The Vaults of Heaven (AU)

[Poohbah]

8 February 1989
DIA Headquarters
King of Prussia, PA

Mantell finished his presentation, then asked, "Are there any questions at this time, ladies and gentlemen?"

Major General Kevin Bueller stuck his hand up.

"Yes, sir?"

"Is there any point to this OPLAN if that division's still laagered down just south of Mexicali?"

Mantell said, "Sir, this OPLAN is not going to happen unless that division's gone. That said, I expect that division equivalent to start looming larger and larger in TVD Amerika's calculations as spring approaches. I know we're making the big push to the Rio Grande--anyone who can read a map knows that, and I assume my adversary is at least as smart as I am. A division down in Mexicali is just eating rations and doing nothing useful."

Bueller considered this, then shot Lodge a glance.

* * *

"Chief Mantell, could you step into my office for a moment?"

Inside, Lodge shut the door and gestured Mantell to the couch.

"Good analysis in that briefing. That said . . . General Bueller and I both picked up on your frustration. You feel you're eating rations and contributing nothing."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, part of the nature of war is that you get assignments you don't want. There's an unwritten policy in the DoD that anyone who's been publicly awarded the Medal doesn't go forward. It is what it is. Politics enters into these things, as you should damn well know tomcatting around with someone from the Canyon family of Ventura--"

"Sir."

Mantell's tone was . . . soft.

Lodge shut up.

There was a long, chilly silence.

After three minutes or so, Mantell said, "Kathy and I exchanged salacious details about our antics. She was of the attitude that neither of us had a claim on the other until the war ended and one or the other of us proposed."

Lodge nodded, then said, "Chief . . . Joshua . . . what I said was completely beyond the paie. Please accept my apologies."

"Apology accepted, sir . . . we're good." Mantell sighed. "I think three-plus years of war has stressed us beyond what any reasonable person could handle."

Lodge mugged at Mantell and asked, "Gee, ya think?"

They shared a tired chuckle.

"It's just . . . sir, somewhere out there, some kid fresh out of School of Infantry at Pendleton is dying in his first firefight. And I'm . . . hobnobbing with the great and near-great, polishing a chair with my ass, and generally doing everything BUT my damn job partly because of this damn gong, and partly because I came up with the Ultra Secret of World War III." Mantell sighed. "It is what it is . . . but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with."

Lodge nodded, then asked, "You haven't taken any leave since we gave you two weeks to recover from losing Kathy, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, there's part of the problem. You need to take better care of yourself--didn't Doc Tulloch impress that on you? Look for an opportunity to take some time off, and I think you should avoid doing so alone. You strike me as the type who can become depressed if you're not with friends regularly. And don't let work get in your way. It'll still be there when you get back."

* * *

11 February 1989
Sixth Army HQ (Rear Detachment)

Canyon picked up the phone, desperate for break from reviewing the ammunition LOGREP summary before her. "Unsecure line, Theater Logistics Department, Major Canyon speaking, may I help you?"

"Major, this is Major General Lodge at DIA HQ. Let's go secure, please."

Canyon inserted the crypto key into the phone and waited for the beep that indicated the two phones had negotiated a session key.

"Good afternoon sir, how may I help you?"

"I understand you're friends with Josh Mantell."

"Yes, sir."

"I also understand--and please don't ask how--that you're planning to visit your folks next month, and your friends are coming with you."

"Yes, sir. Um, it's mostly a round of planning for my wedding."

"Ah, yes. To Captain MacAllaster, right?"

"Yes, sir."

After a moment, Lodge asked, "Do you have a date?"

"As soon as possible after the ceasefire. I just want to be ready to go, sir."

"As you have no doubt learned by now in the theater logistics business, chance favors the well-prepared mind, Major. Will Josh have any role in the wedding?"

"He'll be giving Debs--Captain MacAllaster--away." She paused, then said, "Her parents don't approve."

Lodge sighed, then said, "As General LeMay is fond of saying, 'times change, and we have to change with them.' It'd be a lot easier on all of us if everyone recognized that simple truth. Well, you have your excuse for inviting him."

"Ah. Sir, Roberta is his ex-"

"I know that--I knew it before I recruited him into AFSOC. And I know he's a 'friend with benefits' for both of you, Major. Again, times change. I'm asking you because he very desperately needs to take a rest. Rancho Cañon up in Ojai is very conducive to rest and relaxation--your Uncle Michael had me out there as a guest after the Saigon evacuation in 1975, when I desperately needed to get my head straight."

"Wait . . . sir, are you the guy Uncle Michael took horseback riding and hunting? I was the tall, gangly girl with braces wondering why everything was so hush-hush--Dad told me to not mention you being there to anyone at school."

