security at this installation. I am not too concerned about the underground parts of your facility. What I AM concerned about is the effect upon the nation's morale if some terrorist punches a great big hole in the side of this tin box. And I didn't say the terrorists were necessarily targeting you. I just said we have to cover our asses in case they decide to change their tactics. You know damn well that the press will swarm all over highway 101 taking pictures of the damage if someone does shoot this site up and there won't be a damn thing you can do about it.
"Yeah well, that would be a pity all right..."
"You don't seem to be getting the message, Sir. If someone blows away one of those pretty satellite dishes, I'd bet you would spend a pretty penny replacing it."
"Now cost of equipment I can't discuss Mr. Carlisle..."
"Yeah, fine..." interrupted Ray again. "But the point is, some pretty nasty folks could be here fairly soon with an eye at making us look damn silly. After all, an incredibly secret function in a innocuous blue building, parked right next to a major freeway, in the heart of Silicon Valley, with little or no perimeter security to speak of. It's a damn sabotuer's dream!"
The Colonel stared at the agent for awhile, then slowly stood up from his desk, turned, and pondered the pictures of himself and General Abramson back home in L.A. Right about now he wished he'd never had taken this assignment to the cube. Granted the hardware was pretty exciting, and the mission was gratifying. Even the chance to move into General looked good right now. But that would, together with his future in the Air Force, go up in the smoke of an attack on his site.
"Okay, Mr. Carlisle, what do you suggest we do about that perimeter?"
The FBI agent was impressed by the quick decision to cooperate from the Air Force officer. It was tough to find oneself in an unprotected situation especially when so many people depended upon you for leadership. This man was obviously not a fool, not concerned with his authority or power. He could make a decision to be lead by someone who normally would not carry the authority to command. If Oliver North had asked Colonel Marstoni to down the airliner carrying the terrorists out of Italy, this man would have unquestionably done it. Ray respected him for that kind of respect for responsibility and gratifying lack of pomposity so common among high ranking officers.
"Well I don't have all the answers, but I think a military solution can be combined with a civil effort. Here is what I have in mind..."
Jud looked out the wide windows of the Queterm Corporation building, out onto the wide expanse of Central Expressway. Standing next to him was Able Stanton, Chief of Police of Mountain View, whose jurisdiction they were in. The company they were visiting was an extremely low profile supplier of high power laser/fiber optics coupling devices. Neither of the two police chiefs knew a damn thing about lasers and very little about fiber optics.
But dressed in their well groomed politicians suits, they looked very much like high roller, high tech company presidents. Certainly no-one would guess they each carried a 357 magnum revolver, and a small 9mm automatic. Jud also had a small smoke grenade on his person as well. They had arranged with the chief of security at Queterm for a little test. DOD had concurred that Queterm was one of the best protected sites along Central, certainly the best in Mountain View. Jud and Able had their doubts though. Both were determined to prove it.
They had simply walked in and announced they had an appointment with the President, after covertly following him into the parking lot to insure he was in the office today. The lobby receptionist had politely asked them to wait in the comfortable lobby, and while they admired the requisite metal statue out front, she tried to connect to the Company President's office.
Jud now spoke quietly to Able, "Okay Able, I saw only one camera, it's fixed. So when we move, the main office will probably see it. The only way we can pull this off is to take out the camera. Our FIBBIE friend will pay for the camera, but I want a better chance at it than a tough shot. Suppose when the secretary gives us the bad news about our appointment that you start to create a fuss, and I'll..."
"Mister Fitzwater and Mister Samson" queried a definitely feminine voice behind them. They turned and quickly recovered before they stared too long at a stunning brunette who was smiling at them.
"I am Kathleen Arminstand, Mr. Kopek's secretary. I am sorry but did not find any mention of your appointment with him in either his personal calendar or my more complete calendar. But I am sure we can arrange an appointment for later today. When would be a convenient time this afternoon?"
As she was finishing both Jud and Able grimaced in mock anger and Able spoke up as they began to walk past the young women as if she wasn't even there.
"Can you imagine the gall of that Son-of-a- bitch, Ben? Invites us here instead of answering our direct question, then tries to pretend he doesn't know us. The SHIT!"
"I outta pin his ears, alright. Think he has the guts to carry on this farce face-to-face?"
"Doubt it. The spineless wimp is probably sitting there quivering, hoping we'll just go away."
The previously in control secretary was know quite flustered as she overcame her shock and tried to keep pace with the two men. As they moved closer to the glass cage housing the first of the five security people they had to move through, she began her protest,
"Now I am really sorry gentlemen but the Mr. Kopek cannot see you this morning. You'll just have to return..."
