Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12 (22 page)

Admiral Packard paced on the neatly mown grass that covered
the slope, looking up in annoyance as a pair of Marine AH-1 Super Cobra
helicopters made another low and slow pass directly overhead.  Below him
were the blue waters of Pearl Harbor, the USS Arizona memorial gleaming in the
late afternoon sun.  The water around it held a rainbow sheen from oil
that still leaked out of the sunken battleship, even after nearly three-quarters
of a century. 

Several senior officers stood around him as he puffed
furiously on a cigarette.  They were having a meeting, and the Admiral hadn’t
been able to take another minute in the confines of his conference room. 
Though he’d never admit it, he detested the politics and administrative duties
that came along with his rank and position.  If he had a choice, he’d let
someone else take over, and he’d be back on the bridge of a front-line ship in
a heartbeat.

Surrounding the group of officers was a squad of heavily
armed Marines.  Several times it had been necessary for them to direct
personnel in a direction that did not bring them too close.  Rumors
abounded of the Russians having sent Spetsnaz teams into Hawaii, ahead of the
invasion fleet, with the intent of softening up the target by destroying
infrastructure and assassinating senior officers.

Marine Captain Charles Black, who was in command of the
squad, was in a foul mood as a result.  While there was no solid
intelligence to support the rumors, he well knew that this was one of the times
that the gossip was based on reality.  There was a very real probability
there were Russian special operations troops already on the ground.

Despite his strenuous protests, the Admiral had overruled
him and taken the meeting out into the open.  In a scramble, Black had put
two helos in the air, posted Marine snipers on several rooftops around the area
and assigned two additional squads to patrol a broad perimeter.  Even with
the added protection, he still wasn’t happy.  There were just too many
places where an assassin could get a shot off at Packard.

So, he stayed close to the old man.  Closer than
protocol would dictate for a protection detail, but he didn’t care.  He
was prepared to throw the Admiral to the ground and cover him with his own body
at the slightest indication of trouble. 

The Cobras slowly moved away to make another orbit of the area,
and Packard shot an irritated glance at the Marine Captain.  Black met his
eyes and resisted the temptation to smile.  If the Admiral didn’t like the
increased security measures, he could damn well stay in his nice, safe office.

As the roar of the helicopter’s engines and rotors faded,
Packard looked around at the assembled officers and resumed speaking.

“I was asking if we’ve seen any effect on the Russian fleet
in response to our broadcasts.”

“No, sir.  Not so far.”  One of them
answered.  “But we’ve only been on station, transmitting the audio and
video for less than an hour.  I believe we can safely assume the
broadcasts are being received, but we are having to rotate amongst several B-2s
so the enemy fleet cannot triangulate the signal.”

“How long do you think it will take for an uprising as a
result?”  The Admiral speared the man with his eyes.

“Difficult to say, sir.  But something like that takes time
to boil over.  And, it’s going to depend mostly on the senior NCOs in the
fleet.  They can’t stop it if the enlisted are truly incensed, but they
can slow it down.  Conversely, if they’re of the same mind and lead an
insurrection, it could begin at any moment.  Commander Marx did an
excellent job, and I have a hard time imagining it will not inflame the already
simmering tensions within their ranks.”

“What’s the latest estimate on the Russians making
landfall?”

A Marine one-star General stepped forward, preparing to
answer Packard’s question.  Before any words came out of his mouth, one of
the Super Cobras began firing its 20mm Gatling gun.  The sound was like
the very fabric of the air was being ripped apart, and Captain Black responded
immediately, slamming into the Admiral.

No one heard the shots over the din of the helicopter firing
and the shouts of the protection detail as they faced outwards and backed in to
place their bodies between the threat and the senior officers they were
guarding.  The Marine General’s head exploded, a bloody mist spraying the
faces of two naval officers standing next to him.

Admiral Packard grunted in pain as he hit the ground, Black
landing on top of him an instant later.  He struggled to raise his head,
but the younger man was stronger and kept him pinned flat on the grass. 
It took the Captain several seconds to realize there was blood on his hands,
and he couldn’t tell if it was his or the Admiral’s.