"That's me."

"For the record, you looked pretty good on a horse. You've been taught."

"So has Josh, by the way. His father, God rest his soul, was very old school."

"Well, sir, I'll invite him. I take it I'm not going to accept 'no' for an answer, right?"

"Use whatever persuasion is necessary, Major."

"Understood, sir."

"Thank you. This really does mean a lot to me."

* * *

12 March 1989
Rancho Cañon
Ojai Valley, CA

There were hugs all around with Jeanna, Debs, Roberta, and Helen. Finally, they got to Josh, whereupon Avery Canyon extended his hand and said, "Welcome to our home, sir. It's a privilege to be your host."

"Thank you, sir, it's a privilege to be here."

Melissa Canyon then proceeded to give him a hug. "Welcome."

"Thank you, ma'am."

They received a ten-dollar rubberneck tour of the mansion house which led to their assigned bedrooms. Avery said, "Dinner starts with cocktails at 6:00 PM, formal attire--not black or white tie, just formal."

Mantell took the opportunity to ensure his Combo One was ready to go, then sat down and began cleaning his M12 service pistol.

There was a knock at the door, and Josh said, "Come in."

It was Jeanna. "All right, I told Mom & Dad that you're going to be armed."

"How'd they take it?"

"They're good with it. Mom figures that you're an expert, Dad understands this." She paused, then said, "General Lodge asked me to bring you out here."

Josh nodded. "I understand."

"Do you?"

Josh raised an eyebrow.

"Josh . . . my mother is the kid sister of someone named Michael Briggs--"

"The Third?"

"You know?"

"Runs the CIA's quieter sibling, known informally as 'The Firm.' Remember my little misadventure last year? How do you think I got all the way to Philadelphia in the midst of the biggest manhunt in US history without getting caught? Michael the Archangel and General Lodge looking out for me."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I get it, you guys have crazy money, and you're tied into the American Establishment. The Briggs family has crazy money, going all the way back to when they helped Roger Williams set up Providence Plantations in 1636, and they've also contributed about half a dozen general and flag officers, a dozen or so ambassadors, a like number of special envoys, and a plethora of intelligence officers from the days of the Culper Ring to the present."

Jeanna's eyes widened.

"And I know about your role in the melee outside Douglas."

"How?"

"You know how Phase Line PATRIOT got its name, right? The Class of 1985 gave the last full measure of devotion. They aren't just names on a list to me. Many of them were my friends. And you and your logistics company raced forward to deliver ammo at the height of the battle. You should have gotten the Medal."

Jeanna shook her head.

"Josh . . . I shot a couple of deserters from First Brigade."

Mantell looked at her.

"Without trial."

"Were they attempting to continue fleeing the battlefield?"

Jeanna nodded.

"I don't see the problem."

"Army politics. And one of the guys I shot had parents who donate the max to their Congressman to make sure they have a friend in Philly--the family's involved in pretty shady stuff." She sighed. "If the Army had tried to recognize it, it would've turned into spoiled rich girl shoots poor kid from wrong side of railroad tracks."

"You did the right thing."

"It won't ever be recognized as such. And I'm OK with that. My family has never been one for public honors for ourselves. We remember our ancestors or deserving persons when we do philanthropy, all the way back to when we were granted Rancho Cañon by His Most Catholic Majesty, Charles the Fourth." She gave him one her most dazzling smiles. "Yes, you're talking to a genuine piece of history, a no-kidding Californio, a daughter of conquistadores!"

Mantell bent to her ear and whispered, "Usually us Mantells end up getting screwed by history, not the other way around."

Jeanna wagged her finger at him and said, "Naughty, naughty!"

* * *

Mantell was downstairs a few minutes early in Combo Ones, with full ribbons and trousers bloused into spit-shined jump boots.

Avery Canyon smiled pleasantly. "Ordinarily, I'd offer you a margarita, but the good tequila was expended in 1987. How does a Mai Tai sound?"

"Sounds perfect, sir."

* * *

Dinner was somewhat more formal than it had been in Mantell's home growing up, but far less formal than at a dining-in or mess night. Also in attendance was Avery's brother, Thomas, and his family

Conversation was light, and stayed away from news of the war or current business; Mantell learned a fair amount about the Canyon family, and about life in the Upper Ojai Valley. In turn, Mantell talked about growing up in San Diego, being a Navy brat, and becoming a special operator.

Josh savored the excellent food and pleasant company.

