David frowned at that. Hell of a pep talk. He walked over to the other plane, still unsure whether this was the best decision. David took a deep breath and walked up the ladder and into the aircraft.
A few minutes later, Tom and his assistant stood on the flight line, and watched as David’s jet disappeared to the west. Tom closed his eyes and took a long drag from his cigarette. No turning back now.
The man in tactical gear said, “Are you really going to call his wife?”
Tom glanced at him. This guy was such an idiot. Where did his company get its goons? He was barely a step up from the henchmen on the Sopranos.
“No.” Tom replied.
There is no need. They’ll never see each other again.
Tom said, “Come on. Let’s get in the plane. We’ve got work to do.” He flicked the smoldering cigarette onto the tarmac and headed up the stairs of the jet.
CHAPTER 2
“Our historic dominance that most of us in this room have enjoyed is diminishing… China is going to rise, we all know that. [But] how are they behaving? That is really the question… ”
The plane ride was long and uncomfortable. David’s face was covered with day-old stubble, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the lack of sleep. He also needed a shower. Badly. While the seats on the jet had the same luxury cushions as the first aircraft, there is nothing in the world that can make a nine-hour plane ride comfortable.
As soon as they had gotten in the aircraft, a male “flight attendant,” who David was pretty sure held no formal position with an airline, had given them each 20-page briefs to read. He also provided them food and drinks. Other than that, the man didn’t speak for the duration of the trip.
David rather liked the two other passengers he met on the plane. Each of them was going to participate in the same capacity as David. Brooke and he found that they were the best-informed of the group. All the other two had been told was that they were to be consultants on a national-security project.
Bill Stanley was a defense contractor who lived in Nevada. He had retired from the Air Force more than a decade ago, and had a wife and two grown boys. He worked on drones and “a few jets that you wouldn’t believe existed if I told you.” David learned that Bill commuted to work every day on a US Air Force Boeing 767. He would drive to Las Vegas’ McCarran International Airport, then fly to what was once known as Area 51. They joked about UFO’s and aliens, and then realized that nothing was very funny now that World War Three may be on the horizon. Bill spent most of his time working on the long-range satellite communications to and from high-tech US military aircraft and drones.
Henry Glickstein was a self-proclaimed “maker” and telecommunications guru who had worked for several of the big-tech companies. The entire time they spoke, he never stopped smiling or walking around the plane’s cabin inspecting every element. He had designed data farms and overseen the layout of fiber optic networks for a living, and gave David the impression that he was a workaholic; an engineer who couldn’t stop trying to solve whatever problem lay in front of him. He was a jokester, but a competent and driven one. It was like his mind was moving so fast that he had to throw in a few one-liners every so often so he didn’t get bored.
They were each astonished to hear David’s story of being kidnapped. Their invitations were markedly different. As with Brooke, a single person in their chain of command had contacted the two men just 24 hours earlier. They each had been sold on the importance of the mysterious project. They each had been told not to discuss it with anyone, and to pack for several weeks.
They hadn’t understood why the secrecy was so important, but all of them had complied with the request. David had been surprised that they all went so willingly, without knowing more. Each of the three had trusted the manager who had approached them. And they felt a sense of duty to participate in what was deemed a crucial project. The two men hadn’t known about the connection to a possible Chinese invasion.
David and Brooke told them. They were floored. Most of the plane ride was spent talking about different scenarios for why China would do something like this. The more David thought about it, the more he realized how hard it was going to be for Americans to believe something like this could really happen. Americans were comfortable. Human beings were reactive, not proactive, when they were comfortable. It was hard to get people to prepare for a hurricane if they hadn’t been hit in recent years. And that’s exactly what this was: an approaching storm of monumental proportions. A world war hadn’t happened in David’s lifetime. Would people prepare for the storm? Or would they watch the news reports from their couches in disbelief, waiting for a resolution?
The briefs the flight attendant handed out gave them little new information. They were to be consultants to the US government in a Red Cell. According to the document, Red Cells were used by the CIA to “think outside the box about a full range of relevant analytic issues." Whatever that meant. Each consultant was to provide the team with insights and critical knowledge from their individual area of expertise. When the group finished reading, they had more questions than answers. The second half of the flight once again was used for sleeping.
When they landed, it was late afternoon at their destination. David wondered how many time zones they had passed. The door to the jet opened and revealed bright blue skies and an inrush of thick, tropical air.
The group’s tired eyes were wide as they looked around at their landing spot. There was ocean everywhere. It reminded David of one of those old World War Two island air bases built in the middle of the Pacific. It was tiny, as islands go — or air bases, for that matter. They could only see about half of the island before it curved around into the sea. The runway looked like it barely fit, surrounded by dark black sandy beaches and turquoise waters on three sides. On the other side of the runway was a set of four concrete structures that were separated from tropical rainforest by a tall barbed-wire fence. The dense green vegetation rose higher and higher up along a towering, jungle-covered mountain.
Today was arrival day for several groups of consultants. Another jet taxied back out to the runway. It looked identical to the aircraft they had come in on. David watched that jet’s group of passengers carrying their bags up the sandy path to the buildings. The flight attendant directed his group to do the same.
David and his new companions grabbed their things and followed step. When they reached the buildings, they were shown to their quarters by an Air Force Major in his summer blues.
“Name?” He asked as David approached.
“David Manning.”
“Manning. Yup. 214. Up the stairs. Here’s your key. Throw your stuff in your room. Please meet at The Classroom in one hour. It’s the big building up on the hill with the large glass windows that overlook the runway.”
“Got it. Thanks.” David wanted to ask the Major a million questions, but the others were checking in and he decided to wait. It sounded like they were to get an in-brief in another hour.
An hour later, David sat admiring the swaying palms and clear blue sea through the panoramic windows of the large amphitheater-style classroom. He had showered and shaved using items from the duffel bag Tom had provided. It felt good, but he was still exhausted from the trip.
He thought about his wife and daughters. Lindsay was probably in tears. God, he hoped she would forgive him for this. If this were all really happening, he didn’t see how he had a choice. David wondered why he kept thinking like that. As if this might not be real. Was it the magnitude of a war with China? Or was it something else that caused him to feel uncomfortable?