Twenty-Nine Cozy Bears

34

Washington DC, USA -- CISA building

Despite the millions of dollars in equipment, software and training, the tool used the most in the Intelligence community was inference.

Periodically a newly elected congressman or senator will discover the reliance on educated inference and object to the usage. As well they should. It is called the Intelligence Community, not Family Feud. The object is to gather real information, not to jack up the credibility of what amounts to a pile of guesses and reports about why they should be true. While it is the Go-To tool for making sense of the world's more insane actions, it is also the source of friendly fire, misinformation, and too many tragedies involving civilians to count.

Samantha had not reached the 'report' step of this event report. What she had were scraps of paper with names and ranks. She had several witness testimonies, some shots from the city cameras — one shot depicting a group of five moving toward the library main entrance, holding some very credible looking combat weapons.

"Those rifles look like bullpub configurations. Think those are Tavors?" Doug asked her, as they went through her information, sorting it to prep for her report to Hank Gorr.

"Would make it easier." Samantha suggested as she ordered some of the files on her desktop.

"They sell them everywhere. Could be made to look like an Israeli hit."

"Don't start." Samantha told him. "This is Israeli. They've been rogue and operating in Iran for the last two months, like it is their personal beta-testing environment."

A wet blanket of weariness drooped over Doug, pulling him down, and causing him the need to make an effort of paying attention to Samantha's report. Of course it was Israeli. The US's own terrorist nation. A hate nation who will track down anyone suspected of anti-jewish goals. No proof required. Just good-enough inference.

He came out of a state of deep thought, and felt Samantha staring at him. Turning he ran into her eyes, "What?"

"Where are you? Maybe I'll join you if its someplace interesting."

She studied him when he didn't answer. "Are you alright? Need a sick day? Coffee? Sex?"

"Sex? Here?"

"I see them do it all the time in the pornos. It's no biggie."

"You realize that pornos are like wrestling, right?"

"No, because wrestling is fake."

"Ah, well there is that. What is this song you brought up?"

She grinned wildly, moved some short stacks of notes and came up with a bakery receipt. From the back she read, "Engel, from Rammstein."

"Uh, huh, what about that?" he asked.

"They are a German rock band. Engel is German for Angel."

Doug rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, "Yes, I know the song. How did he use it?"

"As cover, I think. From the witness descriptions, he played the song on the library's PA at full volume. The system is capable of 170 decibels."

"That is the equivalent of an avalanche coming down the mountain. You could die at that volume."

"Well, they were there to kill him."

"And you're sure it was Him in there fighting back?"

She moved another short stack and pulled out a photo of a man dressed in a causal cut suit of light brown linen. He was tall, short brown hair, and a hawk nose. It was him.

"Where is this from?"

"Outside of the library, from last night."

"Damn, it really is him. He's aged. Twelve years in three."

"Music wasn't the only thing -- he also turned all of the Emergency flood lights into strobes. Set them running at random sweep between 10 and 20 hz."

"Causes fear, and diarrhea," he quoted. "The combination must have been hell on earth."