Avery Canyon was explaining how the family's name changed. "So, there was Great-Great-Grandpa Enrique Cañon, with what was by all accounts a most refined Oxbridge accent, and he decides he's going to get in on this transcontinental rail thingamajig. So he goes up to San Francisco via private stage--which was a pretty big journey back then--and introduces himself as Henry Canyon, who owned a ranch in Santa Barbara, and he'd like to buy in on the Central Pacific. His shares in hand, he goes back home, and tells Doña Catalina that she's about to be Katherine Canyon." Avery grinned. "Doña Catalina was less than thrilled about this turn of events, and made sure to let him know. And then the railroad paid off, he's one of the few people who hadn't pledged his shares as collateral against a mortgage, and he ends up making crazy amounts of money. Doña Catalina decided that, well, if mangling the spelling of her name was the price of this good fortune, she could tolerate it--but the Rancho would retain its correct name. Don Henry was agreeable, and here we are."

* * *

The next two weeks were spent in horseback riding, swimming, sightseeing in Ojai, shopping at Bart's Outdoor Bookstore, and generally relaxing.

The night before he was scheduled to return to Williams, Avery Canyon took him aside.

"Josh . . . if I didn't know better, I'd say my daughter and her friends all love you."

Josh nodded. "It's something of a running joke."

"That is most certainly not a joke." Avery paused, then said, "Josh . . . I suspect that my daughter will want to have children, and she's going to want you to be the father."

"Well, sir, if that comes, I'll have a talk with her--"

Avery chuckled, then said, "Josh."

Josh looked at him and waited.

"If you haven't figured it out yet, arguing with my daughter simply does not work. I don't care how tough special operations training made you, she's tougher. Oh, she'll never throw a tantrum. But I'm pretty sure she's leaned on you more than once, and you ended up being reasonable and doing what she wanted, right?"

Josh chuckled ruefully. "Yes, sir."

"I know you've lost the woman you love, and I understand you and Roberta have a past, and my daughter is committing to another relationship. All I ask is that . . . if you end up fathering a child with Jeanna and/or Debs, that you will be a father, and not merely a sperm donor."

"I couldn't have it any other way, sir."

Avery nodded. "I figured as much. Come, let's have some brandy."

* * *

21 April 1989
TVD Amerika HQ
Fort Sam Houston, TX

Marshal Kribov looked at the map again.

Damn it all.

Nothing had changed.

"Pavel Leonidovich, I don't know where else we could come up with anothet division."

General Alekseyev tapped the map by Mexicali. "We've got a division equivalent sitting there, doing nothing. The Americans are focused here--where the war will be won. We need to do likewise."

"Pavel Leonidovich, I don't disagree. But could the Americans take advantage of us doing that?"

"In 1986, yes. Not today. They've shut down their new division training at Fort Irwin, everything's up in North Dakota, at Sacajawea Maneuver Area."

Kribov nodded. "Very well. We will need to make sure the Americans don't figure out that we left Baja California unguarded."

"The staff is drawing up a maskirovka plan now.[/i]

* * *

TVD Amerika
Radio-Electronic Combat Staff

Colonel Dmitri Safronov consulted a book of prime numbers and came up with 262,807.

"All right, I need 262,807 seconds of garbage traffic on tape."

Major Yevgeni Larubin nodded, and went to a table to begin drawing chits with smaller prime numbers from a box, writing out rows of thirteen numbers, and adding them together at the end, keeping a running total.

Four hours later, he had a stack of tapes ready to go.

Safronov nodded. "Well, Yevgeni Antonovich, that was the easy part. But our piece is done. Excellent work."

[clancyphile]

Alexseyev and Kribov just opened the door...

[Matt Wiser]

And when the time comes, that door's going to be wide open, just waiting for U.S. Forces to walk through.

[Johnnie Lyle]

Lodge pulling more strings in the background.

Here’s the thing about leave - taking it assumes it’s beneficial and there’s somebody to mind the store. Sometimes the worst thing is too much time in your head. Work is often a bulwark against the chaos at the door.

[Johnnie Lyle]

And when the time comes, that door's going to be wide open, just waiting for U.S. Forces to walk through.

Do they want to walk through it? Or just let others do so?

[Poohbah]

Lodge pulling more strings in the background.

Here’s the thing about leave - taking it assumes it’s beneficial and there’s somebody to mind the store. Sometimes the worst thing is too much time in your head. Work is often a bulwark against the chaos at the door.

There's work, and then there's work.

Pushing paper for a project that's doing nothing but eating time and money without forward motion is going to be frustrating. Now, ideally, he should be putting together a raid behind enemy lines such that the first inkling they have that he was ever in the area is when the supply truck rolls up to a POW camp and all the prisoners are gone, all of the personnel are dead, and the box of Cuban cigars and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the commandant's desk has been replaced by a fuse train connected to the drawer lock that fires ten pounds of C4 surrounded by 20 pounds of razor wire...but spending some time with friends who've supported him in his grief will suffice.

