Business as Unusual
Chapter 35

Copyright© 2017 by autofocus

Sex Story: Chapter 35 - Orphaned computer nerd assembles huge team of assorted housemates as he discovers his solitude/orphanitude ain't a bit like the brochure. Spies, bad guys and family lurk around every corner. Atypical days in NYC are the norm.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Crime   Humor   Mystery   Workplace   Extra Sensory Perception   Incest   Brother   Sister   Daughter   Cousins   Light Bond   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Black Female   White Male   Oriental Female   Hispanic Female   Indian Female   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Voyeurism   Public Sex   Small Breasts   Nudism   Politics  

One of these days I was going to ask Amy, Karen and Phoebe why girls always volunteered a cuteness evaluation, including boob size and other personal information when describing another girl to me, even if it should make no intellectual difference. Really, I asked for history, professional ability and political trends. Now I know Irma’s bra size and that is somehow an important part of the answer? Maybe it relates to self-confidence and demeanor? I should talk to Rochelle, the counselor, about their answers. But she probably will be topless and I won’t remember the reasons, if a there are any.

It took thirty minutes for the ‘analysts’ to arrive. Rather than wait, I called Levi Steiner first assuring him Frieda was doing great. “She’s a good girl and a great friend to the family. Smart and fearless kid, Levi, you done good.”

“It must be genetic, Mark, she takes after her mother, rest her soul. Thanks.” He sighed, “Sophie Meyerson was the only woman I ever cared about. No matter what I said that night, Frieda is my daughter. Treat her well. She is all I have left of much better and simpler times. Those days are gone, but these days are in flux. Something is stirring. We can feel it. Can you share?”

“I would in a heartbeat, but we have nothing more concrete than a sense of dread and hints of trouble. The usual major players, the Triad, Russians and Cosa Nostra, are battening the hatches. The Neo-Nazis and Cult Crazies are crippled but not totally out of the picture. This feels too big for them. The Colombian, Bolivian and Mexican Cartels are not expanding appreciably and the Tokyo Yakuza is quiet for now.”

“Same conclusions here. It’s possible we are seeing a new coalition of broken enemies but that would take time and leave tracks. Israeli Intelligence and the Mossad are picking up motion but no clues. Something is oozing to fill the power gap created by our recent adventures and the Yakuza self-destruct. Same with your NSA and DIA contacts?”

“Unfortunately, yes. But I’m trying a new approach. If it works, we’ll forward the results. I’m kinda thinking your people will get involved big somehow. Which brings me to a question or two. Hezbollah in Haifa widowed one of my analysts, Janine Tudor, in 2001. Her husband, Edward, was a career diplomat on vacation and was killed by a bus bomb. Is he, like Sophie, a direct victim of Sarah’s treachery or was he an innocent bystander? I think Janine would be comforted knowing justice was served. She’s our writing expert and can tell us if one author is using multiple identities.”

“I can check against that bitch’s known crimes and look for his name. I know she is responsible for Sophie in 1998 and was very busy afterwards. It’s possible she sold him out since she had access to foreign officials’ travel plans.” He was silent for a few seconds. “The sound of the blast fades quickly. The pain doesn’t. I’ll consider it a privilege to help your colleague get some peace.”

“Sorry I’m calling with empty hands out, Levi but I lost contact with a very close friend in late 1994 when her family moved to Tel Aviv. Hope Rabin wanted to join a science and study kibbutz and would have been fourteen or fifteen. She emigrated with her parents, Abraham and Esther Rabin, maybe shortened at Ellis Island from Rabinowitz way back when. They were Professors in the Humanities Department at UNC Chapel Hill if that helps. I would just like to know how she is doing.”

“Immigration records at the port of entry. Graduations, university rolls, accomplishments, most people are findable. Your friends will appear on a census somewhere. Israel is not huge. That one’s easy. This is not a high price for what you’ve done for us nor for what you might share later. Even failures narrow the search. Anything else?”

“Whatever you can tell me about Riza al Aziz would be appreciated.” I started, “Former Christian exiled from her native Lebanon, world class religious scholar, expert on all faith based poetry and imagery. She’s on the team. Who forced her out? Lebanon was very tolerant once. Who broke it?”

“She’s pretty famous, her timeline against political pressures might give answers to her exit from Beirut. Using her to read between the lines is a great idea. A casual reference to a mythic hero can say a lot.” He chuckled, “The hard part is finding the lines.”

