The Nuclear Option Ch. 01

In the second Escalade as we pulled out onto Riverside Drive were FBI Supervisory Agent Melina Troy Allgood in the shotgun seat, FBI Special Agent Lindy Linares, Chief Moynahan, Captain Teresa Croyle, and Detective Joanne Warner. The third vehicle contained Sheriff Griswold, Chief of Staff (Deputy Sheriff) Charles T. Oswald, SBI Lieutenant Gordon Grigsby of the SBI-BFE, and SBI Agent Matty Graves, formerly of the SBI-NTF, and the fourth vehicle had other FBI and Homeland Security agents that worked in this area.

The Escalades had blue lights embedded in the front and back windows and the front grille, and those lights were flashing brightly as we sped along at a high rate of speed down the University-Midtown Highway.

"What's going on?" I whispered to my wife. Laura said nothing, but raised her eyebrows in a 'hell if I know' look. I looked back at Martin and Julius, who looked pensive. They just shook their heads in reply to the unspoken question in my face; either they did not know either, or they couldn't say anything.

"None of us know exactly what's going on." said Jack Muscone from the shotgun seat. "We got an invitation we could not refuse, and were told to round up everyone in this area with a Top Secret clearance. Detective Davis is at the Police Academy, so I told Chief Moynahan not to call him, but the rest of you were 'invited' to the meeting. Whatever it is, it's big, really big. The military is involved."

Despite our high rate of speed driving through Coltrane County, the land of speed-traps, we were not stopped nor hindered in any way. Before too long we were at the exit for Valley Villages. We took it, and I realized where we were going: the secret facility under the Valley Villages Hotel. This was definitely big, I thought to myself with increasing trepidation.

Disembarking from the Escalades, we went into the Hotel lobby. There were a number of Army and Air Force Officers milling about, and some civilians that were obviously (to me) Security. We were directed to a table, where our I.D.s were checked. I was handed a red lanyard and Laura a blue one.

"Please secure your I.D.s in the clear plastic pouches attached to the lanyards, and make sure they're visible at all times." the female Air Force Captain said. I did so for my FBI Consultant badge, and Laura did so for her CIA (Ret.) I.D. Then we were directed to what looked like the old coat room, where we were told we had to leave our cellphones and any other communication and recording devices. Our cellphones and Laura's purse were bagged and sealed with a tag, and we were given a receipt tag. Surprisingly, I was told to keep my badge and my gun.

"Those zip-lock bags can only be sealed once." said Laura. "The first time they seal, they have that orange color. Once opened again, if it's re-sealed it won't be orange but green. So we'll know if they're tampered with."

"Better living through chemistry." I said. "Anyway, whatever all this is... it's huge. Everyone is really tense. And we've gotta display IDs at all times?"

"That's actually pretty standard." Laura said. "They do it at The Masters golf tournament too, as you'll find out in April. But yes, there is a strangeness to... all of this. And why are we here, Valley Villages, of all places?"

"You remember that secret facility the Superior Bloodlines boys built below this Hotel?" I asked. "It's where Jerome Davis and I came to do surveillance on Marcie Harper's drug gang... and I'm betting we're going to go down there to find out what's going on. Verrry secure location." Laura nodded as she remembered my stories.

Sure enough, we were directed towards the elevators. I saw Police Chief Pascal Floyd and Detective Josh Segers from Hammondsville in the State to our west ahead of us. (Author's note: See 'Case of the Lost Drone', Ch. 02, for more on Floyd and Segers.) I did not know most of the people I saw in suits and ties or dresses; those would be Federal Agents, I surmised. There were also a good number of uniformed military personnel here, every one of them Commissioned Officers.

As we stood in line, FBI Special Agent Ted Crenshaw came up to me. "Hello Commander Troy, Dr. Fredricson." he said. "Have you met my new colleague in Southport, Tim Jenkins?"

"No, but I've heard of you." I said, shaking Jenkins's hand. "My colleague, Commander Cindy Ross, said you were very helpful to her."

"Oh, are you the one that helped her record those videotapes to DVDs?" exclaimed Teresa Croyle, who was right behind me and Laura. She extended her hand.

"Oh yes, I was." said Jenkins, shaking her hand. "And you are?"

"I'm Teresa Croyle." said Teresa Croyle. "I was the girl running the race in that tape."

