‘Salty!’ Taking the older man’s hand in his own large paw, Hank Rosenberg gave it a vigorous shake.
Salty smiled back at him. ‘Good to seeya, Hank. Heard you left the CIA to join the NSA?’
Grinning, Rosenberg drawled in his southern American accent, ‘Your sources are correct. Been a long time between drinks, buddy.’
His hand freed again, Salty sobered. ‘So, what’s happened here?’
‘We should’ve taken your agency’s warnin’ more seriously, is what happened. Oh, we put on extra detail alright, but it clearly wasn’t enough.’
‘Hindsight’s a wonderful thing, Hank. At the time you couldn’t have foreseen the seriousness of the risk.’
‘Yeah, we get threats from all kinds of crackpots. Then there’s the trespassers and protestors who gather at the gate from time to time. None of it ever amounts to much. Mostly just radicals blowin’ off steam. So it was deemed highly unlikely there’d be an attempt to actually steal the drone, especially given the remoteness of this facility. And with all the crap going down in Afghanistan and China, every one of our available satellites was focused overseas.’ Blowing a frustrated breath, the American ran a hand down the front of his suit coat. ‘We didn’t even suspect anythin’ was wrong ’til the crew was an hour overdue returning from the launch site.’
Salty nodded his understanding. ‘And was the stolen prototype fitted with the weapon?’
Rosenberg replied with a pursing of lips and a curt dip of his head.
‘And the weapon’s operational?’
Another head dip.
‘Any idea who the thieves might be, and how they managed to get away with it?’
‘Between you and me, the operation was carried out right under our noses. That’s not somethin’ I’d be openly admittin’, mind.’ Rosenberg scowled. ‘Accordin’ to reports from Morris and other witnesses on the ground, the perps appeared to be members of an Australian Commando unit. They stole the Valkyrie mid-flight, ’n flew the damn thing out of here. Commandeered the Oshkosh-mounted control room as well. The drone was last seen headin’ west followed by the Oshkosh, which was found abandoned a couple of Ks from here. There was no sign of any other mode of transport at the site.’
At Rosenberg’s deepening frown, Salty prompted, ‘Something else?’
‘When they abandoned the Oshkosh they blew up the control room.’
‘Which means...?’
Squeezing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, Rosenberg muttered, ‘Means the thieves must be usin’ a portable remote control transmitter, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to fly the drone anywhere.’
‘Oh. I see.’
‘Yeah. And it must be some sophisticated piece of tech, ’cos the guidance and flight systems are normally relayed via one of our satellites.’
‘Does the drone have a transponder? Are you able to track its current flight path?’
‘We normally would, but we lost the signal.’ Rosenberg shook his head. ‘No transponder, we kept track of it via the uplink. This tells us that whatever satellite is bein’ used to control the drone ain’t one of ours.’
Salty stared thoughtfully at him. ‘Any suspicions about who might be ultimately behind the operation?’
‘Tensions are mounting in the Philippine Sea....’
‘China?’
‘At a recent anniversary parade they displayed their new GJ-11 stealth drone for the world to eyeball. It was an impressive display and confirmed China has the technology. We know they have over four hundred sats in orbit around the globe, and an uplink would be necessary in order to fly the drone across continents.’
‘So, what kind of range does the Valkyrie have?’
‘With a full tank, over five thousand kilometres.’
‘So it could make it all the way from here to China, or anywhere in between.’
‘Could might be,’ Rosenberg replied sourly. ‘Though according to Morris, it was only fuelled with enough to carry out the short test flight, about a hundred Ks or thereabouts. He assures me it would’ve ditched by now if it hadn’t been refuelled.’
‘Well, it wouldn’t be hard to set up a couple of drums of fuel out here.’ Salty rubbed his silver-grizzled chin. ‘And in addition to the sealed highway, there’d be a number of well-graded tracks where they could land the drone.’
‘Which’d make sense, given they hijacked the thing in mid-air. We’ve dispatched two teams. One to track the Commandos, the other to the location where we lost the signal. It’s near a small Aboriginal community west of here, which is probably also where the Valkyrie was connected to their control unit.’ With a sigh, Rosenberg turned to eye the five bodies beneath the cargo container. ‘We’re dealing with a ruthless enemy, that’s for sure ’n certain.’ Turning back to a grave-faced Salty, he muttered, ‘I sure do hope we manage to catch the murdering bastards.’
‘Well, NatSec’s involved, so you can be assured every resource will be deployed to make it happen.’
‘I suspect you’re right. Jack Pender informed me he’s alerted your air force and navy, who’re sendin’ everything they’ve got to patrol the Northern seaboard. In addition, Guam is dispatching two Bones ’n three Mud Hens to run blocker on the other side of the Malay Archipelago. We’ve also reallocated two of our satellites to search the skies.’
