Autonomous Operation

A secure military area within Newark International Airport, New Jersey
May 16, 2006

The US Air Force Boeing 737 aircraft rolled to a stop, stairs built onto a motorized base pulled up to the side of the aircraft, and the door opened. Men and women, mostly in uniform, descended the stairs, and boarded a pair of buses. The last passengers to descend the stairs were two men in civilian clothes. A man standing near the base of the stairs, walked forward, and offered his hand to one of the men. “Welcome to America, Mr. Razmara. I was told you have been very helpful. I hope you enjoyed the debriefing period.”

The man replied in halting uncertain English. “Yes, It was very fine. Near sea. Very nice.”

“I have a car waiting. It's a short walk.”

They had held him in a large military base beside the ocean. No one told him where it was. Razmara had never seen the ocean before, and found walking beside it a novel experience.

He was well treated and allowed to call his wife. They had interrogated him almost every day, and asked many questions about the Revolutionary Guards, weapons, training, barracks, headquarters, discipline, procedures, communications, codes, senior officers, everything, but mostly they questioned him about the operation to infiltrate into Azerbaijan.

After the first week, they brought him documents, or sometimes recordings of voices, and asked him what was meant by this word, acronym, or phrase. Often he didn't know or could only speculate on possible meanings, but what he did know he told them, and, for the most part, his questioners seemed satisfied with his answers.

They took the bird away from him after the helicopter landed, and he never saw it again. One day he asked one of his interrogators what had happened to it. They told him that before he left this place, he would be required to sign a document that committed him to never speak of certain things to anyone, including classified equipment he may have knowledge of. This specifically meant the mechanical bird.

All the people he met in the camp spoke English, and as far as he knew the only people who spoke Farsi were his interrogators. Some people spoke English with a strange accent he found hard to understand, but perhaps it was just his limited vocabulary and lack of experience in the language.

His room had a television and all the channels were in English, but most of the programs were in that hard to understand English accent, so he used his free time to practice his English using the tapes they had given him.

“Captain, did you know the Iranian government has declared you dead?”

“My wife tell me this.”

Razmara paused and then continued in his halting English.

“First time, I dead. Hope next time, is good too.”

Razmara watched the man's reaction to see if his attempt at a joke, crossed the language barrier.

“We find that dead people are often more valuable than the living. Death wipes many things from the record.”

The man continued, “Before I take you to your new home, we need to complete some paperwork in order to issue you with a green card.”

“Green card?”

“It's a pass that means you are a legal resident.”

“Like American passport?”

“It's the first step to getting an American passport.”

The man opened the car's rear door, and indicated Razmara should enter. He climbed in and sat behind the driver. The man went around the vehicle, and sat beside the driver. He turned to Razmara.

“I am here to help you adjust to your new life in America. Please ask me any questions you have.”

Razmara had only one question. “When my family come?”

“Their plane has left Frankfurt, and they will be here in five hours time.”

“Thank you.”

He looked out of the window as the car left the airport, and turned onto a wide road filled with many large cars. They passed a very long building surrounded by a huge, almost empty parking lot. He silently mouthed the name across the front of the building, 'Crossroads Mall'.

He decided he would like living in America, but unlike the old man, he would never go back.

The End

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Chapter 61

2005-12-08T02:27:00.000-08:00

The Walter Reed Army Medical Center, Washington, D.C.
May 15, 2005

Sergeant Jackson entered the hospital reception, and asked for Sergeant Allen's room. The woman at reception typed on a computer, and gave him the room number and directions to get there.

Jackson walked into Allen's room and found him propped up in bed reading a book.

“How are you, Joe?”

“I'm fine. Good to see you, Delisle.”

“How's the shoulder?”

“It still aches. The doctors say I'll get some use back and even some feeling, but it will never be like it was before.”

“That’s too bad. Is the army going to invalid you out?”

“The Colonel himself, came by yesterday, and told me that I could be invalided out if that’s what I really wanted, but the Army needs all the Special Forces it can get, and that means it needs all the Special Forces instructors it can get. So I agreed to stay in, and they are going to send me to instructors school.”

“Good! Any idea what you want to specialize in?”

“I thought unmanned and autonomous weapons. From what I've heard, I think we will be doing a lot more ops using robots in the future. It looks like the future of warfare, at least our kind of warfare, but I will miss being on active service.”

Jackson nodded his agreement, and wondered how many of those operations would need men and how many would just use machines.

“You remember what happened?”

“I was firing single shots at the terrorist who were about two hundred and fifty meters away. I had hit at least eight of them, when an RPG round came arcing over, and exploded way behind me, then the next one came directly at me. You can see those things coming because of the propellant burning. Next thing I know, I'm lying on the ground and I can't get up because my left arm doesn't work. I managed to sit up, and tell you I'd been hit.”

“The same guy nearly got me. He had a launcher with a thermal imagining sight. I brought it back. If you are curious, it's hanging up in the base museum."

“Delisle, I never got a chance to thank you for saving my life.”

“We saved each others lives. That’s what a team does.”

“Still, I owe my life to you.”

Jackson silently acknowledged Allen's statement, before changing the subject.

“Pasco is back on duty. He only spent one day in hospital. You would think he would have the decency to get a real wound after what he put me through.”

“Pasco is a good soldier. He's a lucky soldier too. Good and lucky are what every soldier wants to be. Are you still working on that classified project?”

“You should know better than to ask about classified projects. I can tell you, the project wants me back as a technical adviser, and pulled some strings to make sure it happens.”

“Are you happy about that? You were always a soldier's soldier; by-the-book, and always keen for training and exercises. I find it hard to see you working in an office with a bunch of geeks.”

Sergeant Jackson thought for a moment, and said, “When I was a boy, my uncle was a soldier. He was my father's older brother. Everyone in the family respected him, and went to him for advice. He always looked so smart in his uniform, and while the other boys wanted to be lawyers, policemen or professional athletes, I always wanted to be a soldier.

“My uncle twice went for Delta Force selection, and both times failed. He told me years later, how disappointed he was. So when I found out I had successfully completed the selection, I was overjoyed. It was my highest ambition to be a member of Delta Force, and achieve what my uncle wanted so much. I thought becoming a Special Forces soldier was the best thing that could ever happen to me. There was nothing else I wanted to do, but that was until they assigned me to the classified project. I now realize, developing robotic weapons is something I want to do more.

“I am not a brilliant engineer or a computer wizard like some of those guys, but what they don't have, is a soldier's perspective. They don't see things the way a serving soldier does, and they need that perspective if they are going to develop robotic weapons the Army can use – weapons that will win battles and save soldiers' lives. I know I can contribute a lot.”

Allen thought Jackson was also a lucky soldier, but then luck was what happened when preparation and opportunity met.

“I hear you and Pasco are up for real medals.”

“They are talking about the Silver Star”

Jackson switched to another topic. “What happened to the Iranian? He was a strange one.”

“I don't know, the CIA took him, and the mechanical bird, away as soon as we landed, and I never saw him again. You are right, there was something strange about him. I was conscious the whole time in the chopper. He clutched that dammed bird to him all the way back and just stared at me. Didn't say a word.”

Allen paused before continuing, “I would have happily killed the motherfucker. He led us into a trap.”

“I don't think he knew about the shepherd or that the shepherd would fire a gun.”

“I think we got lucky. I've thought a lot about that night lying here in this bed. I think he meant for us to be attacked on the way back, and the shepherd’s gunshot prematurely triggered the ambush. The Iranian knew about the terrorists in the village, and deliberately didn't tell us. He didn't know about the helicopter. He must have thought, once we were on the other side of the village, we were trapped with no way out. I think he wanted us to die there, or worse get captured and paraded as spies through the streets of Tehran, and then spend years in a stinking prison cell.”

“Maybe! I thought it might have been a deliberate trap.”

Sergeant Jackson had told his debriefers more-or-less as much, but he had thought more about having to kill the Iranian if he jeopardized the team's safety, which he unquestionably had. As the person in command, he thought he could not have possibly ordered someone else, but then he hadn't known Allen would have willingly done it.

Allen said, “Some Army Ranger buddies of mine came by to visit. They told me that Army Ranger Captain you met, Freedman got promoted to Major.”

“I'm not surprised. He seemed good enough at working the system to make General.”

Chapter 62

Chapter 60

2005-12-08T02:21:00.000-08:00

National Security briefing, the White House, Washington, D.C.
May 2, 2006, 0900 Eastern Standard Time

“Mr. President we have an analysis of the Special Forces mission you authorized two weeks ago into the Iranian border area of Azerbaijan, and its consequences.”

The President replied, “I've read the mission reports. When I send our men and women into harms way, I am always concerned to know what happens to them.”

The National Security Advisor said, “First, the outcomes of the US Army Ranger mission and the follow-on covert mission to recover the missing autonomous aerial vehicle.

“The Rangers achieved all mission objectives according to plan. A large group of terrorist infiltrators was successfully intercepted, and most were, killed, wounded, or captured. The remainder fled back to Iran.

