‘Military, then,’ Darren offered. ‘Best way of doing this, keep it all in-house.’
Monty shook his head. ‘Maybe you could do it for a couple of cities, but not for ten. Most military craft don’t fly in and out of civilian airports, or transit civilian airspace. Same problem with news coverage. If you start having military aircraft suddenly appear over civilian airspace, then the questions will start.’
Victor seemed to want to say something, but kept his mouth shut. His hands on the tabletop in front of him seemed to be trembling. Adrianna said, ‘Those canisters, Victor. How can they be installed on aircraft? What kind of support mechanism would you need? Would a pilot have to activate the canister?’
‘No, you wouldn’t need a pilot,’ Victor said sullenly. ‘You could have it set up automatically, as simple as possible. You’d have a dispersal-control mechanism hooked up to the canister. Place the canister in a secure location. Set a radio altimeter switch in the canister so that when the aircraft carrying it rises up to three thousand feet the radio altimeter arms the canister. When the aircraft goes below three thousand feet, the canister begins dispersing the vaccine because of the change in altitude registered by the radio altimeter. In fact — shit, you know, that might work. That just might work.’
Adrianna kept quiet. It was important that the entire group take part in the process, have a stake in whatever outcome was chosen. Darren said, ‘Well, tell us, doc. What would work?’
‘What do all these population centers have in common? Airports. That’s what they have in common. Aircraft coming into airports all the time. Not a problem. Nothing unusual. Nothing to attract attention. If you time it just right…’
‘Shit,’ Monty said. ‘It could be done in just one night, right?’
Brian said, ‘Who are you going to get to do it? American Airlines? United? You think they’d take part in something as crazy as this? Not going to happen. Not in a million years.’
‘Then perhaps somebody else, another outfit,’ Adrianna said, the shaking of her legs continuing. ‘Not a passenger air-line, but an airline that—’
Darren spoke up, and Adrianna had to prevent herself from shouting in glee at his suggestion.
‘The General,’ he said. ‘We get the General to do it, that’s how.’
The expressions on everyone’s faces changed. Nobody needed an explanation of what Darren had just said. Former Air Force General Alexander Bocks, nearly ten years ago, had used his experience as a cargo-shipping officer in the Air Force to create one of the most successful airfreight airlines in the world, AirBox. His black-and-yellow Air Boxes could be seen on most streets in major cities in the United States and Canada, and the men and women delivering the packages coming out of the Air Boxes wore uniforms that were clear knock-offs of Air Force apparel. He was also a firm supporter of the current administration and of the latest installment in the round-the-clock struggle that characterized the new war on terror.
Darren spoke up again. ‘Adrianna, this is more in your department’s line but it’s always been rumored, at least-in my agency, that General Bocks has always been…well, cooperative when your agency or others have needed transportation assistance. True?’
Adrianna tried to keep her voice calm and level. Finally, at long last, success…
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘General Bocks has been very cooperative in the past in helping us move assets from parts of the world where traditional air service is under constant surveillance. Air cargo doesn’t get the kind of scrutiny that the typical airlines receive.’
Brian said with a smile that made her shiver for a moment, ‘Care to say what you mean by assets?’
She smiled right back at him. ‘Packages containing sensitive equipment. And, on a few occasions, packages that contained sensitive people.’
Monty said, ‘Can it be done? Adrianna, do you think you can do it?’
She looked at each and every one of them and said, ‘Yes, I do. I really do.’ She took a breath. ‘Victor, I’m going to need a timetable of when the canisters will be available to be shipped, and where they can be picked up. Darren, I need the latest information you have on the traffic analysis and intercepts of the anthrax attack teams. Monty, come up with a briefing on border security and the hunt for the Syrians, and what recommendations I need to bring to our border people. Brian, give me a recommendation of how we can bring in local law enforcement to look for the attack teams without word getting out.’
Adrianna yawned suddenly, which caused the men to laugh — a good sound. She looked at her watch and said, ‘I’ll need this information by eleven p.m. At midnight I’ll be making a presentation to the Director. And tomorrow…Tuesday, right? Right. Tuesday, I want this place empty. You’re all going to take the day off, all of you — and that includes me as well — because we need to come back to work rested and refreshed. It’s going to be one long fucking haul to do this right.’
Adrianna stood up, her legs no longer shaking, her stance firm and strong, and she said, ‘Thank you. Thank you all for your work. You can’t even begin to understand how much this means to me.’
And then she turned aside to hide the expression on her face.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The meeting of the Tiger Team leaders took place in the basement of an obscure building on the outskirts of Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland. The conference room’s main table was long and the mood was somber as Adrianna took her seat and looked up at the Director sitting at the other end, overseeing the twelve Tiger Team leaders, all of whom sat still and quiet, their laptops open in front of them. He had once been a Deputy Director of her own agency — a former colonel in the US Army Special Forces — promoted after a tour of duty in Afghanistan in that bitter fall of 2001. Outside Kandahar he had lost most of his left leg to a Soviet-era land mine, and had been tapped to head the Tiger Teams after his recovery. It was midnight and coffee, tea, doughnuts and juice drinks had been placed on a table in the corner of the room, but nobody was eating, nobody was drinking. It seemed to Adrianna that the mood in the room tonight just didn’t go with people munching goodies.
The Tiger Team leader sitting closest to the Director was an older woman from the National Reconnaissance Office, whose name Adrianna had already forgotten and whose hands were quivering as she presented her report. She had been stationed at the facility in Connecticut, and was the senior surviving officer from yesterday’s assault. Though her hands shook as she went through her report, her voice was clear and to the point. The terrorist had gained entrance by moving quicker than anyone had anticipated. The female security officer on the ground floor had apparently just returned from a bathroom break when the terrorist entered. The personnel on the ground floor also did not respond in time to the assault, though the alarm system should have been activated. Due to a security breach that was still being investigated, the terrorist had had the proper keypad authorization to use the elevator to descend to the lower level, where he had been shot by one of the personnel on that floor who had responded to the alarm activation.
Adrianna joined in the discussion with the other Tiger Team members, being careful not to probe too deeply or too forcefully. She knew that she was going to be in for a rough time of it later, and wanted to save her energy and her voice for then. The other Tiger Team leaders persistently and quietly interrogated the National Reconnaissance Office woman, and when the questions finally dribbled away she gave a quick glance of thankfulness to the Director that her ordeal in the conference room had ended.