The Planner

Chapter Thirteen: Oklahoma

Planner and Bates exited with large bags from their Chevrolet Suburban limo on the runway of Tinker Air Force base. Early morning and high cloud allowed the temperature to be comfortable, hardly any warmer than their air-conditioned SUV limo. Flat in all directions with the smoky mountains in the distance, the most dominant item in their immediate landscape was the rear view of a four-engined, jumbo jet. The jet looked just like a Boeing 747, the big hump at the front was the characteristic feature of the 747 air frame. That hump was a second story to the plane occupied by the flight crew and, if it were a civilian aircraft, the first class passengers. The plane was all white except for a blue stripe down the fuselage; there were no other markings.

Greeting them was Colonel Purple, easily identifiable by the uniform and purple colored badge on his chest covering the usual military name tag.

“Sir!” saluted Purple.

“Colonel,” greeted Planner warmly, shaking his hand.

Purple took one of their bags and lead them past an armed security guard standing on the runway, over to the jumbo jet.

“I hope you were not delayed too long at security,” said Purple.

“It took an hour. Full bag search,” stated Bates sardonically.

“That’s privileged treatment. Most people have it worse. The security is tight around here. It’s because of this plane. The E4-B National Emergency Airborne Command Post¹¹³, or as we call it, the Knee-Cap,” stated Purple proudly.

“I thought it was called the Doomsday Plane,” said Planner.

“Yes, in the newspapers,” said Purple. “Not a bad name for it, all things considered. It’s hardened against EMP, the electro-magnetic pulse that nuclear bombs emit. Most aircrafts’ electronics, come a nuclear war would be fried by EMP, by the Knee-Cap would still be flying.”

“Are we going straight onboard? I thought we’d be briefed beforehand,” said Planner.

“Straight onboard. No need to use any other facility. This aircraft has everything you’ll need. Plus it’s the most secure office conferencing facilities this side of the Cheyenne Mountains,” boasted Purple.

Purple led Planner and Bates up a rear set of stairs on the port side.

Once inside, Purple started a tour of the aircraft. “The mission crew use this rear door. There’s a forward door for V.I.Ps, but that’s rarely used, even by the Secretary of Defense.”

“How many people does it carry?” asked Bates.

“The E4-B can carry over one hundred crew members, although generally we fly with about 50. So this section is the galley; help-yourself-service mainly although there are stewards too. There’s bathrooms back there. Shower facilities, which are essential; Exercises can last a week with no touchdown. We run out of food after that!”

“A week!?” exclaimed Bates.

“In flight refuelled?” asked Planner.

“Naturally. It takes two KC-135 tankers to top up its tanks. And they’re needed every 12 hours,” said Purple, leading them through to corridor running the length of the starboard side. Purple lead Planner and Bates into the first large room, the Rest Area. Purple drops the bag he was carrying into a luggage rack and invited Planner and Bates to do the same. The room had about 40 seats arranged like an airliner on one side and bunks on the far side.

“This is the rest room. In-flight entertainment, just like an airliner. But over here, for a good night’s sleep, bunk beds!”

He then led them into the next room, small with sound-dampening insulation, where 8 people could sit in cramped conditions surrounded by electronics. A mid-twenties officer was sitting in one of the seats. He had a browny-yellow badge.

He stood to attention as they entered and salutes, “Sir!”

“This is Captain Ochre, in charge of communications,” said Purple returning the salute. “This is the Communication Room: telephony and radio. All channelled by satellite communication through the bump on the roof. Then it goes out to aircraft, ground, even to submarines. Not just voice but video and data. We collect data from AWACS, satellites, U2s, radar, well everywhere really. Even CNN.”

Bates and Planner shook Ochre’s hand.

Purple led Planner and Bates along the corridor into the next room, the Command Room. In the middle of the area, were six groups of desks for four people each with four computer screens. There were another 4 computer screens on the back wall, 28 positions in all. There were 3 uniformed men relaxing in the room, with Magenta, Orange and Blue tags. They stood and saluted. Purple saluted back without introducing them.

“This is the main command room, tactical display, computers… There’s an E4-B ready 24 hours a day, 365 days a year,” said Purple to Planner and Bates. “There’s four of them and usually permanently manned, just like a ship!”

