impressed by CID, but we’d be wasting too much time learning how to use it and then learning how to employ it in the field. We’ve got the basic setup already drawn up and ready to go—no sense in reinventing the wheel here.”
“If it’s so logical, why do you think Sergeant Major Jefferson or Chamberlain didn’t already have a platoon out here waiting for us?”
“That’s argumentative, Major, and not very constructive,” Kelsey said pointedly. “Any other objections?”
“What are Ari and I supposed to do while you guys are out playing army?”
“Major Richter, I expected a lot more cooperation and contribution and a lot less attitude from you,” Kelsey said. “National Security Adviser Chamberlain invited you here because he was obviously impressed by CID and thought it could make a contribution. I think it’s up to you to find out how best to utilize your technology. But we’ve decided that a basic infantry platoon is the best organizational unit to start with. Once the task force is set up and running, we’ll be looking to you to let us know how we can integrate CID with it, most likely in a support role. In the meantime, I think you could be extremely helpful in setting up and organizing the command and support elements.”
That was a not-too-subtle blow-off, Jason decided, but he wasn’t going to protest—besides, it was the answer he was hoping for. He nodded, and he and Ari took their seats and remained mostly quiet for the rest of the meeting.
Jason soon had to grudgingly admit that Kelsey DeLaine was a good organizer and an effective leader, well tuned to her audience and not afraid to challenge others for their opinion, commitment, or compliance. She didn’t tolerate any sidetracks. By the time the meeting was over in less than an hour everyone, including him, had a full list of things to do and a very tight and strict timeline in which to get them done.
“You run a pretty tight ship, Special Agent DeLaine,” Jason said after everyone else except Ari and Bolton had left the room.
“Thanks. Ten years in the Bureau, most of it in organizing operations, surveillance missions, and joint task forces such as this will do it.” She stopped shuffling the notes before her and looked at Richter. “I feel we got off on the wrong foot, Jason. I know you’re proud of CID—justifiably so…”
“I sure am.”
“But I’m concerned about meeting Sergeant Major Jefferson’s and National Security Adviser Chamberlain’s deadlines for organizing a fully mission-ready unit,” Kelsey went on. “I’m sure CID is incredibly effective and useful, but I don’t know anything about it, or you, or the technology behind it. If it doesn’t work, or we can’t build a fighting unit around it, we’d have to start all over, and by then another American city could get attacked. I just don’t want to take the chance.”
“I hear what you’re saying, Kelsey,” Jason said. “But Ari and I do know how to use CID, and we’re here. We’re ready to teach all of you, even Sergeant Major Jefferson, how to use it. You just have to trust us.”
“Not that argument again, Richter,” Bolton moaned. “It’s time to get off that old song.”
Kelsey held up a hand to Bolton. “I think you know where we’re coming from, Jason,” Kelsey said. “CID is your pride and joy, and you want to see it in action. The sergeant major and I have experience with setting up small-unit special-ops task forces. That’s our background and training. When under the gun like this, we simply fall back on our experience and training. We’re not trying to exclude you—in fact, after a while, we might have nothing but a platoon full of CID units in this…”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Kelsey—with CID, you don’t need a whole platoon of soldiers to do the job,” Jason interjected. “Don’t you get it? Chamberlain chose us because he saw the potential for a rapid- reaction force that can swing into action now, not a month or two from now until we get thirty guys out here, trained, and equipped for what we want to do. I think he chose CID because we’re ready now.”
“Jason…”
“If you want to organize a platoon in the traditional sense, fine—the command and support elements make total sense,” Jason went on. “But you don’t need sixteen Marines to form the operational elements, because I guarantee that two CIDs have the same fighting power and self-defense capabilities of four Marine mortar or rifle squads. Plus, we’re here, ready to go.”
Kelsey looked at Jason for a long moment, thinking hard. “I don’t know…”
“Both of you, stop right now,” Sergeant Major Jefferson interjected. He regarded Kelsey for a few moments, making it clear that he didn’t believe her. “Special Agent DeLaine: Why, may I ask, are you not going to utilize Major Richter’s weapon systems?”
“I’m just not familiar enough with them, and I feel we don’t have the time to fully integrate that technology into the task force’s mission,” Kelsey responded. She glanced at Jason, then added, “I just don’t trust him yet, that’s all. We should prepare a TO&E for a standard infantry platoon, configured and customized for joint military–FBI tactics, rapid deployment, and special-operations missions. We feel we can be on time and fully mission-ready within the allotted time frame.”
“Major?” Jefferson asked, without turning his eyes away from Kelsey. “You agree?”
“No, Sergeant Major, I don’t,” Jason replied. “But I’m willing to defer to Special Agent DeLaine’s and your experience and cooperate with your plan. I’ll be sure to make suggestions at every relevant point on how CID can enhance and improve the task force’s effectiveness.”
Jefferson turned and faced Richter, and he looked none too pleased. “Well, suddenly you two seem to be all sweetness and light together,” he said acidly. “It had better stay this way, or I will shit-can both of you and see to it that you are both assigned to an office in the farthest reaches of Greenland or northern Uzbekistan, where you can threaten and cajole each other twenty-four-seven until I can successfully get you drummed out of your respective services. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Sergeant Major,” they both responded.
“Hoo fucking-rah,” Jefferson said in a low, menacing voice. “I am going to meet with the base commanding general, and I’m going to brief him on our activities here and then do nine holes of golf. Being a good subordinate army NCO, I will lose to him by two strokes, which I hate doing, so I will be in no mood for any bullshit. By the time I return, I want the TO&E transmitted to my laptop for my review and approval. And it had better be complete, or I will come back out here and shove that aforementioned laptop down both your throats piece by piece. Have I made myself understood?”
“Perfectly, Sergeant Major.”
Jefferson then turned to DeLaine and said, “The President’s National Security Adviser did not assign Richter, Vega, and their equipment here just to watch you do your own thing. If you don’t know how CID works, then I strongly suggest you take the time to learn. I’m not telling you how to run your task force, but when we give you tools we expect you to use them unless you decide they’re no good. Can you do that, Special Agent DeLaine?”
Kelsey hesitated just long enough for Jefferson’s eyes to widen in anger before replying, “Of course, Sergeant Major.”
“Do you have anything else you wish to tell me, DeLaine?” he asked suspiciously. “Speak now, because if I leave this room and you two still have a problem that needs to be addressed, and you don’t inform me of it, I will hold you personally responsible for the outcome. Do you have anything to say to me, Special Agent DeLaine?”
She took another glance at Jason, returned her gaze to Jefferson, and said, “We’ll take care of it, Sergeant Major.”
Jefferson nodded, his expression still angry but willing to let them try to work it out together. “I’m holding you to it, DeLaine,” he said. “Major Richter, do you have anything to add?”
“No, Sergeant Major.”
“Now stop your squabbling and get to work,” Jefferson said. No one dared move or even blink until the Army Ranger departed.
“Well, that was enjoyable,” Jason deadpanned. He turned to Sergeant Moore. “You did good today in CID Two, Doug. Still want to train with us in the CID?”
“Yes, sir!” Moore said enthusiastically.
“You’re a stand-up guy, Doug—and besides, you fit perfectly into CID Two. Meet up with Ari in the Humvee; she’ll run your orientation program.”
“After we go out to the range to learn how to shoot,” Ari added.
“You still want to learn how to shoot, Dr. Vega?” Moore asked, surprised. “I thought all that was just to get my mind off climbing into CID Two.”
