Chris also looked into another software program before hitting send. Checking an antenna system that scanned the horizon westbound, he collected electronic signatures and emissions for analysis. This antenna system detected the distinctive signatures of electronic emissions, such as smartphones and cell phones and wearable fitness trackers, which would normally be an average find to DIA.
Today, though, these were no ordinary cell phones and fitness trackers, as the ones he found were detected up in the air — airborne. If it were a passenger aircraft, he’d have a whole multitude of fitness trackers, giving away that it was a commercial jet. This Bluetooth electronic hit only had two fitness tracker detections.
I remember Mark Savona talking about this with Wu Lee, he silently said to himself. Strange.
Wearable devices, like smart watches and fitness trackers, emit Bluetooth electronic signals to constantly chat with smartphones, passing information back and forth. Sometimes that data is encrypted so hackers cannot listen in, but DIA could. Not only could DIA analysts comprehend the communications between the two devices, DIA could detect the MAC, or media access control, address. This MAC is the unique pattern with which the device communicates, and DIA was able to track and follow someone as he or she moved from place to place.
Chris, a former Marine, was heavily involved in recently helping Chinese Air Force Captain Wu Lee with stealing Devil Dragon and putting her into the hands of the United States. Before Lee passed of cancer, he helped deliver one of the most advanced stealth bombers the world had ever seen to America. But Chris’s experience level was remarkable for someone in his early forties, and he took great pride in being referred to as one of the Three Horsemen as the Consulate. The other two Horsemen were the CIA officer present in China, and the legal attaché FBI Special Agent.
These acoustical sounds are somewhat familiar. They are so similar… could it be? he thought, as he hit send on the email.
Air Force Reserve Captain Ford Stevens, acting as the Big Kahuna, walked around the table as the music lowered, and he took his seat in a high-backed, fancy, brown wooden chair. The chair had intricate carvings and designs at the top, which reached about five feet in height. The gold seat cushion had elaborate fabric glued to the edges, as well as a few feet of shiny rope, making it look over-the-top gaudy. The lieutenants had decorated it to look like a throne, and it was apparent a lot of thought and time went into this elegant-looking chair.
Ford opened a sophisticated scroll that opened up from the bottom and top, expanding it vertically in front of him. He looked down at the names of call signs previously provided by the squadron pilots. Some on the list were absolutely hystericaclass="underline" “Spot” was because one pilot had a deep scar on his cheek, “Sarge” was nominated to be Sarge because he was a prior federal law enforcement sergeant, and this year they had a “Mumbles” because a young lieutenant seemed to talk in a strange foreign language when he drank. Of course, Ford was in full theatrical mode, holding the scroll like he was a Supreme Court justice. He glanced around the scroll to look at the victims who needed call signs and laughed out loud.
One of the bogus “Secret Service agents” stood up and talked into his wrist, while placing his other hand on his earpiece. More laughing came from the crowd. It definitely looked like a joke, but the agent leaned over to Ford and said something into his ear. Ford’s smile went to a frown rapidly.
“Seems we have a problem before the party can even get started. Sorry, guys. The Rapid City Police Department is here to shut us down for being too loud. They have received some complaints from out in the neighborhood,” explained the Big Kahuna, while holding the silver microphone.
Just as he finished making the announcement, two uniformed police officers came into the room, to the shouting and booing of the crowd. The aircrew were visibly disappointed and mad and could not believe this was happening. The ceremony had just started, and the new pilots never had a chance to be awarded their call signs. The pilots didn’t throw anything directly at the police, but they sure came close to hitting them.
“Hello, officers,” Ford said, addressing the two police officers using the microphone.
The pretty female officer leaned over to the microphone in Ford’s hand. “Are you Ford Stevens?” she asked.
Ford saw her long red fingernails, but was shocked she knew him by sight. How does this cop know my name?
She rapidly took the microphone out of his hands, and asked in a sexy voice for the whole room to hear. “Are you the… Ford Stevens… that is getting engaged soon? Come here, big boy!” The room was in an uproar now, with the guys yelling at the top of their lungs.
One of the lieutenants pressed play on his phone again, and industrial dance music blared over the VFW hall speakers. Three elderly World War II vets peeked into the banquet hall from the kitchen now, smiling from ear to ear.
Being the informal leader of the squadron was as informal as it got, but it was indeed a powerful position. Although military command and control was in full force from a formality structure, the captains and lieutenants ran the day-to-day operations of the unit. Informally, they could elevate someone who needed help, assist a promotion for someone by providing opportunities, or ground a pilot from flying because of something negative they were doing inside or outside the cockpit. The brotherhood was strong and powerful, and the Big Kahuna ran the squadron.
“These are no regular cops,” Ford said laughing, figuring out what was about to happen.
Impersonating a police officer, the female entertainer began her hired dance for Ford. The other costumed police officer stepped aside and let the female cop do her thing. The lieutenants in the squadron had struck at Ford first before he could get them with their call signs.
Score: lieutenants,1; captains, 0.
Ford Stevens, thirty-one years old, was no longer hungover from the night before, but he sure was tired from the party. His drinking these days seemed to increase instead of decrease, but it did not affect his flying or his job.
“I want to come right a bit, copilot. Check that I’m clear,” asked Ford from the left seat of his B-1B Lancer, also known among aviation enthusiasts as the B-ONE, OR BONE.
“Yeah, you’re clear; come right,” replied copilot Pinky Pinkerton, as she looked out the right window.
Ford and his crew were flying a low-level training route through the mountains and valleys of southern Idaho near Mountain Home Air Force Base. Although Ford was from the 28th Bomb Wing in South Dakota, it was a routine mission to practice conventional air-to-ground flying missions just a few states to the west.
Handsome, experienced, witty, and one of the best pilots the Air Force Reserve had, Ford was an exceptional officer and pilot. He was a full-time Air Force Reservist working in an active-duty squadron, making this his full-time job. After World War II, President Truman formed the Air Force Reserve military organization. Today, Air Force Reserve flies about 20 percent of the regular Air Force’s work — not only the traditional flying that most Americans think of, but space and cyber, too. After the University of Notre Dame and Air Force ROTC, Ford started out as a second lieutenant in the air force and later was able to transfer to the Air Force Reserve team.
Air Force Reserve was looking beyond the traditional C-130 and A-10 roles from years past, and entering the heavy bomber business. With eyes on the new Air Force B-21 Raider stealth bomber coming to inventory, Air Force Reserve wanted a piece of the action. The current relationship that Ford was part of with his B-1 unit was no coincidence, as the Air Force Reserve was looking for the mission to stay for the long term. Not only was Air Force Reserve involved with the BONE and B-52 associations at places like Dyess Air Force Base, they were also part of cyber-warfare, intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance missions. The Reserves were also tackling new airframes, such as the F-22 Raptor, F-35 Lighting II, and KC-46 Pegasus. The manpower, experience, and ability to train faster than the active-component air force were special to the Reserve Force.