Mike was a missile analyst at the Defense Intelligence Agency, the DIA, working out of the headquarters on Bolling Air Force Base in Washington. He was a typical government bureaucrat, always keeping an eye on the clock and counting down the time until he could leave for the day. So many of the government employees were very talented, educated, and dedicated to the mission at DIA, but Mike broke the mold. He entered the facility at 6:00 a.m. sharp, walking like a zombie from the parking lot each morning, just staring at the ground, and never looked anyone in the eye. Before leaving each day for home at exactly 2:30 p.m., he always made sure to bring home the black lunch box his wife packed for him. Mike only put in the minimum effort for what was necessary to keep his job, sometimes doing what was asked, but never more. He gave other solid, hardworking government employees a bad name.
His last run-in with the deputy was inside the DIA auditorium when Mike and his team started to look into Chinese missiles a few months ago. The indications were detected by the Space Based Infrared System satellites, the SBIRS, which orbited the earth at some twenty-two thousand miles, watching from afar. SBIRS was used for missile defense and battle space awareness.
During the auditorium brief, analyst Mark Savona showed up uninvited and confronted Mike, leading to a nasty public argument. The deputy was forced to weigh in on the revolting confrontation and eventually told Mike to stop looking into the Chinese missile situation. A short week later, the deputy called Mike up to his office, shared that the Chinese event was highly classified, and gave him a personal gold and blue Deputy Director of DIA Challenge Coin to go away. Mike has it displayed on the fireplace mantle at home.
“Sir, we have more of your missiles over China,” Mike explained.
“Missiles? I don’t understand.”
Talking quickly, Mike continued. “Sir, last time we met in the auditorium, it was because the SBIRS team out of Buckley Air Force Base detected missiles over China — the infrared ones that the Air Force monitors. We… we thought it was maybe another Chinese ICBM test. You brought me up here and told me to stop looking into it. It was going to be compartmented, and I never heard or talked about it again. Until now.”
Calvin stood and stared at Klubb in disbelief. Calvin turned his head sideways in thought. “Really? Tell me more.”
More nervous, Mike pressed on as asked. “We detected, or rather Buckley detected, eighteen flashes between last Thursday and today. It looks like another large ICBM, but… nobody has figured it out. The signature that is. But I remember this specific signature. The computer doesn’t know it, but I do.”
Calvin turned his head sideways in thought. Squinted his eyes a bit, and kept staring.
Located at Buckley AFB and housed in a humongous Satellite Operations Center facility, was the US Air Force’s 460th Space Wing. The airmen from the wing controlled and watched the country’s SBIRS, as well as the older system, the Defense Support Program, known as DSP. The group of hundreds of service members in active, Reserve and Air National Guard units watched the earth, giving decision makers the information as it came in. Their clients could be intelligence community agencies, the Pentagon, Department of Homeland Security, the military Combatant Commanders, and even the National Security Council.
Using the best poker face he could scrounge up, Calvin turned to look at the wall, then back at Mike while biting his bottom lip. “Very interesting, Mike. Thank you. Perhaps, if it’s not too much trouble, could you send me what you have? Would that be all right? And, Mike, it doesn’t require your team, just you; quietly bring it up here or send it to me on secure email. I’d be interested in seeing what you’ve got,” asked the deputy. What did this guy see?
Mike instantly turned into a frenzy of activity, without ever moving from his original standing position. Talking even faster, he answered, “Oh, right away, sir. I’ve got everything. Everything from last week and from last night. I was having my morning hot chocolate that my wife makes for me every morning and, I…”
“Mike. Mike. Terrific. Take it easy,” the deputy told him, moving his palms in a downward motion to keep him calm. “Just bring it on up. Yes? Good?”
“Yes, yes, sir. Will be right back. Thank you, Deputy Burns,” Mike answered, as he massaged his hands together into a sweaty ball. Klubb turned around and banged his shin on the glass coffee table, backed up awkwardly, and left the room.
Deputy Burns could not believe what he just heard. He walked over to his couch and sat down, placing his forearms like he was sitting on the toilet. Leaning back, he stared out into the air for a few long seconds. He let out a sigh. I’m retiring in a month, he said to himself.
“Jason!”
Jason came hurriedly into the office. “Yes?”
“Get Mark Savona’s ass up here ASAP. I don’t care where he is on this earth; he needs to get his butt in here. We got issues. ASAP.”
Jason took off on his mission to find Mark Savona from the Chinese Aircraft Directorate, while Calvin leaned over on his couch and placed his face into his hands. He rubbed his nose and eyes after taking off his glasses. Calvin stood up and folded his arms to think, reflecting that he thought he had seen everything in his intelligence officer career, from the Cold War to Gulf War I to Iraq and Afghanistan. Now this.
Even stealing the Chinese stealth bomber Devil Dragon from a few months ago was a career highlight. Just this past Tuesday, DIA and the US Navy had just finished the crane operation at Graham Island, Canada, about a thousand miles northwest of Vancouver. Devil Dragon was drained of the few last drops of fuel remaining, sawed and weld cut into specific pieces, packed in large nondescript crates, and loaded onto a commercial ship from the island to the mainland. Devil Dragon was then hauled via tractor trailer to Tonopah, Nevada. This latest news, though, topped everything for him. Burns was nearly speechless, bordering on shock.
Christ almighty… I just can’t believe this. A month before retirement. The goddamn Chinese had two stealth bombers built. We stole one… and now they’re test flying the other.
PART 1
CALLING
DIA Analyst Mark Savona didn’t have a problem in the world since setting sail on a Royal Caribbean cruise ship to the Bahamas. He and girlfriend, Jeanie Heller, were enjoying their third day at sea onboard the cruise ship Majesty of the Seas, taking in the sun and drinking the days and nights away.
Jeanie, who was one of the wildest girlfriends Mark ever had, was sporting a black string bikini and moved gracefully to the live Jimmy Buffet — themed band. Never at a loss for a drink, she sipped her red-colored Bahama Mama drink on the pool deck with a cute, youthful smile. Mark was already on his fourth drink, bare chested, and sporting a purple plaid swimsuit with flip-flops. Showing his forty-year-old body with love handles, Mark ran his hands through his long brown wet hair, slicked back from a dip in the swimming pool. He glanced around the pool deck behind mirrored sunglasses, giving a toothy grin, and wearing a freshly trimmed goatee.
Displaying a glowing tan and long, wet blond hair, Jeanie was receiving more than her share of glances from men on the ship. Only about 115 pounds, she was a pretty little thing, and it did not take much alcohol for her to dance like a wild lady onboard the ship.
“Mark, that ship announcement was for you, baby,” rubbing her hand on his hairy chest.
“No one even knows we are down in the islands, sugar. We’re just out here, away from that rat race. No problems.”