The Transport

PART 2 - THE ROAD // Chapter 17 - Charles

Charles took his car to the Pentagon in the early morning, two hours before the transport would leave its parking place in New Mexico. He hadn't slept well, too many 'what if'-thoughts on his mind. He was still relatively new at this Gatekeeping stuff and hated his old mentor and boss for ambushing him with the assignment. Fresh out of CIA bootcamp, his first harmless analyst jobs under his belt, his mentor had informed Charles about the cancer. And that Charles needed to take over a super-secret long-term project. Charles had learned about the Gatekeeper responsibilities knowing nothing about the detail. Because that had been a catch: he had to agree first to the role as Gatekeeper before knowing what he was gating and keeping. Charles had felt privileged to receive such an important task so early in his career — how spectacular could it be? — and after a brief consideration, he had accepted.

What a surprise he had been in for!

A young Army lieutenant brought him through security and into the depth of the building. Charles had visited the Pentagon many times before, but always only in the office tracts, for briefings on stuff he had analyzed for his day-job. This was the first time that he stepped into a real situation room. Many monitors, some people quietly working on computer consoles. A large screen displayed a topographical map of the route of the transport, a red dot indicating the current position of TINCAN within the hangar. Another shaky image showed a real-life feed, high-altitude imagery. A series of monitors on the side showed feeds of empty conference rooms. The aide introduced Charles to the crew on site, three specialists who took care of the different data and video feeds and ensured communication with the various involved parties.

"How much do you need to know about the mission to do your work?" Charles asked the group.

"We were asked not to ask questions, Sir," the lead specialist clarified. "Don't worry, we can do our jobs, even if we are not completely in the picture."

"Where is everyone else?"

The specialist pointed at the three pictures of empty conference rooms. "The units join through video. You can sit over there, gives you the best view. Coffee is on the sideboard.

The indicated chair was soft and comfortable, and Charles doubted that he could sit longer in it without falling asleep. He plopped down, and the specialist led him through the various display panels.

The upper conference monitor showed a huge guy in Army fatigues entering. He was square-ish with muscles everywhere, a bald head and steely gray eyes. If there was anyone to have handily around when your car broke down or was attacked by terrorist, this was the guy, Charles thought.

"Good morning. Major Joe Argos, Army Rangers," the man introduced himself with a deep, raspy voice. The man looked as if could carry any load tasked to his unit on his own wide shoulders. "Our unit provides security on the ground."

"Charles Nauman, CIA, TINCAN ops lead. I ran a videoconference last night with the team and met your Major Bristol virtually."

"You have some influence, Sir." Argos stared right into the camera. "The President himself endorsed your mission personally. A definite first. Care to give us some details what's going on and what we're moving here?"

Charles shook his head. "Sorry, but TINCAN's purpose is to be kept secret. Major Bristol on the ground knows. His team will only see the covered object, never the real deal. Even if, they are bound to confidentiality under the Secrecy Act. You will never know. And even asking your men to reveal TINCAN to you will get you court-martialed."

"You are quick to make friends, are you?" Argos said, studying him like a butterfly collector his latest acquisition.

Charles shrugged, keeping his cool. "Wish I could tell you more, but my role does not allow this. It's secret and it's big."

"Secret and big are my middle names," Argos sat down. He looked like a shark evaluating a triathlon starter field.

"Nice try, Major." Charles already started sweating underneath his suit jacket. This was going to be a long, long day!

After a few minutes, two more video screens came to life and more high ranks appeared, one Colonel leading the transport unit that ran the logistics and the leader of the Air Force unit assigned to guard the open space. Both looked clean-shaven, square-faced, and annoyed.

"Rocker, Air Force. My birds are guarding your transport and coordinating the no-fly-zone with the civilian world. Delta and United hate you already."

"Thanks for making it possible. It's necessary, believe me," Charles replied.

"I'd rather know the background than your niceties," Rocker gruffly gave back.

Man, were these soldier types ever happy?

The third screen showed a chubby-faced woman with short blonde hair and a round face. "Colonel Sanders, 12th Transport Battalion." A female voice with a razor blade edge.

"Lieutenant Kimmig's team is yours?"

"The very same. And let me tell you, I am not happy to operate in the dark. We would like to understand what we are transporting."

"I spoke to Kimmig and his team yesterday, they understand what TINCAN is all about," Charles reassured her. Hierarchies grew very nervous when the upper levels didn't know what's going on.

"You expect him to operate effectively but at the same time he's unable to communicate openly with his command."

"You must have had other operations where..."

"Actually, no. You are the first."

Charles stared at the video monitor. A battle you can't win, Nauman. Cut it short!

"There's always a first for anything," Charles said, more courageous than he felt. "I am sure the team will do fine."

"Doctor Nauman," her voice could shave a full hipster beard. "Let me tell you how this works..."

"This is no discussion, Colonel, you have your orders," Charles barked back. Maybe that was the way to talk back to these guys! He was the Gatekeeper, and he was losing his patience. "You have been instructed by my valid authority codes and the National Security Advisor herself, reconfirmed by the President last night. Was there anything, I mean: anything, unclear in theirs and my instructions?"

All three officers stayed silent. Argos the Ranger stifled a smile.

Nauman 3, Military 0.

For now.

One specialist on the computer console cleared his throat to overplay the tension. "TINCAN's moving."