Trevor scratched his ear. “Speaking of plans, President Liu did manage to pass me a message for you, through her chief of staff.”
“Which was?”
Trevor handed over a slip of plain white paper. Written in Liu’s flowing hand, Downing saw:
• Case Leo Gap
• Case Vernal Rains
• Case IfUC1
• Case Timber Pony
All Cases approved for final phase activation.
See me ASAP.
It was the message Richard had been waiting for. And the message which determined what he had to do next. After sharing its contents, he explained. “It is fortuitous that you are all here, because this message clears the path for us, and IRIS, to make a tangible contribution to the defense of Earth. It’s a small operation, and difficult, but potentially decisive.”
Trevor leaned back. “What’s the objective?”
“Disable the Arat Kur’s planetside command, control, and computing net for several crucial minutes.”
Opal stared. “And how are we supposed to do that?”
“By infiltrating a strike team directly into their headquarters and neutralizing it.”
“Uncle Richard,” said a slightly pale Trevor, “with all due respect, I don’t see how we—how IRIS—can carry out such a purely military operation. You’re talking about a plan involving hundreds of bombs and probably thousands of spec ops troops with a shared death-wish.”
“No. It will involve about a dozen diplomatic passes and an equal number of covert operatives, posing as Earth’s armistice negotiation team and its support staff.”
Trevor shook his head. “But there’s not going to be any negotiation. First Consul Ching is about to do what he’s already become famous for: making no response.”
“Yes, and that will nicely pave the way for this plan’s success.”
“You’ve lost me.”
Downing folded his hands. “Through you, Trevor, the Arat Kur sent us new peace terms. We have remained silent. What will they do when, in five hours, their fifty-hour response deadline runs out?”
“Try to force an answer out of us.”
“And how will they do that?”
Elena saw it first. “They’re going to tighten the screws, show us that we cannot ignore them.”
“Precisely.” Yes, Elena certainly has her father’s quick wits. And she has his courage, too, given the bandits she had to face down during her anthropology field work. “And so, when the consequent cries of global misery begin to hit the bloc leadership, the Confederation will be forced to act, to give in and resume talks.”
Trevor saw it now. “So, only because the Arat Kur themselves force us to do so, we will send a negotiation team. And because we resisted doing so until they left us no choice, they will not suspect that they are actually giving us the opportunity we most want: to be summoned—with our tail apparently between our legs—to their seat of power in Indonesia.” He nodded. “Pretty shrewd, but how do you arm the infiltration team? Even if the Arat Kur don’t detect them as impostors, no one’s going to let our strikers traipse into Jakarta with golf bags full of combat gear.”
“Of course not. That’s why operational caches are already prepositioned there. Have been, for some time.”
Trevor frowned. “How could you know that they’d invade Indonesia and where they’d set up their HQ in Jakarta?”
“We had strong suspicions they’d go after Indonesia because of its isolation and because of the mass driver. And once our operatives sparked the protests that demolished the terminals and hotels at Soekarno Airport right after the invaders’ first initial landings—”
Opal’s eyes were wide. “We did that?”
“—then the Arat Kur had to consolidate their command elements in Jakarta itself. That in turn left them with a fairly limited number of options. Which meant they needed a large defensible compound with good C4I facilities that they could upgrade. Again, not a long list of options. We concealed equipment caches in all the probable sites. We also made sure that when Ruap’s government started recruiting locals for the mundane housekeeping tasks—sanitation, food delivery, basic maintenance—that we had some highly motivated sympathetics in the mix.”
“So when our strike team arrives in their guise as negotiators, their gear is already waiting for them on-site.”
“Correct, and there will be diversions and distractions timed to allow them to get access to it.”
Trevor nodded. “Sounds like a plan. In fact, it sounds like the kind of scheme that Caine would come up with, if he was here.”
Downing’s smile was a bit sad. “Oh, it was his plan, all right.”
“What?” said Trevor. “But for the past half year, he’s been—”
“This goes back beyond half a year, Trev.” Downing was careful not to look at Elena as he explained. “This goes all the way back to when we first awakened Caine in 2118, even before we code-named him Odysseus.” Downing pushed a virtual button on his palmcomp and the main screen snapped to life again.
It showed Caine splicing wires in one of his initial training exercises. He didn’t look up as he spoke. “If these aliens intend to rule us rather than exterminate us, they’ll want to avoid a ‘final solution.’ So you dangle the prospect of capitulation—or even collaboration—under their noses while preparing to strike at them.”
Downing’s recorded voice—coming from very close to the camera—countered with, “And with their superior technology, how do you propose to get close enough to strike at them?”
Caine glanced up. “By getting—or prepositioning—forces inside their beachhead. And don’t give me that doubting-Thomas look: there are always methods of infiltrating forces through ‘secure perimeters’ or ‘impassable’ borders. Even the old ploy of the Trojan Horse still has some merit; it just needs some clever updating.”
Downing turned off the flatscreen and glanced at Trevor. “That casual brainstorming session led your father to do exactly what Caine suggested: update the Trojan Horse ploy. Have the enemy themselves bring our strike team inside their HQ. That was the basis of the operation Nolan labeled Case Timber Pony, for which President Liu just gave the final green light.” Downing waved the slip of paper. “It is also the lynchpin of our strategy to take back control of the planetside situation. Without their dirtside C4I net, the Arat Kur will not be able to call for or coordinate orbital supporting fire. And by the time they get that control back, some of our best forces will be in among them and, therefore, untouchable by their standoff assets.”
Trevor was still staring at the blank screen. “And who are the negotiators you’re sending into this lion’s den?”
“It must be a mixed team. Some will be genuine government officials who happen to have combat backgrounds. There will be an equal number of tier one and tier two operators—Delta, Seals, SAS, Special Forces—who have enough of a background in political and foreign affairs that they can make convincing noises as diplomatic support staff for a day or two. And we’ll need at least one operator who is personally known to the Arat Kur, and whose participation will reassure them, beyond reasonable doubt, that the delegation is legitimate.”