April 2: Down to Earth (44 page)

He paused and reflected on how well he knew the man. He didn't think he would be involved with any strange political actions, but he didn't know the man enough to risk his neck. He expected written orders when he got to the man's office and didn't expect to actually speak to the President. But he better cover his butt in case anything wasn't kosher and he was walking around with all this weaponry. It felt funny too but he hand wrote: By personal order of the President, for detached duty per verbal orders. Reporting to receive written orders from Captain Yoder. That should cover him, along with the call he'd automatically recorded on his pad. He was so early there were not any of his techs in yet. It just never even occurred to him anyone might challenge the Master Sergeant carrying out anything he pleased. He went out with two more bags almost fully equipped.

When he reported to Captain Yoder the items he requested were sitting on the corner of the man's desk. He had to have a pretty efficient staff to get them that fast. He was handed a credit card in his name and an Aerospace Force emblem on the face. He peeled the tab and set it to his genome. He was pleased to see whoever rounded things up, had laid out three swim trunks so he'd have a choice. He asked for the flash bangs, as much to see if anyone would argue with him, as much as really wanting them. Current protocol in the protective details he supplied excluded them. It appeared, since they supplied them, that they really intended to allow him to operate fairly independently.

Yoder handed him orders on the usual forms and a letter with the President's actual signature on it, detailing his tasking. A second letter formalized the action as a Presidential finding. It actually gave him a chill up his back, that anyone thought that might be necessary. There were travel documents and the a collection of briefs in individual folders. One for April, one for her host Satos, that had a different cover with a special trim along the edge.

"It took a direct order from the president to get this folder released to you. I was emphatically told not to look at it and that I would be subject to testing and verification later to assure I had not. She had to issue another finding, to upgrade your security clearance without a lengthy investigation. They still didn't want to release it without a guard to accompany it, until you had finished reading it. If you finish reading it, there will a lady from State meeting you, who you can give it to when you land in Hawaii. She's the only one you'll meet you can unload it on."

Gunny nodded easy agreement. Too easy for Yoder's comfort. Yoder launched into a briefing on April's visit, including a video of the airport fiasco, the CNN interview at lunch with Lin, the running scene at the beach and the final CNN interview right up to the lights out and then the video off her public eye she had shared with the President. He also showed an aerial view of her new home.

"Homeland boys bit off a bit more than they could chew, didn't they?" was the extent of his comment on the gun fight, ignoring the naval involvement.

"So, as you can see, she is heavily augmented with genetic modification," Yoder stated, in case he hadn't figured it out.

"Very likely, yes," he agreed. "I recognize her from the news a year, year and a half ago. I forget the story but recognize the face. I have seen three people before as fast as her and I am sure they were all natural humans, but it's very rare. I agree she has had mods to maximize her reactions and possibly ultimate strength and metabolism, but they all fall within the extreme range you find in natural humans. As far as I know nobody is changing the basic structures of the body they have to work with, though I don't doubt they will."

That surprised Yoder and he looked thoughtful, "That makes sense to me. You still have the limits of the basic mechanism to work with. But where did you personally see such frighteningly fast people?"

"Two of them were the Champion and runner up, at the National Combat Pistol competition. I have a picture of one of them engaging a group of three pop up targets. One target is driven over almost down, the second is pushed back falling and the man is holding the weapon aimed on the third with the trigger depressed waiting for the pistol to cycle shut so it can fire. The empty cases from the first two shots are still climbing in the air in the pic. The third fellow was a Fleet Champ boxer. He was so fast he'd hit the other fellow and your eye couldn't follow it. Even when you slowed it down on the video it still looked fast in slow motion. In life you'd see him twitch and the other fellow would be falling down. Your eye would catch the start and finish of the motion but the middle action was too fast to register on your brain. Scary people," he agreed, but failed to mention he'd placed third in the combat pistol competition.