“Welcome to my world of studied confusion, Levi. Thanks for any info you can pass along and I’ll try to get some clues to your spooks.”

Next, I sequestered Suki, Yumi and Ellie in my inner offices with their personal secure laptops. After reinstalling the modified very snoopybots, I gave them their instructions. “It’s like the night we found the Evans sisters’ studio equipment. As results come up on these three screens, send details to Beth downtown. Your job is to dig deeper into anything that looks related to anything else. We’re looking for the source of tension around here. If you see a face in Cairo and the name in Peoria, run the connections. Save blog entries entirely. Save everything anyway.”

“No limits, Boss?”

“None whatsoever. If our names come up, find out why. If a woman came through customs and caught a taxi, tell me who drove it, who owns it. Trace them backwards and forwards. Did her credit card number show up in Charleston the same time a credit card used once in Phoenix shows up at the same place later? Track everybody there. Trade info with the Bat Cave.”

“We’re looking in the dark for something we can’t see in daylight.” Yumi said. “The usual. You need girl brainpower, Master. We got this.”

“Can we ask about the teachers?” Suki asked. “How do they fit in?”

“I’m getting them together with Amy and possibly Frieda into a profiling think tank. Print out webpage dialogue, blogs, manifestoes, texts, prose, threats and emails. Number them and delete the claimed authors. Keep a indexed list of the writers separate. I want Ms al Aziz and Ms Tudor to do blind comparisons and interpretations. The others can try to put it into a historical and political context. Tell me what is really being said by whom.”

“I got it, Boss. The difference between a grassroots movement and Astroturf: A letter to the editor is printed in Mobile, signed by Maybelle Smith. The same letter is printed in Bangor, signed by Roberto Johnson, then in San Rafael, by Bill and Sandy Delvecchio, etc. Someone is supplying the text and tone and making it seem to be a grassroots, widespread, popular movement, when really it’s just a couple of people pretending to be hundreds.”

“You do got it. Call me when you get the first connections. Share ideas with the Bakers. Start printing as soon as you can.” I started to leave. “We’ll need something to give the analysts so they can help us narrow the search.”

Before I made it out the door, Yumi called.

“You got fast bots! Master, this is weird. One of the airport faces in San Diego is on a taxi camera there and the same cam in Albuquerque. He and the cabbie checked into a motel on I-40. I see it on the lobby cam. Room 217. They used the free wifi.”

“Great catch, pet. The cab company is suspect, too. Send the names to Anne, and we’ll hack the wifi.”

Anne on the phone, I said, “Yumi is getting hits already. The cab company in your inbox is our first link. Are they real, why long fares, and how are they dispatched? Check the cab cam faces against our databases. Where did they come from, where did they go and who did they see? Follow them.”

“Carol got some ATM face recog. hits. Doing the same. We should be on ear comms so we can talk to your data miners there quickly.”

“Do it. Done. Also send any text you think apropos to our printers. Substitute a number for the name and keep a separate log. Blog entries, website intro, emails chats, anything our linguists can read for hidden agendas.”

“Bad grammar might be code.” Beth said. “And what the hell does this email mean, ‘Stay away from Darra Pesco in Topeka, threesomes suck. Check the docket in St. Joseph. We’ll bond in KC flip.’ Code?”

“Look at a map. Albuquerque is on I-40, Topeka, Kansas is on I-70. We have travel routes. St. Joseph is north on I-29, another corridor. The docket is a schedule of cases. Check for ‘Courtyard Inns’ or similar names. Cross match registration lists. We may have an assembly point.” I grinned, “KC flip, Kansas City, MO? Not the state with Topeka where they are or were.”

“Sending ATM info, Mark. Generic account holders, multiple cards. This is your baby.”

A light went off. “You won’t find ‘Darra Pesco’. That’s an anagram for ‘radar scope’. Means to avoid roads with traffic cameras. Secondary roads have convenience stores and filling stations with card scanners and security cameras. Use them. Tertiary roads suck, too slow.”

“Sir, this needs to happen simultaneously and get a focused feedback system in place.” Amy rushed in with Max. “Ellie, set her up with a tablet booted to one of those anagram generators. Girls, give her the wonky crap and see what our crazed poet can decipher.”

The printer was going wild. “Girls, you’re doing good. Stay frosty. Don’t pass up foreign sites and chats. We speak fifteen languages here. Use our every tool in the box. Translate literally, word for word, and figuratively, like parsing bad fiction. Print both. Make note of sites trying to recruit.”

