QLEPNV
RHTNDM
TIHDFN
PILVNF
DFJRUE
EHDBCN
FNDHFJ
UOTYKW
SJWURH
WKCMSK
ZXCVBN
WELKJH
EDCVUJ
UJNHYT
EFVIKM
EDCHYN
VBNMKJ
ASDFGH
HJKLPO
SDFGHY
RTYUIO
OIUYGB
EDFVRT
Powers pulled out a copy of the pocket-sized battalion field SOP, which every team was required to carry when they departed post on a training mission. He turned to page one and matched the letters from the message with the corresponding letter from the first page. Powers didn't need a trigraph; he had long ago memorized the standard three-letter groupings. Combining the original Morse letter with the letter from the page in the Bn SOP gave him the third letter on the trigraph, which made the message readable.
Swiftly his pencil ran down the page, making the message intelligible.
ZEROON
EXXODA
SIXEIG
HTTWOX
XSITRE
PXXSPE
NTDAYS
EARCHI
NGWOOD
SFORES
CAPEDM
ONKEYS
XXGOVE
RNMENT
LABHER
EGRIDO
NESIXS
DRONES
EVENTH
REESIX
FOURNI
NEXXXO
NESIXS
DRONES
EVENTH
REESIX
FOURNI
NEXXDI
AXXXDI
AINCHA
RGEXXS
HOULDB
EHOMES
OONXXA
MIGOXX
XXXXXX
Used to dealing with the six-letter groups, Powers's mind assimilated the message:
ZERO ONE (indicated that it was the first message the team sent)
ODA SIX EIGHT TWO (designated the team that sent the message)
SITREP (situation report)
SPENT DAY SEARCHING WOODS FOR ESCAPED MONKEYS
GOVERNMENT LAB HERE GRID ONE SIX SDR ONE SEVEN THREE SIX FOUR NINE
DIA (repeat) DIA IN CHARGE
SHOULD BE HOME SOON
AMIGO
Amigo was ODA 682's code word to ensure that the message wasn't being sent under distress. A message sent without the code word was assumed to be compromised. Powers wasn't worried that Riley might be encrypting the message under duress on this mission, but it was good training to always do it properly.
Powers set the message down on his desk as he popped another beer. He focused in on three letters: DIA. That had worried him from the beginning. He didn't trust anybody who ran around in a three-piece suit and called himself an agent instead of a soldier. Still, the message said they'd be home soon. That was good news. He took a deep chug and started working his bad knee. Pain was weakness leaving the body.
Colonel Lewis accessed the secure satellite communications net that his men had brought with them to contact General Trollers in Washington. He wasn't looking forward to the report he was going to have to make. He glared across the desk at Doctor Ward and Doctor Merrit. The two had been nothing but irritants since he'd gotten here. The local DIA representative, Freeman, was doing his best to appear inconspicuous. The transcript of the interrogation of the drugged woman found with the van and guard's body was lying in front of him.
The whole situation was a mess and Lewis knew that Trollers wasn't going to like it. Lewis was career army, West Point class of '73, and didn't like the positions in which he occasionally found himself because of his job. The West Point honor code had definitely taken a beating from the requirements of life in military intelligence. He'd long ago learned to come on as a hard-ass when starting out a mission because that way people complied more quickly. Except that technique didn't seem to be working well with the Special Forces men.
The speaker on the desk crackled. "Trollers here. Give me a situation report."
Lewis allowed himself the indulgence of a small sigh and then jumped into it, good news first to soften the blow. "I've got the lab swept clean, sir. The guard's body has been taken care of also. We're blaming it on the escapees. In fact, the woman we've got says that the guard was killed by one of the cons. The local cops have bought off on it. We've kept the other bodies secure so there won't be any inquiry into that. The locals think the convicts are still on the loose."
"What's the status on the Synbats?"
"We tracked them from where we found the collars to the shore of a lake. Apparently they used a log to float across the lake. I've got a helicopter with thermal imaging up right now searching for them."
"You mean they're still unsecure? How populated is this area they're loose in?"
"It's a park area called Land Between the Lakes, run by the Tennessee Valley Authority. The park is bounded on three sides by water and there are only four ways in by road. This time of year there's hardly anyone there. We're lucky in that regard. We couldn't have picked a better place for them to run to. Unpopulated, and — "
"Goddamnit, Lewis! Stop trying to make it sound so great."
Lewis took another deep breath. "Sir, I'd like to seal off the park. We can say we've discovered that some sensitive equipment was stolen by the escapees and we're helping the locals track them down."
The general's reply was brief and to the point. "Negative. Even with the cover story, we'll have the media up our ass to our eyeballs."
Lewis wasn't at all happy with that response. "Then, sir, I'm going to need more men for the search. I'd like to bring in some more troops from Fort Campbell. I've already got all the men from our Washington response team here."
"Negative. Goddamnit, Lewis, don't you understand? We've got to keep this under wraps. It's bad enough you got those soldiers involved. You keep those Special Forces men and you use them."
Lewis rubbed his forehead. He felt the beginnings of a massive headache forming like a thunderstorm in his forehead. "Sir, I really feel I need more men if I'm going to find them soon."
General Trollers snorted. "Let's not go overboard here, people. We're talking about some animals, for chrissake. This is a major fuckup, but we don't want to make it a world-class one by letting word get out about what Ward's doing in that lab. No one is going to miss those three escapees. The death of the security guard is unfortunate but had nothing to do with our project anyway. If this area is as unpopulated as you say it is, the odds are that the Synbats will never run into any people. You keep your search going and track them down. You've got a Special Forces A team and helicopters. That should be more than enough to get these things."
Lewis shook his head. He thought that Trollers was seriously underestimating the situation. The general hadn't even heard the worst of it yet. "Sir, there are two aspects to this I think you need to be aware of."
"What?"
Lewis shot a dirty look at Ward and then started. "It wasn't in any of the reports, but the last two generations of Synbats have been kept under control by the use of depressant drugs from infancy on up. The Synbats you saw on the videos for the demonstrations that Doctor Ward arranged were sedated. Apparently they were uncontrollable without the use of the drug. That drug will be out of their systems completely in four days. God knows what they'll be capable of doing when they're not sedated compared to what they've already done."
"Then we goddamn make sure they don't last four days" was Trollers's succinct reply.
Lewis sighed and moved on. "Sir, the Synbats also took the two backpacks that Doctor Ward had prepared for the fifth generation phase four test."
"So what? Your initial report said that. It also said that the backpacks would go bad outside of the controlled environment of the lab."