As soon as she turned the corner around the terminal building, Blake’s Phenom 300 came into sight. The familiar whirring of its engines was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. Relieved, she climbed the five steps.
“Welcome aboard,” Blake’s pilot greeted her, turning his head towards her. He was clicking buttons and checking readouts. “We are ready for departure; we will be taking off shortly, please take your seat.”
“Whew, thanks!”
She took her seat, expecting the plane to start moving immediately. She waited for another couple of minutes, but the plane still sat there, door open. She moved forward in the small cabin to speak with the pilot.
“Any idea why we’re not leaving yet? It’s kind of a hairy situation I have going on here,” she tried to explain.
“I hope you weren’t planning to leave me here,” she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Sam!” she exclaimed and ran to him.
“What happened to no man left behind?” Sam asked, hugging her.
“I’m a civilian,” she laughed.
“Go,” he instructed the pilot.
The plane’s door closed with a thump. Minutes later, the Phenom was taking off, soaring towards the permanently yellow sky.
...93
...Monday, September 26, 10:04AM MST (UTC-7:00 hours)
... Outside InfraTech Headquarters - NSA / Homeland Security Joint Task Force - Mobile Intervention Unit
...Provo, Utah
Special Agent Lance Huntley fastened his Kevlar vest carefully, checking to see if it was secured in place.
He looked briefly at the geo-location screen, one of the many digital terminals in the Mobile Command Center. The screen showed blue dots corresponding to the respective locations of their team’s mobile units and red dots for any unregistered geo-locating devices picked up by the sensors. Blue for friendly, red for unknown or foe. All the blues were exactly where they were supposed to be. There was a cluster of red dots, immobile, centered on the InfraTech warehouse.
Huntley frowned, then dismissed his concern, attributing it to some active geo-locating devices that InfraTech may have had in stock. Who knows what else they got in there, he thought. Not giving the red dot cluster another second of attention, he picked up the radio.
“All teams, this is Command. Team Charlie, Team Delta, get ready. Confirm. Over.”
He looked at the young technician working on a laptop next to him.
“OK, start cell signal jamming now, five miles radius. I want it dead quiet. God himself shouldn’t be able to make a call.”
“Yes, sir,” the young man answered and started entering commands on his computer.
“Team Delta in position, over.”
“Team Charlie in position, over.”
“All signal is down, sir, all is quiet.”
“Cut their landlines, too.”
“They’re cut.”
“All teams, this is Command. All phone lines are down. Proceed at will.”
The MRAPs, marked ‘Homeland Security - Special Response Team,’ took strategic positions around the building. The blue dots on his geo screen reflected their new placement, showing them as a circle made of triangular blue tags enclosing the building, covering all angles and all exits.
Armed to the teeth and in full tactical gear, the two teams fanned out, surrounding the entire InfraTech warehouse and office building. Team Delta moved towards the back of the building, watching every exit. Team Charlie stayed at the front of the building, two of the agents blocking the parking lot exit. Five agents moved towards the main entrance to the building. Special Agent Huntley caught up with them and entered the lobby.
A startled, pale receptionist stood up, unsure what to say.
“Please call Mr. Weston for me,” Huntley asked.
“Y-yes, sir, right away.”
A few minutes later, Mr. Weston entered the lobby area.
“Good morning. How can I help you?”
“Good morning, sir. I’m Special Agent Lance Huntley with the NSA / Homeland Security joint task force. We have reasons to believe the security at your facility has been compromised.”
“Oh?” Weston asked, surprised. He must have had many years as the leader of a government contractor, yet he seemed taken aback by the size of the task force. Just as an innocent man would react.
“We cannot go into details at this time. We are here to take over operations until the critical cargo leaves your facility. Please notify your staff they have to vacate the premises immediately.”
One by one, employees exited the building, heading towards a cordoned area in the parking lot. The task force was not letting anyone leave yet; they needed to know they had everyone’s information; everyone had to be accounted for.
Inside the Mobile Command Center, ignored by everyone, the geo-locating screen showed a smaller cluster of red dots in motion, away from the warehouse, where the majority of the red dots remained immobile.