Christine stopped just inside the Command Center at Mountain Home, letting her eyes adjust to the low light. Display screens flickered and scrolled, a collage of aerial views, satellite imagery, data streams, and first-person views from equipment across the theater. Col. Staley stood at a central console on a slightly elevated platform, quietly issuing orders and receiving update briefings. Matt Skoberg stood up from a workstation and approached. Christine held up a hand and strode toward Col. Staley.

“What do you have, Colonel?”

Staley half turned while keeping her eyes on the screens. “We’re live on almost all our feeds.”

“What’s the status of the Forward Operating Base?”

“The Fairchild team successfully inserted them about 800 yards away from the complex where we received the signal from the Epsilon team. We’re directing them from here. They located the girl and two native HiMEC, but they are surrounded, and more hostiles are inbound. Apparently, they’ve already had contact.”

“The mess at the warehouse?”

“Yes.”

“Do we have access to the hostile’s comms?”

“Negative. Everything appears to be encrypted or beam. Working on it.”

“What’s the layout?”

“Very tight.” She gestured at two aerial views to the right. “Residential neighborhood to the north and west, dormant agriculture in the immediate vicinity with several storage buildings, old barns. The structures appear to be linked by well-concealed tunnels that likely extend under the residential area. To the east, there is a heavy concentration of forces preparing for contact. The Flathead division of the CSKT militia is probing their air defenses over the mountains north of the interstate.  Blackfeet are reinforcing from their bases on the border. The Nimiipu are pushing north to link up with Schitsumsh and successfully repulsed a flanking attack from the Moscow area. Looks like everyone learned from the last time and they’re letting their autonomous systems carry the load. Unless there’s a rapid breakthrough from the south, it looks like mostly CSKT militia here.”

“Colville continuing to cooperate?”

“They requested overflight from Fairchild again, which was denied. The governor is working the regional hotlines, and the PIC is cooperating, at least nominally. We’ve maxed our local authority. They are reluctant to grant us more latitude. We’ll need that Presidential authorization.”

Col. Staley paused to address a subordinate, and Christine turned to Skoberg, waiting patiently.

“We’ve got the feeds directly from the Pentagon Command Center, as well as the Situation Room in the White House. Your NSC colleagues are staffing up,” Skoberg reported.

“Any follow up from the President? He’s airborne?”

“The NATO meetings ended a few hours ago. He is on his way back and is tied in on Air Force One. Nothing further than what he said before about avoiding direct intervention. I get the sense they are happy to let the locals fight it out as long as it doesn’t lead to a wider regional conflict.”

“The EDF bases?”

“Both Ft. MacLeod and Cambray remain quiet. We’ve got a channel to Steele Barracks to keep them apprised of the situation.” 

Christine nodded, taking in all the displays. The President’s team seemed inclined to let the local combatants degrade each other, then pick up the pieces later. Finish your mission and get out. It fell to Christine to figure out how to walk that tight rope. Skoberg continued.

“We have a message from General Singh about a Special Forces observation team from Liberty.” Skoberg gestured to a workstation to the left and Christine saw Colonel Rudy Lamont with two other men in civilian clothes. Lamont made eye contact and lifted his chin in greeting. 

Two rows of mantis-eyed technicians encased in VR headsets managed virtual displays, visible only to them, feeding the array of large screens on the far wall. Each had a bucket nearby in case the anti-nausea medications proved ineffective. Back up human AI managers sat nearby ready to provide relief if needed. She studied her private displays, two from the FOB, one a feed from Sahar carrying communications from the Entity.

Throughout her intense interrogation of Sahar earlier after the confrontation, Christine read her as sincere and finally assessed the duplicity as serving the larger goal of better understanding the Entity, even though clearly Sahar was now compromised by the personal relationship. With Mei and Michelle still in custody here at Mountain Home, she tasked Sahar with using her new channel with the Entity to give them better intelligence during the operation on the front lines. The time pressure and Sahar’s valuable experience outweighed the possible risks.

The Air Force inserted a heavily armored mobile command post along with as much firepower as they could position near the fighting without provoking a response. Quick coordination with local law enforcement and the reliable elements of the National Guard enabled close communication with the tribal militias as well, in addition to Colonel Lamont’s Special Forces connections. Every well-intentioned community group in the Couer d’Alene area scrambled to broker cease fires, with limited success, but Sahar’s team were in good position to leverage that influence when they could.