"Ohhhhh..." said Jenkins, understanding. "That was your hometown we were in, then." They began fluttering like the parakeets of the Veasley Community Center, with Teresa telling Tim of how Cindy had made the video that was her Christmas gift to Teresa.

"Where is Commander Ross, by the way?" Jenkins asked at one point. "I'd like to say hello to her."

"She's back home, minding the store." Teresa said. "Any idea what this is about?"

"No," said Jenkins. "But it's big. Ted Crenshaw and I were told to drop everything and come up here. They even sent Escalades for us. Southport PD's Eugene Graham is here, too."

We finally made it to the elevator and boarded. Everyone turned around to face the doors from which they'd entered, except me. I mischievously stood facing all of them, which disquieted many of them; they would not look at me when I looked at them. I think Laura, being a psychiatrist, knew what I was up to... and her look at me was one of 'disapproval', the same look she often gave Carole when our daughter was about to be in trouble.

We descended, which surprised most of them, and then to their greater surprise, the elevator doors behind them opened. "I guess you were facing the right direction, after all." Laura said as everyone got out.

We were guided down the dimly lit passage to a room that was the large theater room which could hold 200 people, and had a stage at front. I noticed that heavy black curtains had been put up so that people could not see what was beyond, nor get any real sense of the facility's layout.

As we entered the auditorium room, I saw military personnel on the stage, including Laura's friend Major Mark Martin of the 3457th Signal Intelligence Battalion. (Author's note: 'Going Rogue'.) He was talking with several other military Officers that I did not know.

Jack Muscone had us go to seats near the front. As we were filing in, I heard the voice of an older man say "Laura? Dr. Fredricson, is that you?" An Army four-star general was approaching us from near the right-side steps to the stage.

"Hello, General McFarland." Laura said, rather formally and severely. I noticed she shook the General's hand with 'studied' politeness.

"Ah, come on, you can call me Alex." said the General in a friendly tone. "It has been a long time. How are you?"

"General," Laura said formally in direct reply, "may I present my husband, Police Commander Donald Troy?"

"Ohhhh, yes." said the General, shaking my hand with a firm grip as he looked up at me. "The Iron Crowbar... yes, I've heard of you, of course. I'm glad you could come today. This is a real problem we have, and we may need your tremendous skills to help. If you'll excuse me, I need to get started. Laura, I hope I'll get the chance to chat with you some more." Laura just nodded and the General went back toward the stage.

"Dr. Fredricson?" said another man, an Army two-star General, whose hair was blond-'ish', and he looked much younger than General McFarland. I instantly noticed something strange about him: he was a two-star general, but he did not have any Airborne or Air Assault wings, much less the Ranger tab. It's hard for a dirty nasty Leg to become a General Officer, I thought to myself. But this guy did it.

"I'm Major General Carl Just." he said to Laura. "I met you and your husband, your first husband, at a NATO intelligence briefing some years ago."

"I remember you. Hello." Laura said politely, then said "General, this is my husband, Police Commander Don Troy. Don, General Just was a Chemical Corps radiochemist and part of the nuclear programs. General, my husband was a chemist before getting into Police work."

"You were in the Chemical Corps, too?" asked Just.

"No, sir, I was in the Military Police Corps------"

Just then the female Air Force Captain came to the podium. "If you will take your seats, we'll get started." MG Just excused himself and hurried to the stage as Laura and I sat down, her to my right. Jack Muscone was to my left side and Chief Moynahan to his left. Sheriff Griswold was sitting with some others behind us.

"Thank you all for coming." said General McFarland as he came up to the podium. "First, I must ask everyone to reaffirm that you have a Top Secret clearance. If anyone does not, no harm no foul. But please say so, so that we can escort you out and back upstairs." No one moved in the silent room. I was wondering how what I just saw and heard could take place... but I tend to be 'rational' about such things...

"Okay, good." said General McFarland. "This briefing is classified at the very highest levels, and once you hear what I tell you, you'll understand when I say not one word of this can get out to the Public. My name is General Alexander McFarland, and I'm currently assigned to the National Security Agency in Washington. My second-in-command for this mission is Major General Carl Just. General Just, will you give your briefing on the background information?"

