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Globall War Of Terror: Reality Check
Jan. 4th, 2017 04:26 pmMo and I were in the blast shed security and auditing inventory when the shed door banged open.
I turned and drew, then holstered when I saw that it was Legal One. Mo didn't care who it was, he went hands on and pushed my client right out the door, shouting "No! No!"
I followed as Mo kept pushing him backward on the path. He was too shocked to react. Then I saw what Mo had seen, and my bladder cut loose as my knees gave way and my vision grayed.
I took two deep breaths and verbalized after each, "No! Get back! Danger!" On the third breath I blurted out, "No radio or phones! Ever! Back behind the red line, sir, right now. Right now!"
As we crossed the literal red line of used brick set on the ground marking a fifty foot radius from the shed, I would have pissed myself again if I'd had anything left.
His radio crackled and I took it from him, putting my body between the antenna and the shed.
"Control, this is Echo 18 actual. Do you have emergency traffic?"
"Negative, Legal One is looking for you and headed to the shed."
The golf cart rumbled into view down the path to the shed, with the reaction team on board. Obviously responding to same.
"Copy. Legal One is with me and Bravo 2. Break. Cancel response to the shed, word of the day is Hightower. Control confirm."
"Control to React Two, 10-19, Code 4."
"React Two copies." The electric golf cart made a U-turn - neat trick on a narrow path - and rumbled back up the hollow.
The demo shed was set in a small valley, a hollow between two hills, for many tolerably obvious reasons.
"Echo 18 to Control, I will be off radio for a half hour. Use the shed emergency strobe if you need me for an emergency. Out."
To one side of the path, well outside the red line of bricks, was a sheltered overhang supporting a few solar panels. They were wired to a battery, a couple of radio cradles, and a strobe light. The dispatcher in the command center can flick a switch to light that strobe over a wireline connection, letting the bomb techs know to call in, whether they are inside or out.
Safely.
From outside the RF danger area where radio traffic could set off stored demolitions and vaporize anyone present. Not to mention losing the explosives, which have many uses.
"All three of us just came within seconds of sudden violent death, sir. If that radio had received in that room, what is left of us could be picked up with toothbrushes and buried in a coffee can. Mo, go lock the shed from outside, then 10-19."
No one - not even me - is ever allowed in the shed alone.
Legal One sat down heavily on one of the rough benches, and wrinkled his nose at the sharp smell of urine.
This area was still within the "Off Limits To All Personnel, This Means You, Security Access Must Be Authorized By Control, Two (2) Person Rule At All Times, Deadly Force Authorized Inside Red Line. No Radios, No Phones, No Photos."
Clearly he hadn't read the signs.
"Who owns this land?" he asked.
"This parcel is landlocked, actually. It was a farmhouse at one point. Some LLC in Delaware keeps trying to sell it to you folks, someone told me once."
Legal One's secretary, actually.
"So you did not actually build a ... bunker on Company property?"
"As you know, we have built a bunch of bunkers on Company property. This is the only large explosives storage. We have three ready use lockers with small quantities, enough for one incident each."
"South Gate, Mezzanine, Motor Pool."
"You got it."
"Why?"
"The weapon of choice for terrorists, if you can't or won't mount a direct attack, is IEDs. We were hit with a truck bomb. Several attempts have been made at the gate. IEDs are a constant threat to our convoys. I am amazed that I did not encounter any during my time off."
"Except the ones you brought."
"A breaching charge is not an IED." And that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
"What about the item on the upside down table?"
"A bluff."
He's seen the video from the colo site invasion. Possibly analyzed it.
"And the Lexus."
"I have no idea why that car blew up."
"I may have been born at night but not last night!"
"Is this conversation protected by lawyer client privilege?"
"Fuck no!"
"There was no difference between the Crown Vic and the Lexus."
True. Mo and I had rigged both vehicles because I wasn't certain if I would have to order Mo to blow one or the other, or both.
"You actually let them go."
"I did."
He knows I'm lying. I know he knows. But the best lawyers can conceal even that fact.
Legal One, despite his callsign, is not that good.
"What if I told you to tear this," handwave around us at the demo shed slash training area, "all down?"
"If I couldn't change your mind, and couldn't go over your head, I'd have to quit."
