Arctic Storm Rising by Dale Brown (readera ebook reader .TXT) 📗

said bluntly. “Basically, if they detect an unidentified aircraft—any unidentified aircraft—in their zone of operations sometime in the next twenty-four hours, I need them to intercept and shadowit . . . but not to engage the bogey unless it takes hostile action. I also want them to immediately report any such contact directly to me.And if this unidentified aircraft tries to land at a friendly air base or even a civilian airport, they should allow it todo so—and then take immediate action to secure that aircraft against air or ground attack.”

Murphy stared at her for a few seconds. Then he shook his head in amazement. “Yeah, I guess you weren’t kidding.” He sat back a little. “And is there anything more you need?” he asked, with a hint of irony. “Short of operationalcontrol over . . . oh, let’s say, a couple of Army divisions, or maybe a Navy aircraft carrier task force?”

Reynolds flushed slightly at his tone. Maybe she should have laid out more of the groundwork first, but what was done, wasdone. “Yes, I do need more,” she said quietly.

“Such as?”

“Authorization to form a special ‘go’ team of CIA and U.S. Air Force security personnel and technical experts, including specialistsfrom the Foreign Material Exploitation Squadron at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base,” she told him. “A team that would be preparedto fly anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice.”

The Foreign Material Exploitation Squadron was exactly what it sounded like—a group of scientists, engineers, and other expertswhose job was analyzing foreign-built aircraft and aerospace equipment captured on the battlefield or acquired by darker,less savory means. In earlier incarnations, it had pried open the secrets of captured Luftwaffe fighters and Soviet-era MiGs.

“That’s a pretty long list,” Murphy commented dryly. “So let’s cut straight to the bottom line: what exactly is the deal here?”

Reynolds had known this question was coming. But she still found it surprisingly difficult to lay her cards on the table.Secrets were the currency of the intelligence community, and once you revealed them, their value diminished precipitously.For now, she decided to disclose most of what she knew, just not everything. “A new HUMINT source inside Russia has suggestedthat a pilot may be about to defect with one of their advanced military aircraft,” she said cautiously. “Probably from a basesomewhere in southern or central Russia. So I want to avoid the possibility that this attempt could end in tragedy, with oneof our own fighters or missile units shooting the defecting aircraft down by mistake.”

“Sensible,” the DNI agreed. His eyes narrowed slightly. “What kind of aircraft are we talking here? One of their new Sukhoifighters?”

She shook her head. “Bigger than that. In fact, the experimental version of their brand-new stealth bomber.”

“Jesus,” Murphy said in surprise. “You’re kidding me.”

“That’s the word I’ve been given.”

Murphy considered that for a few seconds. “Okay, so what’s the motivation of this HUMINT source of yours?” he asked. “Is itsomething ideological? Personal? Or just plain mercenary?”

“Purely mercenary, I think,” Reynolds admitted, feeling a measure of surprise that he knew enough to ask that particular question.Understanding the impulses that drove those willing to betray their country’s secrets to the United States was a vital partof assessing their overall credibility and possible value as agents and sources. Those motivated by a desire for revenge forpast crimes or slights or by gauzy ideals like freedom and world peace were more mercurial, and often harder to handle. Prospectiveagents who were primarily interested in money were usually more reliable—at least until greed got the better of them . . .or their own side made it more valuable to stay loyal.

The DNI sat back again. “Okay, Miranda, in your best judgment, what are we really looking at here?”

“You mean, is my source’s claim about a possible defection true? Or is it just a piece of pie-in-the-sky bullshit peddled to score some quick cash from Uncle Sam?” Reynolds asked with a wry smile.

“That’s about the size of it,” Murphy agreed.

She shrugged. “Frankly, I’d put the odds that this is a genuine defection at only around one in four. But I figure it’s betterto be prepared . . . just in case this Russian is telling the honest-to-God truth.”

Murphy considered that for a long moment. Then he nodded again. “Okay, that makes sense. I can sell both the alert and pullinga team of specialists together as a reasonable precaution.” His gaze sharpened. “You say your source is all about money. Ifso, what’s our exposure so far?”

“Minimal.” Reynolds spread her hands. “But if it pans out, we’ll need to dip pretty heavily into our black funds to secureexclusive access to the aircraft.”

“‘Heavily’ is a pretty vague word,” he said coolly. “What kind of real numbers are we talking about here?”

“My source is pushing for something on the order of a couple of billion dollars,” she admitted.

“Holy crap!” Murphy blurted out in astonishment. He shook his head firmly. “That’s considerably above my authority. There’sno way in hell I can authorize anywhere close to that figure. Not without direct approval from the president himself.”

Reynolds nodded. “Yes, sir, I know.” Legally, the DNI could unilaterally transfer up to $150 million between different intelligenceagency budgets. Securing anything above that amount would be far more complicated. “And that’s why I want a security and evaluationteam ready to pounce on that plane as quickly as possible.”

“Ah,” he said, taking her point. “Meaning that what this source of yours demands is not necessarily what they will get.”

She smiled wolfishly. “Bingo. Because as soon as that aircraft is safely on the ground inside friendly territory, the negotiatingpower shifts pretty dramatically in our favor.”

Barter Island Long Range Radar Site, near Kaktovik, Alaska

That Same Time

Captain Nick Flynn looked around the brightly lit vehicle maintenance bay. The center of the large, oil-stained concrete floorwas now covered by a thick exercise mat, courtesy of the logistics personnel down at Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson who’dfinally filled one of his supply requisitions. He nodded in satisfaction. With the weather worsening day by day, he and SergeantAndy Takirak had agreed they needed to move as much of their routine training indoors as