Prey

Chapter Eighteen

Command Sergeant Major Clarence MacDonald had spent the better part of his thirty-two years in the United States Army helping to train Green Beret teams to reconnoiter, stalk, and kill their enemies with weapons that ranged from bare hands, rocks, wire, knives, and silenced firearms to far more sophisticated laser-guided rockets and miniaturized nuclear ordnance.

The men who graduated from his courses were considered to be some of the most skillful, creative, and deadly soldiers that the world had ever known, and they had been demonstrating the effectiveness of their training in remote battlefields throughout the world for the past two decades.

But aside from the British Army's Special Air Service Squadrons in general, and perhaps three or four Special Forces teams that he could remember specifically, MacDonald was convinced that he had never addressed a group of individuals whose expertise in weaponry, tactics, communications, reconnaissance, intelligence gathering, logistics, demolitions, guerrilla warfare, and hand-to-hand combat had come even close to that of the ICER assault group that sat before him in this underground conference room.

And for perhaps the first time in as far back as he could remember, MacDonald was standing before a man whose lethal skills in one-on-one combat situations were rumored to match, or possibly to even exceed, his own. As MacDonald gazed calmly into the pale eyes of Assault Group Leader Gerd Maas, however, he felt only professional curiosity, and even pleasant anticipation. In truth, he was looking forward to finding out for himself if the eye-opening reports and evaluations on Gerd Maas had any basis in reality.

At precisely 1930 hours, MacDonald stepped up to the raised podium that faced twenty-four padded theater chairs arranged on an upwardly sloping six-by-four grid. He stared out across the brightly lit room at the members of the assault group, all of whom were dressed in mountain-camouflaged military fatigues.

MacDonald noted immediately that one member of the Japanese contingent, Dr. Morito Asai, was missing.

"Gentlemen, and ladies," he added in deference to the three woman who comprised one quarter of the ICER assault group, "it is my pleasure to welcome you to the Whitehorse Cabin Training Center. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Clarence MacDonald, and as some of you are aware, I am privileged to hold the rank of command sergeant major in the United States Army."

MacDonald scanned the eleven alert faces.

"Some of you I know from previous training sessions. The rest of you are familiar to me only by the information in your personnel files. But I want to begin this session by making certain that one thing is absolutely clear. I am not here as your training sergeant, but rather, as your host."

MacDonald paused for effect.

"It is clear that the United States Government has gone to a great deal of effort to recruit and equip a top-notch counterterrorist team. Why this team has been established, and who your targets will be, has not been revealed to me. And I would emphasize the fact that such information is not of any concern or interest to the Whitehorse Cabin training staff.

"According to your records," MacDonald went on, "each one of you possesses an incredible amount of training and practical experience, both as a field operative and as an instructor. It is also apparent that you are well versed in general field operations, and that you each make the effort to maintain a high level of proficiency in your own area of expertise. Therefore, in my view," MacDonald said in his quiet but firm voice, "it would be a waste of time to provide a training course for you in the classical sense. Instead, we intend to make ourselves available to do three specific things.

"First of all," MacDonald raised a single callused finger, "we will provide you with the resources necessary for each of you to maintain and enhance your own personal skills.

"Second"-he raised a second finger-"we will provide a series of simulated exercises that will enhance your ability to function as a team against a wide range of tactical situations.

"And finally," MacDonald said as he brought up the third finger, "we will provide individualized instruction with respect to specific weapons, techniques or tactics to meet the individual needs of you and your team leaders."

MacDonald paused momentarily to note that Gerd Maas was staring at him expressionlessly.

"To my far right is Master Gunnery Sergeant Gary Brickard. Sergeant Brickard will be your range master. He is also in charge of this facility in my absence. His special area of expertise is simulated combat situations, utilizing multimedia displays and robotics."

MacDonald scanned the eleven faces of his audience once more, noting that even Maas seemed to be intrigued by the idea of robotics.

"Sergeant Brickard and I have a great deal of experience in using live-fire exercises to teach rapid-strike entries and small-squad tactics. Our goal will be to provide all of you with appropriate simulations that force you to extend your capabilities to their maximum effectiveness while working in conjunction with other members of your team.

"In effect, we intend to keep your skills honed to a state of readiness that will allow you to respond to a tactical situation at a moment's notice."

MacDonald paused to look around the room once more. "Before I go on, are there any questions?"

Much to MacDonald's surprise, Gerd Maas raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Maas?"

"Sergeant MacDonald," Maas said in his typical cold, gruff voice, "I am most impressed by the quality of this facility and the thoughtfulness of your planning. However, I was told this morning that we must accelerate our preparations. Therefore, I must know how soon you and your staff can be available to us."

"Starting tomorrow morning, Sergeant Brickard and I, along with the rest of the staff, will be at your disposal in these facilities from oh-seven hundred to twenty-one hundred hours, seven days a week. Meals are normally scheduled at oh-six hundred, twelve hundred, and eighteen hundred hours. At your request, with appropriate notice, we can be available at any other time of the day or night."

"And what do you consider appropriate notice?" Maas asked.

"Twenty minutes to shower and shave would be appreciated," MacDonald said matter-of-factly. "However, a knock on any one of our doors would be sufficient."

"One more question," Gerd Maas said. "Perhaps you could comment on the security of these facilities?"

"I was about to get to that," MacDonald nodded as he stepped back behind the podium.

"It is obvious that the United States Government has placed a very high value on your readiness quotient. I say that because over the past eight months, my staff and I have been allowed to spend approximately eighty-seven million dollars to create what I can honestly tell you is one of the finest covert training facilities I have ever seen."