"Why?"
"There is a samurai saying. It is false to your sworn oath to die with a weapon you have not yet drawn."
"Huh?"
Now we were getting somewhere, past anger and disbelief. He was thinking.
"The fastest, safest and most economical way to defeat an IED is to blow it up at a time, place and manner of your choosing. That means bomb squads need bombs. No getting around it. Techs have to train on live ordinance. We have no police and no military support. This is not Ghostbusters! There is no one left to call!"
"What will you do when there is?"
"Be grateful that some of us survived. Demill the toys."
"De-mil?"
"Demilitarize. Cut the barrels in half, burn or controlled detonate the junk. Put the Hate Truck on a pedestal and put a plaque on it. Have Landscaping mow Boot Hill since they're not too busy trying to grow food."
"Do you know how to set up an LZ?"
"For civilian. Read up on military."
"Set one up. We have visitors tomorrow. Marines."
I nod.
"The vehicle turn-around at the base of this hill. There's already a windsock tied to the nearest light pole. A few weighted cones and a marker panel. Two guards and the Fire Brigade light engine for crowd control and aviation safety. The flags on Boot Hill are good for wind direction. No smoke - unless you want me to get one from the shed."
"What haven't you planned for?"
"I have a guard dead because we couldn't get him to surgical care in time."
He winced. I continued.
"I have no plan for keeping prisoners for more than a few days. We have a brig for processing and for minor matters, but a jail is an expensive way to feed your enemies when we can hardly feed our friends. Letting them go is the best thing we can do."
"Yet you gave Daswant a Lexus?"
"I expended an asset to speed them on their way."
Finally the penny drops and he gets it. He visibly pales.
"Did you... ?"
"I know your law degree is in patent law, but somewhere in there did they cover the concept of an accessory after the fact?"
He pales further.
"You're my client. You have the right to ask me the hard questions. Be very sure you want the answers."
He looks at me. I mean, really looks.
With a spreading stain on the front of my pants and cold wetness down my legs and in my shoes, I undergo his scrutiny.
He nods once, briskly.
"Let's go count some explosives."
I get up and follow him back to the shed.
Without prompting, he has hung up his radio on the charging cradle. Turned off even.
We may have a chance.
I turned and drew, then holstered when I saw that it was Legal One. Mo didn't care who it was, he went hands on and pushed my client right out the door, shouting "No! No!"
I followed as Mo kept pushing him backward on the path. He was too shocked to react. Then I saw what Mo had seen, and my bladder cut loose as my knees gave way and my vision grayed.
I took two deep breaths and verbalized after each, "No! Get back! Danger!" On the third breath I blurted out, "No radio or phones! Ever! Back behind the red line, sir, right now. Right now!"
As we crossed the literal red line of used brick set on the ground marking a fifty foot radius from the shed, I would have pissed myself again if I'd had anything left.
His radio crackled and I took it from him, putting my body between the antenna and the shed.
"Control, this is Echo 18 actual. Do you have emergency traffic?"
"Negative, Legal One is looking for you and headed to the shed."
The golf cart rumbled into view down the path to the shed, with the reaction team on board. Obviously responding to same.
"Copy. Legal One is with me and Bravo 2. Break. Cancel response to the shed, word of the day is Hightower. Control confirm."
"Control to React Two, 10-19, Code 4."
"React Two copies." The electric golf cart made a U-turn - neat trick on a narrow path - and rumbled back up the hollow.
The demo shed was set in a small valley, a hollow between two hills, for many tolerably obvious reasons.
"Echo 18 to Control, I will be off radio for a half hour. Use the shed emergency strobe if you need me for an emergency. Out."
To one side of the path, well outside the red line of bricks, was a sheltered overhang supporting a few solar panels. They were wired to a battery, a couple of radio cradles, and a strobe light. The dispatcher in the command center can flick a switch to light that strobe over a wireline connection, letting the bomb techs know to call in, whether they are inside or out.
Safely.
From outside the RF danger area where radio traffic could set off stored demolitions and vaporize anyone present. Not to mention losing the explosives, which have many uses.
"All three of us just came within seconds of sudden violent death, sir. If that radio had received in that room, what is left of us could be picked up with toothbrushes and buried in a coffee can. Mo, go lock the shed from outside, then 10-19."