[jemhouston]

I've been think of the Culper Ring lately. We now know the name of Lodge's informal agency, Culper Deuce.

[Wolfman]

I've been think of the Culper Ring lately. We now know the name of Lodge's informal agency, Culper Deuce.

Works for me.

[jemhouston]

What amazes me is Archangel has a kid sister not in the family business. Or is she?

[Poohbah]

What amazes me is Archangel has a kid sister not in the family business. Or is she?

About the only person who MIGHT be in the biz in Ojai is a former tennis star and schoolteacher named Jamie Sommers. And even that's kind of hazy.

[Belushi TD]

This is rapidly becoming one of my favorite Red Dawn stories, even if it IS AU.

Thank you!

Belushi TD

[jemhouston]

What amazes me is Archangel has a kid sister not in the family business. Or is she?

About the only person who MIGHT be in the biz in Ojai is a former tennis star and schoolteacher named Jamie Sommers. And even that's kind of hazy.

If you had a defector that needed destressing and some general conversation, that family would be a good place for it. Noblesse oblige, duty to country, family, then self.

[Poohbah]

03 June 1989
TASK FORCE ACHERNAR Headquarters
Williams AFB, AZ

Mantell looked over the daily reports and sighed, secured them in the safe, then walked down to Kaffee's office.

"Chief Mantell! What's up?"

"I'm missing something, sir. Damned if I have any idea what, though."

Kaffee nodded. "It's been awfully quiet--"

And Mantell's tactical senses came alive. "Hold that thought, sir!"

He ran back to his office and got the daily reports out of the safe.

He dashed back to Kaffee's office, almost running over Major Sotomayor, who ran after him.

"Jesus, Mantell!"

Mantell stuck his head in Kaffee's office. "Let's go to the Vault!" He turned to Sotomayor. "I might be onto something."

All three men raced to the library vault.

* * *

A photomap of the border strip between Calexico and Mexicali was on the wall, covered by an acetate sheet.

Kaffee and Sotomayor were going through the report archive and calling off events. Mantell was marking dates on the acetate.

Ishizake stepped into the vault, and Mantell called, "Ten-HUT!"

"As you were! Let's try to pretend we're doing something useful instead of jumping up and down. What's happening?"

Kaffee said, "Nothing at all, sir, which is apparently really something."

Ishizake looked at Kaffee with a skeptical eye. "Come again, Ell-Tee?"

Mantell said, "Remember that scratch Soviet/Cuban division in Mexicali, sir?"

Ishizake nodded. "Yeah, the dragon snoring on top of our treasure. Well, he says it's his, and until we can shank the silly bastard, well, I"m not arguing with him."

"They haven't done a damn thing in over two months. No cross-border activity of any kind, not even when a 'Vark from 20th TFW jettisoned ordnance practically on top of them. But they're shoving out radio traffic as always, NSA's saying that there's minor variations, but day-to-day volume remains the same."

Kaffee frowned.

Ishizake looked at him. "You got something?"

"Yeah, something I read before the war. It was a memoir by one of the guys that helped break Enigma. Went into some detail as to how they did it, I only understood some of it. One of the things they looked for was identical or very similar patterns in traffic--that was probably the same message in a different key. There was an island in the Aegean that the Germans had occupied, and within a few minutes of midnight, right after the daily key change, they'd send out a radio signal. Pretty much the same number of letter groups every time. Now, the RAF couldn't quite reach the place with what they had in 1941, so the British knew nothing was happening there."

Ishizake said, "OK. so this base sends out a signal right at the new radio day. And?"

Kaffee said, "And nothing had happened. So they eventually guessed that the message said, 'Good morning, I have nothing to report, Sieg Heil to that paper-hanging SOB in Berlin, out."

Sotomayor frowned. "Not getting it."

"The punchline is that in order to break the day's settings for Enigma, they needed some idea of what was being sent--they called it a crib. They'd use this to set up the codebreaking machines--they'd plug letters together in specific patterns and see if they got something that looked like German when they ran it. If they didn't have any idea what was being sent, they were out of luck. Well, here was this little island off Greece saying the same damn thing every day at midnight. The codebreakers went so far as to ask the Royal Air Force and Navy to please leave that little island alone, so that they'd keep saying the same thing at midnight. The night shift at Bletchley Park would set up the codebreaking machines to find 'I have nothing to report,' and once they broke that key, they read traffic that was being sent to the island--things like weather reports. Then they'd look for messages that looked kind of like those weather reports on the Luftwaffe circuits, and plug in what they got from breaking those messages sent to that little island where nothing happened. It's like doing litigation--if you don't know what you're looking for, you're never going to find it, but once you have one fact that you can tie to the cause of action, you will start finding related things, and next thing you know, the opposing counsel is making noises about a settlement."

