"Two things we know, as of right now, regarding Kandahar. One is that we were able to confirm it was our drone that opened fire on the Canadians. We have their reports indicating that the drone was wearing U.S. markings. We have precisely identified which air base the drone originated from and who was flying it. We have analyzed the site of the attack, and the explosive trace analysis indicates our Hellfire missiles were launched there. However, we have no record of any operations underway in that area.
"The second thing we know about the Kandahar incident is that the investigation is not over. We will not close this investigation until we have all the answers to the questions about this unfortunate incident. We are committed to bring closure to the families of all the Canadians killed or wounded in that incident and to make sure those responsible for the incident will be held accountable. We are also committed to get to the bottom of the Kandahar incident, to ensure that we will take all steps needed to ensure that such incidents will not happen in the future."
"Here's another possibility for you," Stephanie offered. "Could the drone have been hacked?"
"Hacked? What do you mean by that?"
"If I understand this correctly, these drones are operated remotely. Could someone else have taken control of the drone and guided it to attack the Canadian patrol?"
"I don't think that could even be possible. The drone's connection to the remote guiding station is highly encrypted, designed to securely maintain and handover the drone control between ground stations and the UAV's controls. The uplink to the drone is highly secure."
"But wherever there's an encryption, there's also the possibility for that encryption to be, well, decrypted by unauthorized personnel," Stephanie insisted, the sarcasm in her voice picking up.
"We're examining all angles, but this, again, doesn't have an even remotely considerable likelihood of being at the root cause of the incident."
"How about Florida? What's the Air Force planning to do to find out what happened?"
"Regarding Florida, we have a little bit more information. We have determined that the UAV was inbound to Mackenzie Air Field. We have determined it was returning from a routine surveillance mission that was part of a joint operation with the United States Coast Guard, patrolling the territorial waters of the Gulf of Mexico coast. We have determined it was carrying surveillance equipment, not Hellfire missiles, or laser-guided bombs, or any other type of ordnance."
"When will we know what happened?"
"We are hoping that, within a few months, we will have all the answers to the questions regarding last week's tragedy in Florida."
"Thank you for your time and answers, even if they are so disappointingly limited at this time, major. We are hoping to see you back in our studios soon, bringing all the answers we are looking for."
"Thank you, Stephanie, looking forward to it."
…51
Well into the evening, Alex was finally heading home. She had taken advantage of the quiet Friday afternoon before the Independence Day long weekend, to finish some work she needed to turn in the following week. That maniac, Sheppard, was expecting her plan for budget cuts by Tuesday morning. She needed the rest that was promised by this long weekend, although she felt edgy and anxious, thinking how far she still was from completing what she had come here to do.
The parking lot was almost deserted at this late hour. A few scattered cars, here and there, probably belonging to the night-shift security guards and to car-pooling employees. Upstairs, not many lights were on. NanoLance had motion-sensor lighting in the offices and hallways, so as soon as there was no activity for ten minutes or so, the lights went off.
She reached her car, got behind the wheel, and started the engine. Before pulling out of the parking space, a police car pulled in front of her, flashing red and blue lights in a blinding display. It was a Chevy Tahoe, wearing the marks of the San Diego Police Department.
"Oh, crap," she muttered, "I didn't even pull out."
Behind her, a second police car was pulling in. She felt her blood come to a freeze. This was not a routine traffic stop. She put her hands on the wheel and waited.
An office stepped out of the Chevy Tahoe in front of her, leaving those blinding lights on. He approached her car, flashlight on, and tapped on her window.
"Step out of the car, ma'am." His tone did not allow for any negotiation.
She reached for her bag, but was interrupted by an impatient bang on her window, this time with the tail end of a flashlight.
"Step out of the vehicle, right now! Leave everything there."
A second cop was approaching, this one from the car that was pulled behind her Toyota.
She stepped out, and somehow found the courage to speak.
"What is this about?" She was embarrassed at how faint and trembling her voice sounded. She became aware that she was shaking, feeling weak in the knees.
"Step over here," the first cop continued, ignoring her question.
The second cop opened her car door and flashed a light inside. Seconds later, he emerged holding a small, transparent plastic bag with white powder inside.
The first cop swiftly grabbed her arm, and she felt the coldness of handcuffs on her wrists.
"Alex Hoffmann, you are under arrest for possession of a controlled substance. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"
This was not happening. Her mind was in a state of shock. I never had any controlled substance, she thought. That means drugs? I have no drugs.
The cop put the flashlight beam right in her face.
"Do you understand these rights?"
"Y-yes," she stuttered.
"I'll get this towed," the second cop said, pointing at her car.
She felt a firm hand guide her toward the first police car; same firm hand tilted her head to prevent her from hitting it against the doorframe, as she was placed in the back seat of the Tahoe.
The car started to roll, its blinding red and blue lights finally turned off. Alex felt the suffocating knot of fear strangling her, rendering her unable to breathe. She was scared out of her mind, couldn't focus on any rational thought, or come up with any explanation as to what was happening to her. She felt like screaming and sobbing at the same time; she somehow managed to do neither. The panic-driven weakness she was feeling was changing to full-blown shivers, making her teeth clatter. She desperately tried to figure out what to do. Yes, she thought, Tom will help me, I have to call Tom.
"Excuse me," she pleaded, "can I please make a phone call?"
"Well, pardon me if I don't stop this car right here to offer you my personal cell phone so you can make your goddamn phone call," the cop answered.
That settles it, she thought bitterly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Will you shut up, already? Don't wanna hear it! Jesus!"
She fell silent, feeling the coldness of the air chilling her blood. Before she could stop, tears started rolling down her cheeks.
…52
He grabbed the remote, clicked to turn the wall-mount TV off, and slammed the remote on his desk.