Carol in my ear, “The colonel was right. This is big, but vague as hell. Misspellings might be keyword dodges. Max, prepare for incoming. You might want to get Sam in the loop. Get her to do simple searches on various typo errors while you untangle anagrams.”

“I’m bringing the mainframe online. When I say the word, route to the mothership, copy Billings. We need muscle. Amy, grab the printouts and follow me. We need to talk to the brain trust in the Annex.”

“Confirm on cab company. Owners legit. Report long fares as stolen vehicles. Still drilling, same owners, multiple cities. CYA? Running driver info. Pictures with names.” Anne called in, “Billings is getting details.”

“Tell him we’re working the area between I-20, north to I-80, west to east. Our first feeder connection was I-29. Suggest he filter traffic cams on the interstates and service areas on parallel secondary roads near major interchanges for rest stops and refueling.”

I scooted out before they could distract me with more extremely important info and went to the rear where the real computing power lived. Basically, a large cluster of towers feeding two beefy servers and receiving tasks in return. The two servers get instructions from another larger server. Operationally, huge tasks are broken into smaller bits and distributed to the satellites. Answers are reassembled by the middle machines, analyzed and fed back to the main for final computations.

The girls were inputting data into the main. It separated the information, based on earlier results and my programming, sending parts to the server currently calculating a similar problem, face rec. images to one and blog text to the other. As space allowed, every machine in the cluster could reach out to the web to fill in the blanks. One piece of the puzzle doesn’t have to wait for the previous to be found. They happen all at once and can be modified as new information comes in.

Potentially thirteen raw data searches and six more filtered through human logic and intuition, all being sorted, matched and evaluated on the spot. A complex photograph created out of thin air. Eat your heart out Oak Ridge.

I ported the main monitor to my big touch-screen tablet.

“OK, ladies. Send your hits and extracted data to Main One. The big cruncher is hungry. Keep the Colonel in the loop. Amy, on me.”

The conference room cadre was abuzz already. After introductions all around, I got started. “Than you for coming at such short and mysterious notice, but our situation is, I’m sorry to say, likely dire.”

I fully explained our brief history, our mission and our training and credentials. They accepted it all with a nod of understanding. At least the groundwork was laid. I went on to tell them current fears and their role in raveling the plot.

“Ladies, what we have is a few strands in a web. We need to know who is weaving it and why. Normally we exist as a group on the verge of conflict. Our Federal mandate is to detect threats and delegate the solutions to the people tasked to deal with a specific problem. We recently have had to take rather dramatic action ourselves.” I hesitated. “Our rules of engagement are to do what we think is necessary to keep our city safe. We are surprisingly good at our job. As a result, we have many enemies.”

“And this involves us how?” Mitzi asked.

“Not you specifically, yet. Hold your horses. We need for Drs. al Aziz and van Damme and Ms Tudor to read a pile of unsigned text. Janine, if I may be informal, can tell us how many separate authors are involved. Most are postings from different IPs in different locales. Could be one person, bouncing from one server to another. Could be many. How many voices are speaking?”

“I’m asking Riza to read for content and hidden meaning. Are there references to myths and legends carrying specific instructions? Are there cultural equivalents an outsider won’t see? For instance, would a Kenyan respond to Merlin Olsen? Pro football player, Grizzly Adams, gentle frontier giant or Arthurian magician? Or would it mean nothing?” I smiled, “If they are doing God’s work, which God and is he or she known for having a bad attitude? Are they going to Disney World?”

“Rochelle, straight up psychoanalyze every author, based on their writing style and Riza’s conclusions. Crazy or calculating? If Janine says two opposing opinions came from the same brain, tell me what they intend to accomplish.”

“Irma, I need you to put it into a modern political context. Are they working toward a goal, advancing an agenda, making a prophecy come true? We need to know the whys and for whoms before we can find the whats and whens.”

“Portia, do the same in a historical sense. Are Riza’s conclusions related to actual events as they happened? Payback for the Crusades or the sacking of Rome? Anything at all will help, no matter how unlikely.”

Now, I addressed the others. “Mitzi, Tara, Justine, Yvonne, Cecilia, Claudia and Faye are seasoned teachers, dealing with groups of individuals. You have experience in diverse fields and the intelligence to get advanced degrees. That means desperately needed, un-indoctrinated eyes, seeing this for the first time, in this venue. Your first impressions will keep the rest of out of mental ruts. Mitzi, I meant no disrespect earlier. But I needed to define the battlefield. You need to tell us how this pile of papers defines a group.”

