Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [21]
Then again, General Rodgers doesn't seem to feel it, she told herself. If anything, he appeared invigorated. He sat with his back to her, facing a wall of monitors that displayed satellite views of the region as well as information that ranged from levels of microwave radiation to local smog and allergen levels. Large rises in microwave levels indicated an increase in cellular communications, which was often a forerunner to military activity in a region. A higher smog or pollen count told them what kind of efficiency levels they could expect from soldiers. Mary Rose had been astonished to learn from Op-Center's chief medical officer, Jerry Wheeler, that antihistamines weren't deeply stockpiled by many of the world's armies. However sophisticated a nation's weapons were, they'd be useless in the hands of itchy-eyed warriors.
No, General Rodgers didn't feel the exhaustion. Mary Rose could tell that he was happily immersed in studying his data. That was why they hadn't had a break since their early, fifteen-minute lunch. He was lost in this first glimpse at wars of the near future. Wars that wouldn't be fought between great armies, but by small bands against small bands, and by satellites against computers and communications centers. Enemies of tomorrow would not be battalions, but groups of terrorists who used chemical and biological weapons against civilian targets, killing and vanishing. Then it would be up to teams like the ROC crew to plan a swift and surgical response. Find a way to get as close to the enemy brain as possible and lobotomize it, using an elite unit like Op-Center's Striker or a missile hit or a booby-trapped car or telephone or electric shaver. Hope that with the head gone, the hands and feet would no longer function.
Unlike many "old soldiers" who longed for the old Ways, Mary Rose knew that the forty-something Rodgers relished this new challenge. He enjoyed new ideas and new ways almost as much as he enjoyed his bottomless supply of old aphorisms. As he'd told her with boyish enthusiasm when they'd settled into their seats early this morning, "Samuel Johnson once said, 'The world is not yet exhausted; let me see something tomorrow which I never saw before.' I'm looking forward to this, Mary Rose."
Getting Matt's OLM up and running took just over fifteen minutes. When she'd loaded it and run the diagnostics, Rodgers asked her to break into the Turkish Security Forces computer file. He wanted to learn more about Colonel Nejat Seden, the man who was being sent to work with them. He said that Seden was undoubtedly being sent to watch them as well, though Rodgers had expected that. That was how what he called the "watch out" worked. It was the nitrogen cycle of spying. Rodgers himself was watching the Turks as well as the Syrians; the Israelis were probably watching them both, while the CIA watched the Israelis. Rodgers said it was only fitting that the Turks would watch them.
But Mary Rose suspected that more than politics was behind his request. The general also liked to know the caliber of the individual with whom he'd be spending his time. Sitting beside him on the C-141A that had brought them to Turkey, she'd discovered one quality above all about General Mike Rodgers. He didn't enjoy being surrounded by people, even enemies, who weren't as committed to their jobs as he was to his.
Mary Rose wriggled uncomfortably in her seat as she typed commands into the computer. Because chairs with wheels made a familiar and distinctive sound, the seats in the ROC were bolted to the floor. As Op-Center's Yale-educated Chief Engineer Harlan Bellock had said during the design phase, "Casters would be a tip-off to snoops. It would be very odd to hear the sounds of office furniture coming from an archaeologist's