Several of the captured men are from the Department of Liberation and Revolutionary Movements of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards, and they are providing interesting intelligence on current operational plans for Islamic terrorism.

“We also captured two Turkmenistan nationals. It appears they were part of a group of four men from the Turkmenistan Islamic Front, who the Iranians were training on terrorist operations.

“The Army Rangers were picked up according to plan, and flown back to their temporary base in Romania. We have transferred eight of the captured Iranians and the two Turkmens to a secure location for further interrogation. We handed the rest of the prisoners over to the Azerbaijani authorities.

”There were one US fatality and eight wounded, two of those seriously.

“The follow-on Delta Force mission also achieved its objectives, although not according to plan. The classified equipment was recovered, and an Iranian Revolutionary Guards defector successfully extracted. An estimated twenty-five Iranian and local terrorists were killed or wounded.

“There were two US fatalities and four wounded. The fatalities were a CIA Special Activities operative and a civilian contractor. One of the wounded, a Delta Force soldier, is still in hospital recovering and will have a permanent disability.

“You know, I am strongly of the view, the US military should make every effort to ensure men and woman injured in the line of duty are given the opportunity to stay in the military and perform productive roles.”

“Mr. President, I have conveyed your views to his commanding officer.”

“The mission team leader, a Sergeant Jackson, showed exceptional courage during the mission, and almost certainly saved the life of one of his men. He also displayed intelligence and resolve to get them rescued. You will get a recommendation that he receives the Silver Star, and that one of the team members, a Sergeant Pasco, receives the Bronze Star.”

“From what I've heard, they deserve it. I will approve that request, and I would like to present it personally to both men.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“The Republican Guards defector was handed over to the CIA. They report he is cooperating, and providing good information.

“Now for the consequences of the two operations. The Azerbaijan government is now convinced it has to do more to secure its border with Iran. They claim they were unaware of the scale and seriousness of the infiltrations. We have helped them develop a plan to get better control over the border areas. The usual things; build roads, schools, medical clinics, train the police force, and crackdown on corruption. We are also training a quick-reaction border protection force.

“The Azerbaijanis followed up on the information we provided them on the Arab terrorists and their likely destination. They tracked them down, but unfortunately, their police bungled the raid, and most of the terrorists got away, but they did kill the leader, and he has been on our wanted list for quite a while.

“The Russians called our Moscow ambassador in, and protested our interference in an independent country allied with Russia, but it was pro forma. The Russians seem to recognize that what we are doing is to their advantage.

“There has been nothing at all from the Iranians. We expected some kind of reaction, but there was not even the usual rhetoric in the government-controlled press. There was a report from the Iranian News Agency about a large number of Revolutionary Guards killed by an avalanche during an exercise in Northern Iran. It looks like they want to keep this defeat secret.”

“Do we want to keep it secret?”

“We let some details leak out, although without any mention of the classified equipment. It didn't make much of an impact in the mainstream media, but it did cause a fair amount of interest at the usual places on the Internet. So we are confident our enemies know about this defeat, but not how we pulled it off.”

“The classified equipment, what's it called?”

“It’s called the Mobile Autonomous Area Denial System.”

“Yes, MAADS. What’s our assessment of its performance?”

“I spoke to Jason Watts, the Deputy Director at DARPA. He told me, MAADS was an experimental project, and they were a little surprised, it could be successfully deployed at such short notice. DARPA funds a number of autonomous weapon projects, and they believe MAADS is one of the most promising.

“The Deputy Director told me they originally funded MAADS, in large part, because key people on the project demonstrated a clarity of vision combined with the capacity to execute, a combination they often find lacking.

“He also told me, DARPA's mission includes advancing understanding of defense related technologies and their development. Even if the MAADS system could not have been deployed, they would have still considered it a success because of its contribution to knowledge and understanding of autonomous weapons development. DARPA sees considerable potential in the MAADS technology, as well as the development process MAADS used.”

“How did MAADS technology perform?”

“Overall, it provided several capabilities that within the mission constraints, we couldn't have provided by any other means. In particular it provided, detailed real-time intelligence of an area far from our nearest conventional military resources, and the ability to use lethal force against terrorist infiltrators after an extended period in the field. It successfully provided these capabilities despite several key equipment failures and failures to perform to specification.”

The briefer continued speaking. ”I also talked with the Army Rangers' Commanding Officer, and he told me the detailed real-time intelligence provided by MAADS, both before they put boots on the ground and after they had deployed, proved extremely valuable in gaining tactical advantage.

“He believes that being able to precisely locate the enemy, and then put their men in the right place on a just-in-time basis will better utilize our limited and over-stretched Special Forces. He thinks this kind of very precise real-time intelligence, together with the ability to use lethal force in remote areas without deploying troops, will significantly change the nature of Special Forces operations.

“He also told me senior Army officers are keen to run exercises with MAADS systems on the blue force's side as well as the red force's side in order to develop tactics and doctrine on how to best use robotic technology, and how to counter it.”

“What does Delta Force think?”

“Delta Force is not like a conventional military unit. What the NCOs think is more important than what the senior officers think. I read Sergeant Jackson's mission report and it is a fascinating insight into the future of man versus machine combat. I'll arrange for you to get a copy Mr. President, but what struck me was how he needed to out think the robots.”

“I will ensure I read it. Continue!”

“A proposal has been made to fund the MAADS project for another eighteen months, and to considerably expand its objectives. A primary objective is to have a significant number of MAADS systems ready for deployment whenever we need their capabilities. DARPA has already decided to provide the funding.

”There is one other thing, Mr. President. We have satellite intelligence suggesting the Iranians are building two camps near the Turkmenistan border that appear very similar to the camps in Northern Iran where they trained the terrorists who infiltrated Azerbaijan.”

“So we think the Iranians are targeting Turkmenistan next. Do we know when?”

“It could be this fall, but we believe next spring is more likely.”

“So, Turkmenistan is going to be next year's small war?”

“It looks very much like it will be, Mr. President, but stopping the infiltrators will be more difficult because the border is much longer, the mountains are much higher, and it is equally far or further from any place we can base troops or position our Naval assets.”

“Let's make sure we have enough of those MAADS systems ready by next spring. It looks like we are going to need them.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

Chapter 61

Chapter 59

2005-12-08T01:45:00.000-08:00

Mihail Kogalniceanu Military Air Base, Romania
April 19, 2006

The MAADS team had fallen into a regular routine after the hectic events of a week earlier. Charles had created a schedule, so someone was always monitoring the live images from the remaining MAADS system.

They had destroyed MAADS system D after Jackson had disabled all the robots. Charles had supported Fiona's proposal they fly the aerial vehicle back to System B. But the effect was to draw attention to the fact System B no longer had an aerial vehicle, and they were ordered to destroy it as well.

Captain Freedman justified the decision by saying, “Flying aerial vehicles around remote mountains, and out of communication, looks a good way to lose them. The Army doesn't want any more classified equipment lost.”

Fiona called Charles over, and said, “Look at this, coming from System A's aerial vehicle.”

Charles walked across and saw an infrared image from the aerial vehicle. It showed more than twenty red dots strung out in a loose line.

“What are they?”

“I'll switch to the visual image. You can just make out white shapes here and here. They are sheep.”

“Are there any shepherds?”

“The aerial vehicle is in the process of checking out each infrared target to establish which are people. It hasn't found any yet, but it has only just started. If you look back at the infrared image, these heat points here have a larger signature.”

“Do you think they are people?”

“No, I think they are horses, but I did get a glimpse of a dog a minute ago. Where there is a dog there is likely to be an owner.”

“Is System A's threat level still set to medium?”

“Yes”

“Then set it to low. If a shepherd appears, and he's armed, I don't want MAADS killing him. We can set it back if they are armed infiltrators.”

“Fiona typed on her keyboard. “OK, it’s done. I have a visual on those larger infrared heat sources. It's two men leading a number of pack horses.”

Charles said, “Pull the tactical robots back from the trail toward the control unit. Make sure they still have the trail in view, but are far enough away they should remain unnoticed. How far away are the men from the robots’ position?”

“They are about a kilometer away.”

“I need to get Captain Freedman.” Charles rose, and left the room.

He returned a couple of minutes later accompanied by the Captain.

Captain Freeman asked Fiona, “How close to the MAADS system are the men now?”

“They are about six hundred meters away. The aerial vehicle thinks it is tracking eight men.”

“Are any of them armed?”

“We can't tell from the aerial vehicle's view. We will have to wait until they come into view of the tactical robots, which should be in another two or three minutes.”

Captain Freedman said, “Charles told me, you have set the threat level to low and as a result MAADS will not use lethal force in any circumstances. Is that the only way to stop the system killing innocent civilians?”

Charles intercepted the loaded question. He had noticed over the last week that Captain Freedman had become progressively more antithetic toward MAADS, and Charles wondered what was in the reports he sending to General Waxley.

“With the previous settings, if MAADS detects an armed man who is not carrying an IFF, it concludes they are hostile. Setting the threat level to low will ensure MAADS does not harm innocent civilians.”

“How long will it take to reset the threat level?”

