The Hammer of God by Tom Avitabile

Secretary.”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    Bill heard clicking sounds and then the connection hit.
    â€œBill, Brad Grayson, Deputy Secretary DHS. We have a situation in New York that could be – repeat could be – a bio-terrorism event. You are directed to monitor the situation through your White House SOP. Sir, do you concur that you have been duly notified?”
    â€œYes, but one question – who is running the operation on the ground in New York?”
    â€œThat would be S. A. Brooke Burell, JTTF.”
    â€œI know her, she’s good.”
    â€œSir, if there are no other questions, do you concur that you have been duly notified?”
    â€œYes, William Hiccock has been duly notified.”
    â€œThank you and good night, sir.” The operator then switched off his recorder and dialed the next person on his Status 2 Alert List.
    Bill redialed.
    â€œGood Evening, White House Switchboard.”
    â€œGood Evening, I am Bill Hiccock; please authenticate my identity.” A tone sounded and Bill repeated his name into the voice print recognition system. Then an automated voice said, “Acquired and authenticated, William Hiccock Science Advisor to the President.”
    â€œYes, Mr. Hiccock?”
    â€œSwitch me to signals.”
    â€œSignals, what can we do for you, Sir?”
    â€œI need to patch into the New York JTTF commander on the scene.”
    â€œRoger, standby,” said the army master sergeant who ran the signals department at the White House, the super-interconnect of the U.S. government. A President could talk to a soldier in the foxhole with this network.
    âˆžÂ§âˆž
    Special Agent in Charge Brooke Burrell was dealing with the ever-changing facts in the crime/terrorism/bio-terrorism/fugitive drama into which she had been catapulted. Her secure agency cell phone rang.
    â€œBurell, go.”
    â€œWhite House Signals Branch. I have…”
    â€œI don’t have time to talk to the White House right now…”
    â€œBrooke, it’s Bill Hiccock on the line.”
    â€œOkay, White House, I got the call.”
    The sergeant dropped out leaving a secure connection between the two participants.
    â€œBill, a local P.I. stumbled on a terrorist plot to infect some bio-weapon on U.S. soil. Very detailed plan, lots of target cities.”
    â€œHow far did they get?”
    â€œWe have seven still at large. We have nineteen on tape but it will be a few hours ‘til the tape is processed into our heads-up alert systems.
    â€œDo you have a communications van there?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œStill got the tape?”
    â€œJust about to fly it back to Manhattan H.Q. by chopper.”
    â€œDo me a favor,” Bill said as he punched his cell phone. “Hold on for thirty seconds.”
    â€œThirty seconds, you got, Mr. Hiccock.”
    âˆžÂ§âˆž
    â€œKronos, get up. Get up now and go to your SCIAD terminal on the double.”
    â€œWha…?”
    â€œKronos, wake the fuck up!” As Bill yelled, Janice stirred.
    â€œOkay, okay geez, where’s the fire?” came the disgruntled voice on the other end.
    â€œIn New York. I need the Joint Terrorist Task Force on the SCIAD net now.”
    â€œThey can’t.”
    â€œCan you set up a backdoor to SCIAD for about thirty seconds from now?”
    â€œSure, Hitch, no big whoop. I can create a one-time challenge and passkey to my super FTP.”
    â€œJust do it.”
    As he typed on his end, Kronos couldn’t believe what he was being asked to do. “You’re gonna give all our stuff to the fucking feds?”
    â€œRelax, brainboy. We’re the fucking feds, too. How long?”
    â€œC’mon Hitch; I just woke up.”
    â€œHow long?”
    â€œSixty seconds… I’m booting up now. Geez.”
    Bill smirked and changed phones. “Brooke, get the tape and the camera to the communications van. I have my guy making a password to my