“Why is it permanently manned?” asked Bates.

Purple said in hushed tones, “The computer systems are rated Top Secret, containing every military plan and option available. We need to stop any possibility of tampering. Basically they contain the DoD’s crown jewels. So there is always someone onboard except during major overhauls.”

Resuming his tour voice, Purple said, pointing at different work stations, “Flight monitoring, over here. Comms monitoring here. The drone team will be here. And the ground contact team over there. The area in the middle, this is where I expect you’ll be sitting during the Big Event.”

“Really?” Bates seemed surprised.

“Well, we’re planning on imitating four aircraft. We’re going to be busy,” said Planner.

“Can’t we do most of that from the ground?” said Bates.

Purple spoke paternally to Bates, “I don’t suppose you appreciate the number of plane spotters and amateur radio hams out there that would hone in on any fake transmissions emanating from a single spot. All our spoofing has to come from the air if you want any form of credibility.”

Bates pulled a face. Purple spun on his heels and left the room.

Planner said to Bates, “Welcome to Spoof-Central.”

* * * *

Purple led Planner and Bates into the E4-B’s empty Briefing Room.

Purple announced, “Large conference room and briefing room. You can squeeze forty people in here. You may need to, for this op.”

Through a door at the back, they entered the smaller conference room, which was only slightly smaller but designed for about 8 people in some comfort. On the walls, there are lockers containing equipment, mission plans, and a variety of other luxuries.

“This is the strategic conference room. This will be our office for most of this week. Forward of this is accommodation for Secretary of Defense, or the President, but the President generally prefers to fly on Air-Force-One. In any case, it’s off limits to us mere mortals. Above us, on the second floor, are the pilots, engineers and navigators. They actually have been sealed off. They won’t know a thing about the actual mission; they just fly the plane along a planned route. They have their own beds and canteen up there.”

“Below us,” Purple banged his feet, “are stores and the MJU-32 anti-aircraft missile defences. We don’t go down there either. That’s about it. Or rather, as much as I know.”

“Phew. I suspect this costs quite a few tax dollars,” observed Bates.

“$250 million. Plus running costs… about $80million a year. For each one,” said Purple.

“And Air Force One? That’s another aircraft type?” asked Bates.

“Oh yes. There are actually two Air Force Ones, Boeing 747-VC-25s¹¹⁴. The four E4-Bs look similar, 747 airframes, but they have different functions. Similar costs though,” said Purple.

“Thanks very much, Colonel,” said Planner. “That’s been most enlightening.”

Purple smiled and walked over to a locker and opened it via a combination lock, “Ok. That’s enough of the guided tour. Let’s look at the flight plans and perhaps this afternoon we can start the exercise?”

As he was laying out papers and maps from the locker, there was a knock on the door.

Purple looked up and smiled, “Ah-ha. The other key member of the crew…”

The door opened and a fully uniformed, older officer walked in. Planner recognised his face, but out-of-context, he struggled to recall who he was.

But there was no such problem for Bates, “Colonel Nicholas!” he said enthusiastically.

“Hello, Rainbow Team,” Nicholas smiled. “You looked surprised.”

“I guess I am,” said Planner. “Pleasantly so!”

“Colonel Purple and myself arranged this some time ago. We knew this would be the best place to be, come the Big Event,” he said.

“Welcome back, Colonel. Glad you could make it,” beamed Purple.

* * * *

The four of them poured over the draft flight plans and timelines, finally agreeing the flight plans, of the E4-B, the airliners, the drones and chase planes.

The two Colonels took the pencil drawn plans back to the Command Room for the draft flight plans to be entered into the computer. That way they could run a variety of simulations to check the reactions of USAF and capacities at key airfields.

Soon after that the remainder of the Rainbow Team with the notable exception of Turq, entered the E4-B. There was a mix of some 30 people: 20 male, 10 female, some military, some casually dressed, a couple in suits. As they entered the Rest Room, they were handed a thick document from Captain Ochre. The team dispersed around the aircraft reading the material, making notes and highlighting sections.

Colonel Purple gave a briefing to the team in the Briefing Room, covering basic etiquette on the E-4B and the objectives of their first flight.

All the team had been trained individually on each of the computer systems and communication headsets. All the team, that is, except Bates and Planner, this was their time to learn. For the rest of the team the mission was basic familiarity and to come together as a team; to “gel”.