Fiona answered, “Thirty seconds. By the way, I checked the satellite schedule while you were away, and we have the satellite for the next three hours.”

Fiona, Charles, Richard, and Captain Freedman sat watching the alternating visual and infrared images transmitted from the tactical robots, waiting to see what happened next.

A number of sheep came into view, moving along the trail. More sheep appeared on the screen, and then two dogs, one on each side of the flock of sheep. The first person they saw was a boy about twelve years old. He was carrying a stick longer than the boy was tall. A man closely followed him with a rifle slung across his back. The man was leading a horse, then more sheep appeared, followed by eight heavily laden horses accompanied by four armed men.

Charles broke the silence. “My guess is they are smugglers.”

Captain Freeman responded, “Do we know what they are smuggling?”

Charles looked at Freedman. “Does it matter?”

“They could be smuggling weapons.”

Richard said, “This is a wildass guess, but I'd say they were smuggling sheep.”

Charles shot a look at Richard that said 'keep out of this'.

Charles said, “We have no way of knowing what is in the packs, but when the terrorist infiltrators came through it was obvious, their horses carried weapons. There is no sign of any weapons on these horses. We should let them pass unmolested.”

Charles looked pointedly at the Captain. “We have to assume these are civilians, even though they are armed.”

Captain Freedman didn't reply, but signaled his agreement by a slight nod of the head.

They watched the screens in silence as men, horses, and sheep moved along the trail, past the watching robots.

***

The following morning, Captain Freedman entered the project room and came directly to Charles.

“You are ordered to destroy MAADS system D immediately.”

“What happened to my proposal that we recover it?”

“Your proposal was evaluated, and rejected due to nonavailability of transportation and other necessary assets within the required timeframes.”

Charles had tried hard to persuade Captain Freedman of the importance of recovering the last remaining MAADS system.

“Is there any possibility, the decision can be reconsidered? We need to know the effects of the parachute deployment and several weeks on the mountain passes. There may be significant damage or other problems we cannot detect remotely?”

“Mr. Corrigan, we took those factors into consideration in making the decision. But you must understand that MAADS' failure to protect itself, the loss of the aerial vehicle, your inability to destroy the lost aerial vehicle, and then Sergeant Jackson disabling all of the System D robots, has resulted in the perception that leaving any of these systems deployed entails too many risks. Destroying the last MAADS system is a higher priority than recovering it.

“You must destroy the system as soon as possible.”

Even though Charles knew MAADS was designed to be disposable, it was still difficult for him to destroy the last remaining example of something he had spent more than two years working to create. He had made every effort to ensure the success of MAADS, and now he had been told to turn the last working system into a pile of burnt and broken metal that would rust away on a remote mountainside.

He reluctantly told the others to get the tactical robots and the aerial vehicle back to the control unit, and to prepare the system for destruction. The mood in the project room was melancholy, and no one said what all thought. This was the end of the MAADS project. It had failed or hadn’t succeeded enough to justify continuing, and all that was left was to tidy up the loose ends.

Charles thought they had learned a lot from this deployment, and it was a shame they wouldn't get to apply those lessons.

It was time to update his resume, and start calling around to see who was hiring.

Chapter 60

Chapter 58

2005-12-08T01:12:00.000-08:00

A high valley in the Talish Mountains, Azerbaijan
April 14, 2006, 1500 Local Time

Jackson enjoyed the easy downhill walk back to where he had left Pasco. It was a pleasure to be alive, and not have to wear the insulated material. He chewed on the dried beef he had left, and when that was finished, the peanuts.

He reached Pasco just before dusk having contacted him by radio forty minutes earlier.

Pasco had made a steaming mug of hot coffee with his little stove, and handed it to Jackson as he arrived.

“How did it go?”

“More-or-less according to plan.”

Jackson gave Pasco enough of the details he could appreciate what had happened, while minimizing information that revealed how MAADS worked.

“So a rescue mission should be coming soon.”

“Assuming they could see me. I estimate it will take a minimum of twelve hours to organize. We might see it before dawn tomorrow, otherwise tomorrow night.”

“I think we should celebrate with a couple of MREs. Chicken or sausage?”

“I’ll take the chicken.”

“Good choice.”

Jackson asked “Any action here?”

“I saw some men collecting bodies after you left this morning, but no one came close to my position.”

“You think they know we are still here?”

“I don’t know, but they give no indication they want to find out.”

When both men had finished their meals, Pasco said he would keep watch until midnight then wake Jackson to take over. Jackson lay back against the rock, using Pasco’s pack for a pillow, and fell asleep.

Jackson was sleeping soundly when Pasco woke him.

“Everything is quiet. Nothing on the comms net.”

Jackson put on his night vision goggles, and could see the cup in Pasco’s hand.

“Is that for me?”

“Hot coffee from room service.”

“Thanks, I might get myself one of those little stoves.”

Jackson took his coffee, and moved to a position where he could see out across the valley below them. The night was cold, but Jackson knew it would be a while before he complained about the cold.

He settled down to keep watch until 0400 when he would wake Pasco for the last watch before dawn.

***

His comms headset came to life. “Eagle One, come in.”

“This is Eagle One.”

“This is Swift Condor. We are approaching your position. ETA is fifteen minutes. We need a sitrep.”

Jackson gave them a summary of the last thirty-six hours, and then went into more detail on the helicopter shoot down. “The terrorists fired at the helicopter and brought it down. We don’t know what happened to the crew.”

“Is it possible the crew survived?”

“I don’t know, but it's possible. If they did, then they are likely in the village.”

“Is either of you injured?”

“Pasco has a foot injury but can walk. I'm fit”

“Can you mark an LZ at your location?”

“No suitable LZ here. Repeat no suitable LZ.”

“Can you get to a suitable LZ?”

“Affirmative, but we need time, at least ten minutes.”

“You've got it, but no longer?”

“Roger and out.”

“No, we have more questions for you.”

Jackson hurried over to wake Pasco. “A rescue helicopter is on its way. We have to get down the cliff. How's your ankle?”

“For a rescue helicopter, I'd dance down.”

Jackson grabbed the pack, and started down the steep trail to the valley below.

The voice over the net asked, “Have you seen the layout of the village?”

“Only from a distance. It's one street, half a dozen alleys on the side I saw, perhaps fifty dwellings in total, with some animal pens, and what looked like storage sheds.”

“How many bad guys are there?”

“All I can say is, there are twenty less after last night.”

Jackson waited for the response. “We are going in to find the missing men. If it’s a one street town, the main force will start at one end, and sweep through the town toward a blocking force positioned at the other end.”

Jackson switched to the local net. “Pasco, did you hear that?”

“I heard.”

Jackson made it to the bottom of the cliff. He looked back to find Pasco most of the way down.
Jackson walked a hundred meters from the cliff, took out Pasco's handheld strobe ready to signal the helicopters when they arrived. Pasco hobbled up to his position.

Pasco said, “I hear the chopper.”

Jackson couldn’t, but then his hearing was still messed-up from the RPG blast.

“Eagle One, we are almost at your position. We need a signal.”

“Turning the strobe on now.”

Jackson flipped the switch and pointed the strobe into the air.

“Eagle One, we see your signal. We are coming down.”

Jackson could see the helicopter through his night vision before he heard it. As it descended, he could see three other helicopters circling above.

The Blackhawk helicopter landed, Jackson helped Pasco over to it, hands pulled them onboard, and it lifted off. The helicopter contained ten Delta Force soldiers and one officer. Jackson recognized some of the men from the hostage rescue team based in Germany.

The officer said, “We are the blocking force. We will go into position at the southern end of the village. Our job is to seal all exits from the village. Sergeant Jackson, are you good to go?”

“I’m good to go.” Jackson knew mentioning his injured rear-end in front of these men guaranteed he would be the butt of jokes for a very long time.

“I want you to pair up with Holmes, and cover the alleys on the left-hand side of the village. Pasco you are security on the helicopter. You need ammo?”

Both men answered yes, and the officer handed them a pack containing magazines. He asked, “Anything we should know before we go in.”

“The terrorists fight, but are not well organized. They have RPGs and at least one of the men we killed knew how to use one. No sign of any surface to air.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. We will keep the choppers high.

The officer handed Jackson a pair of gloves, “You will need these.”

A minute later, the helicopter hovered fifteen meters above the ground, and men threw rappelling ropes out the open doors. They went down the ropes in a practiced order. Jackson was the last to go. Pasco gave him a thumbs-up as he exited the door.

Two seconds later he was on the ground, watching the men in front of him fanning out as the helicopter moved higher and away from the village. Jackson followed Holmes as he moved to the left, stopping where they would be able to see anyone exiting the side alleys.

He was familiar with the procedure for this kind of search and locate operation. The searching forced kicked and blew down doors and walls until they found what they were looking for. Fifty, one and two room, houses wouldn’t take long to search assuming they met no resistance.

The two helicopters he had seen hovering on the far side of the village were now high in the air. He couldn’t see the men at the other end of the village, but they should be breaking down the first doors by now. The fourth helicopter, presumably an armored gunship, hovered directly over the village.

