Chapter 10.
FITTED WITH VEHICLES
The Syndicate leader called for a new meeting at the Gentlemen's Club of New England. As usual the meeting was held in the large chamber underneath the fencing hall. This time the room was prepared for eleven attending, complete with pencils and papers, drinking glasses, water carafes, ashtrays, and an agenda. The leader stood at the end of the table while the others walked to their seats that was all marked out with their names. Nobody sat down until the leader had sat down.
"I hope the short notice hasn't fouled up your schedules." The leader begun. "This time we have a short list of orders. Three points: a report, the budget and of course our upcoming operation at the Peace building commission."
He began to read from the report.
"The last couple of months have been very eventful. The World Unification Alliance has unknowingly been doing our work for us: As a way of testing the skills of their new anti-terror task force - the Special Missions Force, Hugh Heyman had them infiltrating the Hanscom Air Force Base and bring with them the Microwave Transmitter Satellite that has been under development by Lincoln Laboratory. By moving the prototype from its secured position at the Hanscom AFB into the premises at Parris Island, one of our operatives was able to sneak inside and acquire a full technical readout of the satellite. This information was subsequently sold to the enemies of the United States."
The room was filled with a murmur of approval.
He silenced them with a sharp hiss before he left the word to Ulysses, who spoke up with a loud and clear voice.
"As most of you are undoubtedly aware of, we were forced to give up the Cold Store in New Orleans after it was revealed to our associate Curt Harker that the police had it under observation. This was just a minor setback since the World Unification Alliance are now facing a lot of negative press regarding the arrogant manner in which they attacked the Cold Store. As of now, the World Unification Alliance is in some disorder because they are unable to determine whom it was that issued the order to take out the Cold Store. By direct orders from our leader, I sent this order out myself, making it appear to have been sent from the Security Department."
"The loss of the cold store cost my organization a lot of money." Jefferson Pratt interrupted. "I trust that the Syndicate will compensate me for the loss."
"You are being compensated by the World Unification Alliance," the leader pointed out. "Don't be greedy, Pratt. We share brotherly in this organization."
Pratt fell into silence, allowing Ulysses to continue.
"As a direct result of the fiasco with the Cold Store, the World Unification Alliance has begun an internal investigation. Again, in full collaboration with our leader, I provided them with the necessary information to expose the same police officer that informed Curt Harker about the police observation post. The police officer was then effectively silenced before he could tell the interrogators anything of importance. We studied the transcripts, and there is nothing that can be traced back to us."
Pratt spoke up again.
"Just how much do the Security Department know? That Lisa Moore is already questioning me about my connections to Alexander Osborne. I swore ignorance of course, but Osborne and Harker have a history together. If they find out and start to trace…"
"You have nothing to worry about." The leader dismissed. "It wasn't you that hired Osborne. You had no knowledge that he used your cold store to store weapons. Besides, you know that investigating high officials is a touchy subject. All of us have friends whose authority supersedes even Heyman's. If Ms. Moore wants to keep her job, she has to be careful not to exceed her authority."
Pratt was concerned, but he didn't dare to challenge the leader any further to get the confirmation that he so desired. He lowered his gaze and listened through the long session where the attendants reported the financial situation in the sector they represented.
The leader then begun to speak about the top-level meeting.
"In two months', time, there will, as you are all aware of, be a Peace building commission held in New York. This is the moment we have all been preparing for. I have carefully developed a conspiracy plot to stop the top-level meeting. Evidence will be placed out. We have acquired detailed information over the building where the meeting will take place and worked out escape routes. Our own troopers, trained in the Plantation, are ready and are standing by to act accordingly to my instructions. Our special operative will take some important hostages and the blame will go to an outside source, thus forcing the Security Council to sanction further actions abroad."
The leader was pleased with his work, although he tried to mask it from his voice, it was evident. Every single act of premeditated violence or careful recruitment of personnel had been designed to lead the Syndicate to its present status. But of course, there were always obstacles.