"Maybe she's right..." began Jud, almost as if the young women wasn't there.
"No way, Ben. It's just a Win-Lose negotiation ploy. The bozo wants to play hardball, and I am gonna oblige him. Hell, I'm gonna give him the god father choice...let's see how he likes 'I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse'".
"Easy Eric. You'll pop a blood vessel. It's just not worth it."
"Not worth it! We've got 3 mill tied up in this snot's contract, and I'm not gonna get shafted by some screwball tactic. While I'll...". But he never finished his tirade. With a gasp he grasped at his chest, and with wide eyes groaned so loud that everyone in the lobby turned to look.
Helping his companion to the floor, Jud made it look like the Mountain View Chief had fallen flat over. With a wild eyed glare himself, he rushed to the security cage, and yelled, "Man down, needs CPR!". As the shocked security man stared, Jud pointed his hand down the small foyer at his companion laying on the floor.
"Needs CPR, don't know how! Damn it! Help my partner!"
The security guard unfroze finally and reached over to open the cage door, hesitated, looked back down the hallway again, and then made the move Jud had been waiting for. With a quick pull, he yanked the door open so fast, the handle left the guards hand. Shoving the barrel of the 357 into the man's adam's apple, "Back in buddy, or I air condition your throat."
Now the guard was glassy eyed, shock beginning to set in. "Calm down fella. I need you to be relaxed. I am not going to hurt anyone. I am going to let you sniff some very harmless gas, and you'll wake up in twenty minutes very hungry and that's it. No sweat. If you fuck with me, you get lead poisoning. Ka peeche"? As the young guard nodded his head in rapid jerks, Jud brought up the little breath spray bottle and holding his own head back squirted some into the nostrils of the other man. With a jerk the fellow gasped and then as eyes watered, Jud said, "Okay, now just point out the door switch to me, then take a twenty minute nap. That's a good boy".
He helped the guard back into his chair, then watching the man's eyes glass over, he received a chill. He suddenly remembered the time he had put his old collie to sleep. The eyes had glassed over than had grown dull. Reaching over, he checked the man's eyes guiltily, saw they were glassy but moist, and the pupil's dilating in the reading light, he relaxed.
Pushing the button, he heard the buzz of the door. Twelve feet away, the pretty blonde had already given Able the first four quick breathes, laying a wonderful lip lock on the older man, something Jud was sure the Police Chief was getting a helluva kick out of.
"YO!" he shouted, as he looked up the secretary's dress quite involuntarily. If she only knew how exposed she was with her tight skirt hiked up above her waist in order to get down close to the floor. Jud shook his head, wondering why his mind was in the gutter. Exchanging the breath spray for a pair of heavy pliers, he cut the line to the camera.
"YO!" he shouted again, a little louder, so Able could hear him, and then when the secretary scooted back from Able, still on her knees, he grinned.
Able rolled over, patted her on the shoulder, and said, "God, that's what I call the breath of life." He then put his fingers to his lips, slowly pulled out his 9mm automatic, and motioned the receptionist and the secretary to sit in the lobby chairs. In a moment a guard would come rushing through the second set of doors in the hallway leading into the interior of the building.
Able backed slowly to the cage, the automatic covering the two women in the lobby. Jud could see the Law Officer felt a little foolish in the role, but was inspired when the man whispered, "If they only knew this was a toy, they'd kill me for sure."
Jud grinned in reply, then as Able held the button down, Jud popped the inflatable bag out of his raincoat, and whoa-la' he was a doctor with a little black bag.
He now quickly went through the first door and grabbed the second's handle.
A disembodied voice rang out in the corridor, "Halt sir, I need to see your identification."
"Damnit man, can't you see I am a Doctor. Mr. Kopek has had a heart attack. You must have heard the call for assistance. Please let me through. The lobby guard is bringing in the rest of my equipment. Hurry, a man's life is at stake!"
Jud heard a commotion at the other side of the door, and a guard burst through the door heading out into the lobby. The new guard brushed past him, breaking all rules and Jud slipped through the door while the voice from the speaker protested with a surly "Oh Shit".
Rushing forward he now was into the inner sanctum of the building, and very close to the President's office. Stopping at a young man's cubicle, he blurted out in a breathless voice, "The President's office, quick! He's had a coronary infraction. Hurry!"
The young man only hesitated for a second, then jumped up to lead the way. At the door of the President's office, Jud stopped the man from entering, and said, "That will be all, thank you. Don't let anyone in here until I am finished. You have the authority to do this, now. Don't let me down, your President's life may depend upon it."