Jackson heard the distinctive sound of a short-barreled shotgun firing, over the voices coming across the net. Shotguns were used to blown the locks off doors and generally intimidate anyone inside.

“Two men cuffed, no hostages.”

“One man cuffed, no hostages.”

The calls continued as the men worked their way down the village.

Jackson saw a man run out of one of the alleys, but as far as he could tell, the man was unarmed. He let him go.

He heard gunshots.

“Double tapped a bad guy. He came to the door with a gun. Dumb fuck!”

Jackson saw two men running out of an alley halfway down the village. One was clearly armed. He aimed a little ahead of the running man, but before he could fire, Holmes fired, and the man went down. The other man kept running.

“Found the spook. He has a broken leg, otherwise OK.”

There was a pause, and then, “He says the pilot is dead.”

“Do we have a body?”

“The spook says they buried him yesterday.”

“We aren't going to dig him up. Withdraw to the extraction points. Go!”

As he was withdrawing, Jackson saw three men burst out of a door a short way down the narrow dirt street. The men started firing in both directions. There were more men inside the house firing out onto the street. Jackson heard a shouted ‘Allaho Akbar’.

The men in the street stood no chance, and within seconds, all three of them were lying dead or wounded. The men inside the house continued firing. Over the net, he heard the officer give orders to the gunship hovering above them. Someone would be painting the house with a laser target designator.

He had seen a Blackhawk’s Gatling gun in action before, but it never failed to chill him when the stream of projectiles demolished a structure. The stone and mud building seemed to shudder before disappearing in cloud of dust.

He heard women wailing as he moved back to the extraction point.

The helicopters came down to pick up the men. Jackson heard over the net, everyone was accounted for.

Jackson was the last to climb aboard the helicopter. It immediately lifted off. The D men were pumped, happy to have pulled off a successful rescue mission without taking casualties.

Jackson turned to the officer, and told him Herb’s body was still lying in the meadow. Jackson saw the hesitation in the man’s face. He didn’t want to spoil the mood by bringing onboard a dead body.

Jackson continued looking into the officer’s face, and saw his sense of duty take over. Jackson handed him his GPS showing the location he had saved when he was beside Herb’s body. The officer looked at it and nodded. He spoke into his microphone, and handed the GPS to the copilot.

The helicopter changed course, and a short while later landed. Jackson was the first out, and found Herb’s body immediately. He saw three men behind him with a stretcher. They lifted Herb’s body onto the stretcher and carried it back to the helicopter.

When they were back in the air, the mood in the helicopter was somber.

They flew for over an hour before landing at the outer edge of a rundown airport with several wrecked planes in view. Jackson thought they were in Georgia, but there were no signs, and he had no idea, what the Georgian language’s script looked like.

Two battered refueling trucks with Cyrillic lettering were waiting. The officer ordered the men off the helicopter while it was refueled.

Jackson walked over to the second CIA man whose name he didn’t know. He was lying on a stretcher, and recognized Jackson. “Herb, how did it happen?”

Jackson knew the people who lived wanted the men who died to be heroes. He would have to agree a story with Pasco for the debriefers, as well as Herb’s friends and family.

“The terrorists shot him while he was defending himself and my buddy Sergeant Pasco.”

“Herb was a good spook, a good Special Activities man, but he always wanted to be a real soldier. You guys, I mean Delta Force, were his heroes. He got his chance to be a real soldier, and I guess he paid the price. I think he would have thought the price worth paying.”

“Yes, he was a hero. He died defending an injured man.”

“Sergeant Delisle Jackson.” Jackson leaned over and shook the man’s hand.

“Carlos Vincennes, and thank you for telling me that.”

Jackson needed to know what had happened to cause their extraction to go so disastrously wrong.

“Carlos, what happened when you came in to extract us? Why didn’t you land on the GPS location I gave you?”

Carlos looked him directly in the eye, and said, “The pilot was seriously unhappy about coming back a second time. I almost had to force him at gunpoint. He didn’t do any of the pre-flight checks, and I don’t think he looked up the GPS reference you gave us on the map. I don’t know what he was thinking.

“Once we were in the air, there was nothing we could do except home in on the beacon. Russian helicopters are not fitted with GPS. The Russians always thought, making the Global Positioning System available to the public, was a trick to get them to use it, and then we would turn it off or spoof it whenever it was to our advantage.

“Ever tried to use a handheld GPS inside a helicopter? Well, I can tell you they don’t work. The locater beacon was our only way of finding you.”

Jackson knew the story. Let your emotions take over in a combat situation, and you might as well stick a gun to your head and pull the trigger. The spook deserved an explanation.

“We lost one of our packs and the terrorists must have turned the beacon on. We had turned on ours, but from the direction you were coming, the other beacon would have had a stronger signal.

“I knew there were two beacons broadcasting, but I couldn’t tell how far apart they were, and the pilot just wanted to get in and out as fast as possible.”

Jackson thought war was a balance between immediate decisive action and meticulous preparation, and knowing when each was appropriate often separated the living from the dead.

Twenty minutes later the helicopters were refueled and ready to go. Jackson climbed aboard with the rest of the men. Herb’s body had been removed. He presumed alternate transport arrangements had been made for it. The mood onboard the helicopter seemed lighter. The dead man had been an American but not one of them, a D man. Not only, were all the Delta Force returning from the mission, they had recovered two of their own.

A good day indeed.

Chapter 59

Chapter 57

2005-12-08T00:28:00.000-08:00

Mihail Kogalniceanu Military Air Base, Romania / Talish Mountains, Iran Azerbaijan border
April 14, 2006, 1400 Local Time

It had been twenty minutes since Richard had sent the commands disabling the tactical robots, and he still felt shaken by the experience of almost killing his friend. He had watched the images, from two of the robots, showing the masked and caped Jackson raise his rifle to his shoulder before the transmissions stopped. The last frame clearly showed the muzzle flash from the weapon.

Now the camera on the robot, stopped in the middle of the pass, had stopped transmitting. Jackson must have shot it out from an angle to avoid coming into view of the camera.

Richard had no way of telling him, they had shut the robot down, and it was no longer a threat. Jackson’s communications set transmitted and received encrypted messages. Even if they knew the frequency to transmit on, any message that wasn’t properly encrypted wouldn’t be heard, even as static.

Richard saw a clear logic to Jackson's destruction, and it was just a matter of discovering his purpose. It was like those puzzles his young nephew loved so much. A situation where there was an underlying reason for otherwise inexplicable events. 'A man in a strange costume, destroys the cameras on three robots, and the computer on the fourth. Why?'

Richard knew Jackson as an intelligent man who never did anything without a well-thought out reason. Jackson had a deliberate precision about his actions. Preprogrammed routines seemed to guide his actions; assess situation, decide response, execute response.

By the time Jackson come into view of the tactical robot whose cameras still functioned, Richard had solved the puzzle.

He wondered whether any of the other three watching the screen with him had the answer. He could tell them, but they were about to find out, and why spoil the drama of his friend's revelation.

The four watched in silence as Jackson removed his hood, poncho, and pack, followed by his combat vest and body armor, before pulling off a shirt made of the same material as the hood. He then put the body armor and combat vest back on.

Jackson then took a tube out of a pocket in his vest, and squeeze some of its contents onto his right index finger. He knelt, and seemed to be using his finger to write something on the shirt lying on the ground, before holding it up in front of the camera. It was hard to read the green letters against the camouflage colors of the material.

Fiona picked out the letters. “N, E, I can’t read the next letter or the one after that, then R, The next looks like an S and then and O.”

Charles interrupted, “I think the last letter is a Q.”

Captain Freedman said, “Need rescue. Why else would he take those risks?”

Jackson put the shirt down and held up his GPS to the camera. Captain Freedmen read off the coordinates, and wrote them down on a small note pad.

Jackson moved the GPS out of view, turned over the shirt, squeezed more of the green camouflage paint onto his finger, and again used it to write. When he had finished, he held the camouflage material in front of the camera. His letters were larger this time, and easier to read.

All three of them read the words separately. “Injured?” “Captured?”

“Why the question marks?”

“It means he doesn’t know or is unsure,” Freedman said.

Jackson put the material down, and folded it before putting it into his pack. He lifted the pack onto to his back, gave a slight wave of his hand, and walked away in the direction of Azerbaijan.

Captain Freedman addressed them. “You weren’t aware of this, but Sergeant Jackson was leading a mission to recover the missing aerial vehicle. It looks like that mission has run into trouble. I need to inform certain parties of what has happened here.

Chapter 58

Chapter 56

2005-12-07T23:10:00.000-08:00

Mihail Kogalniceanu Military Air Base, Romania / Talish Mountains, Iran Azerbaijan border
April 14, 2006, 1130 Local Time

Richard said, “Charles, call Captain Freedman, and tell him there is something he needs to see.”

“What’s happening?”

“I suggest you call Freedman first. He’s going to be pissed if he misses this.”

Charles put his curiosity to one side, and went to the white phone on the wall to tell the Captain he needed to come to the project room, immediately.

Charles completed the call, and went back to Richard.

“What's happening?”