‘All the same, the chances of intercepting the drone in flight must be slim at best, given the unit’s size, speed, and stealth capability.’
‘I’m afraid I must agree with your assumption,’ Rosenberg said grimly. ‘Best case scenario, the thieves are usin’ the remote control to guide the drone.’ At Salty’s questioning frown he explained, ‘It’d mean if we intercepted them, we could take over control of the unit.’
‘Of course.’
‘Worse case scenario, the uplink is being controlled from an overseas location. Which’d mean our only option would be to intercept and destroy the drone before it’s entirely out of our reach.’
With a nod, Salty flipped open his phone. ‘What was the name of the last known location of the drone, Hank?’
‘The Aboriginal community of Namatjira.’
‘Okay.’ Salty turned on his heels. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better report in.’
‘Like I said, Jack Pender knows the deal alread—’
The roar of an engine cut Rosenberg short, and both men looked up as a sleek red aircraft swooped low overhead to do a wide circle of the launch site.
Turning to Rosenberg, Salty said, ‘Right, then. I’ll make the call and then join you over there,’ and he indicated the gathered group of ashen-faced techs and a grim-faced Morris.
In the air above a short time later, the Pilatus banked sharply and followed the range west.
From inside the cockpit Wolf called into the comms, ‘Did you get all that, Mei?’
‘So we’re looking for a refuelling site now instead of a truck?’
‘Correct. And according to the coordinates Jo’s given us, there’s an airstrip near Namatjira.’ He saw Mei raise a hand to point ahead of the plane’s nose.
‘Is that it, there?’
‘Good spottin.’ As he spoke, a hydraulic groan vibrated through the cockpit. It was followed by a clunk as the landing gear lowered and locked in place. As he throttled back the Pilatus, Wolf lowered the flaps and pointed the nose at the dirt runway. ‘Hermannsburg township is on the left, and the patch of white sand snaking around it is the Finke river. Namatjira is further south on the other side of the river bed.’ After swooping low over the full length of the runway, he pulled back on the joystick and banked the aircraft left. ‘Did you see them?’
‘Two drums of fuel and a pump?’
‘Exactly. After a quick aerial recon of the surrounding area, we’ll land and do an on-ground check.’ Without bothering to retract the landing gear, he put the plane into a low-level, wide arc around both settlements.
Moments later he lined up the plane with the runway and touched down. Stairs dropped from the fuselage as the cockpit canopy sprang open. Wolf climbed onto the left wing, and after assisting Mei to disconnect her flight suit, slid off the rear of the wing and waited for her to follow.
Striding to the fuel drums he thumped the top rim of each with the palm of his hand, and both jiggled easily. When Mei came to stand beside him, he muttered, ‘Empty,’ and turned his attention to the fuel pump. After cranking the handle, he checked the end of the hose and murmured, ‘That’s unusual.’
‘What is?’
‘Pump’s bone dry. You’d expect at least a dribble of fuel to be left in it.’ He grasped the end of the hose, sniffed it, and frowned. ‘Diesel?’ Dropping the hose, he glanced over a shoulder at the runway.
Mei followed his lead as he walked, head bent, peering at the ground. ‘Another aircraft definitely landed here,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘but I don’t see where it took off again.’
‘Correct.’ Wolf glanced back at the fuel drums. ‘Though they went to quite a bit of trouble to make us believe one did.’ He lifted his chin at the drums. ‘The Valkyrie’s turbofan engine runs on jet fuel. Those drums contained diesel at some stage, though maybe not recently. There are no spills, or fresh residue near the pump.’
Mei’s brow creased. ‘Didn’t I read somewhere how diesel could be used in a jet engine?’
Still staring at the drums, Wolf said distractedly, ‘Yeah, but it’s not recommended, especially for modern jet engines.’ He turned to meet her questioning gaze. ‘Diesel tends to gum things up, causing power instability and overheating. Aviation kerosene, “jet fuel”, burns a lot cleaner. If they were planning to fly the drone any distance, I doubt they would’ve risked using diesel.’ He pointed to the ground. ‘Besides, the tracks end here.’ With a sweep of his arm he traced an elongated rectangle embedded in the red dust. ‘See that? And here?’
When he dropped to his haunches, Mei moved closer and bent to rest her hands on her knees.
Pointing to footprints in the dirt, he said, ‘They were a bit sloppy about covering their tracks. I don’t need Spooky to tell me three or four guys loaded something onto a container here, and it’s easy to guess what the something was.’ He gave a wry grunt. ‘That’s why they’re only Commandos. They’re not careful enough about the finer details.’
‘So ... we’re back looking for a truck?’
‘A semi, side loader.’ Rising, Wolf followed the tyre tracks as they skirted the airstrip and turned onto the nearby bitumen road. Stopping on the road verge he stared in that direction. ‘They headed for Hermannsburg.’