* * * *

Bates took the opportunity while the aircraft was on the ground to use the Large Conference Room to give a presentation on the back-story. About thirty people squeezed into the briefing room. On a back projected screen, he displayed portraits of the hijackers with short profile details as text below. He used a laser pointer to pick particular characteristics and was able to make quite a few jokes around some of the subtlety of details arranged in the back-story.

The Rainbow Team called out information from their own research of the Rainbow Actors actions and known locations to bolster the narrative.

The plane engines started up. They all found a seat: color coordinated, of course, and prepared for take off.

Due to its reduced passenger count and weight compared to a commercial 747, the E4-B felt smooth and agile on take-off.

Once airborne and at cruising altitude, Colonel Purple lead Planner and Bates into the Command Room. Lieutenant Orange, a fresh-faced, thirty year old, explained the radar picture on a large, flat-screened computer display.

Planner pulled a face when he found out that Bates did not understand anything about transponder codes or what they implied. So Orange explained it to him.

“Have you heard of IFF,” asked Orange to Bates.

Bates frowned; he had not.

“Identification Friend of Foe¹¹⁵. It was devised in the second world war to identified radar blips as either one of ours or one of theirs,” he explained patiently.

“Right,” Bates apologetically. “Yes, I had heard of that.”

“Well a transponder code is the same sort of thing. A radar sweeps around radiating RF waves. These waves hit an aircraft. Onboard they have a device, called a transponder, which then transmits back a particular type of radio wave. That’s interpreted by the receiving system as a four-digit code and that’s the transponder code,” said Orange. “It also provides extra data, particularly the altitude of the aircraft, most radars can’t work out height so they get the information from the aircraft itself.”

“That four digit code… that’s the same as the Squawk Code?” suggested Bates.

“Yep, same thing. So it’s just a number coming back from the aircraft. It’s those four digits that are displayed on the radar picture below the track symbol,” said Orange.

Bates nodded.

“Ok, here’s where it gets complicated. Because an enemy can spoof these numbers, there are military bands that encrypt the number,” said Orange. “So we can tell whether they are friendly, hostile or civilian. And we color code them on-screen: Blue tracks are other friendly military aircraft. Green tracks are civilian airliners. Red tracks are hostiles, tracks that are not returning any valid transponder codes, flash red and yellow.”

“So they are easy to spot,” said Bates.

“Yeah, that’s the point. Even Red tracks could just be a problem with their equipment; at least you know where they are. But no code at all, well they’re dangerous no matter what the situation. Potential for mid-air collision.”

“So how do you spot aircraft with no transponder,” asked Bates.

“Well, the computer does it. Autotracking, is the term. It used to be done by the Mark One Eyeball,” he said pointing to his eye. “Ok. When I press this button,” Orange pressed a button and all the blue tracks disappeared on his radar screen, “This is what the FAA sees: just green and red tracks. But not blue tracks and not red/yellow tracks.”

“It cuts out the military picture,” said Planner.

“Right,” said Orange and pressing another button, “but we will be seeing the military picture, we will be seeing this picture, blue tracks, red and red/yellow. As you can see, quite empty in comparison.”

“A couple of things confuse me,” sighed Bates, “how does the FAA see aircraft with no transponders?”

“Well, they don’t. If the FAA needs to track an aircraft with no transponder the track is manually selected by NORAD and passed through to them over a data gateway. The same gateway where we plan to pass dummy data during the Big Event.”

Bates nodded, “And how do military aircraft see civilian aircraft?”

“Oh we can always see them, here,” and Orange pressed a button and the green tracks reappeared. “It’s just a way of de-cluttering the screen. There’s collision detection software running continuously to alert of any hazard.”

“The clever stuff, hey, Orange, do you want to tell him?” said Planner. “About dead reckoning?”

“No, I’ll let you, Sir,” smiled Orange.

“The clever stuff, is that these tracks persist when there is no radar cover and no transponder returns,” Planner said with a smile.

“I don’t follow,” said Bates.

“The tracks exist in the database and they are updated using the last known information in the computer: speed direction altitude. The computer predicts where the aircraft is going to be using Newton’s laws of motion. Even when there is no radar cover,” said Planner.