"Yes, General." MG Just said. He came to the podium, and a slide presentation began on the two screens, one to either side of him. "The Office of Secure Transportation, or OST, is run by the U.S. Department of Energy's National Nuclear Security Administration. The OST is charged with secretly and safely transporting nuclear weapons, components, and materials between locations within the United States. The OST is comprised of Federal Agents, and they emphasize hiring military veterans, especially those with special forces experience."

"The OST conducts its shipments in a low-profile, no-notice manner, essentially hiding in plain sight." continued Just. "The Transportation and Emergency Control Center, or TECC, in Albuquerque, New Mexico maintains constant contact with the vehicles, whether trucks or trains, and also tracks them via several methods, all highly classified. General?"

"Thank you, Carl." said General McFarland. "As many of you in this area know, there was once a line of silos in the State just to our west, which housed nuclear missiles. Those sites were decommissioned and sold off. However, while they and other sites were active, the Redbird Arsenal, on the western side of the State to our west, stored nuclear weapons of all sorts, from artillery shells to components for bombs and missiles. Some weapons continue to be stored there."

A map was displayed, showing the State to our west, with a red line in the northeast coming down from the road I would take to go to Apple Grove, turning west (where turning east would come into my Town & County), and going through Hammondsville and further westward towards Redbird Arsenal.

"The OST was transporting one nuclear warhead to Redbird Arsenal," said General McFarland, "in a box truck with an escort car behind it. At 8:00am this morning, the convoy passed through Hammondsville. About ten miles west of Hammondsville, the TECC lost contact with the follow car. And not just radio contact; all contact was lost, including the tracking methods we use. It literally disappeared off our screens."

"The delivery truck was contacted, and they said they did not see the follow car behind them." said the General. "The TECC then lost contact with the truck, as well. This generated a response action, including contacting local LEOs to search for and find the vehicles. As of now, we're still looking for the vehicles."

"This generated an OPREP-3 report, coded 'PINNACLE - EMPTY QUIVER'." continued General McFarland. "Similar to a 'BROKEN ARROW' event, an 'EMPTY QUIVER' event is generated when there is a seizure, theft, or loss of a nuclear weapon."

"Ladies and gentlemen," said General McFarland gravely, "a nuclear weapon is missing, and is believed to have been stolen... and may now be in the hands of criminals."

Part 3 - The War At Home

KXTC Managing Editor Bettina Wurtzburg had just returned from lunch with Publisher Burt West when there was a knock on her door. It was KXTC political reporter Amber Harris.

"Hi, Amber." said Bettina as she had the athletic blonde come in and sit down. "Anything new?'

"A couple of things." said Amber. "First, we got a tip that all the Police leadership as well as the Sheriff got into Federal Government vehicles and left the County. My source in the Federal Building said that the secret FBI and Homeland Security rooms there are completely empty, as well."

"Any idea what it's about?" Bettina asked.

"Not yet." Amber said. "I've called the Public Relations Departments at the Federal Building and the TCPD. The Feds said they're not aware of anything going on. The TCPD hasn't called me back, and knowing them they probably won't."

"I am getting sick and tired of the TCPD's attitude." Bettina whined. "It's bad enough what Commander Troy does. But it's Commander Ross's and Captain Thompson's jobs to talk to us, and they blow us off, too."

*KNOCK!* *KNOCK!* *KNOCK!*

When Bettina said "Come in!", the door opened to reveal Keith Madden, KXTC's newest 'cub' reporter.

"Ms. Wurtzburg," said Madden, "I'm getting tips that LEOs at the Federal, State, and local levels from this State and the State to our west have been brought to a meeting south of here. It could be at Valley Villages."

Amber and Bettina looked at each other. Bettina said "That is big. Follow up on that, Keith. Call the FBI and the Army------"

*BRING!* *BRING!* *BRING!* *BRING!*

Bettina answered her phone, then said "Let me put you on speaker, Tim." She said "It's Tim Sioban of KSB in the City.", then put him on speaker and said "I've got Amber Harris and Keith Madden with me. What's going on?"

"Hi guys." said Tim Sioban. "We're getting reports of something really big going on. The Federal Building here in the City went on full lockdown, and is now on heightened security alert. The FBI and Homeland Security offices are still locked down, and sources are telling me they're like a disturbed hornet's nest in there. In addition, the airports and railroads have been given 'security alerts'.

"We're starting to hear about a lot of LEOs being called to a meeting." Bettina said.