"Yes," he looked thoughtful, but didn't pursue it. "There's a driver waiting for you. The President emphasized you were to be give any resources. After seeing the videos is there anything else you need before getting underway?"

"Sir, The personal information is going to be valuable," he said touching the folders. "If it can be made available, I'd like information on Satos' family and any household help they have. Especially this daughter that is a reporter and her boss. I realize it may be as sensitive as Satos' bio, but I'd very much like a brief on Harrison, who tried to arrest her."

"About that house she just bought, I'd like to see a team put it under an external observation, so nobody can sneak in and leave any surprises, or set an ambush. They will need my com address. I'd like a set of Hawaiian language lessons sent to my pad please. I can see Kalaeloa is out of commission, but if there are any other fields on the Island that can stand tactical aircraft at runway alert, I'd appreciate an address to call. I'd like them ordered ahead of time to accept mission tasking from me. It would be a huge help, if the alert crew had appropriate ordnance hung for close in ground support. I have a standard designator."

"I'd also like an address that I can call up to get whatever satellite image support is available. Those items would still not put me on a par with the support this young woman seems to have, on an everyday basis, but it would narrow the gap. I'd hate to be in the position of begging her assistance. If they could have some breakfast sandwiches and coffee on the plane, that would be very nice."

"You certainly are not shy when somebody hands you a blank check Master Sergeant," Yoder told him, with raised eyebrows at his audacity. "I'll see what I can do and have everything catch up to you on your plane." He stood up to dismiss him and went beyond to offer his hand. Gunny appreciated that.

The plane they delivered him to was a pretty little thing. White with Air Force markings instead of Navy. It was a six seat Rutan-Embraer with the adjustable spread V tail and the thin blade of a canard up front, that folded back flush to the fuselage at speed. The main wings didn't fold back. Instead they retracted to a stub and changed geometry radically. That meant no room for tanks, so all the fuel had to be in the fuselage, which was a trapezoidal lifting shape. This was the military version of a very pricy biz jet and capable of cruising at Mach 1.8 at about twenty thousand meters. The military only added com gear and missile protection. Gunny had never expected to get a ride in one.

It took just a moment to realize the only other person in the cabin was assigned as an attendant and the entire flight was for him. That made him feel how extraordinary this whole affair was, as much as seeing the President's signature on his orders. They stowed his gear in the flight cabin without him asking, instead of the baggage compartments. He appreciated that. They departed and climbed out with some hast and the sky turned dark outside through the tiny port as they leveled off.

The steward stirred about once they were stable and poured a wonderful cup of coffee. Then came back with the breakfast sandwiches he had requested. They weren't just something grabbed at a fast food place on the way. They obviously had been prepared in a VIP flight kitchen just for him. This is the way to travel he decided, quite amused. He loosened his seat belt a bit and invited the steward to relax and have a cup of coffee with him if he wanted. He opened the folder with the bright stripped edge and started reading. He could see the steward's eyes get big at the cover. Apparently, he knew what those bright striped edge markings meant.

* * *

April had not had wanted any help bathing before, uncomfortable with servants, but was grateful for the help today. Adzusa's maid scrubbed everywhere she could not reach easy with her left hand, which was about three quarters of her body she discovered. She just leaned on the shower wall with both forearms and let her scrub away. It wasn't near as much fun as Heather and Jeff in the shower.

It felt so odd as an adult person, to have someone diligently scrubbing, even between her toes. She was very gentle around her ribs, folding the cloth repeatedly and using it with a gentle swirling motion just like a brush. It hardly hurt at all. She sat back on the edge of the bed to finish being dried and let her work her pants over her feet, just like dressing a child, until she could grasp the waist band without bending.

Then she took both hands in hers and pulled April erect from the edge of the bed, straight legged, so she didn't have to strain to stand up near as much. Once she was vertical, a few tugs and tucks finished everything. If she could avoid constantly insulting the injured area, maybe it would heal faster.