Frieda came in with more paper. “News, not good. Four gun shop burglaries in our zone, two off I-60, one each near I-40 and I-80.”

“Traveling light, gearing up as they move. Smart.” I grimaced. “Evidence?”

“No video, but on the predicted routes. Some prints. DHS doing forensics. More texts. Bad grammar, big words. Smart guy trying to dumb it down.” She spun and went back to the boiler room.

“Ladies, if you doubt the seriousness of the position we’re in or our sincerity, look in the war room. Look at the weaponry trained at our entry points. Those are not for decoration. There is trouble brewing and our job is to stop it. Failure is not an option. Please be thorough and precise, but hurry. This not a video game. Dead players stay dead.”

The consultants got to work.

Suki ran in. “We have mentions of Tel Aviv and direct links to Islamabad and Amman. We need Bonnie, Leigh and Frieda to translate.”

“Port the hits to their personal computers. Send them in here to work with Dr. al Aziz.” She touched her tablet and I paged Caralyn. “Toon, you on comms?”

“What you need, Master?”

“Spell Leigh at the door. She’s needed in the data center.”

“On it. No Chinese?”

“Not yet. Suki, send the links to Levi Steiner at his office. The address is in my phone. He needs to tell Israeli Intelligence. The web spreads.”

“Colonel Billings already knows, Ma ... Major.”

“Good work, thanks, darling.” She beamed and sped out.

We set the translators up on a side table. The consultants worked steadily for the next two hours. As Janine matched voices, I sent her answers to Ellie and Beth with instructions to establish the unique identities with different aliases in the search engines.

We began to get odd reports of break-ins at small doctor’s and dentist’s offices. This was very not good.

Random comments from the table included, “This guy is well read.” “Who thinks like that?” “That’s an avenging angel.” “This is Hercules cleaning the stables and killing the Hydra.” “Heroes at the head of a cleansing horde.” “That whole pile is one person? He’s nuts.” “I don’t understand, what do Nazis and the Yakuza have in common today.” “French colonialism, that’s what this means.” “Yeah. Jesus is an Islamic prophet, not a son of Allah.” “British occupation, Russian invasion, and Silk Road have to reference the broken Afghanistan heroin trade.” “Resist the Imperialists to the death.” “Seven days of Creation in Genesis. Seven Day War. The Seventh Seal. Seven days in a week. Seventh son of a seventh son. Seven Beauties?”

After a while, Riza, Irma and Portia looked up in confusion. “This can’t be true! Four distinct opposing groups in two tense alliances. What’s the common cause?”

Amy slapped the table. “Sneaking the weapons in one piece at a time. Dien Bien Phu. Isolated, surrounded.”

“Exactly. A stealth army crossing impossible terrain to attack the smug, impregnable fortress. We’re cast as the French but the approaching army is two opposing forces, one invading, the other reclaiming.” I agreed. “Ho Chi Minh racing another occupation force for control of Vietnam as the the French fall.”

“Sir, are we looking at a Neo-Nazi/Al Qaeda coalition and a Japanese Mafia/Militant Christianists alliance racing each other to take us down first, dig in and repel the other force once we’re gone?” Amy sighed, “History repeating with a stutter. Frankenstein’s zombie armies.”

“Amy, how do you see that in these details?” Mitzi asked, “This is not your field.”

I cut in. “But it is precisely her specialty. Art history is the study of trends and patterns, how one blends into another. Amy knows as much about symbolism as any of you, but she is tuned to changes and causes on a different template. She has a knack for seeing the end goals and then working backwards to anticipate the ways to achieve it. You and Irma are athletes. You understand game theory and evaluation of the competition. Irma reads policies and you read relative strengths. Is that the same as a strategic battle plan? Same rules, different players. To Amy, the missing puzzle pieces are as important as the ones on the table. Why are they missing? What would fill the void?”

“More break-ins, Boss.” Ellie, this time. “Clinics and construction sites. Security cams show the known Yakuza and Christians-for-Profit involved. Beth confirms from the Bat Cave. Billings is frantic. What can I tell him?” She handed me a note. Fuck me dead! More troubles and complications.

“I will in a minute or two. Call Levi, bring him up-to-date.”

