The Vaults of Heaven (AU)

[jemhouston]

Critters need to eat too.

That they do, and that was most assuredly the tribe’s attitude towards the Communists during World War III…

Critters need to eat was very much the attitude of those with a generous and charitable outlook.

Those who felt differently acted accordingly.

Critters don't need the whole bodies, just the legs and maybe the arms. The rest can still talk.

[Wolfman]

Good point, there.

[Poohbah]

Another brief update:

13 December 2010
11th Special Reconnaissance Squadron
Barzanian Air Force Base

Mantell reviewed the photographs, the map, and Dunn's report.

Jorgensen banged on the doorframe, and Mantell waved her in.

"Morning, XO."

"Good morning, sir. On deck for today is an 8K run in full tactical gear, followed immediately by a lovely morning at the Kill House, and practicing surreptitious network entry after lunch."

"Outstanding. I'll be out in a few. Captain Dunn found something while she was on duty last night, and I want you and Watanabe to look it over this afternoon. Might be nothing. Might be something. Might be the Big Enchilada."

Jorgensen sighed. "Boss, you are entirely too cheerful to deal with before morning PT." She asked, "What folder is it in on the share drive?"

Mantell smiled. "EBEN EMAEL."

Jorgensen stared at her commanding officer, then said, "You've gone off your chump."

"Look, if you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquialism to imply that my sanity is not up to scratch . . . you're probably right." He sighed. "Fixed fortifications are monuments to the stupidity of Man. If mountain ranges and ocean can be overcome . . . anything built by man can be overcome. The only question is if we're the ones that can do it."

* * *

13 December 2010
Tohono O'odham Nation Tribal Office Building
Sells, AZ

James Zepeda climbed out of the jeep and went to the entrance of the tribal office building. He presented his police credentials, and was told by the receptionist to head to Conference Room 2 in the basement.

Zepeda headed downstairs and noted that the basement walls were lined with steel cladding.

Conference Room 2 was well lit and comfortably furnished. A well-dressed sixtyish woman, graying hair neatly tied in a bun, was standing in the room. Zepeda had a sense he'd met her before.

"Officer Zepeda, thank you for coming. I am Wavalene Lewis, Special Advisor to the Chairman."

Zepeda's memory clicked; she'd been one the instructors at the Tohono O'odham Community College, where she'd taught American history and the history of the Tohono O'odham, or "The People of the Desert."

"Special Advisor for what, exactly?"

Lewis smiled. "Ah, that is the question, isn't it?"

Zepeda waited.

Lewis gestured to a chair. "Please sit down, we have much ground to cover."

Zepeda sat, and Lewis closed the door, then locked it.

She then went to the lectern. "Do you watch the Sunday news shows, by any chance?"

Zepeda nodded. "They've been focused on the mess with Mexico."

Lewis nodded. "And your encounter last night got my attention. We know Airman Sergeant Mantell; she's learning our language via distance tutoring, which is an interesting thing that, in my old job, would be called indicators and warnings." Lewis chuckled, then said, "And in my current job as Special Advisor to the Chairman for National Security Affairs."

Zepeda blinked in surprise. "We need a National Security Advisor?"

Lewis nodded, then asked, "How much of our history do you remember from TOCC? Specifically, the Gadsden Purchase?"

Zepeda nodded. "We didn't cross the border, the border crossed us."

Lewis nodded. "And that means that the People have security interests south of here. Our brothers and sisters have waited over 20 years for liberation from Mexico. We need to send people south to prepare the way. I looked at your records. Graduated near the top of your high school class, but not in one of the honors positions; served in the Army as a LRRP scout, and finished your obligation as a drilling reservist with our Ranger Scout unit; you're fluent in both our language and Spanish; you've worked undercover in the gang unit; and you are a prime practitioner of Himdag."

Himdag was the culture, way of life, and values uniquely held by the Tohono O’odham, the things that made them unique as a people. It covered everything from traditional methods of harvesting food to spirituality and community life.

Zepeda nodded. "I see." He paused, then said, "My wife and children?"

"We will tell them you're on a special assignment . . . and that it's important." She paused, then said, "Mexico is going to do something really stupid. You saw enough of that sort of thing in the gang unit; there's only so much trash talk that can happen before someone has to take a swing. We need to be ready to capitalize on it, to reunite our people. The border crossed us, true enough; but it needs to finish its journey."

Zepeda considered this, then said, "I accept."

[Matt Wiser]

Oh, boy. The tribe stirring things up south of the border is something POTUS doesn't need right now. Even though hostilities are pretty much a foregone conclusion, he's still trying various channels to try and cool this off, even though he knows it's a waste of time. "Hey, you can stir up your kin south of the border, but we'll let you know when it's time."

[Poohbah]

13 December 2010
East of Sierra Vista, AZ

The RQ-3 Darkstar cruised at 45,000 feet. Its sensors detected all manner of electromagnetic radiation and relayed it to its ground station.

It continued on its patrol station, utterly unconcerned with the take from those sensors.

* * *

Creech Air Force Base
Indian Wells, NV

Technical Sergeant Alicia Moreno blinked, then "rewound" the data feed from the Darkstar.

She made certain she knew what she was looking at, then spoke quietly into her headset. "Sir, I just picked up a air defense datalink that's about ten miles from the border. Looked like a quick network test."

Chief Warrant Officer 4 John Buff called up the feed on his workstation, looked it over carefully, then said, "I see it. Someone's being a very naughty boy. Make sure we get this out on the 12th Air Force GCCS-AF net."

Suddenly, a red diamond with the parabolic antenna and lightning bolt of a hostile radar, marked "SA-10 FCR."

Moreno said, "Sir, FLAP LID detected, geo-located to Rancho El Disel, Sonora!"

"Steady up, Sergeant."

The icon was suddenly surrounded by an ellipsoid showing the computer's estimate of where the radar could be going, indicating that it had gone off the air.

* * *

11th SRS
Barzanian Air Force Base

Mantell looked at the map and frowned.

Jorgensen banged on the door of the ops office and said, "12th Air Force is convening a VTC in 15, sir."

Mantell walked over to the squadron conference room. The GCCS-AF plot was on one of the big screens.

He checked his wheelbook and dialed a number at Fort Hood.

A man's voice answered. "116th Cavalry, CO's office, Staff Sergeant Rockwell speaking."

"Colonel Mantell for Colonel Mantell, if she's available."

Two seconds later, Helen's voice came over the phone. "Josh! This is a pleasant surprise."

"Let's go secure, TS, please."

After they'd secured the line, Helen said, "Well, now it's not as pleasant. What's up?"

"They just picked up air defense datalinks and an SA-10 fire control set in Sonora."

"Awful close to Risner."

"Indeed. Lots of racket up and down the border strip. But the thing is . . . our chunk of the US border is quiet."

Helen said, "Too quiet?"

"Exactly. As in 'Schnee Eifel quiet,' from December of '44."

"Josh, Pedro's missing something: they don't have the equivalent of the 6th SS Panzer Army. We do."

"Mm-hmm. But they're conspicuously trying to look inconspicuous."

Helen sighed. "And I don't have a logical answer for you. I'll bug my Two about it."

"Thank you."

"And don't do anything stupid, Josh."

"C'mon, you know me."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. Love you."

"Love you."

After he hung up, he tapped his fingers on the table. What are you up to, Pedro?

[jemhouston]

Nothing good or smart.