Collins asked. “Just tell them to get their asses in gear and get the job done!”
“It’s not as simple as that, Miss Collins,” Chamberlain said. “They are professionals, and the last thing they need is an un-elected bureaucrat from Washington with no military or intelligence training telling them how to do their jobs…”
“Then maybe we picked the wrong man to form this task force,” Collins interjected.
“I serve at the pleasure of the President, same as you—he can remove me at any time and for any reason,” Chamberlain shot back at her. “But it goes to show how little you know of how experts work…”
“Experts? Mr. Chamberlain, correct me if I’m wrong, but you picked a young female FBI agent with very little field experience, and a young army major with absolutely no field experience, to lead this task force…”
“I picked a dedicated group of professionals with unique talents to head this task force, Miss Collins,” Chamberlain said resolutely. “I have every confidence in their abilities.” An Air Force communications officer dropped a message in front of him. While glancing at the message, Chamberlain went on, “It’ll just take time to get them ready for action. They will…” His facial expression became more and more disbelieving as he read, until finally, he said, “Excuse me, Mr. President, let me take care of this.” He picked up the phone and dialed a number, his voice shaking slightly as he gave the communications officer the number.
As he was speaking on the phone, Secretary of State Parker took a message handed to him by an aide: “Mr. Chamberlain, I’ve just received a message from the foreign minister of Brazil that I think you should know about…”
“I’ll be there in a sec, Chris.”
“What is going on, Chris?” the President asked.
“Sir, the Brazilian foreign ministry wants to know why we’ve sent a strike team with an armed robot down to Brazil to kill federal military police forces.”
The President turned to look at Chamberlain…but the National Security Adviser was already sitting with his mouth agape in surprise as he listened to his aide’s report. “Robert…”
“Tell them to get their asses back here, on the double!” he hissed into his phone.
“Mr. Chamberlain!” the President shouted.
“Do it!” Chamberlain snapped into the phone, then hung up. He took a deep breath, then said, “Mr. President, I’ve just received a report from my aide, Sergeant Major Jefferson. He is in Sao Paulo, Brazil, with elements of Task Force TALON.”
“What?” the President exclaimed. “Who in hell authorized this?”
“I did, sir, on my own initiative,” Chamberlain replied.
“Explain.”
“The cocommander of the task force, Major Richter, received information from a highly reliable civilian source of the location of a senior member of a terrorist group known as GAMMA that may have been responsible for the nuclear blast in Kingman City,” Chamberlain explained. “Without prior authorization, Major Richter prepared to take one of his robotic units, what he calls a CID, or Cybernetic Infantry Device, down to Brazil to capture this suspect. Sergeant Major Jefferson intercepted the major before he could depart.”
“So how did they end up in Brazil?”
“I verified the information Major Richter had with Kristen Skyy’s producers and top executives at SATCOM One News in New York,” Chamberlain went on. “The information was good, so I authorized the investigation.”
“With a damned armed robot?”
“No, sir. I told Sergeant Major Jefferson this was to be an investigation only. They apparently decided to bring their manned robot weapon system with them.”
“Are they crazy?” Secretary of State Parker exclaimed. “What in hell is going on with this unit of yours, Chamberlain? Are they out of their minds?”
“Under whose authority did he think he was operating, Chamberlain?” chief of staff Collins asked heatedly. “Yours?”
“I wasn’t privy to his decision-making logic, Miss Collins,” Chamberlain said distractedly.
“Oh, great…!”
“In any case, the task force did find this terrorist leader, who had been captured by government troops…”
“And our guys fought with the Brazilian army?”
“The troops were apparently trying to kill the terrorist leader, not arrest him, on orders of an unidentified foreign fighter,” Chamberlain said. “I’m unclear as to the details, but the bottom line is that the task force captured the terrorist second in command.” To the President, he went on: “Sir, they are now requesting permission to pursue leads that might result in the capture of the terrorist leader himself. They are requesting that the rest of the task force deploy to Brazil to assist.”
“Not only should they not deploy—they should all be court-martialed!”
“For what, Collins—doing their jobs?” Chamberlain asked. “They said they had concrete evidence linking this terror organization with the blast at Kingman City, and they acted. That’s exactly what they should be doing. I may not agree with them doing this without coordinating with me, but at least they acted.”
“That’s enough,” the President said. “Robert, make sure the task force members stop what the hell they’re doing and await further orders. No other contact with local law enforcement or the Brazilian military until I give the word. Brief State and Justice right away on the task-force members down there and their capabilities—especially that robot thing that’s tearing the place up.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Chamberlain said, picking up the telephone and looking immensely relieved.
To the Secretary of State, the President said, “Chris, speak with the Brazilian Interior Ministry about getting our guys official sanction while they’re down there before the world press thinks we’ve just started an invasion of Brazil.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And talk to him about getting them permission to hunt down terror suspects down there. If our guys are pursuing the ones who planned and carried out the attack on Kingman City, I want full cooperation.”
Sao Paulo, Brazil
A short time later
Ray Jefferson closed his cell phone. “That’s it,” he said. “We’ve been ordered to stand down and await further orders. No other task force deployments authorized.”
“This could be our only hope to capture Ruiz before Khalimov gets him,” Kristen Skyy pointed out.
“We’ve exceeded our authority as it is,” Jefferson said. “Mount up and let’s get out of here before more PME troops arrive and they decide we’ve broken the law—which I’m sure we’ve done.”
Jason Richter hesitated. Then, he turned to Kristen: “Do we have enough fuel to get to Abaete, Kristen?” he asked.
“Sure.” Kristen saw the look on Jason’s face, and her own expression turned serious. She shrugged and added, “Maybe just enough. We should stop there to refuel.”
Jefferson shot an angry glance at Richter. “Major, I warned you…”
“Sir, Abaete is north of here,” Jason interjected quickly. “We need to make a fuel stop as we head northbound, don’t we? Abaete is just as good a place to stop as any.”
“There’s a restaurant at Abaete Regional Airport that serves the best churrasco—Brazilian barbecue,” Kristen said with a twinkle in her eye. “You boys will love it.”
“You clowns got it all figured out, don’t you?” Jefferson asked irritably—but he nodded: it was exactly the excuse he was looking for. “All right, mount up. And get that CID unit fixed as best you can, Dr. Vega—I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”
Abaete, State of Minas Gerais, Brazil
That evening
“I see you chose to disobey orders and stop in Abaete after all, eh, Sergeant Major?” Robert Chamberlain remarked via their secure cellular phone.
“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Major Ray Jefferson replied. He knew that their cellular phones had a GPS tracking system that continuously broadcast their exact position; he would have reported their stopover point in any case. “I can explain.”
“It’d better be good.”
“Sir, Kristen Skyy’s information has been dead on so far,” Jefferson said, “and we have every reason to