“So this provides the space where a airliner can be replaced by a drone?” said Bates cautiously.

“Hole-in-one, Bates,” smiled Planner. “The blip on the ATC screen is just the computer’s best guess.”

“And there’s just one further thing,” said Orange.

Bates and Planner looked back at him, worried.

“It’s not so easy to see on this display, but see this light blue circle?” Orange pointed to the radar screen. “In the centre of that circle is an AWACS aircraft¹¹⁶. You know what an AWACS is, right?”

“It’s a flying radar?” said Bates uncertainly.

“Right, so we have an entirely separate radar picture, not shared with NORAD and the FAA, just for us on a separate communications network running at secret level. We’ll have three AWACS flying on missions many miles away, on their own training mission. Each AWACS only sees their own returns. Only we get to see the fully compiled big picture.”

“The big radar picture,” offered Planner.

“Right,” said Orange.

“So not even NORAD will know what’s going on?” asked Bates.

“Not even NORAD. Actually, since we’re inserting fake tracks, they will be in absolute fog,” smiled Orange.

“The fog of war,” joked Planner.

* * * *

A late lunch was served in the Rest Area by burly uniformed military men, with tattoos on their arms, but still with the same civility expected from a commercial flight.

For the rest of the flight, Bates and Planner learnt how to use and comprehend the radar consoles. They were able to watch and listen to the radio communication from an AWACS perform routine monitoring of aircraft flying into the USA from the south. According to radio reports, two of the aircraft were identified as smuggling drugs.

At sunset, they flew in formation alongside an AWACS at 25,000feet. It flew within half a mile, much closer than you would ever see a civilian aircraft in normal operations. An AWACS aircraft is based on the Boeing 707 airframe, but on top of the rear fuselage supported a saucer shaped disk, 30 foot in diameter. Planner and Bates saw it out of the windows along the starboard corridor with a red sunset behind. It would have made a nice picture.

They had flown almost to Cuba and back that day.

* * * *

Several days of intensive flying and training later, Planner returned to his allotted officer accommodation at Tinker Air Base. In an attempt to recover from his tiredness, Planner splashed cold water on his face, and then performed his usual ritual with the cell phone. He inserted a new Sim-Card into his cell phone and dialled a number.

“It’s Robert,” he said.

“You missed our scheduled call yesterday,” said the old man smoothly but clearly indicating some irritation.

“Many apologises, Sir. We were in the air all day and all night.”

“All night?”

“In flight refuelled; In the air all of yesterday and all of today,” said Planner.

“Impressive. Let me know if this might happen again. As you can imagine, we have many very nervous stakeholders in this operation. They like to be kept informed.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“Good. And progress?”

“We’ve refined the scenarios and have covered the Big Event and side shows. We have worked through all expected scenarios and have demonstrated that we are fully flexible with pre-recorded transmissions, live transmissions, disruption mechanisms and have established over-ride protocols. As you know all communications from other Stage B operations will be routed through our command center. We’ve tested that. We have total visibility and control of the air picture, no-one else will. All ground operation teams are green, although they need a final push next weekend to make everything ready.”

“So the contingency plans? Any need for the simulations?”

“No, no need for the contingency plans. We will work with the cruise missile for the first target, to save money, as agreed, and so need the first video rendered. I presume the computer graphics work on the second target is still progressing?”

“Yes, still progressing even though it will not be required from the sounds of it.”

“Right,” confirmed Planner. “It will not be required.”

“Good. And the news media?”

“We have Gatekeepers in place at the big six TV channels. They’ve all been briefed. Operation Las Vegas has additional people on the ground ready to promote our story.”

“Communications?”

“We’ll be using the Special Routing Arrangement Service¹¹⁷, to ensure the COG are kept informed with reliable information,” stated Planner.

“So are we ready to go?”

“We’ve planned it, simulated it, rehearsed it and now tested it. We have just one final test with the drones. It’s a formality. We are ready to go.”

“Any loose ends? I know that you worry about them.”

“There’s bound to be some. I’ll tidy up the ones I find as we go, as best I can,” said Planner smoothly.

The Lodge Master sounded delighted, “That’s the spirit, Robert. Very good. I’ll make sure everything has the all-clear. Stage B will be initiated.”