She was sitting down with Papa-san to breakfast, about the time Gunny Mack was dropping into San Diego to refuel. Adzusa and Lin had gone off to town for something and she was enjoying chatting with Papa-san alone. He was telling a few stories about his working days. He spoke in generalities, but it was still interesting even without naming names. She repeated Easy's story, about Jan Hagen showing up for parachute drop in a tuxedo, with a gift wrapped package. He enjoyed that.

* * *

When they landed in San Diego Gunny was surprised to see his steward open a cabinet and slip on a ballistic vest. He also pulled a heavy machine pistol from the storage, that was too small to be called a machine gun, but too big to fit in any holster. Instead he hung it on his chest, with a belt that clipped under a retaining strap on one shoulder. Two double magazines went in pockets in the vest. That seemed unusual security for a plane landing and provisioning on a Naval base. After considering the implications of the man's actions, Gunny retrieved the fanny pack with his pistol from the next seat, where he had set it and put it on with the bag to the front sitting in his lap. He ran the zipper all the way back and turned the insert around, so it was right handed again while in the front.

The requested reports did catch up with him in San Diego and a Navy man came aboard after a thorough ID check from the steward, with a thick pile of folders and numbers to contact the requested support in Hawaii, he explained what kind of alert aircraft normally were active in Hawaii and detailed what kind of ordnance they would hang on them at his disposal. "All I have to say is, I've worked with some unusual special forces and spooks fella, but I've never seen them hold aircraft on runway alert and configure them at one man's call. You have to have one hell of a lot of pull."

"Not usually Sir," Gunny assured him, "But this is at the President's personal direction."

"That would explain it," he allowed. "Tindal you have two options here. I can leave you aboard this aircraft, which is already being refueled and send you on, or I can stuff you in a combat aircraft that won't be as comfortable. It would be faster , but by the time you suit up and get instructed in ejection and other procedures here and unsuit at the other end, it will about even out. It's just I was told to expedite you, so you tell me what suits you. I have to warn you though," he said giving Gunny an appraising eye, "I might have some trouble fitting you with gear. Did they kind of fudge the numbers to let you in the service? You look like you are right on the edge of the envelope for size. Which would you like?" he asked.

"I'd just as soon stay here with a head and be able to relax, read these folders and have lunch on the way. I don't really have any desire to rush to get stuffed in a p-suit and arrive there all frazzled, when I may need to be alert. You're right too, I enlisted at eighteen and I wasn't quite through growing. It's harder for them to kick you out, than never let you in, but it has been a hassle fitting in issue gear," he explained. "I've never been up in a fighter and it would be fun, but not when I have duty at the other end to attend to. Thanks anyway," he said sincerely.

"Nice to meet somebody with some sense," the officer said. "If you ever want that joyride in a hot plane, just for fun, come see me and I'll take care of you," he offered and jotted down his contact info on a small note for Gunny, before he hustled down the stairs. Gunny put that precious little document in his wallet.

In a few minutes a luggage truck approached and delivered two insulated boxes, he figured must be their meals and other in flight supplies. He noticed the steward waved the man off that delivered to stop well away and brought it aboard himself, but not before he looked inside both carefully. The way the man examined each item and then tipped the container and studied the bottom, made him sure the man wasn't concerned he might have been given roast beef instead of pastrami. Gunny knew the drill and the man was making sure he didn't carry anything aboard that would go BOOM. In fact Gunny admired the man's techniques and thoroughness. They had experts in to teach the President's protective detail a lot of the same things.

That and the vest and armament made him worry. He was used to providing such protection, not receiving it himself. Was the man concerned someone might be a threat to his passenger specifically? The more he thought about it, the more he decided he better adjust his attitude. He had relaxed and felt safe, just because he was on a base and in a military vehicle. But what he already knew, should have told him that Harrison's Patriot Party had resources in the military, beyond his own people in Homeland Security.