Mantell nodded. "And you'd think someone dropping thousand-pounders inside the fence would generate a lot more radio traffic--"

He stopped.

Ishizake asked, "Chief?"

Kaffee said, "Hold on, I think he's onto something."

Mantell started digging through overhead imagery of the garrison, and arranging the pictures on the conference room table.

Sotomayor asked, "What is it, Chief?"

"Let's lay these out so we have a view of the garrison."

Working together, the four men quickly had a photomap of the garrison.

Mantell looked at the imagery, then said, "I don't see a transmitter site."

Kaffee asked, "What does it look like?"

"It'd look like a radio or television station antenna."

Kaffee scratched his jaw and said, "OK, I don't see one, either."

Sotomayor shook his head. "No radio antennas, but what's so important about that?"

Ishizake said, "If it's not getting sent by radio, how is the NSA hearing it? It'd be nice if they'd bothered to tell us that they're tapping wires, given that we're risking our people trying to do that."

* * *

Ishizake had them wait outside the office of the task force commander, Major General Wayne Downing.

After a few minutes, Ishizake stuck his head out of Downing's office and waved them in.

They summarized their findings.

Downing sat back in his chair with a sour expression for a long moment, then said, "I told the NSA rep to quit hiding stuff from us. We're trying to get a grip on the situation, and we need reliable intelligence. So now I need to send that message somewhat more forcefully."

Downing stared at Mantell.

"Preferably via the person in this room who is most likely to drink beer straight from the bottle."

Mantell glanced around the room. Everyone was staring at him.

"Ah, I see, sir. So, what are the parameters for this assignment?"

Downing smiled. "Try not to do anything permanently crippling."

"Hoo-ah, sir. By your leave, sir."

"Granted."

* * *

Mantell was back about half an hour later.

Downing smiled. "What have you got, Chief?"

"Well, sir, after explaining to ol' Charlie that we were all getting heartily tired of his crap . . . did you know that one of the Mexican Army's main communications cables from Baja goes through Yuma and Tucson, sir?"

Everyone's jaw dropped open.

"It started off as a series of telegraph stations in early 1851, running from Ensenada to Tucson, then from Tucson to Pitic--now Hermosillo. When we bought Arizona south of the Gila River in 1854, the telegraph company continued to provide service, and they upgraded their infrastructure. The last big round of improvement was finished in 1981, just in time for the Frontistas to firebomb the offices of the company. The technicians who serviced the gear were either all US citizens or permanently resident in the US, and the NSA decided to quietly buy them out and have them keep the gear running--just in case."

"Nice of them to tell us."

"Well, apparently, everyone who knew about the actual route made it into the US during the fall of Mexico. So nobody knew a damn thing, they all think it cuts across the Colorado River below Morales Dam. Including the Russians."

Downing rolled his eyes. "Wonderful."

"Bottom line is that the NSA swears on a stack of Bibles that the comms are different enough that they're not faked. They do some sort of comparison, and it comes back no match."

Downing looked at Mantell carefully. "You're not buying it."

"No, sir, I'm not."

"Any basis for not buying it?"

"Like I said, a few thousand pounders going off inside the base perimeter should've prompted SOME sort of change, sir."

Downing nodded. "That's a decent hypothesis. You got any ideas for testing it?"

"I want to run it past a fellow operator at Altus, sir. If the NSA saying that they're comparing traffic, I have reason to believe it's mathematical, and CW3 Henrix is the best mathematician I know."

Downing looked around the room. "I'd like to go one-on-one with Chief Mantell, please, gentlemen."

Ishizake, Sotomayor, and Kaffee left.

Downing was quiet for a moment. Finally, he asked, "You trust her?"

"Sir, I've known Sophie since junior high school."

Downing was quiet for a long time. Mantell waited.

Finally, Downing chuckled. "You're one patient SOB, you know that? All right. You remember that little contretemps in Los Angeles Christmas Eve, right? Ended up with the upper floors of a building demolished, a bunch of folks from Nakatomi Corporation dead, and roughly $640 million in bearer bonds missing?"

"Yes, sir. I have reason to believe CW3 Henrix was involved. I intend to have a chilly but polite chat with her about it, because the deception and cover plan is entirely too close to how I'd do it for my taste. I have enough problems in life without the FBI showing up on my doorstep asking annoying questions, sir."

"They won't; they were in on it. That said . . . I didn't like the CONOPS because it was reckless. It worked, but we were playing awfully close to the edge."

"Sir, if you ever need to play right up to the edge, especially when you don't know where the edge is, I'd say your best course of action is to call her."