"Insiders working within the World Unification Alliance has informed us that the Special Missions Force are going to be fully operational by the time this top-level meeting is going to take place. This is of little concern. Ever since the Secretary of Défense sanctioned the project, our special operative inside of the World Consultation Building has brought us detailed blueprints of the vehicles that Andrew Trakker and his engineers has created. When the Special Missions Force opposes us, they will learn that we are fully prepared to deal with them."
Yes, the Special Missions Force was of little concern. The important thing was to use every opportunity that unfolded to gain prestige and power. The leader of the Syndicate could have made it into any sitting government, but he had opted to create an organization of his own, because he demanded personal opportunity. The disturbances he had planned for the top-level meeting would result into an enormous tax-supported defense project, awfully expensive and massive. The opportunities for profit would be incalculable. In the meantime, the World Unification Alliance had to be kept distracted and all political power would be carefully consolidated.
Thomas Jefferson training field was located just outside of Hampton in Virginia, just at the tip of Langley Air Force Base and it was to be the home of the Special Missions Force as they undertook their vehicular training.
In a garage commandeered by the World Unification Alliance, Andy and his engineers were field stripping the vehicles, their fingers moving with precision. Tiny circuit boards were removed, checked, and blown clean of dust and lint before being reinserted into their slots. Other crew members drove tow motors or ran loading arms. They meshed perfectly in the close quarters in which they found themselves, and despite the amount of machinery in constant motion, no one so much as scraped his neighbor.
An hour after arriving to the base, the whole team was called out on the yard in front of the garage eager to find out what kind of amazing machinery the engineering section had prepared for them. Some of them squeezed down on a few crates, while the rest stood at their side. But there was good humor among them.
"We have thirteen vehicles prepared for you," Andy, who performed the briefing explained. "You will be assigned to one vehicle each, and that selection has been based on your special skills."
The vehicles were rolled out. It was a varied selection of them. There was mostly a selection of cars, but also two semi-trailers, a monster truck, a large van, two motorcycles and finally a car carrier.
A towmotor pulled out a Turbofan gunship, a futuristic looking insectile aircraft equipped with Vertical Take-off and Landing (VTOL).
Andy eagerly begun to present the vehicles. This was what he had been waiting for.
"Bruce." He begun, pointing over to a huge bronze colored Kenworth W990 semi-truck. "You will be assigned to this powerhouse. It will become a mobile defense unit with a battering ram in the front, dual cannons and a detachable ATV armed with vibration cannons. The sleeping cab houses a high-tech computer lab equipped among other things with an ECCM (Electronic Counter-countermeasures), as well as a multi warhead missile launcher."
He then stepped over in front of the other truck, which was a cab over engine with a trailer.
"This truck, which turns into an armored half-track will come with a special trailer. It will serve as a mobile command base housing a tactical operations center. The designated driver for it is Hal Everett."
He continued over to the Land cruiser.
"This car is fitted with different optic instruments, like pattern recognition, thermo graphic image magnification and movement sensors. Together with my brother, we figured that this would be a good vehicle for Hondo McLean."
Next in line was the car carrier.
"This one here as a rather innocent look, but it packs quite some power. Hidden underneath the ramps are two radar-guided missile launchers with automatic reloading. The cab section will rise up and reveal an elevated gun tower. We have selected Morten Øygard as the driver."
Some of the team members nudged each other while others glanced over at Morten.
"You seriously want to put Morten behind a wheel?" Paul chivvied. "I hope you got a good insurance on that car carrier, because I'm not certain that he can see properly behind these weird looking shades of his!"
There was laughter among the team, and none of them laughed harder than Morten. He had absolutely no problem with the often-returning quips regarding his odd looks.
"A truck driver is supposed to look rather peculiar." He chirped. "It goes with the job!"
"I thought a trucker should wear a Stetson and listen to Country & Western music." Buddie contemplated. He turned over to Bishop. "Do you like Country & Western music, Bish?"
"Maybe I could crank up some Barry White on the sound system?" Bishop suggested calmly.
Andy motioned for them to be silent so he could continue presenting the vehicles. He had now stepped over to one of the sports cars.