Sioban replied: "We've also gotten word of an 'all hands on deck' meeting with Federal, State, and local authorities in two States, and the military is involved in some way. Have you heard where the meeting is?"

"Possibly at Valley Villages, just south of us." said Bettina. "We'll check it out on our end and let you know what we find."

"Great." said Sioban. "We'll keep checking from this end and see what we come up with." He disconnected the call.

"Okay, guys," Bettina said, "let's go find out what the Government is trying to hide from the People." As they turned to go, Bettina said "Amber! What was that second thing you were going to tell me?"

Amber turned back and said "I made the O.R.A. (Official Records Act) request to DFACS, regarding Cindy Ross's fostering and now adopting that baby girl. They denied the request, citing privacy laws concerning adoptions. And that'll be a tough nut for us to crack."

"That's okay." Bettina said, trying not to smile.

"Bettina", Amber said, "won't the O.R.A. request tip off DFACS and Ross that we're looking into her?"

Bettina lost the battle, and smiled a wicked smile. "I'm counting on it." she said. "The O.R.A. request is to scare and intimidate Ross, and ultimately Troy. It's time Troy is taught an unforgettable lesson about the power of the Press. And those on his side, like Ross, get to learn the hard way about the costs of being on his side. We're going nuclear on them, Amber."

Amber smiled brightly. "I love it. I'll talk to you about it again soon."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Commander Cindy Ross was working at her desk in her office when her personal iPhone rang. She answered it: "Hello, Priya. What's up?"

"Hi Cindy." Priya said. "I'm sorry to call you on your personal phone, but something big's going on."

"You're right, you should not be calling me on my personal phone for anything but personal business." Cindy replied. "Everything said on this phone is off the record, yes?"

"Deep background?" Priya tried.

"Off the record until I hear what you want." Cindy said.

"Okay." said Priya. "I called Captain Thompson about the word we've gotten that all the top TCPD leadership was transported to some conference with a lot of FBI and even military persons involved. He said that the TCPD doesn't comment on the locations or movements of the TCPD's top leadership, and I understand that. He then said he had no idea what was going on, so he couldn't tell me anything even if he wanted to. So... can you confirm or deny this big meeting is taking place?"

Cindy said "This is off the record: everyone with a Top Secret clearance was asked by the FBI to attend a meeting. I was asked to stay here and mind the store. I don't know anything more than that. On deep background, you can say the TCPD is not denying a meeting is taking place, but I genuinely don't know what it's about."

"Okay, thanks!" said Priya. "By the way... off the record but some fair exchange for what you've told me: KXTC filled an O.R.A. request with DFACS for all of their information concerning your fostering Betsy and the adoption process that's going on------"

"What?!" Cindy just about exploded.

"Hold on." said Priya. "DFACS refused the O.R.A. request, as adoption information is protected by law. But I just wanted you to know that Bettina is picking up where Katherine Woodburn left off."

"Thank you for telling me." Cindy said. After Priya disconnected, Cindy sat in her chair. When her assistant Lauren Wilcox came in with some paperwork, Cindy was staring out the window.

"Is everything all right, ma'am?" Lauren asked, concerned.

"Uhh... yeah, yeah." Cindy said. "You can leave that on the desk. Close the door behind you on the way out, and hold all my calls, unless it's Commander Troy, the Chief, or the Sheriff..."

Part 4 - Puzzle Pieces

3:30pm, Thursday, March 7th. The conference room under the Valley Villages Hotel had all but exploded with the 'EMPTY QUIVER' news. General McFarland had called MG Just back to the podium to answer questions and give instructions while he, McFarland, went to a side room that was a conference room and office.

"Our command post will be here, at this facility under the hotel." said Just. "Sheriff Griswold and Police Chief Moynahan of the Town & County Police are generously allowing us the use of one of their Precinct buildings as a forward operations post. I'll be up there, and General McFarland will be either here or there, depending on the situation."

"Military and Federal Agents will be given assignments as we learn more information." said Just. "State and local LEOs here will be asked to be on standby to assist the Federals on tasks in your jurisdictions as they arise. Right now, information is scarce, so we absolutely do not want anything publicly disclosed, nor any leaks to the Press."

As he talked I leaned over and whispered to Jack Muscone: "Now we know what Shimono 2.0, Paco, and Barsbane were up to." Jack's beady black eyes widened as his neck made like an owl's to turn and look at me.