Gant thought aloud, "We'll need a liaison with PACOM."
"I can handle that from here," Colonel Thunder volunteered. "That's just a bunch of phone calls."
Friez's voice came over the speaker, "That's a start, but you'll need to get someone in theater to interface directly with the service components, particularly with the Pacific Special Operations Command. That will take time, and Major Gant, I don't like wasting time."
"We can insert a small team first," Gant said, "if I can find air transport within operational range of the target. We recon and report. Is the senator's extraction a priority?"
"Senator Kendal has friends on the Intelligence Committee, which is probably why he had such a veteran Secret Service escort for what was essentially a vacation down under. Yes, we'd like to extract him intact, if possible."
Major Gant said, "Getting in fast should be easy. Getting out fast will pose a challenge."
Friez worked a step ahead: "You will need someone to coordinate support assets with Pacific Command. Fixed-wing insertion should not be an issue, but unless we're particularly lucky I doubt there is a helicopter within range, at least not immediately."
Major Gant stood straight again and said, "Colonel, if you could get working on the preliminaries from your office, I'll assemble my team. Captain Campion will go to PACOM as our liaison along with the bulk of the detachment. I'll drop in with a partner to assess the situation and evaluate the threat. Experience tells me this is probably a wild goose chase, but if it's not then I can communicate what measures need to be taken."
Before anyone could speak, Dr. Stacy broke in, "I want to go."
"That will not be possible—"
Friez's voice from the speaker cut off Gant, "That's a great idea, Annabelle. Dive right in and put all that training of yours to work right away."
"With all due respect, Dr. Stacy has been a part of Archangel for less than a month and has not been in the field yet."
"Major, what kind of threat are we facing here?" General Friez asked.
The question threw Gant. He squinted and replied, "As you said, that has not been established yet, General."
"Exactly. I would think that having your science officer and her trio of PhDs along might help you ascertain the nature of that threat and perhaps even combat it. Or does that not make sense?"
"General, sir, we are most certainly looking at a high-altitude air drop mission."
Stacy shot back, "I practiced HALO and HAHO jumps with the Seals. Perfect landing each time, and I've been hitting the altitude chamber with the rest of the team."
"Really, Doctor?" Gant glared at her. "Odds are, we will not arrive at the drop zone until after nightfall and need to fall six miles out of the sky in about two minutes to hit a tiny island in the middle of the largest water mass on the planet. Is that what you trained for?"
Stacy hesitated, her energetic eyes faltering.
Friez ended the conversation, "Take her, Major Gant. She has the background to evaluate the environment and the situation. I put her on your team for a reason and this is it."
Silence fell for a moment as Friez's point — his order — became clear. When he was satisfied that all objections had been quelled, the general told them, "I need to get balls rolling on my end and so do you, Colonel. As for the major, well, your team should be in the air in a few minutes, with the rest to follow based on the cooperation we get from Pacific Command. Contact me when you're getting close to Hawaii. I may have the satellite photos by then."
The line went dead.
Gant glanced at Stacy, glared at Thunder, and then walked out of the office to assemble his men.
When he had left, Stacy turned to Liz and said, "I'm not stupid. I know this isn't going to be easy. If Albert hadn't jumped in, I'd be spending this mission at my desk, wouldn't I?"
Colonel Thunder told her, "Your dad is still alive, right?"
Stacy nodded, "Yes. He's on the other side of the country but he's there. Why?"
"Well you've got two new fathers looking out for you. You should be honored."
"What do you mean?"
"Different kinds of dads, of course. General Friez is the type of father that wants you to go out and reach for the brass ring. Gant, well, he's the kind that wants to keep you sheltered and protected."
Stacy snorted something like a chuckle and answered, "I'll go with the general. If I wanted shelter, I'd be working in a civilian lab or teaching at a university."
Colonel Thunder looked at the younger lady and warned, "Before this is over, you may wish that was the case."
3
Major Gant exited the Humvee. His black BDUs stood in stark contrast to the bright desert landscape with the sun beating down so hard that it felt as if he might be broiled alive.
In front of him sat an airfield nearly surrounded by mountains. To the south, through a break in those mountains, were Fort Irwin's primary facilities, including the National Training Center.
That is what made his task force's cover so complete. As far as the accountants were concerned, Archangel was merely a component of the larger Opposing Force — or OpFor — operating at Irwin. More specifically the Eleventh Armored Cavalry, also known as the Blackhorse Regiment. They were tasked with simulating enemy combatants so as to prepare the army for America's potential adversaries. Indeed, the massive grounds at Fort Irwin included mock villages built to resemble real-world places.
In any case, Task Force Archangel was billed as a special red team that conducted penetration testing in a variety of settings. In truth, they existed to face and defeat unconventional threats, ranging from downed extraterrestrials to various manmade nightmares. The type of threats the government did not want the public to be aware of, usually because the government had created the threat in the first place.
The Darwin facility occupied an isolated a corner of the sprawling grounds, but the airfield was one element of the greater facility that Archangel accessed on a regular basis.
Gant hurried toward a Bombardier Learjet 45 waiting on the runway. Behind him followed Specialist Jupiter Wells with a backpack full of equipment. Next came Dr. Annabelle Stacy in BDUs a size too big and struggling with two suitcases and a backpack of her own.
Major Gant spoke into a cell phone as he walked. The closer he came to the plane, the louder he spoke, so as to be heard over the spooling engines.
"Jean, yes, I think it will be several days, maybe a week."
Informing his wife of his departure was a shallow courtesy. There had been plenty of occasions when he disappeared for days without explanation or warning. But she did not question, she did not wonder. She simply accepted and went on with her routine of tending the garden, cleaning the house, and the occasional cards night with friends.
Yes, he understood how his job had turned their marriage into a farce. He knew she remained faithful, he knew she still loved him, and he knew that this life was killing her one day at a time, like dead leaves falling from an autumn tree.
The entity they had found a few months ago at Red Rock had showed that to him.
He cared. He wished things could be different. But Major Thom Gant was trapped by duty and training. He knew no other way. Not so long ago, Thom had had a friend who had tried to force him to break the cycle, but he had been lost in that Hell hole deep beneath a mountain in Pennsylvania.
Besides, the more dangerous the mission, the more likely he would not return, and that might be the one thing that could free Jean from her prison.
He could have told her he was sorry but it made no difference.
She said, "I love you," out of instinct and he responded in kind before hanging up the phone, slipping it in a pocket, and focusing all his attention on the mission to come.