"This is one of the Fast Attack Vehicles and is fitted with an advanced computer system and armed with machine guns and rear rockets. All vehicles are fitted with GPS system as well as special cameras mounted under the side reflection mirrors that will help you to see in the cars blind spot. The cameras connected to the computer will register any vehicle that comes up behind…"
"Sir?" Dusty raised his hand.
Annoyed, Andy glanced towards him. Could not let him finish his demonstration before starting with the questions. Andy Trakker hated to get interrupted. Not that he had expected anything else. He had been warned that this bunch might be like that. Might just as well get it over with, though.
"What is the question?"
"Does these vehicles have names?"
Andy was about to say something but stopped in mid-sentence. For several seconds he was wondering if he had actually heard Dusty asking him the question he did, or if he had been speaking a foreign language that just happened to sound like a question about names.
Finally, he found his voice again.
"Names?" he repeated. "Well… Erm… This speedboat here is registered as A.T.S.V. seven-one-one-two."
"That's to unmanageable." Dusty dismissed. "If I in the middle of a battle have to warn Katrina about a bandit on her tail, I can't yell 'Watch out, N.H.T. Seven-four-one-one, you got a bandit at seven!' We need something shorter."
"Actually, her Jet glider is registered as A.T.S.V. Seven-five-one-two." Andy informed. "But I see your point."
He smiled at the team.
"Well then, why don't you give me some suggestions later on."? He suggested. "Give it a night's consideration and tell us about it tomorrow."
Andy hoped that he would be able to continue his presentation about the vehicles, but he was utterly disappointed as Brad immediately spoke up.
"No need to wait so long about it." He told. "I have already figured out a name for that transforming gyrocopter. Condor!"
"Well, I want to call my car Lightfoot!" Gloria decided. "Have you thought about a name for your bike, honey?"
"I'll go for something simple." Paul said. "Let's call it Scout."
Now it was all chatter as the agents begun to throw suggestions around them. Andy stood forgotten in front of the garage. This was hardly the announcement he would have preferred. He looked at Matt for support, but his younger brother showed little interest in putting his team in order.
"I'll go for Thunderhawk." Matt looked towards the car he knew that he had been assigned to. "How about you, Bishop? Have you got an idea for your truck?"
"I'm not so good at names." Bishop replied. "But perhaps Brad or Gloria can come up with something appropriate?"
Both Brad and Gloria thought for a few seconds before Gloria called out her suggestion.
"How about Juggernaut?" she asked. "It looks quite unstoppable, like a juggernaut."
"Then it will be Juggernaut." Bishop concluded.
"Aw nuts!" Brad said. "I was going to suggest Rhino!"
"I like it. Can I use it for my truck?" Bruce asked him. He immediately accepted, happy that his suggestion had been approved as well.
Everyone walked around their designated vehicles now, checking them out, trying to figure out just how they would be able to operate them.
"All right settle down people." Andy interrupted. "Why don't you all acquaint yourselves with the manuals?"
He lifted a manual that looked more like a phonebook. Matt smirked to himself. Among his team there was only one or two agents who would have the stamina to actually study it from cover to cover. The rest would settle with learning as they went along, as they usually did.
"Before you are actually allowed to ride in those vehicles, you will go through simulator programs." Andy explained. "We can't have you destroy them the first day, can we?"
The rest of the afternoon was spent on the daily rituals of training. During the evening some of them begun to study the manuals.
After the morning drill the following day, everyone was put into the simulators to test their vehicles under safe conditions. Several of the fliers later admitted that this was definitely for the best because they had managed to crash in the simulator already in the first run. But everyone was in good mood and joked about their simulator experiences during the dinner.
"The transformation sequence looks very fascinating in the simulation," Jacques explained. "I'm very anxious to try it out for real."
"The Turbofan jet glider is very different to fly compared to a helicopter," Katrina told. "I have to learn to tilt the turbofans in order to maneuver. I swiveled them to quickly after taking-off, so the craft stalled and belly-landed."
"I suggest that you all take notes of things like this and hand them over to Andy and the other engineers next time we see them." Matt suggested. "It's not impossible that they have left something out, and they are just happy if we can point those errors out before an accident occurs."
