Skyhook

TWENTY FIVE FRIDAY MORNING, DAY 5 THE PENTAGON WASHINGTON, D.C.

Major General Mac MacAdams walked from the JCS meeting room with General Lou Cassidy after finishing the top secret briefing on the Boomerang system.

“Surprised, Mac?” Cassidy asked when they were back behind his office door.

“‘Flabbergasted’ would be a good word, Lou. I expected we’d have at least a month for the first installation, but fifty units installed within the next ten days?”

“Right from the Oval Office, Mac. Can we do it?”

Mac nodded. “Well, yes… physically. I mean, part of the planning quite a while ago was to have black boxes made up and ready to receive final circuit boards and hard drives for immediate installation.”

“Great thinking, too. I’m still impressed that you got it down to the level of such industrial simplicity, with over a year to test all the subcomponents.”

“Thanks. The parallel effort out of Wright-Patterson has been handled very efficiently. My latest count shows the entire C-l7 fleet, one hundred eighty C-141s, and all the operational C-5s have completed the hardware retrofit.”

Cassidy nodded. “Just slide the little sucker in the bracket, turn the cyberlock, and she’s operational.”

“With codes as secure as the President’s launch code.”

Cassidy nodded. “I think it was a much better idea to have the same established office that handles the nuclear codes choose the codes for Boomerang. One-stop shopping with proven security.”

“Are we ready for the bomber fleet? Do we really want to do that?”

Cassidy shook his head. “No. We have another system planned for which you have no immediate need to know.”

“Yes, sir,” Mac replied, glad that he hadn’t been handed one more weighty responsibility on the spur of the moment.

Cassidy leaned forward. “Mac, really good job in there, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re headed back to Anchorage?”

Mac nodded. “Immediately. A few loose ends have to be sewn up, including tonight’s final acceptance test, but otherwise, we’ll make it work.”

Cassidy showed him to the door, and Mac collected his aide from Cassidy’s outer office and headed down one of the maze of corridors past a portion of the Pentagon’s rebuilt western side, which had been hit in the 9/11 attacks.

Lieutenant Colonel Anderson caught his sleeve at one point. “Sir? The car will be waiting on the north side.”

“I’m going in a different car, Jon.”

“Sir?”

“You take the car you arranged. I’ll take the other one.”

“Okay. We go separately.”

“Yep,” Mac said, rather enjoying the confusion on Anderson’s face as he tried to keep up.

“If it makes a difference, sir, I did bathe and use deodorant this morning.”

“At long last!” Mac joked. “But you still can’t go with me.”

“Very well, sir. But I assume plausible deniability,” Anderson said.

Mac stopped him and turned to put a hand on his shoulder. “No. Complete deniability. Take your car, Jon. I’ll see you on board.” He started to turn away, then looked back at the colonel. “Jon, I’m pulling your chain. I’m actually going over to Arlington National to pay my respects to an old friend I lost long ago.”

“Understood, sir. I’m sorry I pressed.”

Mac watched his aide disappear in the right direction before walking to an interior courtyard driveway, where his driver was waiting. The unmarked car moved immediately into the throng of traffic around the Pentagon and smoothly accelerated to the north, pulling up to a back gate into Arlington National Cemetery a few minutes later. The guard verified the credentials the driver held up and waved them through.

Mac had visited Arlington many times during his career. Robert E. Lee’s home, the Custis-Lee Mansion, was his favorite spot, but the revered anonymity and peace that permeated Arlington was something he’d always sought.

“We’re here, sir,” the driver announced.

“Thank you. You know where to wait for pickup.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mac removed his hat and put on a light, non-uniform raincoat to hide all vestiges of a uniform.

The day was cloudy and cool, but invigorating nonetheless, and he made his way down a familiar path, stopping for a second near the Coast Guard Memorial, then proceeding to a grove of trees near the end of Dewey Drive, where a tall, blond woman in a long black coat was standing, reading the inscription of a large headstone.

Mac came up beside her quietly, reading the same headstone.

“He died the day before the Normandy landing,” Mac said quietly.

“So I see,” she replied, not looking at him.

“How are you, Lucy?”

“On a four-year-long, exhilarating, exhausting high. How about you?”

“The atmosphere isn’t as rarified as where you’ve been living, but… it’s been an interesting couple of years.”

“Is the program ready?”

Mac sighed, a thousand worries tied into one moment of decision.

“Yeah. We’re ready if we have to be. The list still the same?”

She nodded. “It is. Discovery would destroy us, Mac. We need to get it right the first time. You realize how important this is to the President personally, don’t you?”

“I believe so.”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure you fully understand the depth of his resolve.”

“The timetable?” he asked.

“It’s concurrent with the Pentagon’s schedule. I assume the plan is the same for the containers?”

“Yes. Two per crate, manifested as one, and handled the way we agreed.”

“And no problems as yet?”

“I’ve… had a few anxious moments, including this morning in Cassidy’s office, but they’ve all been containable questions, no pun intended.”

She chuckled. “Right. Good luck, Mac,” she said, turning away and strolling casually toward the adjacent roadway. Mac forced himself to stay focused on the gravesite before him, even kneeling down and putting on his reading glasses before standing and stealing a look around.

She was nowhere to be seen.

Mac checked his watch and turned to the south. He could see the car waiting at the appointed spot through the trees. With luck, they could lift off from Andrews by 11:30 A.M. local for the nearly seven-hour flight, putting them into Elmendorf at 2:30 P.M. He caught himself sighing and longing for sleep. There was a comfortable couch on the Air Force Gulfstream, and he’d have to take advantage of it, since the evening would involve some very long hours aboard an AWACS.