Downing nodded. "Coming from you, that is high praise indeed. All right, you read in CW3 Henrix on this specific piece. My authority."

* * *

04 June 1989
Air Terminal
Williams AFB, AZ

CW3 Sophie Henrix stepped through the terminal and smiled at Josh. "Good to see you again."

"Likewise, ma'am." he said.

She felt a twinge of uncertainty. His own smile didn't seem to reach his eyes--and his courtesy was distinctly frosty.

"I've got a Humvee outside, ma'am."

She followed him to the Humvee. He tossed her bags into the back, then got in the driver's seat and fired up the engine.

As he pulled away from the terminal, he said, "Ma'am, the next time you get an urge to use my techniques on a cover and deception plan for something massively illegal, please do me the courtesy of warning me that Freddie the Feddie might show up."

"Josh, I'm not at liberty to discuss--"

"Stow it. I'm working something at least ten times as sensitive--I've been locked out of combat ops for the duration."

"You sound pissed."

"I am pissed. Extremely so, I might add. Why'd you nuke the building, anyway?"

"Why'd I nuke what building?"

"Nakatomi Tower. I told you I recognized the cover and deception plan."

Sophie sighed. "Okay. You didn't hear this from me. It was cover for the rest of the team--we brought in some guys from Volksfrei, an outfit the KGB tried to liquidate right after the Greens took over. If you steal $600 from the bank, you might be able to walk away without any trouble. When you steal $640 million, they will find you, unless they believe you're already dead. And some of the people at Nakatomi were the hitters who'd whacked most of Volksfrei. The whole place was the center of KGB operations west of the Rockies."

"Sophie, I've been accused of being . . . expedient. But this takes the prize!"

"It does. But that's the fun part. The Volksfrei guys walked with their payment, I walked with a bunch of KGB secrets, and the KGB thinks this was just about the damn money and getting ripped off by some guys who accidentally blew themselves up, and they never realized we staged the whole thing."

"And what makes you so sure they're going to behave themselves?"

"Because we know they're alive, remember?"

Mantell considered this.

"So, after paying some terrorists--"

"Baader-Meinhof and Red Army Faction are terrorists. These guys are just bank robbers. And they just pulled down the score that's going to let them live high on the hog for the rest of their lives."

* * *

Sophie looked at the data, then asked, "Got the raw intercept tapes?"

Josh led her into the vault and showed her the rack. She pulled tapes for a week's worth of traffic, then went back to the desk she borrowed, pulled a Nagra IV out of her gear bag, and threaded the first tape in.

* * *

After two hours and another trip to the vault for more tapes, Sophie banged on the door to Mantell's office.

She had a triumphant smirk. "Ivan thought he was smarter than the NSA, and he was. But he ain't smarter than me!"

* * *

Downing said, "Chief Henrix, I understand that you're a math genius. I'm not. Please keep that in mind."

"Yes, sir.

Sophie went to the whiteboard, grabbed a red and a blue marker, and wrote out the first 20 positive integers.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20.

Downing noticed the pattern. "You wrote the prime numbers in red."

"Yes, sir. Aside from two, all primes are odd numbers, as any even number is divisble by two. Looking over the data, I sensed some kind of repetition, but I couldn't quite lock onto it. So, I made a key assumption: that the NSA's traffic analysis algorithms divide the calendar into distinct 24 hour days, running midnight to midnight. It's a safe guess; the basic concept of traffic analysis was originally developed by radiomen, and they use that exact concept to define a 'radio day,' or RADAY."

Downing nodded. "All right, so we have prime numbers, and we have an algorithm that goes day by day. How do these go together?"

"Time, sir. There's 60 seconds in one minute, 3,600 seconds in an hour, and 86,400 seconds in one day. Those are even numbers. If you're basing your decoy traffic on straight RADAY cycles, it will eventually get spotted when it repeats at midnight. If, however, you use a prime number that's in that range, it's never going to generate an identical match on the base algorithm."

Downing looked at the white board for a moment, then said, "So, it's off of a precise cycle, and there's no common factors with anything else. But why use a relatively short cycle? Why not load thirty-plus days of decoy traffic?"

"The cycle is short enough that it can be looped and played back in a radio room with minimum equipment. Thirty days of traffic is 2,592,000 seconds of traffic, or 720 standard cassette tapes. Using computer data 9-track tapes and some hardware tricks, you can fit a bit over 3 days of teletype traffic onto one tape in a continuous loop, sir. Doesn't need to be attended to at all."

Downing nodded. "So, what did you find, exactly?"

"The cycle is 73 hours and seven seconds, sir--262,807 seconds."

"And 262,807 is a prime number."

"Yes, sir."

Downing nodded. "Thank you, Chief."