During the following two weeks, the agents of the Special Missions Force spent most of their days in simulator training, to learn as much as possible about their new vehicles and their advanced weapons system. Unfortunately, it was just under the simulator training that the high-ranked politicians together with Hugh Heyman and Helena Bennett choose to make their visit to the training field. His usual staff of bodyguards, driver and secretary accompanied Sir George. The politicians did not like what they saw.
"Is this what we are spending a fortune on?" Senator Ross Brewster asked irritated as they had finished their tour. "To have the team sit and play computer games?"
"Senator," Hugh Heyman pointed out. "This is an important part of the training. If we would put the men in the vehicles too quickly, we would lose both men and machines."
"We would lose a fortune." Helena Bennett added sarcastically.
Both Senator Brewster and Sir George snorted; they did not like to be put in their place by a secretary.
"So how long will this simulator training commence?" Sir George asked. "We have already lavished this team with more advanced computers and equipment than the Pentagon has. And we don't even know if this threat from the Syndicate exists. As far as we know, the Syndicate is just a rumor."
"Hogwash!" H.H. protested. "You know as well as I do that the Syndicate is behind all those terror attacks we've seen during the last year."
"As far as I recall, no one has yet to accept any responsibility whatsoever." Senator Brewster pointed out. "All this Syndicate nonsense has been blown all out of proportion and it does not justify the expenses this project of yours demand. I say that the police should deal with the terrorists, while the US Army concentrate their resources on defending our country from hostile take-overs!"
"Our best intelligence sources believe that the Syndicate is highly organized, well-funded and a serious threat to national security!" H.H. insisted.
"If that is a fact," Brewster asked. "Then why aren't these men and women out on the job instead of playing with computer games?"
"If the Special Missions Force is put into action before they have completed their training, they would probably cause more damage to civilian property than the terrorists they are assembled to battle." Helena pointed out calmly. "I take it that the last thing our country needs is a mindless guerrilla warfare with a group of undisciplined cowboys in super-high-tech vehicles turning our nation's capital into the OK Corral."
"Well stated, Helena." H.H. said. "The Special Missions Force is organized to maintain order in our country, not to add to the chaos."
Sir George tried another approach.
"H.H." He said. "This is a multimillion-dollar operation. We have invested a fortune in this project, and we have yet to see any results that might convince us that we did the right choice."
"You have to give it time!" H.H. informed him firmly. "We are targeting businesses suspected of fronting for the Syndicate, but you just don't uncover a secret underground organization over the night!"
"That may be." Brewster agreed. "But your department has been working for nine months now and still you haven't been able to uncover anything solid."
"Our best lead went up in smoke two months ago." H.H. said grimly. "Via an order that no one will accept the responsibility of ever issuing!"
"It seems to me that you've lost more than you've gained. Perhaps it's time to review your funding and…"
"I wouldn't call it a complete failure." Sir George interrupted carefully. "At least Colonel Wolfs actions prevented those weapons from reaching the streets."
"You are forgetting that the purpose of this task force is to contain the violence, not allowing it to escalate to the point where the civilian population will be threatened." H.H. pushed. "Law enforcement cannot be entrusted to someone who shots first and thinks later! I can never condone the actions Colonel Wolf took against the cold store!"
Hugh's outburst was followed by a long moment of uncomfortable silence. The two politicians had talked themselves into a dead end.
It was Hugh that broke the silence.
"This team will be ready and operational in time for the Peace building commission in New York." He promised. "With all the important politicians present, we believe that this will be the logical time for the Syndicate to stage their coup."
The two politicians settled with this. They turned and headed for their car, H.H. nodded to Helena, before he hurried after the two men and accompanied them towards the gate.
Matt, who had been standing by the door with his arms crossed over his chest, was about to leave as well when Helena turned to him.
"Walk with me please." It was more an instruction than a question, and Matt realized that she had some information for him that was not meant to be overheard.
They left the simulator arena and walked out on the yard.