The young man's face shone with a new found importance and as his jaw set, ready for any trespass, Jud opened the door to the President's secretary's office, stepped in, and then closed the door.
Once in, he pulled a ski mask out of the bag, dropped it to the floor, and then once pulled out the wicked looking 357. Holding the gun at his side, he ow quietly and quickly opened the door to the President's office.
"Do not be alarmed, this is a security exercise, you are not in any real danger."
The President shot up out of his desk, and suddenly Jud felt a blunt jab at his juggler.
"Freeze. Don't even breath."
The man posing as the company President now looked him over and said, "Nethers, Queterm security. Agent Marsoni has already been here, who the hell are you?"
"Ahh, should have figured he would talk to all his big customers. I'm Taylor, Chief of Palo Alto Police. In the lobby is your Mountain View Chief, Able Stanton. Thought we did pretty good for a pair of old timers."
"You did just fine, Chief Taylor. In fact I am damned surprised you did so well. It is a good thing we are not trigger happy though, or Jimmy might have blown you away as you came in."
"Hazard of the job, I'm afraid. This is loaded with plastic bullets by the way, primer only. In case I had to prove my point. They'd hurt but they don't even draw blood" he said as the man with the gun at his jugular took away his piece.
"That is my personal property, Mr. Nethers. I'd like it back when you're satisfied."
As the gun had come away from his neck, the fake President slipped open the action of Jud's Magnum and extracted the six plastic shells. Popping open one, he grinned. "I've shot these off in my garage before. Neat idea."
Jud slowly pulled his ID and badge folder out and handed it to the second man, Jimmy. "This one's good, like to have him on my force."
"Sorry Chief," replied the man himself, "you couldn't afford me. I'm former FBI. Mr. Nethers and I took this job for the money, and the challenge. We run regular security exercises, here, though not quite as elaborate as yours I'm afraid. The second guard pushed the panic button as soon as you appeared in the lobby with your wild story." As he finished, Nethers opened the door and let in two other gun packing security people, then motioned the company President back into his own office.
Jud shook the man's hand, apologized at the inconvenience of their exercise, then was escorted back to the lobby where Able was chatting it up with his would be life saver. She was still a little giggly at her prompt rescue attempt. Jud grinned when she reached up to touch Able's shoulder as he bade her goodbye.
In the car Jud said in a depressed voice, "Well that was a waste of time."
"Oh I don't know. If I was a single man, I could have accepted the offer of Dutch treat dinner tonight. She was quite upset that she had forgotten to check for breathing before giving me the four rapid breathes. She had cherry flavored lipstick, and I had a helluva time not giving her a little tongue there for a second. Hell when she pulled her skirt up to kneel down..."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gutter mind! Girl tries to save your life and all you can do is get a hard-on. I mean the roust was a bust. Those people were waiting for us. Seems my FIBBIE friend is going around to all his big partners and cluing them in on this."
"Well, I'd expect that Jud. What we need to do is make a call on some of the other joints along here. You know, a terrorist wouldn't have to knock over a military joint. They could just as well take AMES RESEARCH, Avantek, Intel, or even H.P. The point would be to terrorize. You get better effect upon people who don't deal with the cloak and dagger shit already."
"Yeah, and it wouldn't be dangerous to walk into H.P. That's a helluva an idea, Able. But which one?"
"God yes. There are so many."
"Maybe it would have to be a company that anyone in the world would recognize. I mean, it's not just the U.S. that's involved in this. A terrorist wants to get world press, not just U.S. A big name company like IBM, DEC, or H.P. One of the internationals."
"Well if Joe McNamara isn't too busy with his next book, he'll be protecting IBM and Intel, they're in his backyard."
"Well, so's H.P."
"Not so."
"Huh?"
"H.P. has a building right down here, just past Castro!".
"Oh yeah, Mayfield. In the old shopping center."
"Right, and its a pushover. Security office is right up the main hallway, two people could grab the lobby guard, push up to the main office grab all the security folk, and then with just a few more people, seal off the entire building. Bet you could even disable the phones in no time. How much you want to bet the place has a central phone bank?"
"I'm not a taker. Okay, so what do you get when you grab an H.P. building. You get international recognition of the company, effect cuz it's in the heart of Silicon Valley, near Moffet, the Blue Cube, and most of all lots and lots of people."
"Yep. Let me check on something." Picking up the microphone of the unmarked car's radio, Able spoke, "Dispatch, Able 1, patch me to FIRETAC."
"Roger Able 1, standby, Dispatch."
