lines in Iraq during the Gulf War to direct close combat support. All were volunteers, and in fact Danny had chosen them all as part of the elite security force that kept Dreamland safe. The final cut – a trooper to replace Sergeant Powder on the Whiplash action team – would be made by the present members of the deployment squad themselves.
The recruits were divided into four three-man teams, each matched with a Whiplash trooper, who would rotate to a new group after six hours. Liu, as team sergeant, would move between the teams.
‘All right. You have your orders,’ said Danny. ‘Sergeant Liu.’
Liu stepped forward. At five-six and maybe 140 pounds, he hardly seemed the typical hard-assed special operations soldier. Indeed, most of the men in front of him outweighed him by a hundred pounds. But he could have taken any of them with one hand tied behind his back, even the three men who, like Liu, had black belts in Tae Kwon Do.
‘Team One up,’ said Liu.
As he did, he pressed a button on the remote control in his pocket. An M/V-22 Osprey gunship revved from the other end of the range, bullets spilling from the pair of Avenger Gatling guns in its belly.
As bullets began splashing twenty yards away, the first team joined up with Sergeant Kevin Bison and began running toward a helicopter that had been set up to simulate a hostage rescue situation. Danny was pleased to see that none of the men flinched as the massive shells from the guns landed.
That would no doubt change by the end of the day, but it was good to see that they were starting well.
Dreamland 2010
Colonel Victoria Margaret Cortend folded her arms impatiently as the Dolphin transport helicopter strode in toward its landing dock at the top-secret base, a series of automated landing and auxiliary lights popping on. Nearby, an I-HAWK or Improved HAWK surface-to-air missile battery swung around, keeping the approaching aircraft well in its sights; Cortend suspected that the missile had been situated primarily to impress visitors, as any intruder would have been blasted out of the sky by the more sophisticated laser defenses at the base perimeter.
Bozos. Just the sort of arrogant waste of resources she detested. It was typical in the special commands. Weeding out the problems here would be a pleasure.
Cortend waited until the chopper settled down on the cement, then with a brisk snap undid her restraint and climbed out of the helicopter. A staff sergeant grabbed at the door. She stared at him until he finally stood back and snapped into a salute. Returning it, she walked toward the pair of Air Force security personnel posted nearby. The men had the good sense to challenge her, and after a very proper exchange she was cleared to proceed to the Jimmy with its flashing blue light a short distance away.
The same sergeant who had held the door earlier ran to grab her bag; Cortend dismissed him with a glare and proceeded to the SUV. She had long ago learned that it was a serious mistake to allow anyone – anyone – to touch her things. She did not ask for assistance, nor did she accept it. While being a colonel brought with it certain prerogatives of rank, having a slouch-man – her term – was one she could do without.
If all colonels, and generals, followed her example, the military would be a much leaner and meaner organization. As it should be.
‘Colonel Cortend,’ said the driver, stepping from the car. His salute was sloppy, but recognizable.
‘Is that a question, Sergeant?’
‘Oh, no, ma’am. I just, uh – I’m here to take you to your quarters.’
‘I’m not going to my quarters. Take me to the commander’s office.’
‘The Taj?’
‘Young man, if you don’t know where the commander’s office is, why were you assigned as my driver?’
‘Um, I do know, ma’am. I mean, uh –’
He tried to open the door for her but she was too annoyed to allow it.
Dreamland had a certain reputation back East. Obviously it was overinflated.
The airman got into the truck and began driving away from the Dolphin portal.
‘The Taj? As in the Taj Mahal?’ said Cortend, suddenly understanding what the airman had said.
‘Well, uh, yes, ma’am. Officially, it’s Administrative Building Two, but uh, everyone just kinda calls it the Taj.’
‘Everyone except me. Take me there,’ said Cortend.
***
‘Come,’ said Dog, hearing the knock on his door. Thinking it was Ax or maybe one of the scientists, he continued scribbling the last thread of his thoughts about the project he’d just reviewed. It involved further testing of a space-based laser weapon; while Dog was all for the weapon, the tests would cost several hundred million dollars at least, money that he frankly thought would be better spent on next-generation UAVs. But that wasn’t his call; he said the tests were a reasonable step if money could be found.
‘Lieutenant Colonel Bastian.’
Dog put down the pen. Colonel Cortend was standing in the doorway; the sergeant assigned as her escort shifted nervously behind her.
‘Colonel Cortend,’ Dog said, rising. ‘Welcome to Dreamland.’
Cortend stood in the doorway, frowning. The frown deepened as he extended his hand; she looked at it as if it contained a dead fish, then extended her own. She grabbed about halfway and squeezed – an old Pentagon trick, Dog knew, to make a firm grasp seem life-threatening.
Frankly, Cortend didn’t look as if she needed any tricks. She had shoulders that would cow an NFL linebacker.
‘Are your quarters satisfactory?’ said Dog, trying to break the ice as Cortend surveyed the boat of a desk and the matching cherry bookcases that graced his office. He’d inherited the furniture from General Elliott, who had paid for it himself.
‘I expect they will be,’ said Cortend.
The frost in her voice removed any last doubt Dog might have had about how pleasant the colonel’s stay might be. He put on his Pentagon face and told her that she was welcome to go where she wanted, and that everyone at the base would fully cooperate in any way possible.
Cortend’s scowl deepened. ‘I’ll see the computer labs and the Flighthawk hangar first. Then I want an office. My staff will be arriving at 0800.’
It was rather late for a tour, but Dog didn’t bother arguing with her. ‘Security detail will take you around. Chief Gibbs has already set everything up and will personally make sure that you’re squared away in the morning. We’ve allocated a pair of rooms on the first level of the building. There’s a conference room as well. The chief has a handle on the badges, phones, computers, everything you need. Ax is really incredible. You’ll be impressed.’
‘Ax?’
‘That would be Chief Gibbs. One of the best, believe me.’
Dog ignored her scowl and rose, intending
