“But why destroy your home? You weren’t even there.”
“I was supposed to be. Whoever did this — whoever leaked the information about the Center — knows our schedules. The homes of those on duty weren’t targeted, just those who weren’t.”
“That kind of information would have to come from someone inside the RDC, unless you were hacked.”
“We weren’t hacked, Tiffany. Whoever helped coordinate this attack is one of us.”
They began to hear small arms fire — and even rifle shot — from below. Looking down, they noticed that a number of the occupants of Cedar Lane had taken up arms against the odd, hovering craft. In light of all that had happened today, any strange craft in the air was considered a threat.
Xander gained more altitude, taking them out of range.
“What now?” Tiffany asked.
“I don’t know. Eventually the bad guys will learn that I wasn’t home. I’m sure that part of their overall strategy involved taking out every RDC pilot they can. It’s been the ongoing goal of a number of terrorist organizations since we began operating. Without the RDC to help combat further attacks, they’ll probably just keep coming until they get us all.”
“Is there anywhere you can hide until this blows over?”
“Blows over? You really think this will just blow over?”
“Eventually the RDC will get back on its feet, or the other agencies will step up to fill the void.”
“There will be interim steps taken, but we’re still looking at several weeks before even a modest defense can be mounted. In the meantime, the terrorists will have free rein throughout the country.”
“What about the other bunkers across the country. You have literally thousands of drones available, don’t you?”
Xander set the hovercopter off on a course south, towards the California/Nevada border. He was tired of watching his home burn to the ground.
“The drones in the bunkers are basically useless right now,” he said. “We have some very restrictive transponder signals that pass between the drones and the command center. Without those transponder signals being activated, the drones will not respond to commands, not without lengthy and exhaustive reprogramming. They were designed so they couldn’t be hacked or their controls overridden. With the mainframes destroyed and our communications capabilities gone, there’s no way to gain control over the drones in the bunkers.”
“So they cut off the head of the snake…” Tiffany said.
“They knew what to do and how to do it.”
“Coming back to my original question: Is there any place you can hide, at least until you can get in touch with the government for protection?”
“I know a few people in San Diego, but that would only expose them to danger, too.”
“I have a place up in Idyllwild that you could stay at.”
Xander looked over at the woman. “That would place you in danger.”
Tiffany grinned — a wide, clown-like grin. “As if I’m not already in enough trouble? Just look at me, I’m a mess. It’ll be fine. The cabin is secluded and no one even knows I have it. It’s been in my family for twenty years. I use it as a refuge when I need a break from real life — like now!”
“Are you sure about this? You didn’t ask for any of this to happen to you — just the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Mr. Moore — that’s your last name, right? — well you know what I do for a living, and although certain security regulations may not allow me to report on all I’ve seen and heard today, I know eventually I’ll be able to tell my story. And that has blockbuster written all over it. So, honestly, I’d like to stick around a little while longer to see how this story ends.”
Xander looked out the window of the hovercopter and scanned the multiple black columns of smoke filling his view. “Let’s hope it doesn’t end up with one of those rising above your mountain cabin, Ms. Collins.”
“You’ve managed to keep me alive so far. I’m sure you can do it for a while longer.”
Xander just smirked. “Idyllwild, you say? I’ve always loved that area.”
“Hey, don’t get your expectations up. It’s not one of those really fancy places down around the lake.”
“I just appreciate the offer. Now… California here we come.”
Chapter 9
Xander gunned the hovercopter while also descending to just over a hundred feet off the ground. It was nearly dark on a moonless night in mid-December, but the ground-sensing equipment aboard the copter would keep them safe — and hopefully undetected — for the two hour journey to the San Jacinto mountain community of Idyllwild.
Xander couldn’t take anything for granted when it came to the masterminds behind today’s attack. They could have access to live satellite feeds, or the ability to tap into radio and cell communications — not that they had a cellphone between them. All communications devices, including iPads, Kindles and cellphones, were required to be checked at the entrance to the RDC. Xander noticed that even Tiffany’s handbag was missing — assuming she came to the Center with one. Without the copter’s radio functioning, they had no way to communicate with the outside world without landing somewhere and bumming a phone off some startled civilian.
In two hours they would be at Tiffany’s cabin. It would be good to fall off the grid for a while, giving their trail a chance to cool.
So the hovercopter skirted along the high desert of California for a hundred miles, with Xander doing his best to stay within the ground clutter of radar and satellite observation.
“How did you get into this whole drone thing in the first place?”
“My older brother got me into it. He was always tinkering around with something, and one day he brings home this quadcopter.”
“Is he in the industry as well?”
“No, he was killed in Iraq in 2008.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Xander.”
“That’s okay. He died doing what he truly loved, which is the most any of us can hope to say. Anyway, when he died I inherited his drone. I thought it was kind of fitting that I keep flying it, since he loved it so much. After a couple of years, some friends and I formed a club called the Alpha Pilots. We began having competitions amongst ourselves and other clubs.”
“What kind of competitions?”
“You know, war games, that sort of thing. Crash and burn, chases, obstacle courses — we even put paintball guns on them and fired at each other. Anyway, there were formal leagues starting at the time and we joined those, too. We would meet in huge warehouses and have combat fights.”
“How was that possible?”
“They’d hang big nets from the ceiling and two drones would enter and fight to the symbolic death. The goal was to knock your opponent out of the air. Turning them upside down on their propellers was a sure kill. Then we moved outside, usually to paintball fields, and that’s when things got really rough.”
“Where were you at the time?”
“San Diego County, mainly in San Marcos and Vista, north of the city. It’s an area known to UAV warriors as Drone Valley, just as San Jose and Palo Alto are known as Silicon Valley to computer geeks.
“About that time a billionaire investor formed the first Drone Olympics, thinking this was going to be the next big thing. The Alphas joined, and wouldn’t you know it, we ended up winning the whole damn thing, going up against the best pilots from across the country — hell, there were even people from Japan and Europe competing. It was really cool.”
“So I’m sitting next to an Olympian. I’m impressed. You got medals and everything?”
Xander’s expression turned sour. “I did. Unfortunately, they were in my house back in Henderson.”