I entered the information Ellie passed on my tablet and set the bots free. Answers came back immediately because I knew where to look. “Karen, you listening?”

“Everyone is, Mark. This is worst case?”

“Not yet but getting there. Call your Dad. Tell him to pull his associates back as far as he can. Make no alliances, none whatsoever. Be invisible. You and Irina come home. Bring the thick pieces of MMTG and borrow the extra portable laser and the table. Tell Nat I want a case of M-16s and ammo. Now.”

I called Chin directly, speaking in Mandarin, “We both feel the pall over the city, Mr. Chin. We are about to go under siege. I strongly suspect our common enemies have allied to create havoc. You need to clean your house. Certain of your mainland associates are funneling money to a Nazi/Al Qaeda coalition that will destroy your local businesses. Follow the money. They make no attempt to conceal their actions. Fatal arrogance.”

“This is not good. These are people with whom I do not wish my name linked. Thanks for the information. I will call you.” Brief and to the point, there was heat in his voice. He cut the connection. He was not a happy mob boss.

Frieda, floating where she was needed now, called through the door. “Papa Levi is coming over with answers to your questions. Twenty minutes. I’ve warned Toon at the door.”

I called Billings on the sat phone. “Answers, and you are not going to like any of them. Can I put you on speaker?”

“Your advisory council passed. All are five or above. Stellar choices, quality people. Send new photos and preferred names. ID’s coming. Put me on. What do you have?”

I read him in completely, including the secret financing from Asia. “Sir, you need to put personnel in place at every soft site where X-ray and CAT scans happen, where radiation therapy is used. The Yakuza/Reactionary faction is collecting material to build dirty bombs. They will contaminate and deny the territory to all if they can’t claim it. The other guys want to occupy and control. Cover every road you can into the city with detectors. This is more deadly than we thought. Please move now. Our tracking puts the advance elements within 300 miles of the tunnels. Munitions will not be far behind. Minutes count.”

“Crap. At least we know.” I heard shouts in the background. “We are under cyber attack! The whole fucking DoD! The walls are holding, but we are locked in, blind. Your tracker programs say ‘Origin: China’.”

“That is an act of war, Colonel. Close everything on your personal computer and return to the start page. Stay connected to your network.”

I led him through the procedures as before, but changed the code entries. “Sir, when you press ‘control’ and hit ‘enter’, international hell will break loose. The intrusion will stop because the intruders’ computers will wipe and self-destruct. You will find a log of the actual addresses where the attack originated.”

“I had no idea. How long has that program been sitting on my drive?”

“Since day one, Sir. I knew one day we would have to pull out all the stops and wanted them in place before the situation red-lined. That day is here. Be aware of the consequences before you press the button.”

“Excuse me, sir. Irma van Damme here. Dr al Aziz and I agree and find no cause to hesitate. The Chinese cannot admit to the unprovoked act of war and will never mention the return strike admitting the vulnerability. They will try to conceal any complicity and association with the Japanese criminal element and Triad influences in China proper.”

“They will not be able to trace your response back to the source, in any case, Sir. You are good to go, but all I ask is that you be aware of the destruction you are about to visit on them. Eventually they will seek revenge and could strike against the West in general.”

“Fuck ‘em. I will not be held hostage and cannot work blind.” He triggered the killer bots. “Pardon my language.”

“That is a one-time program. I have to reinstall if we need to do this again.”

“As always, do what you think necessary, Major Allyn. Tell me when I need to know.” He answered. “Now we both take care of business. Ladies, welcome to the wonderful world of national security. Thank you for your excellent service.”

I had to make a hard choice. “Everyone, listen up. Do not tell a soul. We do not need to have a mass exodus, bridges and tunnels clogged to a standstill, millions of people stranded outside and exposed. Panic will kill more than the radiation. Chaos is worse than the threat. Pennys, you need to get yourselves and the Stars to the Bat Cave. Seal up the factory and move ASAP. You will have better shielding and plenty of room. Hit the grocery in transit. The triplets and Billi should come back here. We have tons of room to hide. I need my Ninjas.”

“Moving now, Major. Lt. Montoya will deliver the Bakers and Billi forthwith.” Laura responded. “OK folks, we have our marching orders. Step to it.”

“Phoebe. You have a choice. Sgt. Griffin and Lance Cpl. Cash can airlift you and the kids out or you can take a stand with us. Otherwise they are to disable the helicopter and cutter if they can’t be moved closer to Chandler’s Row. Your call, Captain McLean. Sgt. Karlson, you and the pilots should stick with the team at your armory.”