No one - not even me - is ever allowed in the shed alone.
Legal One sat down heavily on one of the rough benches, and wrinkled his nose at the sharp smell of urine.
This area was still within the "Off Limits To All Personnel, This Means You, Security Access Must Be Authorized By Control, Two (2) Person Rule At All Times, Deadly Force Authorized Inside Red Line. No Radios, No Phones, No Photos."
Clearly he hadn't read the signs.
"Who owns this land?" he asked.
"This parcel is landlocked, actually. It was a farmhouse at one point. Some LLC in Delaware keeps trying to sell it to you folks, someone told me once."
Legal One's secretary, actually.
"So you did not actually build a ... bunker on Company property?"
"As you know, we have built a bunch of bunkers on Company property. This is the only large explosives storage. We have three ready use lockers with small quantities, enough for one incident each."
"South Gate, Mezzanine, Motor Pool."
"You got it."
"Why?"
"The weapon of choice for terrorists, if you can't or won't mount a direct attack, is IEDs. We were hit with a truck bomb. Several attempts have been made at the gate. IEDs are a constant threat to our convoys. I am amazed that I did not encounter any during my time off."
"Except the ones you brought."
"A breaching charge is not an IED." And that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
"What about the item on the upside down table?"
"A bluff."
He's seen the video from the colo site invasion. Possibly analyzed it.
"And the Lexus."
"I have no idea why that car blew up."
"I may have been born at night but not last night!"
"Is this conversation protected by lawyer client privilege?"
"Fuck no!"
"There was no difference between the Crown Vic and the Lexus."
True. Mo and I had rigged both vehicles because I wasn't certain if I would have to order Mo to blow one or the other, or both.
"You actually let them go."
"I did."
He knows I'm lying. I know he knows. But the best lawyers can conceal even that fact.
Legal One, despite his callsign, is not that good.
"What if I told you to tear this," handwave around us at the demo shed slash training area, "all down?"
"If I couldn't change your mind, and couldn't go over your head, I'd have to quit."
"Why?"
"There is a samurai saying. It is false to your sworn oath to die with a weapon you have not yet drawn."
"Huh?"
Now we were getting somewhere, past anger and disbelief. He was thinking.
"The fastest, safest and most economical way to defeat an IED is to blow it up at a time, place and manner of your choosing. That means bomb squads need bombs. No getting around it. Techs have to train on live ordinance. We have no police and no military support. This is not Ghostbusters! There is no one left to call!"
"What will you do when there is?"
"Be grateful that some of us survived. Demill the toys."
"De-mil?"
"Demilitarize. Cut the barrels in half, burn or controlled detonate the junk. Put the Hate Truck on a pedestal and put a plaque on it. Have Landscaping mow Boot Hill since they're not too busy trying to grow food."
"Do you know how to set up an LZ?"
"For civilian. Read up on military."
"Set one up. We have visitors tomorrow. Marines."
I nod.
"The vehicle turn-around at the base of this hill. There's already a windsock tied to the nearest light pole. A few weighted cones and a marker panel. Two guards and the Fire Brigade light engine for crowd control and aviation safety. The flags on Boot Hill are good for wind direction. No smoke - unless you want me to get one from the shed."
"What haven't you planned for?"
"I have a guard dead because we couldn't get him to surgical care in time."
He winced. I continued.
"I have no plan for keeping prisoners for more than a few days. We have a brig for processing and for minor matters, but a jail is an expensive way to feed your enemies when we can hardly feed our friends. Letting them go is the best thing we can do."
"Yet you gave Daswant a Lexus?"
"I expended an asset to speed them on their way."
Finally the penny drops and he gets it. He visibly pales.
"Did you... ?"
"I know your law degree is in patent law, but somewhere in there did they cover the concept of an accessory after the fact?"
He pales further.
"You're my client. You have the right to ask me the hard questions. Be very sure you want the answers."
He looks at me. I mean, really looks.
With a spreading stain on the front of my pants and cold wetness down my legs and in my shoes, I undergo his scrutiny.
He nods once, briskly.
"Let's go count some explosives."
I get up and follow him back to the shed.
Without prompting, he has hung up his radio on the charging cradle. Turned off even.
We may have a chance.
