likewise his assistant, likewise anybody else Cundieffe recognized from the field office. Each of the players present sat alone, sans the inevitable delegation that accreted around them. Dark suits meshed with the murky shadows, pale faces and winking insignia floated like a banquet of ghosts, feasting on secrets.
Cundieffe took a seat beside Wyler, who slid the report back to him and nodded gravely. "Marty," he whispered, "have you ever heard of a criminal investigation being run by the victim?"
"Excuse me, sir? No—I haven't."
"You have now."
The last few filed in and took their places at the two long tables spanning the conference room, and the Marine shut the door. There were only six civilians to the military's nine. Rear Admiral Wayne Meinsen leaned on the podium, his wattled jaw propped on one hand.
"What you're about to hear has been passed on to the Joint Chiefs and Pentagon Intelligence only an hour ago, gentlemen. The SAC of this field office has been briefed, and is en route to Washington to sit in on the executive conference with the FBI director. The President hasn't been notified yet, and, God willing, he'll never have to tell the people about it, because we're going to fix it.
"Four hours ago, a security breach occurred at our China Lake Weapons Station. Due to the, ah, unorthodox nature of the incident and the limited intelligence gathered so far, this briefing will be more rumor control than anything else. Here are the facts, such as they are.
"At oh-one hundred hours exactly, station radar picked up a MH-60 Seahawk helicopter on approach. The pilot correctly identified itself to security at the storage quadrant of the station, and proceeded to instruct for an impromptu inspection. The duty officer logged the request, as well as the order that the senior CO not be notified. Five minutes later, he logged a visual on two helicopters on final approach: a Black Hawk and another that he identified only as 'Russian'. That is his last entry. Shortly thereafter, the security measures and monitors and the entire staff of the station were incapacitated by a weapon of undetermined nature. For the next hour, we have only deductive intelligence about what went on inside."
Chatter boiled up among the officers, hardened career military and intelligence men all. Cundieffe kept his mouth shut, but his mind was spinning several feet above his poker-faced skull. Hostile invasion of a domestic military base. It exceeded the most audacious scheme ever cooked up by the militia-prone braggarts he monitored.
Wyler surprised him by interrupting the already aggravated Admiral. "No corroborative visual fix on the helicopters. No security video. And they used your own codes to get in."
Oliver Froud, Naval Intelligence, cut the Admiral off, this time. "The second helicopter did not register on radar at all, and neither of them showed up when they took off. We haven't determined the cause of that. No active satellites were over the base during the occupation, and nothing showed up on the shots taken just after we knew something was wrong. All internal security measures were disabled in the security center, and incoming security checks were intercepted. All the tapes were bulk-erased. The clearance codes used to approach the base were previously thought to be uncompromised."
More mumbling. Cundieffe caught the smile behind his boss's hand. "No casualties, either?" Wyler asked. "I thought softkill technology—"
"Please, please, hold your questions. No, there were no direct casualties. As near as we can tell, the base was saturated with some kind of electromagnetic field which disabled the entire garrison of eighty men, and all electronic equipment in a two square mile area. All of them experienced seizures and unconsciousness, but no other ill effects. One man fell down a flight of stairs and broke his leg. Another man bit off his tongue. The first response team on the scene swept the area for chemical and bioweapons agents,
Cundieffe took a seat beside Wyler, who slid the report back to him and nodded gravely. "Marty," he whispered, "have you ever heard of a criminal investigation being run by the victim?"
"Excuse me, sir? No—I haven't."
"You have now."
The last few filed in and took their places at the two long tables spanning the conference room, and the Marine shut the door. There were only six civilians to the military's nine. Rear Admiral Wayne Meinsen leaned on the podium, his wattled jaw propped on one hand.
"What you're about to hear has been passed on to the Joint Chiefs and Pentagon Intelligence only an hour ago, gentlemen. The SAC of this field office has been briefed, and is en route to Washington to sit in on the executive conference with the FBI director. The President hasn't been notified yet, and, God willing, he'll never have to tell the people about it, because we're going to fix it.
"Four hours ago, a security breach occurred at our China Lake Weapons Station. Due to the, ah, unorthodox nature of the incident and the limited intelligence gathered so far, this briefing will be more rumor control than anything else. Here are the facts, such as they are.
"At oh-one hundred hours exactly, station radar picked up a MH-60 Seahawk helicopter on approach. The pilot correctly identified itself to security at the storage quadrant of the station, and proceeded to instruct for an impromptu inspection. The duty officer logged the request, as well as the order that the senior CO not be notified. Five minutes later, he logged a visual on two helicopters on final approach: a Black Hawk and another that he identified only as 'Russian'. That is his last entry. Shortly thereafter, the security measures and monitors and the entire staff of the station were incapacitated by a weapon of undetermined nature. For the next hour, we have only deductive intelligence about what went on inside."
Chatter boiled up among the officers, hardened career military and intelligence men all. Cundieffe kept his mouth shut, but his mind was spinning several feet above his poker-faced skull. Hostile invasion of a domestic military base. It exceeded the most audacious scheme ever cooked up by the militia-prone braggarts he monitored.
Wyler surprised him by interrupting the already aggravated Admiral. "No corroborative visual fix on the helicopters. No security video. And they used your own codes to get in."
Oliver Froud, Naval Intelligence, cut the Admiral off, this time. "The second helicopter did not register on radar at all, and neither of them showed up when they took off. We haven't determined the cause of that. No active satellites were over the base during the occupation, and nothing showed up on the shots taken just after we knew something was wrong. All internal security measures were disabled in the security center, and incoming security checks were intercepted. All the tapes were bulk-erased. The clearance codes used to approach the base were previously thought to be uncompromised."
More mumbling. Cundieffe caught the smile behind his boss's hand. "No casualties, either?" Wyler asked. "I thought softkill technology—"
"Please, please, hold your questions. No, there were no direct casualties. As near as we can tell, the base was saturated with some kind of electromagnetic field which disabled the entire garrison of eighty men, and all electronic equipment in a two square mile area. All of them experienced seizures and unconsciousness, but no other ill effects. One man fell down a flight of stairs and broke his leg. Another man bit off his tongue. The first response team on the scene swept the area for chemical and bioweapons agents,
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