“We don’t know yet,” Tombstone said offhandedly, being careful not to let his face reflects his thoughts. Tombstone took his nickname from the impassive expression normally on his face.
“Then why are we all here?” Bratton said easily, indicating that he thought it was a waste of time until there was an actual mission.
“Best to iron things out before we have a specific mission,” Greenfield observed gruffly. “Once the shooting starts, there’s no time for chain-of-command concerns.” He shot Tombstone a dark look. “Speaking of chain of command — what is it?”
And there it was, right out on the table. No need to wonder where Greenfield stood on any issue. Tombstone found his admiration for the man deepening.
“Yes, do tell,” Bratton said. The local man from the sheriff’s department and the tribal police officer shared a dark look in the back.
“That’s one of the concerns,” Tombstone admitted.
“Posse commitatus,” Greenfield said.
“Exactly. For right now, we’re operating under the exception that allows military forces to coordinate training exercises and participate in dual disaster-relief exercises.” Tombstone saw the cynical look on Greenfield’s face and nodded. “I know. Exactly my position as well. But my information is that we’re going to see some more direct guidance coming down from the White House in the next couple of days. It’ll be his call as to how the chain of command works.”
“His call as Commander in Chief? Or as Chief Executive?” Greenfield asked.
“Or as head of a sovereign nation?” Horse Looking paused, making his point clear. “If they cross into our lands, that becomes an issue, too.”
“Will your nation require a formal declaration of war?” Bratton asked in a mocking tone of voice. “Surely you’re not going to confuse the issue further with this sort of nonsense.”
“If you plan on simply invading as your people did originally, perhaps we should. CIA, FBI — you are so fond of initials. We will not have the issue of Indian sovereignty simply treated as dispensable when you find it convenient.”
“As soon as your people are self-supporting in some way besides gambling, you may be entitled to—”
“Gentlemen!” Tombstone snapped, cutting them off. “Enough of that. Officer Horse Looking, you have a point. I will depend on you to alert me to any potential issues. For the rest of you, as soon as I get any word, I’ll pass it on. For now, since we do have authorization to conduct training exercises, we will stay off Indian lands. As far as our approach, I want to run this as if it was a military operation, but it’s strictly a civilian one.”
“But you’re not military,” Bratton observed. “And that makes it a bit awkward, doesn’t it?”
“I am retired, as is my uncle,” Tombstone acknowledged. “But we’re both members of the Fleet Reserve, and there is at least an argument that we would still be considered military forces. Right now, though, we’re here as representatives of Advanced Analysis to coordinate operations.”
“I’d like to see the precedent for that,” Greenfield said.
“There is none that I can think of, except perhaps in contracting federal prison security to outside organizations. But,” Tombstone continued, “there’s not much precedent for what were facing now, is there?”
That brought a hush to the room. None of them would ever forget where they had been on that day in September when cowardly terrorism had sent aircraft crashing into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.
“So,” Tombstone continued after a moment, “I’d ask you to cut me a little slack on the question of chain of command. For now, you can consider me the team leader, or officer in charge, or commanding officer, or whatever term you used to describe the person in charge. It may be that the President will decide that the FBI is better suited to control the operation.”
“Not likely,” someone said quietly in the back of the room. Greenfield’s face turned red, but he had no comment.
Tombstone debated on whether or not to let the comment pass, then decided to tackle the issue head-on. “The first thing I’ll require here is that you all put aside any previous interagency rivalries. We all know what happened at Bull Run, and I see no point in harping on it other than to review any operational lessons we may glean from it. It did not go well — understatement, right? Haven’t all of you had an operation turned into a real clusterfuck right under your noses? I know I have.” And in one of those I lost my wife. “So, I don’t want to hear any cheap shots.” He let that sink in, and then turned to Greenfield. “You and I don’t know each other very well yet, although I suspect that will change over the next few weeks. At some point in the very near future, I’ll expect a thorough and brutal rundown on what happened. My guess is you got shoved into moving before you wanted to move, probably based on pretty crappy intelligence. I’m not going to ask you to make excuses for what happened, but I do expect everybody to learn something from it. That okay with you?”
“Yeah.” Greenfield was staring off in the distance somewhere, as though he was seeing Bull Run go down again. “And thanks for the sensitivity training, but I’d bet my ass that there’s not a man in here who could say anything worse than what I’ve said to myself.”
“Well, then.” Tombstone turned back to the rest of the room. “We’ll make up the following departments, I think. Administration, operations, intelligence, and logistics. If we need any other departments, we’ll put them together as required. For now that ought to get us started.”
“Any word on the first target?” Bratton asked again.
“No. Like I said, as soon as I hear something.”
The men and women assembled soon sorted themselves out into four major groups, each one determining who was the senior person present and starting a list of requirements. Tombstone watched, fielded questions as they came to him, and was not surprised when Bratton eventually ambled over to him with a quizzical look on his face. “If you’re going to run this as a military organization, then you’re going to need an executive officer. Who’ve you got in mind?”
“You volunteering?” Tombstone asked.
Bratton smiled slightly. “Of course not, Admiral,” he said, stressing the last word ever so slightly. “We’re prohibited from assuming any direct command of operations inside the United States. Just like the military is.”
Tombstone nodded, acknowledging the contradiction. “Things change. Like I said — you volunteering?”
Bratton held his gaze steadily, letting the pleasant, supercilious expression drop from his face. Tombstone, for the first time, saw the steel underneath the polished surface. This man had actual operational experience in many places that Tombstone was familiar with, and on some level he could sense that a lot of it had been more close-in and dirty than Tombstone had ever seen. “I could, I suppose,” Bratton said finally. “But let’s face it — you know I’m not used operating in this theater. Greenfield is.” He nodded toward the FBI agent, immersed in setting up the operations department. “He’ll be good for you there. And he’s the only one who really has much experience inside the United States. Not to mention at Bull Run.”
“Well, now that’s impressive,” Tombstone said. He didn’t elaborate — he didn’t have to. “I’ll take your advice under consideration, Mr. Bratton. And I appreciate your insight. Let’s just leave the matter open for now, how about it?”
The supercilious expression was back on Bratton’s face. “You’re the boss,” he said in a good-natured voice. “Just thought I’d bring it up.”