When Drake neared the depot, he saw the perimeter had a fence topped with barbed wire. There was a second, inner fence topped with razor wire.
“You ever have anybody try to get through your fences?” Drake asked the driver.
The driver, a National Guardsman in his twenties, answered with a snort, “Yeah, couple of drunk assholes tried it on a dare last year. They didn’t make it to the inner fence before the reaction team got there. Our electronic surveillance is the best in the world. No one’s going to breach our perimeter, sir.”
From the looks of the fences and the surveillance devices he could see spaced along the inner fence, he had to agree. If you were going to gain access to the depot, you weren’t going to do it by crashing through the perimeter fences.
At the main gate, security guards carefully checked his ID, even though he was escorted by the Commander’s driver. In the distance, an armed patrol moved along the inside of the perimeter fencing.
“You use perimeter patrols all the time, or just for the ceremony tomorrow?”
“Twenty-four seven, sir, twenty-four seven,” the driver answered, as he drove on to the cluster of buildings that housed the Commander and his staff.
A guard at the front door of the depot headquarters checked his ID again before escorting him to the Commander’s office. They walked down a hallway with a highly polished floor and photos of the depot’s operations on the walls.
Lt. Col. Hollingsworth was younger than expected. He was short, maybe five foot nine or so, a fireplug that probably led his men in calisthenics.
The commander stood behind his desk and watched Drake with a polite smile as he entered the room. He was used to dealing with politicians. Now he was being asked to answer to some security person for a guest speaker he’d already gone out of his way to protect.
“Colonel Hollingsworth, I’m Adam Drake. Thank you for making time to see me and go over the arrangements for tomorrow, on behalf of Senator Hazelton.”
“Mr. Drake, I took the liberty of calling the Pentagon to make sure the Senator had a son-in-law. I learned you were Special Forces. Your record is a little skimpy, though. That suggests several things to me. Would you mind telling me why you’re here?”
Drake smiled and said, “Colonel, you’re a careful man. I was Special Forces, and I am Senator Hazelton’s son-in-law. I’m also an attorney. I help the Senator from time to time.”
“That doesn’t tell me why you’re here, does it? But if the Senator is worried, I’m sure your trained eye will spot something my staff may have missed.”
The twinkle and challenge in the Commander’s eyes said, as clearly as anything, take a look, you won’t find anything even if you were Special Forces.
Commander Hollingsworth called his aide into his office, introduced her to Drake and then dismissed them both. His aide, Capt. Martinez, had short black hair, beautiful brown eyes and wore a uniform that sported airborne wings. She didn’t waste any time letting him know she was efficient, and more than qualified to serve as the Commander’s aide.
“Commander Hollingsworth told me you’re interested in our security arrangements for tomorrow. This depot covers a rectangular area of nineteen thousand, seven hundred and twenty-eight acres. There are two outer fences and roving security patrols. Two hundred reservists augment our civilian security force, and all of them are armed. Surveillance cameras monitor K Block, where the chemical weapons are stored in bunkers that have detectors for leakage and security breaches. This is a secure facility, Mr. Drake. I’m not sure what it is you want to see,” Capt. Martinez said stiffly, as they walked toward the Commander’s Humvee.
“Relax, Captain. I’m just here to see that the Senator is in good hands tomorrow. The curiosity is my own-call it professional interest. Where do your reservists come from?”
“The current rotation of reservists is from the Texas National Guard. They’re here for one year. They’ve been through the Army’s Special Reaction Training for this type of facility, and they’re good people.”
“I’m sure they are, Captain. What about your civilian security force? Do you hire and screen them, or does someone do that for you?”
Capt. Martinez looked away and briefly glanced down at her boots before she answered. Her right hand rested on the passenger door of the Humvee she was about to open for him.
“We screen and hire them ourselves. We only hire people with prior security training, mostly from the military, but some from the private sector. Not all of them have Special Reaction Training, if that’s what you’re asking. We run enough drills to make sure they know what they’re supposed to be doing. This isn’t everyone’s dream job, but we do get good people.”
“There’s not a lot to do out here, are there any problems here at the depot?”
“Not more than usual. You know what it’s like on an Army base. Most of the personnel who live here are young. We’ve had some fights in town. Some of the local citizenry don’t like us much. I don’t blame them. These weapons are pretty scary. We had some problems, when the incinerator was being built, with the construction workers. We’ve had bomb threats, because someone thought we were covering up nerve agent leaks that made them sick. But other than some minor drug use, we haven’t had any significant problems.”
Drake wanted to smile at the way she minimized the problems the depot had experienced. He knew, from news reports, there had been attempts to sneak into K Block. A lab worker had walked off with a vial of nerve agent by accident, causing a panic until the man was found. And, a security guard shot himself during a simulated attack on the depot.
“Tell me about your emergency planning and training,” he said.
“Mr. Drake, I understand you were in the Army. What unexpected threat do you think we haven’t trained for? There’s a no-fly zone here. We train for someone trying to crash a plane into one of the igloos in K Block to cause a nerve gas leak. We train for coordinated attacks at multiple perimeter sites, truck bombs crashing the gates, you name it. Training is what the Army does best.”
Drake knew she wasn’t angry yet, but she was getting close.
“Captain, I’m not here to give you a bad time. I just need to confirm arrangements, so I don’t get in your way tomorrow. Maybe you could show me around the depot and review your plans for tomorrow. I’ll be out of here before you miss me.”
The tight smile on her face said there was no way in hell she would miss him.
After they were seated in the Humvee and driving slowly on the depot’s main road, Capt. Martinez began her review of the arrangements for tomorrow.
“The dedication of the incinerator is scheduled for ten hundred hours. There are three hundred guests and dignitaries invited, your father-in-law included. They have all been screened for us by the Secret Service. No one will be allowed to enter the depot after oh-nine-thirty hours. We’ve doubled the security patrols around the perimeter of the depot. The airspace is already restricted. The Oregon State Police, the Hermiston County Sheriff and the Hermiston Police Department will be on alert. Additionally, the Oregon National Guard unit in Pendelton will have their rapid response team on standby. The State of Oregon, as you probably know, developed our emergency disaster plan. It’s as comprehensive as it gets. I think we’ve got things covered here.”
They were driving by the storage igloos in K Block as Capt. Martinez concluded her briefing. Row after row of earth-covered cement and steel storage units housing the chemical weapons stretched away into the brown and barren distance.
“Who has access to this area?” Drake asked.
“Security staff patrol the area and civilian lab personnel monitor the igloos for leakage. No one else gets in here,” she said.
“What happens if you have an accident here in K Block? What does the emergency plan call for then?”
Capt. Martinez stopped abruptly, next to the entrance of an igloo and turned to face him. “If there’s an accident, Mr. Drake, sirens go on all over the depot. Personnel in the command structure, responsible for responding to an emergency, immediately go to the depot’s emergency operations center. There are cameras installed all around K Block so command personnel can watch personnel responding. Visitors are taken to the emergency center, where they can be protected from any chemical weapon exposure. Our response teams deal with that exposure. Then, the emergency operations center determines the potential exposure to the surrounding communities. The depot’s medical staff prepares to deal with decontamination and treating any victims,” she said, slamming the Humvee into gear. “If you need more information, take it up with Colonel Hollingsworth.”