"By your leave, sir."

"Granted. Please ask Colonel Ishizake to bring his team in."

* * *

"Gentlemen, they're running phony traffic to try to convince us they're still there, and they're doing it in a way that was very clever, designed to keep us hoodwinked, and designed to run for an extended period with no human intervention. The evidence at hand indicates that the division has left Baja, and given the strategic situation with BORDER FURY and with air operations over northern Sonora, they aren't coming back--ever."

Downing then looked at Ishizake, Sotomayor, and Mantell. "So, now what?"

Ishizake and Sotomayor were silent.

Mantell said, "Execute Phase I immediately. Neutralize mass communications, let Univision slide in their own programming into Northern Baja, and start blowing up the regime's security infrastructure. It's why we're here, sir."

Downing aimed a knife hand at Mantell. "Pretty bold for a CW2."

Mantell said, "Either we party with the big dogs, or we stay on the porch. And I want to party, sir."

Downing said, "You've got that right. Very well. The execute order will be going out shortly; operations to commence on June 8th. Make it happen, people."

[Matt Wiser]

And bombs start falling on the Mexican Security Forces and their DGI watchdogs, locals in Baja start taking out their anger on said security forces, and so on... A bunch of gas will be thrown in Baja, followed by the match.

[Johnnie Lyle]

Party on.

[Matryoshka]

Sophie sighed. "Okay. You didn't hear this from me. It was cover for the rest of the team--we brought in some guys from Volksfrei, an outfit the KGB tried to liquidate right after the Greens took over. If you steal $600 from the bank, you might be able to walk away without any trouble. When you steal $640 million, they will find you, unless they believe you're already dead. And some of the people at Nakatomi were the hitters who'd whacked most of Volksfrei. The whole place was the center of KGB operations west of the Rockies."

OOC: Sophie obviously doesn’t realise exactly how lucky she got there — or how much Ivan helped her out on Day One. One can only presume that the McClane family were all in New York on Day One and had ringside seats when that SS-N-16(?) initiated, because otherwise, the Nakatomi operation could’ve gone completely sideways, courtesy of a NY cop who was honestly trying to do the right thing but didn’t know all the details. Even if the nuke didn’t get them, odds are that the war-situation meant that Holly never got that job in L.A. and/or that John couldn’t get a flight out there to try to salvage his marriage.

(For that matter, one has to wonder if, in either this spin on the universe or even in the ‘canon’ RD+20 timeline, Holly McClane knew exactly who she was working for and what they were up to, and how she felt about all that. I know that in the original book, she was personally hip-deep in Nakatomi’s dirty-tricks in Latin America, and even in the movie, the fact that the corporation had more than half a billion dollars in what was functionally cash-money in their vault on that fateful Christmas suggests they were into some pretty shady stuff....)

[jemhouston]

OOC: Sophie obviously doesn’t realise exactly how lucky she got there — or how much Ivan helped her out on Day One. One can only presume that the McClane family were all in New York on Day One and had ringside seats when that SS-N-16(?) initiated, because otherwise, the Nakatomi operation could’ve gone completely sideways, courtesy of a NY cop who was honestly trying to do the right thing but didn’t know all the details. Even if the nuke didn’t get them, odds are that the war-situation meant that Holly never got that job in L.A. and/or that John couldn’t get a flight out there to try to salvage his marriage.

(For that matter, one has to wonder if, in either this spin on the universe or even in the ‘canon’ RD+20 timeline, Holly McClane knew exactly who she was working for and what they were up to, and how she felt about all that. I know that in the original book, she was personally hip-deep in Nakatomi’s dirty-tricks in Latin America, and even in the movie, the fact that the corporation had more than half a billion dollars in what was functionally cash-money in their vault on that fateful Christmas suggests they were into some pretty shady stuff....)

I'll admit, I never pondered by Nakatomi had some much stashed away.

[Wolfman]

Let’s get this party started!

[Kendog52361]

OOC: Sophie obviously doesn’t realise exactly how lucky she got there — or how much Ivan helped her out on Day One. One can only presume that the McClane family were all in New York on Day One and had ringside seats when that SS-N-16(?) initiated, because otherwise, the Nakatomi operation could’ve gone completely sideways, courtesy of a NY cop who was honestly trying to do the right thing but didn’t know all the details. Even if the nuke didn’t get them, odds are that the war-situation meant that Holly never got that job in L.A. and/or that John couldn’t get a flight out there to try to salvage his marriage.

(For that matter, one has to wonder if, in either this spin on the universe or even in the ‘canon’ RD+20 timeline, Holly McClane knew exactly who she was working for and what they were up to, and how she felt about all that. I know that in the original book, she was personally hip-deep in Nakatomi’s dirty-tricks in Latin America, and even in the movie, the fact that the corporation had more than half a billion dollars in what was functionally cash-money in their vault on that fateful Christmas suggests they were into some pretty shady stuff....)

