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By Root 1317 0

the time. He was in Philly. They brought us down to work with Big Joe Fitzgerald. He was one of Hoover's roving inspectors. I was there when they found the bodies. Nasty, Martin said, remembering the sight and the horrid smell. All they wanted to do was to get citizens registered to vote, and they got killed for it, and the local cops weren't doing anything about it. It's funny, but when you see that sort of thing, it isn't abstract anymore. It isn't a document or a case study or a form to fill out. It just gets real as hell when you look at bodies that've been in the ground for two weeks. Those Klukker bastards broke the law and killed fellow citizens who were doing something the Constitution says isn't just okay-it's a right. So, we got 'em, and put 'em all away.

Why, Mr. Martin? Jack asked. The response was exactly what he expected.

Because I swore an oath, Mr. President. That's why.

So did I, Mr. Martin. And it wasn't to any goddamned game.

THE CUEING WAS somewhat equivocal. The Iraqi military used hundreds of radio frequencies, mainly FM VHF bands, and the traffic, while unusual for the overall situation, was routine in its content. There were thousands of messages, as many as fifty going at any given moment, and STORM TRACK didn't begin to have enough linguists to keep track of them all, though it had to do just that. The command circuits for senior officers were well known, but these were encrypted, meaning that computers in KKMC had to play with the signals in order to make sense of what sounded like static. Fortunately a number of defectors had come across with examples of the encryption hardware, and others trickled over various borders with daily keying sequences, all to be handsomely rewarded by the Saudis.

The use of radios was more now rather than less. The senior Iraqi officers were probably less concerned with electronic intercepts than with who might be listening in on a telephone line. That simple fact told the senior watch officers a lot, and a document was even now being prepared to go up the ladder to the DCI for delivery to the President.

STORM TRACK looked like most such stations. One huge antenna array, called an Elephant Cage for its circular configuration, both detected and localized signals, while other towering whip antennas handled other tasks. The listening station had been hastily built during the buildup for DESERT STORM as a means of gathering tactical intelligence for allied military units, then to be expanded for continuing interest in the region. The Kuwaitis had funded the sister station, PALM BOWL, for which they were rewarded with a good deal of the take.

That's three, a technician said at the latter station, reading off his screen. Three senior officers heading to the racetrack. A little early in the day to play the ponies, isn't it?

A meet? his lieutenant asked. This was a military station, and the technician, a fifteen-year sergeant, knew quite a bit more about the job than his new boss. At least the elltee was smart enough to ask questions.

Sure looks like it, ma'am.

Why there?

Middle of town, not in an official building. If you're out to meet your honey, you don't do it at home, do you? The screen changed. Okay, we cracked another one. The Air Force chief is there, too-was, probably. Traffic analysis seems to show that the meet broke up an hour or so ago. I wish we could crack their crypto gear faster

Content?

Just where to go and when, ma'am, nothing substantive, nothing about what they're meeting for.

When's the funeral, Sergeant?

Sunset.

YES? RYAN LIFTED the phone. You could pretty much tell how important the call was from the line that was lit. This one was Signals.

Major Canon, sir. We're getting feed from Saudi. The intel community is trying to make sense of it now. They told me to cue you on that.

Thank you. Ryan replaced the phone. You know, it would be nice to have 'em come in one at a time. Something happening in Iraq, but they're not sure what yet, he told his guests. I guess I have to start paying attention. Anything else I have to do now?

Put Secret