In a moment the fire chief of Mountain View came on the radio.
"Able 1, FIRETAC, go."
"Roger Fred. Can you tell me how many people in the Mountain View H.P. site on Central, you know, the old Mayfield Mall."
"Standby, Able."
A minute later, as they stopped at the ever-red light at Castro and Central Expressway, the reply came back,
"We show 800 to 1000 people, Able. You have a problem?"
"No just demonstrating how efficient we can be to Jud Taylor of Palo Alto. Thanks a lot Fred."
"Hi Jud. Your slips showing. FIRETAC out."
When Able gave him a strange look, Jud replied, "Fred and I dressed in drag once when we were both on Sunnyvale Public Service. We roasted the Mayor together and almost got kicked off the force."
Able grinned as he accelerated ahead of the car in the right hand lane so he could move over to make the turn at H.P. just behind a Greyhound bus.
"Shall we case the joint?" he said in a gruff voice, attempting to emulate the television version of a hardened criminal.
"Yeah, good idea, Mugsy" replied Jud as the swerved around the bus and braked at the first of many stop signs on the H.P. site.
"Like stop signs and speed bumps don't they" commented Able as they both lurched in their sits a few times as they drove around the building.
On the opposite side of the country, Buck Dayton was fidgeting, sitting in an immensely, overstuffed chair outside the network's Chief Administrator in Washington D.C.. Martha Bradley was a no nonsense, hard-liner when it came to news. She had fought her way to the top echelons of the news business by wit and personal will, and had not softened one bit now that she had attained one of her major goals in life. Why she wanted to speak to him was a total mystery, as well as frightening.
All he had in the way of a warning was a brief "stickit" note on the face of his terminal, "Henry, please come to my office". It even had her name inscribed in a flourish of cursive style print. "Executive post-its", he thought to himself as he fingered the little sky blue square. This summons, having obviously been put on his terminal either last night or very early this morning, could be anything from a simple talk about his ratings, to a real jab about his lack of productivity. He wondered again if his fat editor really was trying to blind side him.
"Mr Dayton" asked the sweet voiced, and sadly homely woman who was Ms. Bradley's personal secretary.
As he stood she motioned him in through the door, not even bothering to announce him. Oddly enough Bradley was standing there behind the desk watching him enter instead of her usual "preoccupied with her reading" act.
"Sit down, Henry" she said quietly, and he knew he was about to be sacked. Shit!.
She sat there quietly for a moment, staring down at her desktop, not being able to look him in the eye. "God, though she is a good actress" he thought, while another part of his mind tried to imagine what a job search would be like in this town.
Finally she sighed, obviously forcing herself through the ritual despite not being able to steel herself for the duty.
"Mr. Daytong, I am sorry to have to do this..."
"I bet you are" he said to himself, wondering how he could turn such a calamity into an opportunity. His grandfather had always counselled him to turn adversity into opportunity, but somehow Buck didn't think the old man had been talking about this sad state of affairs.
"...but I am forced to make a very tough business decision. I must ask you to bury your story on the recent activity in the Pentagon you have stumbled upon..."
But she stopped at the look of surprise and glee that appeared on Buck's face.
"Why, Mr. Dayton, do you find this so funny?" she asked with a great deal of annoyance.
"I'm sorry mame, but I thought you were going to sack me. The truth is I don't have any projects running right now. I'm suffering from lack of story, not quietly sneaking around the Pentagon. But mame, if someone wants to quell me, that just means someone else has told the guys out on the farm that I'm the one with the story!"
Her look of confusion spurred him on, "Don't you see. They blew it. Not only have they tried to turn off the wrong network, but they have told us someone is about to break a big story. And by warning us they have placed us in the position of regretably agreeing only on the exclusive rights to the story. Hell, they'll have to let us in, we can check our facts. Only they won't know that we don't have any. It's beautiful!"
Ms. Bradley stared at him for only a moment before she too realized the enormity of the White House error. They had tried to quash the wrong reporter, and in doing so, had essentially admitted they were hiding something. And they had told them exactly where to look.
But her smile faded just as quickly and she said, "But Buck, I have promised not to run the story. I would assume that means that we can't air it even if we find out the details of this story we don't have."
"Well I'd check the lawyers on that one. And even so, some newshound out there has shaken them up. The way I've got it, we now can cite the standard bit about competition in the news marketplace. Hell, if someone else has the story, we have no choice to prepare to air the story. By telling us about the story, however mistakenly done so, they have given us our best defense for running the story!"
She pondered it a while before agreeing. Little did either of them know how big the story really was, and how important it was to the entire country.