One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [3]
The size of a micro-SD card, it was a passive beacon that worked like an E-Z Pass on a toll road. It would register every time it passed a special receiver. The good part was that the card didn’t need GPS or transmitting capability, along with the requisite battery source, so it could be made very, very small. The bad part was the beacon wouldn’t give a specific location. It would only confirm our suspicions as the beacon passed our receivers, which we had placed throughout the target’s habitual route. The final receiver was in the stairwell of the target’s parking garage. A team, hidden in the shadows, would deploy when the beacon signaled. Unfortunately, with the receivers’ track record, it could trigger if the wind blew the wrong way.
After watching Knuckles get chased away, I gave Bull a call. “Anything going on?”
“No. He’s looking at the target, but so is everyone else thanks to Knuckles’s little play. Hasn’t communicated with anyone.”
“Roger. Retro, you guys ready?”
“Yeah. We just don’t know what the trailer looks like.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll trigger. If it’s no good—”
“Break—break. This is Bull. Target’s on the move.”
Shit. That was quick. Ready or not, the target was going to force our hand.
2
Colonel Kurt Hale was almost run over by the scrum of advisors leaving the Oval Office. A few years ago, when the West Wing was still a novel experience, he would have felt a little awe. Today, he just felt annoyed that they didn’t bother to say excuse me, too intent in their own little world to notice him.
The president’s personal secretary saw his annoyance and grinned. “You leave the military and you could be just like them.”
Kurt smiled. “No, thanks, Sally. Can I go in?”
“Sure. You and his wife are the only ones he never makes wait.”
Kurt entered and saw President Payton Warren with his back turned, looking out the window, apparently deep in thought.
“Sir, you want me to come back later?”
He saw the president start a little, then turn with a smile. “No, no. Come in. I could use a discussion about something that’s truly important.”
The president shook Kurt’s hand warmly. “Let’s go to the study so we won’t be disturbed.”
Following the president, Kurt once again felt a little amazed at the position he was in. Originally he’d been just one of many men trying to help the president defend the nation, but their relationship had grown into a true friendship—albeit one still grounded in their respective positions. While the president had never served in the military, he had shown Kurt a keen grasp of the application of military power, using it as a scalpel when he could and a sledgehammer when he had to, but always only after he had analyzed all other options. As was not the case with other politicians Kurt had dealt with, he trusted the president’s judgment and commitment.
After Kurt was seated, Payton handed him what looked like a Hall-mark card.
“What’s this?”
“Something I want you to take back to the boys as a token of my thanks. Happy anniversary.”
Kurt noted the date on his watch. “Yeah, I guess it was today, wasn’t it?”
“Three years ago today. I’ll tell you, I figured I’d be impeached or in jail by now, but Project Prometheus has been pretty much flawless. And largely because of the efforts of you and your men, the country has remained safe.”
“I appreciate that, sir, but they’re your nuts on the chopping block. Not mine. And you were the one with the vision to see that the Cold War system in place wasn’t working for a war in the shadows.”
President Warren shrugged. “Come on. You never take any credit for the success. It’s the three-year anniversary. Take a damn moment to enjoy what you’ve done. I know what happened before I took office. That’s how I found you in the first place.”
Before 9/11 there was little need for an element like Project Prometheus.