Final Winter

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘General Bocks has been very cooperative in the past in helping us move assets from parts of the world where traditional air service is under constant surveillance. Air cargo doesn’t get the kind of scrutiny that the typical airlines receive.’

Brian said with a smile that made her shiver for a moment, ‘Care to say what you mean by assets?’

She smiled right back at him. ‘Packages containing sensitive equipment. And, on a few occasions, packages that contained sensitive people.’

Monty said, ‘Can it be done? Adrianna, do you think you can do it?’

She looked at each and every one of them and said, ‘Yes, I do. I really do.’ She took a breath. ‘Victor, I’m going to need a timetable of when the canisters will be available to be shipped, and where they can be picked up. Darren, I need the latest information you have on the traffic analysis and intercepts of the anthrax attack teams. Monty, come up with a briefing on border security and the hunt for the Syrians, and what recommendations I need to bring to our border people. Brian, give me a recommendation of how we can bring in local law enforcement to look for the attack teams without word getting out.’

Adrianna yawned suddenly, which caused the men to laugh — a good sound. She looked at her watch and said, ‘I’ll need this information by eleven p.m. At midnight I’ll be making a presentation to the Director. And tomorrow…Tuesday, right? Right. Tuesday, I want this place empty. You’re all going to take the day off, all of you — and that includes me as well — because we need to come back to work rested and refreshed. It’s going to be one long fucking haul to do this right.’

Adrianna stood up, her legs no longer shaking, her stance firm and strong, and she said, ‘Thank you. Thank you all for your work. You can’t even begin to understand how much this means to me.’

And then she turned aside to hide the expression on her face.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The meeting of the Tiger Team leaders took place in the basement of an obscure building on the outskirts of Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland. The conference room’s main table was long and the mood was somber as Adrianna took her seat and looked up at the Director sitting at the other end, overseeing the twelve Tiger Team leaders, all of whom sat still and quiet, their laptops open in front of them. He had once been a Deputy Director of her own agency — a former colonel in the US Army Special Forces — promoted after a tour of duty in Afghanistan in that bitter fall of 2001. Outside Kandahar he had lost most of his left leg to a Soviet-era land mine, and had been tapped to head the Tiger Teams after his recovery. It was midnight and coffee, tea, doughnuts and juice drinks had been placed on a table in the corner of the room, but nobody was eating, nobody was drinking. It seemed to Adrianna that the mood in the room tonight just didn’t go with people munching goodies.

The Tiger Team leader sitting closest to the Director was an older woman from the National Reconnaissance Office, whose name Adrianna had already forgotten and whose hands were quivering as she presented her report. She had been stationed at the facility in Connecticut, and was the senior surviving officer from yesterday’s assault. Though her hands shook as she went through her report, her voice was clear and to the point. The terrorist had gained entrance by moving quicker than anyone had anticipated. The female security officer on the ground floor had apparently just returned from a bathroom break when the terrorist entered. The personnel on the ground floor also did not respond in time to the assault, though the alarm system should have been activated. Due to a security breach that was still being investigated, the terrorist had had the proper keypad authorization to use the elevator to descend to the lower level, where he had been shot by one of the personnel on that floor who had responded to the alarm activation.

Adrianna joined in the discussion with the other Tiger Team members, being careful not to probe too deeply or too forcefully. She knew that she was going to be in for a rough time of it later, and wanted to save her energy and her voice for then. The other Tiger Team leaders persistently and quietly interrogated the National Reconnaissance Office woman, and when the questions finally dribbled away she gave a quick glance of thankfulness to the Director that her ordeal in the conference room had ended.

The Director said, ‘Jonathan . .

A heavyset man with a thick, black beard streaked with gray spoke up from the other end of the table. ‘Sir?’

‘I want your team to take the lead investigating the intelligence failure that led to the Connecticut facility being breached, and summarize the lessons to be learned. Within twenty-four hours, I want a directive to all Tiger Teams with your recommendations for increasing security without decreasing operational effectiveness. Understood?’

‘Perfectly, sir.’