hough it was small, the little handheld drone was paving the way for the huge military drone which could destroy huge buildings like the Hilton or even a tank. Something must be done and quickly.
The private contractors, creators of military might and expertise had drones that could be transported anywhere in the world under the wings of bombers then dropped from high in the sky. Companies of this ilk made billions off the US government creating such deadly arsenals.
The drones would be set on autopilot and with certain co-ordinates in place were completely autonomous. Upon being dropped they would continue on to the place in which they were to operate. Pre-programmed, they would fly a twenty mile circular pattern, constantly sending video of the entire area back to dispatch until the live human monitor took control.
They were slow, but steady and consistent. Because they were small they could gather enough solar power to keep themselves aloft indefinitely.
The camera systems on these monitors were absolutely the tops but were still a far cry from the military grade satellite cameras used to surveil from space. Many times it has been reported they could get the date off a dime in the Sahara desert. And now, since the beginning of Desert Storm, every inch of the world was being mapped and recorded.
The US could go back with computers and use them to find changes of any spot in the world. In other words, there was no escaping the prying eyes of Uncle Sam. It did not matter where you were, what time of the day it was, but, it did matter somewhat about cloud cover. One thing for certain: it sure brings to bear the scripture that says "there is no place to run that they cannot find you . . ."
William and the General were in deep confab with some of the men in the ready room. It was time to do a little snooping on their own. The information extracted by Lena was vital information with which to launch their counter attack in the right direction.
After about nine hours of planning, they finally began the part of timing the individual operations. It could not have been done better by the highest and brightest minds of the Pentagon. William was sitting at dinner with Sharon, Sung Wu, the General and Ginger as she was debriefed on the details of her mission. There was no doubt that Harrington had 'acquired' the C130 from Mena. No telling how . . .
There was also no doubt that landing there with it set up a whole new faction striving for information as to their identities, what they were doing, their strengths, their weaknesses. One cannot even dream about overpowering an entity of this magnitude without info.
William had a deep thought about there being a connection to the Clintons, since they operated their debauchery to the Sandinistas, swapping arms for cocaine mostly from the little airport in Mena, AR. while he was governor there.
Cocaine was flown into Mena, AR by the plane loads. Many had died (by natural causes of course), when they learned too much or lost the confidence of the Clintons. There is no telling how many billions were brought in, and guns flown out.
All handled by the Rose Law Firm, of which Mrs. Clinton was not only one of the lawyers, she was a partner. How she could infiltrate the oldest company in AR and worm her way to the top so quickly was not readily comprehended. (Watch the 'Clinton Chronicles' for yourself . . .)
And now, she was doing the same thing to the Presidency and she wasn't even president yet! There is no telling how much harm has come to America from the hands of the Clintons. And it could be some of these ill-feelings caused by inappropriate, heck, theft is more like it, any way, the acquiring of the plane, then it flying right back into the very facility from which it was stolen . . . that's heavy.
But Ginger and Amy had no way of knowing all of this. But after this ordeal was put to bed, they would!
At lunch that same day, Sharon broached a subject which had been on her mind for some time. "William, I want to bring something to the front on which I've been working since the moving of the Old Patriots to the Bunker. I hope you'll listen to me while I lay it out for you, and then please don't make a snap decision. Let me finish before you comment; think on it for a couple of days, then, I'll show you my work."
"OK" William responded. But already, he wasn't liking the direction in which this was going. "When do you want to speak to me about this?"
"When we get back to the ready room" she responded.
"No, not there. I've been aiming to take a little drive on the donkey engine into the mines to see it for myself. We can discuss it there."
"OK" Sharon said. "When?"
William stood up and pushed in his chair then helped Sharon out with hers, pushing it in as well. He grabbed both trays and dumped them while Sharon cleaned their table, rearranging the condiments in correct order, checked the chairs to confirm they were clean, then cleaned both trays. In a couple of minutes, she had washed the dishes, dried and replaced them back on the clean stack.
This was a standing rule of the compound. You cleaned up after yourself. Caught one time failing to do this meant KP for a month. Sharon caught herself smiling at the incident in which KP was institued at The Bunker. Not knowing what it actually mean, she looked it up on Wikipedia.
What stuck her as humorous, was that everybody with the exception of a certain level of heirarchy all took turns at KP. But, to be punished with an extra month . . . now that was nigh on to dreadful!
William went to the ready room and wrote on the "Away" board his intentions, length of stay, where he would be. It was part of the keeping in the know about anyone. They could be reached readily if an emergency came up. Lord knows the Bunker had experienced plenty of those! He then retrieved a couple of tracker bugs and placed one on himself and on Sharon as well then recorded the numbers.
William and Sharon stepped out of the ready room, walking down the hall arm in arm. Sharon was nigh on to sixty three and was still a gorgous lady. She had been the only woman William had ever felt attracted to. Sure, he had dated, but, those were merely times with which to spend an evening in the company of someone of female gender. When Sharon came along, he had instantly fallen head over heels in love with her.
They had been through a lot together since their meeting, and, with a little luck, they'd be going through a whole bunch more. They stepped through the door into the hall in which the donkies were kept. These were merely little electric carts which would carry them through the tunnels on tracks. It was also a place of privacy in which a person could get a couple of smooches alone.
They had been down the little tunnels many times in their tenure at the Bunker but there were still many places they'd not personally seen. Namely, the tunnels which seemed to lead to nowhere. The thoughts of each were in wonderment at the amount of work needed to build something of this magnitude. It no doubt took millions and many men over a period of time. But the halls were the human dug channels in the process of mining in pursuit of whatever mineral they sought; in this case, salt.
These particular halls extending between the Hilton and the Bunker were all lined with concrete and in the upper corners ran several types of supporting gear; communications, electricity, oxygen, sensory equipment for the sniffing out of foreign materials, tracker bug sensors . . .
William never ceased to be amazed at his good fortune in life, and especially, these last few years. Many people were out in the weather in a constant fight for survival, and many were not surviving. He and Sharon as well as some odd three hundred men and women, and some families as well, were within the compound and pretty much safe from harm. There were three other bunker systems which they operated, and they all were even more elaborate than this one.
He hoped they'd be able to snatch away from the Clintons two more facilities. There is absolutely no telling what they will find in them. At the moment, at least they could house their groups quite comfortably and operate 'under the radar,' safe at least from the biggest part of spying eyes. They never thought for a moment that they were unknown by the government. That's the reason they were always on alert.
"OK, lovely lady. Splain this here hoppin' idea of yours. I'll mention it to some of the other men and we'll cast it about and see if it's something we want to do" William said jovially.
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