"There are a few things that we have not allowed the politicians to learn." She told him as the yard became less crowded. "The CIA cracked a known terrorist organizations' database last week. In it they found detailed description of the Microwave transmitter satellite."
Matt's eyes opened wide.
"The one we brought over from Hanscom?"
"The same." Helena confirmed. "We were foolish enough to bring the prototype to a less secured position. The few hours that the prototype was on location in Parris Island was just enough for an undercover agent to inspect it thoroughly. Measures to counter the effectiveness of the satellite are possibly being made even as we speak."
"It must have been someone close to the team," Matt guessed. "Only the people in our team and your office knew that the satellite was at the base. My team are all accounted for. No one left his or her quarters. Have you checked Sergeant Stillman?"
"Neither Sergeant Stillman, nor anyone in your team has access codes to the room the satellite was stored in." Helena explained. "The only logical possibility is that someone in our department has leaked information to the Syndicate."
"Our inside man?"
"It's doubtful that he was there in person." She dismissed. "He probably has an agent operating on the field and provided him with the necessary access codes."
"If they have people located in our military camps, the Syndicate must be considered bigger than just a terrorist organization."
"And when you think about it," Helena added. "There's really not much that we do know about the Syndicate, is it?"
Matt thought about the few leads they had, and the ones they were trying to uncover.
"What about the internal affairs?" He asked. "Has it led anywhere?"
"Yes. We discovered that a Lieutenant Max Wallace from the New Orleans Police Department has been selling information to Curt Harker for quite some time."
"At least it explains how the Syndicate learned about the observation post. Dirty cops are almost as old as crime," He said. "But sadly, I assume that he was nothing but a small fry. He probably didn't know of anyone else than Harker."
"Quite possible." Helena replied. "Unfortunately, we won't be able to learn anything from him. He died of heart failure in Federal Custody, just hours after being interrogated by Colonel Wolf."
"Convenient." Matt snorted.
"Yes. We will have to wait for the result of the autopsy, but it's not unlikely that he was silenced."
"I assume that you checked him thoroughly when he was arrested?" Matt asked.
She nodded.
"So there are no leads?"
"Not from the investigation," Helena confirmed. "But Lisa is checking up on Jefferson Pratt, the owner of the Cold Store, tracing his financial transactions, known customers and naturally his connections to Alexander Osborne, who is a known terrorist. We used photographs taken on some of the visitors to the cold store and traced their actual identities. All of them are mercenaries with involvement in past covert operations."
"But Pratt can swear ignorance." Matt pointed out. "He could claim that Osborne operated without his knowledge."
"Precisely." Helena nodded. "We need to find something admissible, because that man has powerful contacts where it counts."
Matt looked towards the gate where he could see Sir George's limousine leave the camp.
Helena read his thoughts.
"You are right." She said as she prepared to leave. "That is why we are keeping a lid on our operations. Investigating the men of high breed and respect is a touchy subject. Sir George could order us to close down the investigation."
She begun to walk towards the gate were Hugh Heyman's own limousine was waiting.
"If you get any of those brainstorms of yours, don't hesitate to phone us." She called back to him. "Any ideas will be welcome."
After sufficient time in the simulators, it was decided that the agents were to start training in the actual vehicles. The team had to be ready for the top-meeting in New York and there was a shortage of time.
Matt Trakker regarded Thunderhawk as he prepared to climb inside. In its conventional mode, it looked like an ordinary sixth generation Camaro, but in its case, looks were definitely deceiving as there were nothing ordinary about it.
He sat down behind the wheel and strapped himself into a five-point harness, similar to the ones used in a NASCAR-racer. Before he started the engine, he looked at the instrument panel in front of him.
All the cars were with panels that was filled with highly advanced screens and controls. Each vehicle, no matter if it was a land-based vehicle or an air- or sea craft, had what was best described as a "glass cockpit," in which all information was presented to the pilot on small screens.
