to DeLaine, searching her eyes for any sign of weakness or sorrow for Lemke’s fate—and not finding any. He smiled at that realization. “It doesn’t matter. Within a week, all of you will be at your new base, setting up your new unit.” He kept his gaze fixed on Kelsey DeLaine’s green eyes. “You and the lovely Special Agent DeLaine are going to be the cocommanders of Task Force TALON, Major Richter. You are going to employ CID and any other high-tech gizmos you can devise to hunt down the perpetrators of the attack on Kingman City and any other terrorists around the world that threaten America.”
He turned to Sergeant Major Jefferson. “The sergeant major has already procured a base of operations for you in New Mexico. The commanding general at Fort Polk has been advised to give you all the manpower and support you need. I want you set up as soon as possible. You will use all your skills, expertise, and training, plus an extra helping of guts and audacity, to hunt down the terrorists that attacked Kingman City and bring them to justice—or destroy them. Either works for me.
“Now I know that this is not the typical chain of command, being organized and run by an NCO, but Command Sergeant Major Jefferson is the most experienced person I know to train and organize this task force,” Chamberlain went on. “I warn you not to get in his way—I’ve seen the man eat two-star generals for breakfast. You will treat him as you would myself at all times, is that clear?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Sergeant Major Jefferson.”
“Sir!”
“Take charge of Task Force TALON immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Chamberlain walked away to his limousine without saying another word to anyone, leaving Jason and Kelsey alone with Jefferson and the CID unit. “Agent DeLaine, Major Richter, Dr. Vega, listen up,” he began. “Time is critical now. Our objective is to organize and set up a base of operations to train and support TALON’s weapon systems, collect and analyze intelligence data, and begin to conduct antiterrorist operations. Within three days we need to be in place, and within ten days we need to be set up and operating.
“I have already sent a forward field deployment team to our base of operations to help get set up,” Jefferson went on. “In fact, they have been working since yesterday. They’re not familiar with FBI procedures or the CID technology, so you need to bring them up to speed as soon as possible. That means getting your supplies out to New Mexico right away.” He handed them both cellular telephones. “Speed-dial zero-zero-one for me, ask, and I’ll get it for you. You already have transports and men to help you move. Agent DeLaine, a cargo aircraft will be here at Andrews ready to take you and your gear tomorrow. Major, the plane will arrive at Alexandria ready to take your gear the day after. Be on it. Questions?”
“What ‘gear’ do we take, Sergeant?” Jason asked.
Jefferson’s eyes widened in anger, and he stepped up to Jason and stood nose to nose with him. They were of just about equal height, but Jefferson’s sheer physical presence suddenly made Jason feel very small. “Major Richter, sir,” he said between clenched teeth, “I realize you are an officer, but it appears it is necessary for me to teach you something you should already know. I am not a sergeant, I am a sergeant major. That is something recruits learn within days of starting basic training. I hope it doesn’t take you as long to learn it.” He glared once more at Richter, then went on to all of them: “Bring everything remotely connected to CID or to any of the other devices you’ve set up in this warehouse,” he said. “You can take your whole lab if it’ll fit in a C-130 Hercules. Our priority will be deploying and utilizing the CID units in the field in the quickest amount of time. I understand you have two prototypes—bring both of them. Bring as many parts and partial prototypes as you can as well.”
“How do we know who or what to bring?” Kelsey asked.
“Bring everything you can get packed and ready in two days—we’ll sort it out when we get to Clovis,” Jefferson said. “The critical stuff needs to go on the plane; other things can be shipped by truck if necessary.”
“Clovis?”
“New Mexico. Cannon Air Force Base. Your new home for a while.” He detected that they were trying to think of anything they needed to ask, and the tall Marine was determined not to give them the opportunity. “That’ll be all, folks. Be at Cannon in three days, or I will come back and make life exceedingly unpleasant for you.”
He then looked directly at Jason and, addressing them all, “One more thing: in my unit, you will conform to all military discipline, dress, and appearance standards—clean shaven, clean uniform, and most important, you will conduct yourself in a professional military manner at all times, and that means inside your toy there as well as outside of it. We are not in your world now, sir—you’re in mine. Questions?”
“Just a comment, Sergeant Major.”
“What is it?”
“It would’ve been helpful if I was briefed on what you intended to do here, Sergeant Major,” Jason said. “If I had known that you were thinking about using the CID system to form an operational unit…”
“Major, I report to the National Security Adviser, and he reports only to the President of the United States and Congress, not to you,” Jefferson said. “He doesn’t need to ask you ‘pretty please’ before he decides to do something. He confers with the President, gets the go-ahead, and acts. That’s his job. I expect you to shut up and do yours, sir. Clear?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“That’s Sergeant Major, sir—don’t make me remind you again. Anything else for me, sir?”
“No, Sergeant Major.”
“Then may I strongly suggest you get a damned haircut and don’t let me see you in a dirty uniform again, sir. Now move out.”
Sergeant Major Jefferson departed immediately, leaving Jason, Ari, and Kelsey together alone with the CID unit. “Wow, dude,” Ari said to Jason. “You’re in the FBI, man. You’re a G-man. Awesome.”
“You are not in the FBI any more than I’m in the freakin’ army,” Kelsey said sternly. She opened the new cellular phone and dialed. “As far as I’m concerned, this is an FBI operation—you two and your gizmos are support, nothing more. The key to the success of our unit is intelligence, not how fast or how high this thing can go.” She said something on the phone, then turned back to Richter and Vega distractedly. “Listen, I have a lot of work to do, and so do you. I think it would be a good idea to pack up the robot here and start heading back to wherever Fort Polk is…”
“Louisiana.”
“…and be prepared to teach my staff all about CID here. But I don’t anticipate we’ll be using it right away.”
“Why not?” Jason asked. “You still prefer to go up against the bad guys with just your little pistol there?”
“The key to a successful investigation, Major, is information—timely, accurate intelligence data, carefully analyzed and strategized,” she responded. “We decide exactly what level of support we need once we’ve studied the suspects and determined their size, strength, composition, and…”
“That’s easy, Special Agent DeLaine—they’re bad guys, not suspects, and they got their hands on a nuclear device,” Jason said. “If we find them, we should go in and shut them down. CID was developed to do that with speed and power. What else is there to do?”
“Folks, I don’t have time to teach you every aspect of a successful investigation while we’re standing here,” Kelsey said impatiently. “I have lots of work to do, and so do you. I’ll meet up with you in New Mexico. Good-bye.” She turned her attention to the cellular phone, dismissing them.
“Wave bye-bye to the nice FBI agent, El Cid,” Jason said. The robot turned toward Kelsey and waved a massive mechanical right hand. Kelsey ignored it. Jason whispered something else to the robot, and it raised its arms and shook its hips in her direction. That she couldn’t ignore. She rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation and headed for the exit.
Ari gave the command to retire, and the robot folded itself up so she and Jason could pick it up and stow it in the back of the Humvee. “How soon can you break down the lab and get it ready to move, Ari?” Jason asked.
“No sweat, J,” Vega responded. “My boyfriend broke up with me, so I got nothin’ better to do than work in the lab. This is just freaky, dude, freaky. We’re going to be this top-secret bad-guy hunting posse. Awesome!”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe what, man? You think we’re being scammed or somethin’?”
Jason went into the cab of the Humvee and punched instructions into a small palm-sized computer. Moments later several unusual-looking devices appeared: two large devices that looked like giant cat-sized cockroaches crawled down the walls of the warehouse and over to them; and a trash can–sized device with a ducted fan propulsion system, mechanical arms, and a large telescopic sensor underneath slowly flew over. “I don’t think we’re
