will maintain warmth in subfreezing weather. It’s a little tight, but there’s not an inch of wasted space in it.”
Julio led Kent to the driver’s compartment. “Here’s the real fun part. That bank of switches, there? Watch.” He lifted the switch covers and pressed three buttons. There came a hum of power, and as Kent watched, a pair of dark gray plates folded in from above and below over the windshield, coming to a sharp angle in front of the glass.
“Stealth gear,” Fernandez said. “Extrudable spun-carbon fiber sheets and plates that give you some nice radar-shielding angles. You get an exploratory ping on your detector, you turn toward the source, hit the buttons, and you turn invisible, more or less.”
“Very interesting,” Kent said.
“Yes, sir. What with domestic and international terrorists getting more and more sophisticated with their own surveillance gear, this vehicle is the perfect Command-and-Control Center for mounting operations in a hurry at a far remove.”
“I assume this hardware is not cheap,” Kent observed.
“No, sir, but it is reasonable. If we supply the electronics, the maker will build it to our specifications, and our cost is less than a hundred thousand per unit, delivered.”
Kent raised an eyebrow. “Really? That seems very reasonable.”
“Yes, sir. Company is in Iowa, American to the core, good Christian family-value kind of place. Sure, if we let it to the lowest bidder, we might get units cheaper somewhere, but they won’t be made as well. See those ridges, there, there, and back there? Those are steel roll bars. This is the safest RV you can ride in. In the forty-odd years the company has been making them, they’ve never had a single fatality in an accident. Not one.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Yes, sir, I thought so.”
“And you are telling me this because you think we should have some of these vehicles.”
“Yes, sir. They are portable. Stash five or six around the country, we’d have one a few hours away from any situation we’d need covered. They run about eleven or twelve thousand pounds in this configuration, so if we borrowed a big transport plane from somebody, we could haul one to any air base in the world where we could land one of the big honkers, like a C5A.”
“I can’t see one of these on the back roads of Afghanistan or Iraq,” Kent said. His voice was dry.
“We’re not supposed to go to those places anyway, sir; it’s against our charter. But from the outside, this could belong to Ma and Pa Retiree out to see America, and even without the stealth gear, it would give us advanced operations capabilities in places we couldn’t sneak into otherwise. Nothing like a fleet of camouflaged military trucks full of guys in uniform rolling down a desert highway in Utah or the woods of Idaho to draw attention.”
Kent considered it. “Do we have room in our budget for this?”
“Yes, sir. With a little creative swapping, I believe we can manage five units, maybe six, no problem.”
Kent gave him a tight nod. He knew all about wheeler-dealers. If Fernandez could horse trade as well as he talked—and John had always said that he could—it was a done deal. “And you say that General Howard wants this to be my decision?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right, Lieutenant. Make it happen.”
“Yes, sir!”
“What are you grinning at, Lieutenant?”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“You’ve been with John Howard since he was a shavetail, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I can’t imagine he kept you shut up. Fire away.”
“I was just thinking how reasonable the Colonel is, for a, uh . . .”
“—a jarhead?”
“Yes, sir. My thought exactly.”
“We might have a reputation for respecting history and tradition, Lieutenant, but we aren’t stupid. We would rather have our people in top-of-the-line gear when we can get it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go do your deal, Lieutenant.”
“Sir.” Fernandez gave him a
Julio led Kent to the driver’s compartment. “Here’s the real fun part. That bank of switches, there? Watch.” He lifted the switch covers and pressed three buttons. There came a hum of power, and as Kent watched, a pair of dark gray plates folded in from above and below over the windshield, coming to a sharp angle in front of the glass.
“Stealth gear,” Fernandez said. “Extrudable spun-carbon fiber sheets and plates that give you some nice radar-shielding angles. You get an exploratory ping on your detector, you turn toward the source, hit the buttons, and you turn invisible, more or less.”
“Very interesting,” Kent said.
“Yes, sir. What with domestic and international terrorists getting more and more sophisticated with their own surveillance gear, this vehicle is the perfect Command-and-Control Center for mounting operations in a hurry at a far remove.”
“I assume this hardware is not cheap,” Kent observed.
“No, sir, but it is reasonable. If we supply the electronics, the maker will build it to our specifications, and our cost is less than a hundred thousand per unit, delivered.”
Kent raised an eyebrow. “Really? That seems very reasonable.”
“Yes, sir. Company is in Iowa, American to the core, good Christian family-value kind of place. Sure, if we let it to the lowest bidder, we might get units cheaper somewhere, but they won’t be made as well. See those ridges, there, there, and back there? Those are steel roll bars. This is the safest RV you can ride in. In the forty-odd years the company has been making them, they’ve never had a single fatality in an accident. Not one.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Yes, sir, I thought so.”
“And you are telling me this because you think we should have some of these vehicles.”
“Yes, sir. They are portable. Stash five or six around the country, we’d have one a few hours away from any situation we’d need covered. They run about eleven or twelve thousand pounds in this configuration, so if we borrowed a big transport plane from somebody, we could haul one to any air base in the world where we could land one of the big honkers, like a C5A.”
“I can’t see one of these on the back roads of Afghanistan or Iraq,” Kent said. His voice was dry.
“We’re not supposed to go to those places anyway, sir; it’s against our charter. But from the outside, this could belong to Ma and Pa Retiree out to see America, and even without the stealth gear, it would give us advanced operations capabilities in places we couldn’t sneak into otherwise. Nothing like a fleet of camouflaged military trucks full of guys in uniform rolling down a desert highway in Utah or the woods of Idaho to draw attention.”
Kent considered it. “Do we have room in our budget for this?”
“Yes, sir. With a little creative swapping, I believe we can manage five units, maybe six, no problem.”
Kent gave him a tight nod. He knew all about wheeler-dealers. If Fernandez could horse trade as well as he talked—and John had always said that he could—it was a done deal. “And you say that General Howard wants this to be my decision?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right, Lieutenant. Make it happen.”
“Yes, sir!”
“What are you grinning at, Lieutenant?”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“You’ve been with John Howard since he was a shavetail, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I can’t imagine he kept you shut up. Fire away.”
“I was just thinking how reasonable the Colonel is, for a, uh . . .”
“—a jarhead?”
“Yes, sir. My thought exactly.”
“We might have a reputation for respecting history and tradition, Lieutenant, but we aren’t stupid. We would rather have our people in top-of-the-line gear when we can get it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go do your deal, Lieutenant.”
“Sir.” Fernandez gave him a
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