The Super Cobra ceased firing but remained in a hover above
a forested hill that overlooked the area.  Men were screaming over the
radio and Black roared into his to regain control.  Soon, an
all clear
was broadcast by the helicopter pilot.  Looking around, the Captain saw
that all of the officers were prone on the grass, his squad of Marines in a
tight perimeter around the group, each on one knee with their rifles aiming
out.

Just because the sniper had been eliminated didn’t mean
there wasn’t another one.  Black barked several commands into the radio, a
moment later leaping to his feet and bodily lifting the Admiral off the
ground.  Blood stained Packard’s normally immaculate uniform blouse, but
this wasn’t the time or place to assess his injuries.

With a shouted order, Captain Black charged for the nearest
building, one arm around the Admiral.  He bore most of the man’s weight as
they ran, doing the best he could to shield Packard’s body with his.  The
two Marines guarding the entrance to the building saw him coming and ran
forward, taking up position behind him to protect the Admiral from the
possibility of another shooter.

They charged through the entrance, a few seconds later the
remaining officers with the protection detail running in behind them. 
Black stopped, turning and holding Packard’s shoulders in his hands and
bellowed for a medic.  He was focused on looking for the source of the
blood on the Admiral’s torso and was surprised when the older man pushed his
hands away and took a step back.

“Thank you, Captain.  It’s only my arm.  I’ll
live,” Packard said.

Black gaped at him, having already arrived at the incorrect
conclusion that the Admiral had been shot in the chest or back.  Packard
looked at him for a beat before extending his right hand.

“Captain, my sincere apologies for not having heeded your
concerns.  I’ll not dismiss them again.”

Still stunned, Black stared at the offered hand. 
Finally, he remembered there was an Admiral standing in front of him, and he
took Packard’s hand.

“No apology necessary, sir,” he said.  “I’m just
relieved you’re ok.”

Packard released his hand and turned to look through the
heavy, glass doors.  The body of the Marine still rested on the pristine
lawn, blood staining the front of his sharply creased shirt.  His eyes narrowed,
and he barely acknowledged a Navy medic that ran up and began cutting away his
left sleeve to access the bullet wound.

“Captain!”  Packard barked as the medic began applying
a compression bandage.  “Do you have enough men to lock down the base and
search for any other intruders?”

“No, sir,” Black immediately answered, shaking his
head.  “We’re running a skeleton force.  I’ve got half a dozen squads
at my disposal.  Every other man is preparing the defenses on Mt. Kaala. 
Do you want me to pull some back to secure the base?”

“Negative,” the Admiral said after a long pause. 
“Those efforts are more important to our defense.  There are obviously
advance enemy teams on the ground.  We can’t afford to have them running
around and creating havoc there, too.  Advise the defenders at Mt. Kaala
of events so they can take additional precautions.”

“Yes sir,” Black snapped, turning away to speak into his
radio.

“Admiral, I need to get you to the hospital.  The
bullet went all the way through, but you still need to be X-rayed and treated.”

“Belay that, sailor,” Packard said.  “Just wrap it
tight.  And if you’ve got some aspirin, I’d appreciate it.”

“But, sir…”

“You heard me.”

“Aye, aye sir.”

The medic suppressed a sigh and did as asked.  When he
had completed his task, a thick, white bandage encased the Admiral’s arm from
elbow to shoulder.  He dug through his bag and produced a small bottle of
Tylenol and handed it to Packard.

Thanking him, the Admiral turned and headed into the
building.  Captain Black, expecting he would be waiting for an ambulance,
rushed to catch up with him.

“No hospital, sir?”

They swept through a security checkpoint and boarded an
elevator.  The Admiral leaned forward and peered into a retina
scanner.  When the screen turned green, he pressed an unmarked button on
the panel.

“Hospitals are for the Army, Captain,” Packard growled.