“Mark, we’re staying. You may need my skills and I have a pleasant surprise for you. I hired a doctor. Billings cleared her at a six. Two docs are better than none. I’ll catch a ride with Tina as soon as we pack up.”

I called Billings back. He answered with, “Major Allyn, tell me good news. You have a plan?”

“This is a credible threat. Your people need to alert the NYPD and Transit Police. Circulate photos of the known conspirators with instructions to apprehend. On the feeder routes to the bridges and tunnels, set it up like a DUI or drug checkpoint. Use bomb sniffer dogs instead of drug dogs. Geiger counters instead of breathalyzers. Collect passengers.”

“Easy enough. Those aren’t the only ways in, however.”

“Harbor patrols with stop and search authority. Make them run a gauntlet on the PATH and commuter trains. Flood the access points with radiation and explosives detectors two or three stops out. Track persons of interest, those we know who met with the known guilty, but have no reason to arrest. GPS beacons are cheap and easy to hide.”

“Agreed. I’ll put Zack to work ASAP. I hate to tell you, but the Upper West Side is the probable first target, the gap left in the eyes of the Yakuza and the home office of everything the Nazis and Religionists hate. Al Qaeda is a wild card and could hit anywhere.”

“But they always favor soft targets. Cops at Police Plaza expect to be attacked, not unprotected operagoers at Lincoln Center. More terror per pound. Reinforces the ‘No one is safe’ mantra. A house full of schoolgirls ought to be irresistible.”

“Which makes the Academy at Riverside and 72nd an attractive target.”

“Attractive, but not primary. Summer. School is out. Consider that my analysts say they are paired Yakuza/Christianist Radicals against Neo-Nazi/Islamic Militants and the first coalition has the nuclear potential. That suggests the ones we think most likely to use strategic WMDs don’t control them and might be threatened themselves later, depending on who takes us out. Which is not going to happen. We don’t even know if the Nazi/Al Qaeda faction knows about the dirty bombs. The Yakuza/Christianist Radicals will use them if they are losing to us or their strange bedfellows.” I sighed and continued, “Colonel, I sound like I’m contradicting myself, but with the increasing amount of information, conclusions change. Both coalitions have factions that want to convert us to their religion and factions that will destroy what they can’t conquer. I do feel that contamination of the sought-after territory is not the first choice for anyone.”

“The one favorable detail on the list of gloomy news. Pittsburgh, Boston, Philadelphia, DC and Baltimore are at DefCon 5, shadow shields deployed. I’ll have DHS raise NYC from DefCon 4 to 5. Talk to your precinct contacts; advise them to increase patrols from 59th Street to 96th. I will encourage quick facial recognition downtown.”

“Bomb disposal and Haz Mat teams have to move together and be rapid response, airborne mobile. They must not be stationary. The bombs have to be disarmed immediately on sight, on site.” I hesitated. “In addition, except for the approaches to LaGuardia and JFK, you should declare New York a no-fly zone. Say it is a failure of security at an unspecified airport and you are being careful. All we need is a radioactive crop duster or a suicide pilot with a load of hot cobalt.” I confessed. “Try as I might, I can’t see a scenario where we don’t take unacceptable casualties no matter how many counter measures we put in place. We have to change the game somehow.”

“We’re in bizarre times when extreme measures seem to be almost insufficient. I hope they haven’t thought that far ahead.” He made a sad noise. “I can get the FAA on board but fighter plane cover won’t be quick enough.”

“Thanks, boss. People should be aware that the bombers would have little experience handling radioactive substances. They will trigger a rad counter and are dead already. Don’t forget the drones. Gotta go. We have to find and take out the trash that gets through the screen and limit collateral damage.”

“Major Allyn, you have ground command. It’s good plan, but what are you not telling me?” I could hear the smile. “Where’s the crazy?”

“The crazy happens in the execution, Colonel. That’s our style.”

“I’ll concede that. Your team has more style than any covert, black ops crew ever had or ever will. People are still talking about you and your girls shooting skeet with severed heads.” He laughed, “Crazy elevated to an art form. The Art of War for the modern urban commando. Good luck, Mark. Keep the info flowing. I have work to do. Later.”

He rang off and I got down to the nitty gritty. “Coffee. Reuben. Chips. Soon. I need 10-20s and sit reps. Talk to me, people.”

 
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