“Look at this. This is live by the way. It’s TMR4 again.”

The screen showed an infrared image, and he could see three bright red points on the indistinct outline of a man’s head between solid blue shapes he recognized as rocks. The screen suddenly filled with a bright red flash.

“What was that?”

“That was someone firing a weapon. It’s the third shot I've seen. Our Batman impersonator is shooting up the robot. I wonder why?”

Charles thought the mystery man could be a Special Forces soldier, but that didn’t explain why he was on the pass, why he would take the risk of coming into view of MAADS, or why he would fire on the robot.

Fiona said, “You must come and see this. I missed it on the live feed, and just spotted it when I was reviewing the visual images. It happened about fifteen minutes ago. I’ve zoomed it up to the maximum, and this is a frame-by-frame.”

The screen showed the blurred image of a man moving in jerky slow-motion. He removed something from his head to reveal an indistinct face, looking directly up at the camera. All you could tell about the face, was the skin was dark, very dark. The man then replaced whatever had covered his head.

Charles thought you don’t find people with skin that color in the Caucasus region. The people were olive skinned Caucasians. That's where the word came from.

At that moment, Captain Freedman charged into the room. “What the hell is going on? You dragged me away from a very important call to Washington.”

Captain Freedman had been trying to find out the status of the the Delta Force-CIA mission. Nothing he had found out nothing indicated it hadn't gone to plan and consequently, the soldiers were well away from the MAADS system.

Charles knew he had to take control of the situation before Richard started pressing Freedman’s buttons. “Captain, the mystery man is shooting at one of the tactical robots.”

“Is it shooting back?”

“No, Captain. You have to realize robots don’t react like real soldiers. While shooting back would be an automatic reaction for a soldier, the tactical robot is completely unaware it is being shot at, if we can talk about a robot being aware or unaware. It shoots at images with specific characteristics, whether that image is shooting at the robot or not, is irrelevant.”

Charles could see, the Captain was no longer interested in what he was saying. His attention was focused on the sequence of images on the screen. It showed infrared flashes from gunshots at regular intervals.

Richard turned from the computer screen he was watching, and said, “The TMR’s computer is out.”

Captain Freedman asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means the robot can no longer move, fire its weapon, or move its cameras. All it can do is act as a static camera position, which is how we designed it.”

A short while later, Richard said, “It looks like our mystery man has stopped shooting.”

“Has the control unit sent the other robots in support?”

Richard answered, “The control unit is defending against infiltrators from the opposite direction. If our mystery man had come from Iran, then the control unit would send other robots as backup, but this tactical robot is purely defensive. From what I recall of the code, there is no provision to send another robot if it's incapacitated.”

Charles knew Richard thought his explanation perfectly logical, and Captain Freedmen thought it militarily idiotic because each operated in a different frame of reference. Richard thought of the robots as cheap disposable pieces of equipment whose loss or destruction was of minor consequence compared to solving the overall problem. Like chess pieces that you sacrificed to win the game. Whereas the Captain viewed them as both surrogate soldiers and valuable classified equipment whose preservation was a high priority. Charles had neither the time nor the energy to bridge the mutual misunderstanding.

The Captain continued his questioning. “Could he be trying to disable the robot before taking it?”

Richard replied, “It's too heavy for one person to carry, but why bother when you could buy one of the all-terrain-vehicles mail order. He might try to push it, an unlikely scenario in my opinion. I think our friend has something else in mind, like taking the computer.”

“I thought you said the computer was damaged and no longer functioning. Why would he want it?”

Richard turned to the Captain and started speaking in his ‘explaining really simple things to children’ tone of voice. “If he wanted the computer, he could also buy it mail order. What's valuable is the software, stored on two identical hard drives inside the computer. He only needs one of those to be undamaged, and he has hit the jackpot.

"Of course, when I refer to value, it is not in the usual context of an item in a commercial transaction where it is of approximately equal value to both parties. A copy of the software has no value to us because we can produce as many copies as we wish at zero cost. In contrast, the software may have substantial value to another party.”

Charles was familiar with Richard's tendency to intellectualize when under stress, and was about to cut him off, when he got back on topic.

“Hard drives are sealed units, and the fact the computer no longer functions tells me nothing about whether either of those hard drives is damaged. It's likely, at least one is still intact, and even if both are damaged, someone who knew what they were doing, like me for example, could almost certainly recover the data and software stored on the drive.”

Captain Freedman ignored Richard's largely incomprehensible explanation. “Can we bring up the other tactical robots to attack the gunman?”

“If you wait a moment, I will communicate your orders to them.”

Charles abruptly interrupted. His patience with Richard's aggressive sarcasm was wearing thin. “What Richard means is we can instruct the control unit to move the tactical robots to the same area as the gunman, where they will attack, if they recognize him as a target. However, their behavior is preprogrammed, and we can't direct the robots to fire on a specific target. If the robots see him, and he fits their predefined definition of a target, they will attack.”

Richard added, “And if he wasn’t wearing his party outfit.”

Charles continued, “Yes, the man’s outfit hides his thermal image, but a tactical robot seeing him from a different angle, or up close, may result in the robot recognizing the man as a target.

“Captain, we have just found out something else interesting.”

Captain Freedman ignored Charles, and spoke in his military command voice. “Bring the other robots up to the man’s location.”

“Are you sure?” Richard asked.

“That was an order.”

Charles said, “Captain, I think this man knows about MAADS and is acting the way he is for reasons we don’t understand.”

“Mr. Corrigan, you have already lost one part of this classified weapon to an enemy of the United States. I suggest to you that losing another would be negligence.”

Charles sighed audibly. “Richard, do as the Captain ordered.”

“I think we are making a big mistake.”

“Just do it!”

Richard turned back to his keyboard, and started typing commands for the MAADS control unit to relay to the tactical robots. Fiona looked anxiously at the three men, wanting to say she was sure the blurred image of the man’s face was familiar, but she was unwilling to enter the emotionally charged conflict between them.

***

Jackson moved around the rock, to a new position where he could see the robot, and, if its cameras were still capable of moving, be seen by it. The pair of cameras and the rifle were still directed at his previous position. Jackson thought ‘so far so good’. He got to his feet and cautiously made his way toward the robot, making sure he kept clear of the rifle's line-of-sight. The robot gave no indication it was still functioning.

When he reached the robot, the first thing he did was to remove the rifle’s magazine, and eject the round in the chamber. The trigger on the rifle had been replaced by an electrical firing mechanism, so he couldn’t pull the trigger to check the weapon was no longer loaded.

He wanted to keep the bulky hundred round magazine, but wasn't going to remove his poncho to put it in his pack. Armor piercing rounds capable of penetrating the robot's armor would have been better, but the extra regular ammunition might prove useful. He placed the magazine on the rock where he could access it quickly.

Jackson positioned himself in front of the robot’s cameras. He had no way of determining if the cameras still functioned. He hoped they did because this was the riskiest part of the whole operation.

He turned a full circle to confirm no other robots were in view, before removing his homemade hood.

The material stuck to his skin as he tried to remove it, and by the time he had the thing off his head, it looked like what it was, a cutup piece of camouflage material.

He felt a little foolish as he squatted down in front of the cameras, and of necessity almost directly in line with the rifle barrel, like someone posing for a photograph. He raised one hand, gave a little wave and mouthed ‘Hi guys’.

***

Richard watched the mystery figure start to remove the camouflage material from his head with a growing sense something was seriously wrong.

With the headgear removed, Richard instantly recognized Jackson’s face. Now his friend had removed his protection against the tactical robots, Richard had just sent to his location. As soon as they saw the hoodless Jackson, they would kill him.

Richard was on the edge of panic. He shouted, “It’s Jackson! The man is Jackson. That’s how he knew.”

Richard had already turned to his keyboard, and was frantically typing the commands to stop the tactical robots. He had to make an effort of will to slow down, and take care not to make mistakes that would only result in delay. Richard was shaking with the tension. He wanted to scream at Jackson ‘Putting the fucking hood back on you idiot.’

Richard hit the Enter key. A couple of seconds later he got an error message. “Fuck! Goddam!”

He would have to rekey the entire command.

***

It felt good not having that piece of high insulation material wrapped around his head.

Jackson took the tube of cammo cream from his vest pouch. It sucked as a writing tool, but it was the best he had. He looked around to make sure none of the robots were approaching, and caught a glimpse of something a hundred meters away that immediately disappeared from view. For several seconds, he wasn’t sure what he had seen, and then the robot reappeared, heading straight toward his position.

He dropped to the ground, and crawled to the far side of the disabled robot, wondering if there was a programmed restriction in the software to prevent one robot shooting at another. It seemed a faint hope.

At ten kilometers an hour, the robot would take less than thirty seconds to reach his position, and an unknown, but shorter, amount of time to get him in view. He dived around the robot, and grabbed his discarded hood. Back behind the cover of the disabled robot, he pulled the hood over his head, adjusting it, so he could see through the eyeholes. He felt the edges flapping in the breeze where the tape holding it together had come away.

He was just in time to see the robot come into view forty meters ahead of him. Its cameras were rotating and pointing to the right.