Black snorted a laugh then fell silent as the elevator car
began descending.  It kept going for nearly a minute, finally stopping on
a level the Marine Captain had rarely been to.  When the doors slid open,
four heavily armed Marines were waiting.  They stepped back, staring at
the Admiral when he strode into the large vestibule with Black in tow.

“You’ll need to wait out here, Captain.”

Packard had paused at a heavy steel, blast door.  Black
acknowledged and backed away as the Admiral submitted to another retinal
scan.  Again, the panel turned green and with a rumble, the large door slid
open.  The Captain caught a glimpse of a massive room full of computer
terminals before Packard passed inside and the door trundled closed, sealing
with a solid
boom
he felt in his feet.

“Is the Admiral OK, sir?”

One of the guards stepped up next to Black.

“He’s one tough old sailor, that’s for sure,” the Captain
replied.

Inside the room, several people looked up when the door
closed.  Several of them did a double take at the sight of Admiral
Packard.  His uniform was stained bright red, his thinning hair was a mess
and blood was already beginning to seep through the thick bandage on his
arm.  A Navy Captain rushed forward to greet him.

“Sir.  I wasn’t expecting you.  Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Captain.  Point me at Seaman Simmons.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said, hesitating for a beat before
turning.  “She’s right over there, with Captain West.”

Packard nodded and strode across the floor.  Jessica
looked up and saw him coming, leaping to her feet with a look of concern on her
face.  Captain West turned and came forward to meet the Admiral.

“Sir?  What’s happened?”

He took a closer look at the Admiral, assessing his health.

“Russian advance team took a shot at me,” Packard said
dismissively before turning to face Jessica.  “Seaman.  How is your
work coming?  We need our comms and surveillance back.”

“Uh, well… sir,” Jessica stammered, thrown off by the
Admiral’s condition.  “I just loaded an updated anti-virus program, and
it’s running.  This is my fourth attempt to eradicate the Russian
worm.  I’ve gotten some of it, but if I don’t get it all, it just rebuilds
itself and keeps on chewing through code.”

“Are you optimistic this iteration will be
successful?”  The Admiral asked.

“Cautiously, yes sir.  I’ve learned from each of the
past failed attempts.  I’m hopeful this one will be it.”

Packard looked at her for a long moment, then slowly lowered
himself into an empty chair.  Pulling out the bottle of Tylenol, he shook
four of them into his hand and dry swallowed them.

“Sir, shouldn’t you be in the hospital?”  Jessica
asked, after rushing across the room and retrieving a bottle of water from a
small refrigerator.

The Admiral waved off her concerns and drained the bottle
without stopping.

“Seaman, forgive my ignorance, but we have a protected copy
of the code the Russians infected, don’t we?”

“Yes, sir.  We do.”

“Well, that’s good.  What I don’t understand is why you
can’t do what the Geek Squad did when my personal, home computer was badly
infected a few years ago.  They wiped it clean and reinstalled the operating
system.  It worked fine after that.”

Jessica exchanged a quick glance with Captain West before
answering.  She was concerned that Packard obviously didn’t remember that
had been the first thing she had tried.

“Sir, that was one of the first things I tried when we found
the virus.  It didn’t work.”

“Explain,” the Admiral said.

“Sir, because of the nature of the interconnected systems,
the worm didn’t just infect us here in Hawaii.  It was quickly spread to
every ship and aircraft that was online.  And, while I can’t access them
currently to verify, I am confident it has also infected all of our remaining
communication and surveillance satellites, as well as the Thor System.

“What happened was, I wiped every server in Hawaii clean,
and started over with a fresh copy of the Battlespace Software.  At first,
it seemed as if that would work, but then as soon it made contact with a remote
server that was still infected, we wound up right back at square one.  If
there’s a trace of this worm left anywhere, it will rebuild and replicate
itself and start spreading. 

“The only way to regain full command and control of our
assets is to eradicate the worm completely, not just here, but on every server
we are in communication with.  Failing that, it will not be possible to
bring the system back online.”

Packard had listened attentively.  When Jessica
finished speaking, he looked at his aide.

“Captain, I believe you’ve tried to explain this to me,” he
said.