OOC: Last night, as I was going to bed, I thought up a "background" for how both John McClane and Holly McClane/Gennaro could both exist, but not interfere in the Op. This might work better in The Vaults of Heaven AU, since I seem to recall that the "canon timeline" had the events taking place in Switzerland, with Ramdyne being part of job, where they tried to leave Sophie holding the bag/blame, but since she came in, with tons of intel, she cleared herself.

"In Canon": Basically, around May or June, 1985, after the school year ended in New York, Holly McClane separated from her husband, and moved to the West Coast for a new job, at Nakatomi Plaza. It's currently unknown whether she knew who she was working for, at that point. Her estranged husband, NYPD Officer/Detective, John McClane was intending to come out for Christmas, to see his kids, and try to fix things with her, but WW3 intervened.

He wasn't hurt during the nuclear blast(s) in New York, but he was stuck working, through Christmas, for at least 2 years, due to the NYPD getting a triple body blow. The first body blow was all of the casualties from the nuke blast, the second was all of those young people who would join the NYPD were instead joining the Military, and finally all of the NYPD Members who were part of the National Guard or Reserve were called into Active Duty, and had to leave the NYPD to fight in the War.

He finally got leave time from the NYPD, ironically during that same Christmas that the events went down, but due to fuel rationing, he was unable to fly, let alone drive, all the way to the West Coast, for the Holidays. As a result, he was stuck watching it on TV, the same as everybody else. I don't know whether Holly McClane survived or was killed, but assuming she did die, then the kids were flown out East, to live with their Dad.

Years later, John McClane found evidence that there was more to the incident that killed his estranged wife, and that the people responsible were still alive. As a result he started looking for them, to bring them to justice...

[Poohbah]

OOC: Sophie obviously doesn’t realise exactly how lucky she got there — or how much Ivan helped her out on Day One. One can only presume that the McClane family were all in New York on Day One and had ringside seats when that SS-N-16(?) initiated, because otherwise, the Nakatomi operation could’ve gone completely sideways, courtesy of a NY cop who was honestly trying to do the right thing but didn’t know all the details. Even if the nuke didn’t get them, odds are that the war-situation meant that Holly never got that job in L.A. and/or that John couldn’t get a flight out there to try to salvage his marriage.

(For that matter, one has to wonder if, in either this spin on the universe or even in the ‘canon’ RD+20 timeline, Holly McClane knew exactly who she was working for and what they were up to, and how she felt about all that. I know that in the original book, she was personally hip-deep in Nakatomi’s dirty-tricks in Latin America, and even in the movie, the fact that the corporation had more than half a billion dollars in what was functionally cash-money in their vault on that fateful Christmas suggests they were into some pretty shady stuff....)

OOC: Last night, as I was going to bed, I thought up a "background" for how both John McClane and Holly McClane/Gennaro could both exist, but not interfere in the Op. This might work better in The Vaults of Heaven AU, since I seem to recall that the "canon timeline" had the events taking place in Switzerland, with Ramdyne being part of job, where they tried to leave Sophie holding the bag/blame, but since she came in, with tons of intel, she cleared herself.

"In Canon": Basically, around May or June, 1985, after the school year ended in New York, Holly McClane separated from her husband, and moved to the West Coast for a new job, at Nakatomi Plaza. It's currently unknown whether she knew who she was working for, at that point. Her estranged husband, NYPD Officer/Detective, John McClane was intending to come out for Christmas, to see his kids, and try to fix things with her, but WW3 intervened.

He wasn't hurt during the nuclear blast(s) in New York, but he was stuck working, through Christmas, for at least 2 years, due to the NYPD getting a triple body blow. The first body blow was all of the casualties from the nuke blast, the second was all of those young people who would join the NYPD were instead joining the Military, and finally all of the NYPD Members who were part of the National Guard or Reserve were called into Active Duty, and had to leave the NYPD to fight in the War.

He finally got leave time from the NYPD, ironically during that same Christmas that the events went down, but due to fuel rationing, he was unable to fly, let alone drive, all the way to the West Coast, for the Holidays. As a result, he was stuck watching it on TV, the same as everybody else. I don't know whether Holly McClane survived or was killed, but assuming she did die, then the kids were flown out East, to live with their Dad.

Years later, John McClane found evidence that there was more to the incident that killed his estranged wife, and that the people responsible were still alive. As a result he started looking for them, to bring them to justice...

...and then he gets a package in the mail: his estranged wife's personnel file.

In Cyrillic.