Jackson had his rifle up to shoulder firing three shots that ricocheted off the steel hood. If he ever got the opportunity to explain his actions, he would call those shots suppressive fire, even though he knew they would do nothing to stop the robot's advance. As a D man, he had years of training, conditioning him for immediate action in specific situations. Much of that training would be futile against robots. He needed to think through his actions.

Jackson held his fire, as the robot kept coming toward him, its cameras rotating around, then stopping and focusing on him, Jackson shot out the right-hand camera and then the left-hand one. He could see both smashed lenses through his rifle sight. He put another bullet in each to make sure.

The robot kept coming, as if nothing had happened, and the robot's rifle rotated around to point directly at him. Jackson found it chilling. It was like shooting a man in the face and then having him raise and aim his rifle at you.

His pulse raced from a combination of adrenaline and heat stress. Jackson forced himself to think. The robots navigated using internal maps, with minimal reliance on what they could see through their cameras. They were like blind men who found their way using memorized routes.

He realized there was nothing to stop the blind robot from firing at a memorized probable target. The robot kept coming straight toward him with its weapon pointed directly at him. Jackson had a sick feeling there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Then without warning, the robot stopped no more than two paces from his position, seemingly unable to decide what to do next.

Jackson felt a mental relief that his body didn't share. His peripheral vision was blurred and he knew he had been on the edge of panic - a raw primeval fear of the Dark Forces beyond human understanding. He had to deal with the situation rationally. He tried to put aside that he couldn't keep his thermal protection on much longer, or he would collapse from dehydration and heat stress.

His gut told him to disarm the robot directly in front of him. His brain told him it was more important to remain vigilant for more robots. Jackson tried to adjust the hood to give more visibility, and almost missed the robot that came in from his left. It suddenly appeared no more than ten meters away, or perhaps he just became aware of its presence.

The robot was stationary, with its weapon and camera pointed directly at him. The bulk of the disabled robot no longer hid him. He brought his rifle around, and ignoring the risk from ricocheting rounds, squeezed off two shots. Both missed because his left arm was shaking, and he could see the intact camera lenses through his riflesight. He stepped back and to the side, to stand behind the disabled robot. He dropped to one knee and rested his elbow on the robot's chassis. It lessened the effect of the shaking. He squeezed off two shots and saw the right-hand lens shatter. Two more shots broke the left-hand lens.

His pulse was pounding inside his head, and he desperately needed a drink of water. He strongly suspected, he was beginning to suffer from confusion and agitation, symptoms of dehydration and heat stress, two things Special Forces soldiers are taught to avoid at all costs.

He poured the last drops from his water bottle through the mouth hole. He was still very thirsty.

He tried to analyze his situation. There was another robot. Searching for it played into its strength – ambush from a concealed position, but time wasn't on his side. He pulled the half empty magazine from his M4, and inserted a full one.

Five minutes later, the robot hadn't appeared, and he wondered if it had got itself into a ‘TMR situation’, Richard’s euphemism for falling in a hole. His thirst was a constant distraction. His mouth and throat were so dry he could no longer swallow.

Jackson decided he had to establish the location of the remaining robot before he could risk removing his thermal hood. He would have to move quickly. He couldn’t keep the thermal suit on much longer.

If the robot had fallen in a hole, it would be almost impossible to find from the level ground. He had to climb the mountainside again to get a view down on the pass. As he walked across the flat rock surface toward the steep ground, he was shocked at how unsteady he was, like an old man or a drunk. It brought his precarious physical condition home to him.

He started to climb the steep rock face, only fifty meters from the first place he had climbed. The contrast in his physical condition was stark. Previously, he had scaled the rock without difficulty. This time it took all his strength to hold on, and pushing his body up with his thigh muscles seemed an effort almost beyond him. His hands and arms shook uncontrollably.

The climb exhausted his remaining reserves. He was at his physical limit, and could go no further. He turned to survey the pass, and nearly lost his balance when he saw the pitifully short distance he had climbed.

Jackson knew this was the end. He had stopped sweating, his pulse was racing, and he felt nauseous and dizzy; at the point of passing out, and falling down the rock face. He had to remove the thermal hood to have any chance of surviving past the few minutes before he physically collapsed.

His shaking hands felt like they were enclosed in thick gloves, as he tried to pull the hood off his head. If the robot had him in view, he would be dead before he knew the hood was off.

Eventually it came free, and he could see it in his hand before his mind registered it was off. He held it without moving for a moment that could be his last, before he shoved it into a vest pocket.

Jackson enjoyed the sensation of cool air on his skin, as he waited for the excess heat in his body to dissipate from his now unprotected head.

Wherever the last robot was, it didn't have him under observation. He turned back to view the pass and within seconds he found it. It was sitting out in the open, and not moving, less than fifty meters from the first robot he had disabled.

Perhaps, because he knew, with the hood removed, his body would start to cool down, he felt calm, and capable of rational analysis for first time in what seemed an extended period, but must have been only a few minutes.

Jackson inspected the robot through his monocular. It was motionless, and its cameras weren’t performing their normal 360-degree scan. He couldn't see the cameras. All he could see was the steel hood that protected them. The open end of the hood was at an angle to him, and he could just see its far side. A shot that hit inside the far edge of the hood should ricochet around inside the hood, but he needed a better angle.

A few minutes later, he was still terribly thirsty, but he no longer felt nauseous, and the shaking in his limbs had become a slight tremor. He began to slowly descend the short distance he had climbed, all the time watching the stationary robot for signs of movement. At the bottom, he found a trickle of water. He held his water bottle under it until there was enough for a couple of mouthfuls, and drank the ice cold water. He held the bottle under the trickle again, and half-filled it. He took a long drink before continuing.

He put the improvised hood, now in poor shape, back on his head, and walked toward the stationary robot's location. As it came into view, he could see the inside far edge of the steel hood.

Jackson put a dozen single shots into the gap between the near and far side of the hood. Some of the rounds would strike the inside of the steel, and ricochet back into the hood damaging the cameras.

When he inspected the robot through his monocular, he could see debris inside the hood. He moved closer, until he could see directly into the hood, and verify both cameras were destroyed.

Jackson made his way back toward the disabled robots. When they came into view, all three were in the same positions he had left them. He disarmed the second and third robots, and at last felt sufficiently safe to remove his headgear permanently. Jackson pulled off the hood, and put it into an empty ammunition pouch. He would keep it as a souvenir.

He found the tube of cammo cream he had dropped, tucked it into a pocket in his combat vest, and turned back toward the disabled robot. It was time to get his message out.

Chapter 57

Chapter 55

2005-12-07T21:03:00.000-08:00

Mihail Kogalniceanu Military Air Base, Romania
April 14, 2006, 1030 Local Time

“Charles, come and see this.”

Charles walked over to Richard who continued speaking. “You know how I like to watch the MAADS images.”

Charles was familiar with Richard's habit of viewing recorded images from all four robots, the control unit, and the aerial vehicle simultaneously on his computer screen, each in a separate window, and often while he was doing something else.

“This is about half an hour ago from TMR4 in MAADS system D. I'll zoom in for a better view. You see it now?”

“It’s a man.”

“It looks like a man in a bad camouflage version of a batman outfit. Now look at this infrared image.”

“Wow! It looks nothing like a man on the infrared.”

The screen showed the faint outline of a manlike head and torso shape topped by three points of intense red in a triangular pattern.

Richard said, “I think someone has found out how to defeat the MAADS targeting system.”

Charles didn’t relish telling Captain Freedman about another problem with MAADS.

“I have to tell the good Captain about this. Perhaps he can explain how a person with the knowledge to confound MAADS could be on the pass.”

Charles returned a couple of minutes later accompanied by Captain Freedman. “Richard, can you show Captain Freedman what you showed me. I also woke Fiona, and she is on her way.”

Captain Freedman watched in silence as Richard reran the two sets of images.

Charles said, “We think it could mean he knows how the MAADS targeting system works because he's using thermal masking to hide his infrared image. Any idea who that could be?”

Captain Freedman immediately thought of the Delta Force Sergeant who had seemed to know something about the technology, but the Delta Force soldiers should have completed their mission, and even then they should have been twenty kilometers away from the robots.

Before the Captain could reply, Richard interrupted, “I've found another image. This is a couple of minutes ago from the control unit’s camera.”

The screen showed the caped and hooded man standing on the mountainside. He appeared to be searching with a small scope.

Charles asked, “Is he still in view?”

“No. Just after this, the man climbed back down, and he's now out of sight.”

Captain Freeman rose and said, “I need to find out if anyone knows anything about this. Call me immediately if the man comes back into view of any of the units.”

Captain Freeman left the room just as Fiona arrived.

Charles asked, “What do you think, Richard?”

“I think it’s unlikely to be someone who got lost on their way to a fancy dress party. It has to be someone who knows how MAADS works.”

“I agree. Show the images to Fiona.”

Charles asked, “Fiona, can you get the System B aerial vehicle to search the Azerbaijan side of the pass for any other people.”

