Inside Out

20

Ward Field, Virginia

The King Air 300 sat in the center of the cavernous hangar illuminated by a bank of quartz lights. Herman Hoffman surveyed the work in progress while the six members of his assault team stood nearby watching him. Even though he was worn out from the flight to the staging area, Herman took several minutes to study the craft's modifications, inspecting how the tubes and wires had been expertly rerouted. This was the level of craftsmanship he expected from his people, but he admired how rapidly they could accomplish their tasks and maintain the quality. When the trapdoor was closed, the belly of the plane would appear to be normal, but it would have a lot in common with military bombers.

“Perfection,” he declared, clapping his hands together. The compliment was met with smiles. It was the first thing he had said since he walked into the hangar twenty minutes earlier. “As always.”

He moved over to a line of folding tables and reviewed the hardware. As he passed the assembled articles, he touched and straightened here and there-a fastidious shopkeeper inspecting his merchandise in preparation for opening the doors to customers.

He ran his finger along a kilo block of Semtex. Moving to the next table, he hoisted up one of the sleek MP5-SD machine guns, admiring the balance, the noise suppressor. He selected a magazine from a stack of forty and pressed it into the opening, drew the bolt back, and released it. He flipped the safety off and set the selector switch to automatic. Using the laser-aiming device, he pointed the weapon at a fifty-gallon barrel, positioning the red dot on the target someone had taped to it. When he squeezed the trigger there was a sound very much like quails taking wing, accompanied by the tinkling of the empty brass shell casings as they landed on the concrete floor. Sand poured to the floor from the holes in the drum.

Herman handed the weapon to Ralph as though he was his caddy. “Please, carry on,” Herman said, cheerfully.

Within seconds the hangar was filled with the sound of his men at work, which to Herman's ears was as comforting as classical music.