Drone Threat

16

The thirty-four-foot Carver cruiser was docked at the end of the pier. Boating in the Potomac was usually done in the evenings or weekends. The only people who could afford the big boats generally worked during business hours. Nobody was around at this time of the day. That’s why nobody noticed the sudden whir of six electric engines exploding into gear and the triangular foam FireFLY6 aerobot lifting gently off the rear deck like a helicopter. The small drone was painted red, white, and blue and looked like a hobby store toy.

The VTOL airplane inched forward until it cleared the Carver’s bridge, retracted its landing gear, and rose thirty feet in the air. Its six engines — four on two-engine mounts on the leading edge of the wings, two on a single mount in the rear — were in the vertical position. The FireFLY6 increased its speed marginally as it made its way across the Washington Channel, where it hovered for a just a moment above the East Potomac Tennis Center, its first waypoint. As soon as the autopilot program coordinated with its inertial and optical navigation systems, three servos rotated the six engines into the horizontal position, converting the helicopter into an airplane. It sped effortlessly northwest toward the Tidal Basin, where it reached its next waypoint, the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, then turned north toward the World War II Memorial, the third coordinate in its program. From the World War II Memorial to the target was less than half a mile to the northeast.

It took just two minutes and thirteen seconds for the VTOL aircraft to reach the airspace over the South Lawn of the White House.

Washington, D.C., airspace is the most restricted and protected in the United States. Maybe even the whole planet.

The first line of defense was a layered array of surveillance and detection devices — dedicated satellite, mobile radar, stationary cameras, and acoustic mics around the district and on the White House campus — designed to locate and track conventional aerial assault long before it reached the president’s official residence and work office.

The second layer of defense was kinetic. Air defense systems, including mobile antiaircraft missile and machine gun platforms, combined with dedicated combat air patrols circling overhead twenty-four hours a day, were tasked with neutralizing aerial threats like a sea-launched missile or a hijacked passenger jet.

The White House grounds were similarly armed with a variety of antiaircraft systems. As a final defense, hundreds of Secret Service agents and Capitol Hill police guarded the White House grounds, and they had access to a wide variety of weapons — rifles, machine guns, shotguns, semi-auto pistols, and even shoulder-launched antiaircraft missiles — that might conceivably be deployed in a last-ditch effort to take down intruding aircraft.

Unfortunately, none of the layered air defense systems worked if the object itself couldn’t be located electronically or visually, typically a problem with smaller, nonconventional airframes like drones. Two solutions to this problem were put in place.

The first solution was the FAA’s recent requirement that manufactured consumer off-the-shelf (COTS) drones feature navigation firmware automatically preventing drone vehicles from entering the airspace of airports, military installations, important national monuments and buildings, and other sensitive locations around the country, including Washington, D.C.

The second defense solution was more active. Following a number of accidental drone landings on or near the White House grounds in recent years, a limited electronic shield was installed. It amounted to a dome of signal-jamming radio waves blanketing the likely approach routes of errant vehicles to the White House compound. Once either a radio-controlled or GPS autopiloted drone entered the invisible dome, the signal from the radio controller or GPS satellite signal would be disrupted. In both cases, COTS drone systems were designed to land immediately.

That morning, both solutions failed.

Once the FireFLY6 VTOL crossed the outer White House fence, its servos turned and the engines reoriented to their helicopter position and the landing gear extended. Moments later the aircraft landed dead center in the outdoor basketball court due west of the South Lawn Fountain, scaring the hell out of the groundskeeper emptying a trash bin.

Per security protocols, the groundskeeper immediately radioed the Capitol Police, who, in turn, notified the Secret Service. The basketball court was cleared and cordoned off, and a specially equipped panel van arrived. The drone seemed harmless enough. An accidental flyaway, most likely. The special agent in charge (SAIC) wasn’t concerned but she was a stickler for procedure. You just never knew.

Twenty minutes later a remote-controlled ground unit approached the red, white, and blue drone. Infrared and optical cameras, a Geiger counter, and a battery of electronic sniffers found no traces of dangerous explosives, chemicals, or biological or radioactive elements. It appeared to be exactly what it was: a harmless hobby store drone.

It was getting late and the crowd of first responders was growing. Since the drone was most likely harmless, there was no point in drawing attention to it. If the SAIC wasn’t careful, a reporter with a camera would show up, and this thing would be all over the nightly news and her ass would be in a sling. She only had six more years until she could draw retirement, and now was no time for a reprimand for wasting scarce Treasury resources. The White House was gearing up for a round of important visits later that day and the Secret Service detail was already stretched to the limit.

The SAIC told the others at the van to stay back as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves. She walked over to the drone, hoping like hell her instincts were correct. She knelt down and gave it one more visual inspection. No unusual wires or canisters. No suspicious or provocative markings or badges. A digital camera was located in the nose, confirming her theory that the drone was just an expensive toy that got away from some knucklehead with a radio transmitter and too much time on his hands. She lifted the lightweight drone as she stood. She turned it over. On the vehicle’s underbelly was another downward-facing digital camera. But what caught her attention was the four-inch square hatch door and a latch marked with a directional arrow and OPEN embossed in the plastic.

She took a deep breath as she turned the latch. The door popped open.

She should’ve stuck with procedure.