him.
Definitely the same man. Older than her and Seth’s thirty-seven, about forty-six, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a boy-next-door face that hadn’t seemed to age since their
first meeting. He was dressed in civilian clothes, a brown suit, which was a common OSI agent practice. Rank anonymity leveled the field and eliminated intimidation barriers between lower-and higher-ranked suspects or witnesses and agents.
“It’s good to see you, Dr. Holt.” Agent 12 shook and released Seth’s hand, and then turned to her. “You must be Dr. Warner.”
“Yes.” Julia clasped and shook. Not a hint of recognition in his eyes. None. He looked at her as if she were a complete stranger. Convenient amnesia must be a job skill an agent developed with practice. He was good at it. “How are you?”
He motioned for them to sit and returned to his chair. “Any better and it’d kill me.”
A lie, and they all knew it. Things were rough all over. In the last six years, the military had suffered a forty percent drawdown in forces and a budget strung so tight that a minor, unanticipated conflict outside U.S. borders sent the administration scurrying to Congress to beg for money and stretched resources and personnel so thin that CONUS— the continental U.S.—was left vulnerable. Things were definitely rough all over.
“So,” Agent 12 said, “tell me about this security breach.”
Julia let Seth talk, and he did so at length.
The longer she sat there listening, the more intensely her head ached. Partly from pretending she had never seen Agent 12 before, and—she glanced at her watch—partly because she, Agent 12, and Seth had been cloistered in the secure briefing room for over an hour already. Every known detail about the sensor-code theft had been related. Every potential challenge that could arise had been thoroughly discussed. For the past ten minutes, Seth and Agent 12 had been rehashing events and the potential impact of the stolen sensor codes.
Julia recognized the pattern’s methodology. Agent 12 absorbed all the data, sifted through, doubled back for verifications and clarifications—no doubt factoring in intelli
gence report contents he had access to that they did not— and then formed a plan of action. If jackhammers weren’t having a field day inside her head, she might have appreciated the intricacies of the mental process. Instead, she couldn’t focus beyond doubting Seth and hoping Agent 12 drew some conclusions soon. If she wanted to get through the headache—the guilt for doubting Seth would take longer—before it got to the migraine, throw-your-guts-up stage, then she needed food, medication, a hot bath, and a cold glass of juice. And she needed them fast.
Agent 12 looked up from a legal pad of scribbled notes only he and God could possible decipher. “So, in your professional opinions, the sensor-codes theft poses a real and serious danger, but not an immediate threat. Am I clear on that?”
Seth responded. “Yes.”
“Can we reprogram the codes?”
“We can, but we’ll lose maximum effectiveness,” Seth responded succinctly. “The systems are interdependent. Change one, and you’ve got to change them all to maintain the highest precision probability ratings.”
“It’d be a nightmare to do,” Julia added. “But if necessary, we have the ability to make it happen.”
“True.” Seth nodded. “But maybe not before the hostiles do and they inflict serious damage on us.”
Agent 12 fixed his gaze on his pad. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do.” He leaned back in his chair, gripped its arms, and then laid out his plan of action. “Officially, the OSI is investigating. But no word of the matter is to leave this room. Tell no one that the codes have been copied.”
“Not even Colonel Pullman?” Julia asked. The lab commander should know about this.
“Isn’t he still TDY to Switzerland?”
“Yes, he is,” Seth said. “Two more weeks.”
Agent 12 nodded.
Definitely the same man. Older than her and Seth’s thirty-seven, about forty-six, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a boy-next-door face that hadn’t seemed to age since their
first meeting. He was dressed in civilian clothes, a brown suit, which was a common OSI agent practice. Rank anonymity leveled the field and eliminated intimidation barriers between lower-and higher-ranked suspects or witnesses and agents.
“It’s good to see you, Dr. Holt.” Agent 12 shook and released Seth’s hand, and then turned to her. “You must be Dr. Warner.”
“Yes.” Julia clasped and shook. Not a hint of recognition in his eyes. None. He looked at her as if she were a complete stranger. Convenient amnesia must be a job skill an agent developed with practice. He was good at it. “How are you?”
He motioned for them to sit and returned to his chair. “Any better and it’d kill me.”
A lie, and they all knew it. Things were rough all over. In the last six years, the military had suffered a forty percent drawdown in forces and a budget strung so tight that a minor, unanticipated conflict outside U.S. borders sent the administration scurrying to Congress to beg for money and stretched resources and personnel so thin that CONUS— the continental U.S.—was left vulnerable. Things were definitely rough all over.
“So,” Agent 12 said, “tell me about this security breach.”
Julia let Seth talk, and he did so at length.
The longer she sat there listening, the more intensely her head ached. Partly from pretending she had never seen Agent 12 before, and—she glanced at her watch—partly because she, Agent 12, and Seth had been cloistered in the secure briefing room for over an hour already. Every known detail about the sensor-code theft had been related. Every potential challenge that could arise had been thoroughly discussed. For the past ten minutes, Seth and Agent 12 had been rehashing events and the potential impact of the stolen sensor codes.
Julia recognized the pattern’s methodology. Agent 12 absorbed all the data, sifted through, doubled back for verifications and clarifications—no doubt factoring in intelli
gence report contents he had access to that they did not— and then formed a plan of action. If jackhammers weren’t having a field day inside her head, she might have appreciated the intricacies of the mental process. Instead, she couldn’t focus beyond doubting Seth and hoping Agent 12 drew some conclusions soon. If she wanted to get through the headache—the guilt for doubting Seth would take longer—before it got to the migraine, throw-your-guts-up stage, then she needed food, medication, a hot bath, and a cold glass of juice. And she needed them fast.
Agent 12 looked up from a legal pad of scribbled notes only he and God could possible decipher. “So, in your professional opinions, the sensor-codes theft poses a real and serious danger, but not an immediate threat. Am I clear on that?”
Seth responded. “Yes.”
“Can we reprogram the codes?”
“We can, but we’ll lose maximum effectiveness,” Seth responded succinctly. “The systems are interdependent. Change one, and you’ve got to change them all to maintain the highest precision probability ratings.”
“It’d be a nightmare to do,” Julia added. “But if necessary, we have the ability to make it happen.”
“True.” Seth nodded. “But maybe not before the hostiles do and they inflict serious damage on us.”
Agent 12 fixed his gaze on his pad. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do.” He leaned back in his chair, gripped its arms, and then laid out his plan of action. “Officially, the OSI is investigating. But no word of the matter is to leave this room. Tell no one that the codes have been copied.”
“Not even Colonel Pullman?” Julia asked. The lab commander should know about this.
“Isn’t he still TDY to Switzerland?”
“Yes, he is,” Seth said. “Two more weeks.”
Agent 12 nodded.
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