“It's patrolling several kilometer into Iran at the moment. It will take a few minutes to reposition it.”

***

Jackson had decided to target the first tactical robot. Some large rocks should allow him to approach unseen to within twenty meters of the robot. He began to walk toward the rocks keeping to the lowest route he could find.

He traveled across bare rock with gouge marks in it, as if someone had removed the vegetation and soil with a bulldozer, and then washed the surface clean. When he reached the rocks, he got down on the ground and started inching forward on his stomach, ensuring he exposed as little of his head as possible.

When the top of the robot came into view, he pulled back out and looked for a good shooting position. There was a notch in the rock a short distance to his left, and he moved sideways toward it. The physical exertion and mental tension were making him sweat profusely inside his thermal suit. Sweat was running into his eyes and obscuring his vision. What had been until now, just physical discomfit, was starting to become physical distress. His body was telling him, the heat and loss of fluids was becoming a real problem.

He stopped to think. Without the aerial vehicle, the control unit didn’t know where he was, and the robots only moved, on instructions from the control unit. The other tactical robots and the control unit were far enough away not to pose a threat. A few minutes without the hood behind the protection of the rocks should allow him to cool down.

He carefully removed the hood, and lay back against the rock. It felt good not to have that thing over his head. He looked up at the clear blue sky and directly above, was an aerial vehicle. The shock of the sight nearly made him jump to his feet to see if the robots were coming toward him.
A reaction that may well have gotten him killed as the robot behind the rock would have seen him without his hood. He pulled the hood back on, even though it would make no difference to the aerial vehicle’s ability to track him as a target.

Jackson tried to calm himself and think. He took out his monocular, and lay back against the rock. It was definitely a MAADS aerial vehicle with those distinctive fans on each side of its body. Where had it come from?

They couldn't have deployed another MAADS system, despite what the Ranger Captain had told him, because only four existed. Sammy had explained to him that while they talked about recovery of a deployed system and immediate redeployment, it was something they could potentially do, but currently, redeployment wasn't a practical proposition without taking the system back to the labs for testing and repacking.

Jackson put the fear there were two systems, and consequently eight tactical robots on the pass, out of his mind. The aerial vehicle must be the one that had tracked the terrorists over the secondary pass, and the MAADS team had found a way to link it up the MAADS system that was already here.

He had been gaining confidence, his plan would succeed, and he had the risks under control, but now, being out of sight of the robots no longer meant being safe.

Jackson sat against the rock and reviewed his options. He concluded his original plan still had a better chance of success than getting an injured Pasco over the mountains, even if it meant keeping his thermal suit on longer, and remaining prepared to take on the other robots.

His position on the rocks gave him a good field of view toward the border with Iran, the direction the robots would come from. His position wasn't protected, but a conventional protected position was no use against an enemy, that if you exposed enough of your head to aim a rifle, would shoot you literally between the eyes. If his thermal masking failed to fool the robots, he would in all likelihood be dead before he found out.

He stayed seated with his rifle up to his shoulder and waited. When he tipped his head back to check on the aerial vehicle, it wasn't there. Jackson didn't know what that signified.

Ten minutes later, keeping still had helped him cool down to the point where he was sweating only moderately, although he still had an urgent thirst. The waterfall kept coming to mind, clear cold water, as much as you could drink. He imagined standing under it, the icy water quenching his thirst, cooling his body, and washing the sweat away.

He brought himself back to the reality of his position, by forcing a vision of the robots waiting in ambush for him around the waterfall.

He looked into the sky, and could make out the aerial vehicle, well over a kilometer away, down the valley that led into Azerbaijan. For some inexplicable reason it had lost interest in him.

If the robots were coming, they should have reached his position by now. The aerial vehicle leaving and the robots not arriving, persuaded him he could continue with his plan.

He moved sideways across the rock, and found the notch provided a good view of the rear half of the robot. The cameras stopped their scan and pointed directly at him. The two lenses were the obvious vulnerable point on the robot and he could shoot out both without difficulty, but that would defeat his purpose in being here. He dropped down out of sight behind the rock.

He removed the magazine from his rifle, and ejected the round in the chamber. He then took the single magazine he had of armor piercing rounds, inserted it into the rifle, and chambered a round. He moved back up to where he could see the robot, and moved his rifle into position. The cameras once again stopped moving and pointed directly at him.

He centered the rifle's sight on the steel box attached to the rear of the ATV chassis. He squeezed off one shot, then a second. The cameras kept pointing directly at him, and the robot gave no indication it was under attack. There was something unnerving about the robot's lack of response. He resisted turning around to see if anything was approaching him from the rear.

He continued to put armor piercing rounds into the armored box until the magazine was empty. The cameras didn’t move.

Chapter 56

Chapter 54

2005-12-07T20:13:00.000-08:00

A high valley in the Talish Mountains, Azerbaijan
April 14, 2006, 0800 Local Time

On his way up the trail in the warm spring sunshine, Jackson worked systematically through possible avenues of attack on MAADS. His objective was to disable the weapon on one of the tactical robots, or the control unit, without damaging the cameras or the robot's communications capability.

The obvious vulnerability was the infrared camera. Knock it out, and the targeting system no longer functioned. It sounded simple, but he had to be certain which camera was infrared. Jackson had watched Sammy attach the cameras to several of the rotating platforms, and he had put the infrared camera on the right each time, but did Sammy always put the infrared camera on the right?

He also needed to be certain, only infrared was used for targeting. He knew the targeting software was based on earlier software that used visual images to target. If any of that programming was still in the system, then just knocking out the infrared camera would get him killed.

Destroying both cameras solved these difficulties, but he needed the visual image camera intact. He would have to find another avenue of attack.

Whether an unarmed man could safely approach one of the tactical robots, depended on the threat level setting. When Richard had first asked him to define when a man could be categorized as threatening or nonthreatening, he had to explain to them it depended on the context. In most circumstances, an unarmed man would be considered non-threatening and not targeted, but in some circumstances he would. A man clearly advancing on his position in a combat zone would be a legitimate target. Even an apparently unarmed man could pose a threat, as a yesterday's suicide bomber had shown.

If the MAADS threat level was set to medium then an unarmed man could approach some way toward a tactical robot, and if he was sure of the setting, then this would be a way to get the MAADS team's attention.

If the threat level was set to high then any person was a target and being unarmed wouldn't protect you. The high threat level was intended for special circumstances such as when weapons, MAADS didn't recognize were being used. The loss of the aerial vehicle may well have resulted in the threat level being set to high. Jackson couldn't think of a way of finding out that didn't risk getting him killed.

Jackson thought back over the design meetings he attended so reluctantly, and wished he had paid more attention to the engineering and software design details.

He recalled an exchange with Richard, who wanted to know the Army's criteria for a legitimate target. Jackson explained that while there were rules of engagement that delineated the circumstances under which a force could initiate combat, it always came down to, did the individual soldier on the ground believe someone was a clear or imminent threat. It was called the individual self-defense principle. It allowed a soldier to use all available means, and take all appropriate action, to defend themselves and other personnel. The rules couldn't be defined ahead of time. It was a split-second assessment by an individual soldier.

Richard had turned to him, and said, 'Not only, can we establish rules ahead of time determining who is a target and who is not, we must establish the rules. Robots are capable of independent action only to the extent we program very precise rules into them defining the actions to be taken, and the circumstances in which to take them.'

It had been a lightbulb moment for Jackson. He saw clearly, for the first time, that robots had no freedom of action. They would do precisely what someone, months or years earlier, had decided they should do.

He had spent a lot of time after that day, trying to figure out what the rules should be. It was a much harder problem than he anticipated. Grenades posed particular difficulties. They were hard to recognize, and easy to hide. He had concluded there was no defense against an otherwise unarmed man intent on throwing grenades, unless you allowed killing of unarmed men, and this was a factor in the decision to armor vulnerable points on the robots. Although once someone did throw anything grenade-like, they wouldn't last long, as MAADS would immediately promote them to the target category. Using grenades would be unlikely to disable a tactical robot, and highly likely to get him killed.

Jackson continued working through possible avenues of attack. One design meeting he had attended came to mind where they discussed how the wireless network could be integrated into the MAADS units. He recalled the discussion was about whether the wireless network adapter should be attached to the unit’s main computer or not.

Most people in the meeting seemed to be in favor of attaching it to the computer because that was the way most computers worked. Richard was strongly against the proposal, and he recalled him saying, ‘Don’t couple things, you don’t have to couple.’ Jackson didn’t follow the technicalities of the argument, but he did remember Richard maintained that keeping the network adapter separate made the system more robust. Computer failure would not result in losing the network, and consequently the visual and infrared images.

Jackson thought Richard had won the argument, he usually did, but at the time it didn’t matter. Now it did. If the network went through the computer, then damaging the computer to disable the weapon, would also cut the tactical robot's ability to communicate, and his image wouldn't be transmitted.

The computer would be a bigger and easier target than the only other ways he could think of disabling the weapon. One was to hit one of the two small electric motors that moved the weapon, but he couldn’t recall if they were even visible. Never mind, where they were located. The other was to damage the weapon itself. Inherently risky because he could not be certain he had disabled the weapon, and he would find out he was wrong, the instant it shot him.

