Hail Warning

The White House Oval Office — Washington, D.C

President Joanna Weston had called a meeting with the head of White House security. Patrick West was also the head of the United States Secret Service. West had been the head honcho in charge of the USSS for twenty years. During that time, he had dealt with all sorts of new and challenging threats, from those who could do harm to those the Secret Service was responsible for protecting. He expected today’s meeting with the president would be simple and straightforward.

Weeks earlier, West had assured her all the signals essential for operating a drone had been jammed and tested on White House grounds. During a three-week period, between the hours of 1:00 a.m. to 4:00 a.m., the CIA had flown small drones over the White House property. Each drone had fallen from the sky the moment it entered the invisible jamming net. This tactic had proven effective. The downside of the technology was that it also jammed all the other signals on the property, such as the radio and cellphones the Secret Service used to communicate with one another. So, although it worked, it was inconvenient. West was advocating finding another method to immobilize the drones, or perhaps switch his security team to another mode of communication.

Prior to the president’s first sentence, West thought she looked quite confrontational. Her typical gracious greeting had not been offered this morning. Instead, when West had walked into the Oval Office, other than gesturing for him to sit down across from her desk, he was met with a wall of silence.

He understood from her demeanor that he was in trouble. The entire Secret Service was in trouble. Hell, the entire country was in trouble. Drones had become a big problem. And it wasn’t the drones that the public could buy in a store that were the issue. All the store-bought drones had already been preprogrammed at the factory not to fly within fifteen miles of the White House.

The real problem was that kids, terrorists or terrorist’s kids could print the drone’s parts on a 3D printer, purchase just the motors separately, and build their own aircraft. There were many open-source flight software apps and navigation apps able to be loaded into the memory of the drone’s firmware. And, just like that, they had a fully functioning drone. The little drones were not a major concern to West. Instead, it was the larger drones, those that could carry weapons, that caused him to lose sleep at night. The large drones had the ability to fly onto the White House property and start taking potshots at anyone outside. For that matter, the drones could simply fly up to a window and take out targets through the glass. The glass was bulletproof. But was anything entirely bulletproof? Bullet resistant, maybe. But how many bullets would it take to punch a hole in the glass? A dozen full-jacketed, high-velocity rounds? Maybe less. Maybe more. And how many rounds could a drone carry? All those factors made West’s job untenable at times.

There were sharpshooters on the roof of the White House, and guards surrounding the perimeter, but they couldn’t see everything or be everywhere always. At night, a drone could potentially fly onto the property under the cover of darkness, and if it wasn’t for the fact that all the radio and cell signals were jammed on the property, it could result in a disastrous outcome.

But Marshall Hail had flown a drone onto White House property and had set his drone on the table right in front of the president. Because of that single action, West knew why he had been summoned to the Oval Office.

The president began by saying, “Pat, I want to be frank with you. I don’t feel safe.”

West let the commander-in-chief’s words marinate in the air for a moment, but timing was critical. He wanted to leave enough space before he responded, so the president understood that her concerns warranted some thought and contemplation. Yet, he didn’t want to wait long before he responded, giving her the impression that he was either inattentive or didn’t take the threat seriously.

“I completely understand your concerns,” West responded.

The president waited as if she expected him to elaborate. When it became apparent West was done talking, the president said, “Let me be a little more specific. I don’t feel safe when I’m outside on the White House grounds.”

The problem West had was he lacked any responses that would help the president feel safe.

He decided to go into a stall tactic.

“Madam President, we are currently working on a security solution that will prevent what happened with Marshall Hail from ever happening again.”

The president offered a constricted smile. It flashed across her face like a snake strike and vanished.

“And, in the meantime, while you’re working on the problem, what am I supposed to do? Never leave the confines of these white walls?”

The president was drilling down to the heart of the problem, and she was putting West into a box. He realized that there was no way to get out of it without stating the obvious.

“I regret to say that I think that is the best option, for the time being.”

“You’re kidding me?!” Weston asked.

West didn’t look like he was kidding. He looked deadpan.

“I wish I was,” he responded, looking the president square in her eyes.

He continued, “Until we can determine a way to keep laser-connected drones from communicating with one another, then there really isn’t much we can do to stop them from penetrating the White House grounds. I’m sure we will come up with a solution, but it will take some time. In the meantime, we request you don’t walk outside without guards at your side. But, we would prefer you don’t walk outside at all.”

The president appeared anxious and angry.

“It is unacceptable to be a prisoner in the land of the free. I refuse to spend the remainder of my term indoors.”

West nodded his head in understanding, but he knew that this was a new level of protocol that would be enforced, not only for this president, but also for presidents to follow. It was like Kennedy being shot in his convertible-style limousine. Never again did a president ride in a limo without its top up. West liked to look at the positive side of things. Hail had pointed out a major flaw in White House security. And he had done so before the president’s life or anyone else under Secret Service protection was jeopardized.

West was upset that Hail had put him in this objectionable situation, but he was grateful that it happened with Hail and not an armed drone flown by a terrorist.

Frustrated, the president told West, “That will be all,” and the man stood and exited the room without further comment.