With motions that suggested an intimate knowledge of his equipment, MacDonald moved his callused right hand across the podium's control panel, causing the room to gradually darken. A sixteen-by-twenty-foot back-lit screen behind the podium lit up with a colorful graphics display.

"As you can see from the first slide," MacDonald said, "the training facilities are located a hundred yards east of the main cabin and are connected to that cabin by three underground tunnels, two of which are reserved for utilities and supply transport. The third tunnel will be your access route to and from the facilities."

MacDonald used a small hand-held transmitter to advance to the next slide.

"The facility is constructed around a two-story, twelve- inch, steel box-beam frame. The walls are eight inches thick, constructed of precast tilt-up slabs of hardened and reinforced concrete that are welded to the frame. The floors are similarly constructed, but are twelve inches thick and have much more extensive reinforcement. The lower level has sixteen feet of clearance from floor to ceiling, and the upper level has thirty-two. The top ceiling is made up of thirty-six inches of reinforced concrete and six inches of armor plating. The entire facility is buried beneath twelve feet of soil.

"In effect," MacDonald smiled, "we have provided you with a facility that is virtually impervious to anything short of a nuclear strike. Presumably, such precautions will not be necessary."

There was an appreciative murmur of approval and amusement from the ICER team.

The next slide had apparently been taken from the air.

"As you can see, we have constructed extensive outdoor recreational facilities above the complex. These facilities consist of four tennis courts, four sand volleyball courts, eight racquetball courts, two basketball courts, a hundred- meter pool, a clubhouse, and locker-room facilities that include showers, rest rooms, and a weight room. You will, of course, have full use of these facilities at any time.

"More important, however, aside from the connecting tunnels, the only way in or out of the Training Center is either through the access tunnel to the helipad, or the alarmed fire-escape tunnel that exits through a separate and secured underground corridor connecting the clubhouse and locker room. The escape corridors and stairwells are external to the primary building structure, and the outer blast doors are designed to withstand the impact of a HEAT-tank round. They are also coded to your fingerprints, and open only from the inside.

"Getting back to the underground portion of the Center," MacDonald said as he advanced to the next slide, "the entire training facility is based around two hexagonal conference rooms with fifty-foot side-wall dimensions that are built on top of each other. We, of course, are now in the upper conference room."

The next slide showed a blowup of the lower floor, with subdivided rectangles of varying lengths radiating out from all six sides of the two central six-sided rooms.

"Here, on the lower floor," MacDonald went on, using a light beam as a pointer, "we have the command-and-control room, armory, machine shop, ammo bunkers, mechanical room, secured tunnel access to the main cabin, instructors' quarters, student quarters, medical facilities, multimedia room, emergency food and supply storage, rest-room and shower facilities, gym and dojo.

"By the way," MacDonald said, diverting from his planned lecture for a moment, "you will be moving this evening from your rooms in the main cabin to the underground student quarters. Your new rooms will be comparable in terms of creature comforts and, of course, more secure. As you surely know, your presence here at the Center is a closely guarded secret. Should you want to wander about in the local wilderness or avail yourselves of the recreational facilities up on top, you will be provided with appropriate Park Service clothing.

"Now then," MacDonald said, returning to his lecture as he advanced the projector once again, "as you can see, on the upper floor we have three Hogan's Alleys with extensive robotics, one commercially oriented, one residential, and one designed to simulate an assault on a small mountain cabin.

"In addition," MacDonald went on, using his light pointer, "we also have two fixed-wing and two helicopter simulators, a chemical-weapons compound, a fifty-yard pistol range, a hundred-yard small-arms range with multiple weather and lighting conditions, and a five-hundred-yard-long gun range with variable cross-wind capability.

"And if that isn't sufficient, ladies and gentlemen," MacDonald said as he turned off the projector and brought the room lights back up, "we will be happy to take you outdoors into several thousand acres of our nation's finest wilderness and see what we can do to make your lives both miserable and interesting."

Standing ramrod straight, MacDonald looked around the room one last time. "That completes my introductory presentation. Are there any questions?"

Gerd Maas raised his hand.

"You described the physical security of this facility in great detail, but you did not indicate the presence of any other security personnel."

"Yes, that's correct," MacDonald nodded. "In view of your 'need-to- know' security requirements, it was decided that we should try to keep the number of personnel at the Center to a minimum."

"I would not argue with that decision," Maas said. "However-"

"As you may recall from the slides," MacDonald interrupted, "the instructors' quarters are adjacent to the secured tunnel access. My staff and I have agreed to take responsibility for security. Quite frankly, Mr. Maas-" the burly command sergeant major smiled, "-if the six of us and the twelve members of the ICER assault group cannot deal with any security problem that might arise at Whitehorse Cabin, I think we have no business being here in the first place."

Maas nodded his head in apparent agreement.

"Any other questions?"

The tall, blond-haired man sitting next to Maas raised his hand.

MacDonald immediately recognized the man as Gunter Aben, the one who had been described in the files as a born killing machine. Barely controllable. Tends to be malicious under stress. Known to be adverse to discipline. Extreme caution advised.

Clarence MacDonald had been looking forward to working with Gunter Aben ever since he had read his file.

"Yes, Mr. Aben?"

"Only one question, Sergeant Major. Would it be possible to see a demonstration of your robotics this evening?"

MacDonald smiled in spite of himself.

"We can do better than that. If you and the other members of your group will follow Sergeant Brickard down to the armory"-he looked at his watch-"in about forty-five minutes, we will formally introduce you to a few of the more devious and persistent members of our training staff."