Damaging the computer or the motor would produce a visual confirmation, the weapon had been disabled because it would no longer move. If there was any doubt in his mind, then all he had to do was to avoid standing directly in front of the weapon.

He was fortunate, the MAADS system no longer had an aerial vehicle because it would have made everything much harder. The aerial vehicle was not a direct threat because it was unarmed, but it was how MAADS knew where to position its infantry, the tactical robots. MAADS could spot him from the air, and then send the tactical robots against him in a coordinate operation.

He switched on the comms set.

“Pasco can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“I’ve been reviewing my tactics, and this may take longer than I originally thought, perhaps until tomorrow.”

“Roger.”

“Any action down there?

“It's quiet here.”

“Over and out.”

“Good luck, man.”

As he made his way up the valley in the warm spring sunshine, Jackson continued to think through the possible ways he could attack MAADS.

40 mm grenades were a possible way of taking out the control unit, but he had used all his rifle grenades dealing with the RPG shooter. Even if he had the grenades, it risked destroying the data network hub or the satellite communications equipment, which would stop his picture being transmitted. And without an aerial vehicle, the control unit didn't represent the same threat. He mentally crossed the control unit off as a target.

He checked in twice more with Pasco, but the third time he tried, there was no response, and he must have gone out of range. He was on his own now.

An hour and a half later, his GPS told him he was just over a kilometer from the pass. Jackson didn’t trust the accuracy of the map to go any further without preparing. He stopped at a place with good visibility in both directions, took a long drink of the chemical tasting water, and started to take the things he needed from the pack.

The first thing was the survival blanket. He laid it flat on the ground, took out his knife, and cut it into two pieces. He took the smaller piece, and cut two small holes about a third of the way above the line where he had cut the blanket in two. He lifted the piece up to his face to determine if he could see through the holes he had cut. He decided the holes needed to be larger and further apart. He cut around the outer edge of both holes, and again raised it to his face. The view was much better, but he decided to cut the holes larger still. He needed maximum visibility.

Jackson considered whether he should cut a hole for his nose and another for his mouth. The mouth hole he didn’t need. He wouldn’t be doing any eating or drinking. However, a hole for his nose would make breathing easier. He decided to cut a small one. He cut a slit on each side of the piece of cloth, and tried it on for size.

He positioned the material over his head, for a final check of visibility through the eyeholes, before laying the material on the ground. He took out the roll of gaff tape, and cut eight strips. Jackson used four to tape the back and the front flaps together producing something like a hood. He tried it on for size, and decided it was close enough for this stage of the process. He took the material off his head, and commenced the second stage of his homemade thermal poncho.

Jackson took the larger piece of the survival blanket, and cut a hand-sized hole in the center. He then pulled it over his head. He had to pull hard to get his head through the hole, and once it was on, there was no reason to remove it. He checked the material for length. It came down to his knees. On the sides, it reached below his elbows. If anything, it was too long, but further adjustments would just delay him.

Jackson took off his jacket, combat vest, and body armor, and then put the body armor back on with the survival blanket underneath. He pulled the front and back parts of the blanket, such that they overlapped on both sides of his body, and then closed his body armor to keep the improvised thermal poncho in place. He checked it didn’t restrict his arm movements.

He took another long drink of water, put a large piece of dried beef in his mouth, and began to chew on it. It tasted good. He tried not to think about it being his last meal, as he pulled the smaller piece of the survival blanket over his head, and adjusted its position to get maximum visibility through the eyeholes. Jackson wrapped the remaining strips of gaff tape around his neck to hold it in place.

He put his combat vest back on. The jacket he put in Pasco’s pack, before lifting the pack onto his back. Finally, he put Pasco's poncho over the top. He thought the outfit would do enough to hide his infrared image. The pack would help the air circulate between the survival blanket and the poncho. He was already feeling uncomfortably warm. It was time to get this done.
Jackson started back up the trail, and wondered what anyone who saw him would think. He must be a very strange sight.

Again he thought, he was fortunate there was no aerial vehicle, because his outfit would be unlikely to fool it. That was not its purpose. It was intended to fool the tactical robot and control unit’s infrared targeting system.

Ten minutes later, he was sweating copiously under the high insulation survival blanket. His forward visibility was good, but trying to look to the side or overhead just resulted in his head moving, while the hood stayed in place. In order to see to the side, he had to move his whole body, and he had no way of seeing what was overhead, short of lying on his back. He resisted the temptation to confirm there were no strange birds in the sky.

Jackson checked his GPS. If the map was right, the summit of the pass, and the international border, was five hundred meters ahead. The valley was broadening out, and the trail’s incline lessening. He could see well over a hundred meters ahead of him.

It was hot under the hood. He used his left hand to rub some sweat out of his eyes. It helped a little. When he looked up, he saw a momentary reflection from something ahead and to his right. If that was a tactical robot, then the fact he was still alive was conclusive proof his thermal masking outfit worked, at least at this distance.

Jackson took out the small monocular scope he used to perform visual surveys, and slowly raised it to his eye. It didn’t take him long to find the source of the reflection. He could clearly see the top third of a tactical robot eighty meters away. Its cameras and weapon pointed directly at him.

MAADS should have positioned three of its tactical robots on the Iranian side of the pass, and only a single robot would be on this side of the pass. He should be able to maneuver around it. The robot would only move from its current position if the aerial vehicle spotted him. As there was no aerial vehicle, all the robots should stay in their current positions.

Jackson tried to put aside the nagging feeling he was missing some crucial element. The MAADS team could direct the behavior of the MAADS system, and to an extent the individual units, but would only do so in response to an identifiable problem. His thermal suit should make the robots ignore him because he didn't fit their preprogrammed definition of a person. He would be distant and indistinct on the transmitted images, and in all likelihood, the people monitoring MAADS wouldn't even notice him until he got close to a robot.

Jackson started to move to his left, while keeping the robot in view through his scope, but there was too much risk of him stumbling and falling, and he reluctantly turned away from the robot in order to see where he was going. He felt the sweat running down his neck and back.

He kept turning his body around to see if the robot had moved, but each time he looked it was in the same place. As he got further away, the cameras started to perform their normal 360 degree scan, and didn't even pause to look in his direction. He was almost at the maximum range of the search software, and began to feel he had successfully cleared his first hurdle.

The slope got steeper as he got closer to the mountainside. Jackson began to climb up the rock face, and it didn’t take him long to get high enough for the next stage of his plan. He found a place where he could stand without needing to use his hands to keep from falling, and began to search the pass trying to locate the control unit and the other tactical robots. He couldn’t see them, so he started a methodical survey with his monocular.

Fifteen minutes later, he concluded the control unit and the other tactical robots were not in view of his current position. He inspected the robot he had located through his rifle's telescopic sight. It was still in the same position, with its cameras performing their normal 360-degree scan. The bottom half of the robot, where the computer was located, was hidden from view. He could see the part of the rotating assembly where he thought the small electric motors were, but the robot was close to maximum range for the short-barreled M4, and he wasn't confident he was right about the motor's location.

He decided to observe the pass for thirty minutes to see if anything changed. The sun was now well over the mountains on the opposite southern side of the pass and beat down on the rocks around him. Ten minutes later, the sweat running down inside of his thermal suit had soaked the lower half of his body.

Jackson was thirsty and needed a drink. Risking dehydration was not a good idea. It meant he would have to cut a hole in his hood to drink through. He did it reluctantly because it would make his head’s infrared image more like a face. He took out his knife, and cut a small slit. He tilted his head back, and poured water into the slit. Most of the water made it into his mouth.

As Jackson climbed back down the mountainside, He debated whether finding the control unit and the other robots was worth the risk. His training had taught him, time spent in reconnaissance was rarely wasted, and he didn’t want to risk another MAADS unit seeing him, as he maneuvered into position against the robot he planned to attack. He decided to have another attempt at finding them.

When he reached the point where the slope leveled out, he made his way along the base of the mountains, occasionally negotiating rocky outcrops. On the way, he kept a lookout for the other tactical robots, but was sure, if one were on his route, he would have seen it in his earlier survey.
After two hundred and fifty meters, he judged he was at the high point of the pass. Ahead, a waterfall cascaded down the mountainside. Jackson again climbed the rock face. When he was high enough, he found a place to stand, and turned to view the pass.

He saw the control unit immediately, almost directly opposite him, on the far side of the pass. He began to inspect it with his monocular, as the control unit’s cameras stopped to inspect him. While he was probably in range of the infrared targeting software, he knew it would only be activated, after the search software positively identified him as a target.

He commenced a survey of the area he could see. Finding one of the robots forty meters from the control unit surprised him. It was where he would position a tactical robot to protect the control unit. Up until that point, everything had fit what he knew of how MAADS worked, and he was confident he could predict how it would behave. The position of the robot implied some new factor at work.

Twenty minutes later he was sure the other two tactical robots were not in view, which meant they were sufficiently far away to pose no risk to what he planned.

Chapter 55