A message appeared from Sahar.

“We’re ready for extraction. Medical units are on standby. All our aerial assets are grounded. Too much going on overhead. We’re broadcasting neutral EMS, which everyone is respecting so far. The air cover you sent is on station.” 

“You have a secure link with the Epsilon team?” Christine asked.

“Yes. They are holed up in a reinforced pole barn. They are completely surrounded, but there is a clear area nearby where we could land a medevac for extraction. The hostiles dropped the scout drones as fast as we put them in the area, so it’s too hot right now to just get them. We also have ground vehicles as back up. They are preparing to clear the area with an EMP pulse, then we’ll swoop in,” Sahar replied.

Christine turned at an exclamation from one of the techs, responding to action on the monitors. “Col. Staley?”

Staley pointed to a central screen. “There’s aerial combat to the east between the militias and the approaching tribal forces. The color-coded shapes display everything we’ve identified, air and ground – red for the hostiles, green for the tribal forces, blue for ours. We’ve negotiated dynamic IFF protocols with the militias to keep everyone onside, but the hostiles have some sophisticated cyber resources that are keeping them occupied. They’re bringing long range artillery to bear.” Flashes and expanding clouds filled some of the displays.

Christine watched the autonomous systems of all sides dance and probe, finding weaknesses and immediately destroying them. Clouds of drones maneuvered, continuously reconfiguring in response to counter measures, like living things grappling for advantage. Gaps appeared as beam weapons swept the sky, abruptly disappearing when destroyed by counterbattery fire.

“The analysts are going to have a field day with all this,” Skoberg observed.  Christine nodded, making mental notes assessing the production capabilities and covert supply lines providing the technology behind the weapon systems in action.

Staley pointed to another display. “So far, we’re seeing a mix of Ukrainian, Swedish, German, Israeli, even British suppliers in the militia deployment.”

Col. Lamont approached.

“We’re interested in their supply lines.”

“Interdiction?” Christine asked.

Lamont shook his head. “On the contrary. We don’t want any of them developing their own capabilities. As long as we know what they are getting and where, we can apply other kinds of pressure to control them. But if they start building their own, we have other problems.”

Like Ukraine, Christine thought to herself.

Lamont’s team murmured about laminar assault tactics and kill chains, gesturing to the screens.

“Who are they?” Christine asked, pointing to another display.

“The Flathead forces moving west along I-90. They’re carefully extending air cover well in advance to avoid the catastrophe they walked into the last time they tried to support CDA. The Blackfeet and Flatheads have clearly negotiated an accommodation with the corporate security forces of the enclaves in western Montana.”

Col. Lamont pointed to the same screen. “We’re seeing some novel use of drones for autonomous air assault infantry movement that appears effective.” The other SOCOM observers nodded with approval. “See those specks? Those are eagles. We wondered why they were flying into the battle zone. Turns out, they are carrying sensor arrays and are the lead elements of the tribal counter battery units. Someone is directing them. Very clever. Every time they pop up with a directed energy counter drone system, they hit it.”

Christine pushed down a feeling of foreboding. With the Presidential noninvolvement directive, her hands were tied. Her superiors were okay, even encouraging, an unrestrained firefight between the parties, while she needed to keep the girl and the grendels safe. These priorities were in direct conflict, and she was in the middle, balancing, walking the razor’s edge.

Although the local governments freely admitted a lack of control of the militias, they also did not want to be embarrassed again by an open demonstration of impotence. Waves of refugees streamed toward Spokane and Sandpoint to hastily erected receiving facilities.

Christine drew a deep breath. Once she secured the girl, that piece of the problem would be in her control, and hopefully one step closer to resolving how the missile breach occurred. The Entity seemed motivated to solve that problem as well. The rest of the pieces would be someone else’s headache. She considered notifying Michelle Shank, then decided not. They could wait a while longer. She messaged Sahar.

“Let me confirm that our team has all the protocols loaded for the UAVs on station and they’re coordinated with your plans after the EMP. Then you give the go ahead to the Epsilon team. Let’s go get our girl.”

NEXT