‘So we should go into town and ask questions. Someone must’ve seen the truck.’
Before Wolf could answer, the rumble of a V8 engine had them both turning to squint at the approaching vehicle. The utility, decked out with oversized bull-bar, whip aerials, and a row of roof-mounted spotlights, skidded to a stop on the bitumen beside them.
The old man at the wheel pushed back the brim of his worn Akubra hat with a nicotine-stained finger, flicked the butt of a spent roll-your-own cigarette onto the ground, and leaned out the window. ‘I’m guessin’ you two was flyin’ that red thing what just buzzed our town?’
Wolf eyed him before drawling, ‘Yeah, that’d be us.’
The old dude merely grunted and began rolling another cigarette.
Stepping closer to the dust-covered ute, Wolf put a hand on the window sill. ‘Say, you wouldn’t have seen a container truck come through here this morning? Something out of the ordinary, like a side-loader maybe?’
‘Side-loaders ain’t out of the ordinary, not out ’ere anyway.’ The old man lit the cigarette, put his head back to take a long drag, and gave a hacking cough as he released the smoke. Squinting at the watching Mei, he wheezed, ‘Yeah, I know. Smokin’s a filthy habit.’
She shrugged at Wolf and then looked back at the old dude, who stopped coughing to mumble, ‘Had the usual food container truck come through this mornin’. That was a bit unusual.’
‘Yeah?’ Wolf asked. ‘Unusual how?’
Before taking another drag the old guy replied, ‘Truck comes through early mornin’, headin’ for the railway compound at the Alice. Drops off a full container, takes an empty one. It went back coupl’a hours ago.’
‘And why’s that unusual?’
‘The goods container normally comes through on a Friday, not mid-week.’
‘Okay. And what type of truck and container was it?’
After another coughing exhale, the old man rasped, ‘Can’t miss ’im. White Volvo with a big red container. Has “Good Things Happen” on the side of it.’
‘Right.’ Wolf gave the sill a friendly thump and stepped back. ‘Thanks for the info, mate.’ He was about to head to the airstrip when the old man spoke again.
‘Say, can I take a look-see at that plane of yours?’
With a quick check of the time, Wolf turned to peer up the road in the other direction. ‘I’d be happy to show her to you, mate, but you might wanna think about makin’ yourself scarce.’
‘And why would I wanna do that?’
‘We flew over some Marines in a US Humvee about twenty clicks back. I expect they’ll be here any minute, and probably best you’re gone when they arrive.’
Muttering, ‘Damn Yanks, takin’ over the joint,’ the old dude shoved the ute into gear and roared off.
As they strode back to the Pilatus, Wolf pulled out his phone and muttered, ‘I can think of another slogan for that container, and it ain’t “Good Things Happen”.’
At the Garden Island admin block, Mark gave a bored sigh and clicked on the next employee file. About to peer at yet another photograph, he jerked upright when the mobile vibrated in his pocket. Hurriedly digging it out, he put it to his ear and announced himself.
‘Drop what you’re doing, Mark. I need you to meet us at Pearce Airbase, ASAP.’
‘Sure.’ He was already on his feet. ‘On my way.’
At the other end of the call Modeen lowered her phone and eyed Bugs and Spooky. ‘Let’s saddle up. I’ve got a C17 primed to pick us up at Pearce in two hours.’
Bugs met her gaze. ‘Given this morning’s events, is it wise to leave HQ and the Garden Island drone unguarded?’
She thought for a moment before replying. ‘I doubt they have any further interest in the other drone now they have the Pine Gap prototype, which was obviously their intended target after their efforts to steal the design blueprints failed. And setting up the dive scooters in the boathouse was clearly a diversion, to make us think they were going after the Garden Island drone. They must’ve known that drone was never fitted with the weapon, and while it’s an advanced piece of kit, stealing that model wouldn’t give them any intel on the laser system.’ She blew an audible breath. ‘So here’s where we stand right now. Jack’s gone dark, Joel’s at the safe-house, and apart from HQ’s security personnel, everyone else is working from home. I doubt the perps have any further interest in the agency either, after all their unsuccessful attempts to access the Pine Gap server through our portal. Besides, Pine Gap has closed the portal at their end, so not even Jack or Joel can login to that system at this point.’
As she rose from behind the desk, she hooked fingers under the fringe of her brunette wig, dragged it off, and dumped it on the desk. Combing fingers through her short platinum blonde hair she said crisply, ‘We need to keep our eyes on the ball and get the prototype back. So let’s head to the Gap.’
As the two men got to their feet, Spooky frowned. ‘There won’t be much happening out there now the drone’s been taken.’
‘Maybe not. ’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘But we can still hunt the Commandos that stole it.’
Bugs’ expression brightened. ‘What about the guys from this morning?’
Already making for the office door, she threw over a shoulder, ‘We’ll come back for them later.’