The on-board computer would plot a course of navigation through diagrammatic and suggest the most direct route, as well as using long-range radar to detect any possible obstructions ahead. A short-range visual scanner mounted in the front of the hood would analyze the immediate environment, and each car was also fitted with collision avoidance systems
The dashboard featured digital speedometers, fuel displays, oil, temperature, and volt display. At the right side of the dashboard, there were other controls as well as four other screens. Those involved automatic pilot, voice analyzer, infrared tracking scope (with a range of ten miles), trajectory guidance system, surveillance (infrared and x-ray detection), spectrograph and graphic translator. The screens involved other features such as a video data bank, and a tactical display. Another display showed information such as current and desired heading.
Matt took one last long look on the immediate surroundings, like a swimmer that for the first time in his life has climbed up to the highest position at the trampoline and looked down at the water below him. But then he made his decision. He reached for a lever beside him and the vehicle begun to undertake its transformation. The entire chassis begun to reconfigure and realign itself. The front split up to allow the nose cone of a fighter plane to rise. His seat was pushed into the canopy while the sides and the roof of the driver section flattened out to form the fuselage of the plane. Wings protruded from underneath and the side of the car while the aft section metamorphosed into fins and stabilizers. The car now resembled a supersonic jet, although considerably smaller. Andy had described it as allowing the team to get in close to their enemy without being spotted and limiting the panic among the public. A squadron of espionage vehicles disguised as conventional air, sea, and land craft.
The craft was fitted with advanced microprocessors that would compensate for any tactical errors made by the pilot, rendering it just short of self-sufficient. It would make use of a variety of advanced image intensification, high resolution infra-red and motion tracking capabilities supported by a dedicated and integrated digital sensor/scanner array system that would be instantly analyzed by the tactical computer and a suggested course of action would be presented to the pilot.
"I wonder what you are going to have drivers for," Hondo had complained to Andy. "It sounds to you like this car would operate perfectly well without us."
This had caused Andy to go into one of his long lectures about the symbiosis between man and machine, but Hondo had promptly shut him up.
Matt shut the memory back and focused on his task, donned his helmet, and ran a quick status check and engaged the engines. He spread Thunderhawk's wings that were swung back alongside the fuselage of the craft while not being in use and raised the tailfins. He taxied out and fed the engine more power, enough to provide his fighter with vertical momentum in order to take off. Although it was Matt who piloted the craft, the entire procedure of getting the vehicle into the air was controlled by on-board computers to provide the most precise take off trajectory, preventing it from stalling.
Once up in the air, Matt threw a look out through the canopy. He was amazed at how fast the outlines of Thomas Jefferson training field shrank behind him. The craft packed more power than he had ever realized. He fed more power to Thunderhawk's jet boosters, curious at how fast the craft could fly and angled the nose of his plane with the horizon and concentrated at keeping it steady, something that was easier than he had feared. He kept the course for some time before he realized that it might be time to head back and made a wide turn to go back the way he had come.
A few minutes later he circled above the training facility. The others were also toying around with their vehicles, and he directed his looks on Katrina Dombrowski who came in for landing with Phalanx. The wasp-like craft was hovering and dipping, and he could clearly see how the down blast whipped the dust adrift. It occurred to Matt that this was the part that worried him the most, the landings. He knew that Andy had said that the computer would calculate the safest trajectory and bring the vehicle down in the safest angle as possible, but still he felt a sting of worry for the landing.
Katrina made a perfect landing, easing the craft down on a helicopter pad.
A controller waved to him, indicating that the runway was clear for him to land. Matt decreased speed and sailed downwards. Thunderhawk rocked slightly when the computer took over and levelled the craft and re-angled it for the landing. He relaxed and allowed the computer to guide it down on the field.
Once he came to a stop, he shut down the engine, un-strapped himself and climbed out.
Andy came up to him.
"How did it feel, little brother?" He asked.
"It was a fascinating experience." Matt admitted. "But I got to admit that the landing worried me a bit."
"Well, it might look like an aircraft, but this isn't like flying an ordinary one." Andy pointed out. "That is why we have put so much effort into the on-board computers. But don't rely too heavily on the computers to bring the vehicle down for you. If the computer would be disabled during battle, you must be able to bring it down on your own. We will practice these conditions once all of you have been more acquainted with your vehicles."