“Imagine if you could have increased your aggression. Imagine being flooded with adrenaline, giving you hysterical strength.”
Eric nodded slowly. “That would be useful.”
“Of course it would.” Dr. Elliot approached the window. “And, among other things, the Implant contains a chemical that will cause cardiac arrest. A kill switch, if you will.”
Eric smiled. “Now that I understand.”
Dr. Elliot turned back to the patient. “We’ll run a diagnostic on the Implant and let you know when we are ready to proceed.”
“You really need this guy?” Nancy asked.
“I do,” Eric said. “I could use the help.”
They were drinking coffee in the cafeteria. The Implant was still being tested, and he had spent much of the ensuing time preparing Frist’s training plan. “I could use the help,” he repeated. “I worked with him in Afghanistan.”
Nancy sipped her coffee, her finger tapping the red file on the table. “Deion Freeman, recruited right out of Harvard, a gift for languages. Spanish and German in high school. Pashtu and Dari in college, plus a focus on Arabic. Worked in the Counter Terrorist Center, handled some key reports to the OSA, highly recommended to be the OSA station chief, got his feet dirty in Afghanistan. That’s where you crossed paths?”
Eric nodded, remembering the mission to exfiltrate the opium farmer for interrogation. Freeman had been key to arranging the mission. “He’d be a good fit.”
“It’s your call. You’re the base CO as well as head of the project. You can request whatever you need.”
He smiled. “I’ll bet you have your own opinion.”
She casually tucked wisps of straw-colored hair behind her ear. “He’s good. He can help you with Frist. Plus, he’d be a boon to the Office. You have to understand, though, there’s always a risk when we do the approach. If we give them too much info and they say no, we’re in a bind. We might have to drop him in a hole.”
Eric watched her eyes, waiting for the twinkle. There was none. “You’re not kidding.”
“You’ve been doing your homework, you should have an idea by now how this place works.”
“Sorry, I’m used to things like due process.”
She glanced away. “Due process doesn’t exist here. Here we’re trying to keep the world from destroying itself.” She turned back to him, eyes empty. “I’ve briefed the Old Man and he’s given the green-light. I can have Freeman here in a few days. He might not be too happy about it. That’s all I’m saying.”
Eric smiled. “Since I’m recruiting, I have a few other men I think might be a good fit.” He handed her a sheet of paper with a list of names.
She yanked the list from his hand, glanced at it, and rolled her eyes.
CHAPTER FOUR
The sun peeked over the mountains, the sky an indigo twilight caught between dawn and morning, when Fulton Smith’s plane arrived. Eric braced himself against the morning chill as he watched the Gulfstream, a twin to his, taxi down the runway. The pungent smell of jet fuel washed over him, and his mind flashed back to other runways, other superior officers.
Smith stepped from the plane, his suit pressed, face bland.
“Good morning, sir,” Eric said.
Smith smiled faintly. “No need for pleasantries. You’re up to speed?”
“Getting there,” Eric said.
“I’m sure you’re doing well. Now, take me to the chamber.”
Eric led Smith to his Humvee and they headed back to the base. He still wasn’t used to the underground tunnel, but he had read the instructions and knew how to read the LCD screen in the dash. With the state of the Russian economy and the crumbling satellite infrastructure, there were hours between flyovers and the LCD screen gave a green light to raise the hidden door to the tunnel.
He glanced at the dash. The screen displayed the time of the next Russian satellite fly-by. By the time the satellite was overhead, Smith’s plane would be parked in a hangar and they would be in the underground base.
He put his thumb on the reader and keyed the button to open the hidden door. They shot down the tunnel and he keyed the door closed behind them. They reached the main door and checked in through security, and switched from the Humvee to an electric cart.
He cleared his throat. “Sir, if you don’t mind a question?”
Smith turned to look at him, the corridors whizzing past, the occasional lab technician or soldier stopping to let them pass. “Speak freely, Mr. Wise. Always with me, speak freely.”
“How is this possible? I mean, we are far outside of what the Constitution permits. The Posse Comitatus act states we are not to operate on domestic soil.”
Smith nodded gravely. “I understand your concern, Mr. Wise. Let me explain. I was a young man when I met President Truman. He knew my grandfather, you see. I was ready to deploy to Korea, when my brother was killed. I was summoned to the White House. I thought meeting the President was the most momentous thing that would happen in my life. I was wrong. I met the President and another man, a man named Barth. Barth never spoke during the meeting. The President recalled the times spent with my grandfather in Kansas City. He then asked what kind of man I would like to be. I said I hoped to survive the war, to marry, have children. I couldn’t imagine anything else.”
He paused, lost in thought. “The President had almost been assassinated. I think this above all else planted the seed in his mind. He asked if I’d accept a job. He felt that to maintain the United States, to continue the grand experiment, a more comprehensive solution was needed. He tasked me with creating the Office of Threat Management. An office that would work outside the laws, outside the Constitution. He tasked me with saving the world.”
Eric took a right turn and continued up a long ramp, watching Smith out of the corner of his eye. “And, you accepted.”
“Of course. Suddenly, I wasn’t going to war in Korea. I found myself at war here in the United States. Barth, as it turns out, was the President’s man. A position long held and little known. He fixed things that needed fixing. One man who did the unthinkable. It wasn’t enough. Over the next year I built an organization, brought in soldiers and spies, scientists and researchers. There were threats everywhere. The Cold War raged. The country faced problems, internal and external. The outlook was grim. Nuclear war was a distinct possibility. We acted. We stopped riots, assassinations, bombings. We influenced, we spied, and we killed. We did this globally. We were not peaceful men. And, we weren’t always right. We became better at analyzing data, better at predicting the unpredictable. It was better to kill one man to stop a war. One life to save thousands. Or millions. A conflict in Africa that could spin out of control. Starvation in Turkey that could end with an occupation of the Middle East.”
Eric nodded, steering the cart through the final hallway. “You still need someone to act.”
“In most situations we funnel our data to existing agencies. But, in extreme cases, yes, we need someone who can act. A weapon, to be unleashed only when necessary.”
They arrived at the chamber. “We’re here,” Eric said.
Smith smiled. “Yes, Mr. Wise. We most certainly are.”
The room was the size of a small gymnasium. A full-height glass window partitioned it in half, the back filled with stadium seats, enough to hold hundreds of people. The seats were filled with white-coated technicians, and there were very few empty spots left.
Eric led Smith down to the front, a few meters from the ground. Their seats afforded them an excellent view and they watched as the techs behind the glass prepared for the experiment.