Canberra - Special Operations HQ
Captain Jim Ploughwright strode into his office and slammed the door behind him, “fuckin’ stupid cunts!” He controlled himself enough to stop half the room going through the window, except that it would just have bounced back in at him. He bent over his desk and with hands firmly gripping the finely polished wood, slowed his breathing and stilled the urge to tear that stupid politician apart with his bare hands.
What was the cunt thinking, Jim swore. Stupid fuckin’ idiot hasn’t a clue what's happening here, and now they want to send in a private security company to do my work! He slammed his hand down onto the table hoping it would collapse under the force but it didn’t move. I will not take directives from that cunt Harold Parrish and his fuckin’ Jaeger International bunch of troubadours!
Jim stood up and let out a long slow breath. He wasn’t suited for this job, well, maybe the job but not this shit hole of a glass cabinet they called a building. Gotta get the family and get out west with old Fred. Help him down a few wild dogs. Eat some roo cooked in the coals of a slow fire and breathe some good aussie red dust. Not that arab sand shit, full of thousands of years of dead people from wars that shouldn’t have happened; and now Ive gotta go back there and find a genie with a bunch of mercenaries!
Jim shook his and turned as the knock on the door crashed through his red mist. It opened partway. Sparky poked his head around, “sorry boss can’t even give you ten, we’ve got a trace, and Florians on the blower!” Jim straightened himself and nodded, “righto then!”
The Situation Room was dead silent as Jim and Sparky hurried in. On the main wall display, the extent of the samoom and its pall of dust over the Middle East was unmistakeable. It stretched from the Yemeni coast all the way up to Lebanon. Read outs on the lower right part of the screen showed various frequency intensities for different areas of the storm. Jim looked at Sparky.
“It’s one big low intensity EMP boss! All normal wireless transmissions within it are shit!” Jim nodded. "... and?" "... and whatever or whoever is carrying out these interventions is using dust storms to block surveillance. It's very smart high tech boss!"
Jim nodded as he bit his lip “No other activity, no interventions?” “Nope, nothing now since those last couple in Syria, the two in western Iraq, and that one in Afghanistan.”
“… and Russia?” “Not a skerric. They’re fucked! In recession, the ruble is rubbish and Ukrainian forces have held them at every line since that tank column of theirs was destroyed!”
Jim turned to one of the operators on the other side of the room, “Have we got samples yet?” “Not as yet sir!" Sparky chimed in, "well, we’ve now got a couple of blokes onsite, but no, we won’t hear from them till they have secure communications!” Jim nodded, it was all a blank. They were as blind as if they were in that hell of a samoom!
“What’s this contact then?” “Are yes, it’s from the net, our mate Owain Davies!” Jim frowned, as much at Davies being back in the news, and at Sparky for taking the long way round with the briefing! Sparky was enjoying himself here in the SitCom Room, so Jim let him have his hour in the sun!
“Davies is in Jerusalem," Sparky added grinning madly! "Someone posted this of him at the East Jerusalem Barrier!” Jim nodded at the wall screen and Sparky indicated to one of the techs at a nearby desk screen. A window opened on the top left of the wall screen and up came a remarkably clear image.
“A Dr Samara Rosen posted this on her blog as, ‘Owain Davies, the Orange Man, opens a window on the Barrier!’
“What the f..” and Jim stopped himself. Come on Jim lad get it together in front of this lot!
“I thought he was still in Cardiff with his family.” Another window opened below that one showing who Dr Rosen was. Jim recognised a name. “Get McDonald there, on the line and where is Florian?”
Sparky handed him a headset and Jim paced back and forth at the back of the room while he waited.
“Jim, good, are you watching ze storm?” “Sure thing Flors, it’s all over my wall so the speak!” “Ahm, yah, gudt, zame as with mine, yah,” and Jim noticed the change in Florian’s depth of accent alter along with the increase of stress in his voice.
“Now, if you look at zi readings you notice how coherent ze frequencies are in zertain ahreas.” “Yep, with ya there Flors.” “Now bring up ze analyzis of zi dust storm you went into to get Davies!” Jim turned to Sparky who shifted his headset and gave Jim the thumbs up. Another window opened showing that data. Sparky grinned and swore, “fuckin’ krauts beat me to it!” Jim chuckled to see his mate protest at the best in the world showing off their prowess.
Sparky altered the readout for the samoom and three hot spots appeared as he matched the frequencies from the dust strm to those of the samoom. Jim nodded, "are you seeing that Flors?” “Yah goodt verk, but nicht gudt! Zee vat is under zem!”
Sparky, listening in, brought up the map from underneath. Riyadh, Qatar and Kobane all showed clearly, but so did Jerusalem, though the EM signature was less intense so far!
“I vill alert, whomever ve kan!” Florian added then he was gone and the headset silent.
Sparky waved at Jim indicating his headset again, “McDonald here, whoever this is it'll wanna be important!” “Lawrence, you old bastard, it's Jim Ploughwright!”
“Aw no, not now Ploughwright! Do you know what time of night it is?” “Sure do, and I need you up and at em and secure Owain Davies.” Macca made some yawning grunting noises then some bangs and crashes and swearing. “Shit, sorry Jim, dropped the phone. Ah, well, probably don’t have to, cause with any luck he’s between Samara Rosen’s legs right now. The two of them couldn’t keep their eyes off each other after they met, but I suppose you know that if you know he’s here!”
“Ah no, but righto Macca. I’m activating you, and you need to keep him supervised by our people not the Israeli’s!" “Fuck it Jim, not now, Ive got too much on here! Get one of your mob onto it!" "Sorry Mac, no one handy enough and you know Davies! Most importantly, expect some sort of intervention in Jerusalem during this storm.”
"Shit, that's all we need! Everyone here's scared stiif with Djinn phobia as it is. I've got too much to do. Just get some other bastard to do your dirty work!”
“Sorry Macca, you’re it till I can get someone I trust in there!” "Shit. Ok, but fuck’it Ploughright don’t ever do this to me again!” “Yeah right,” and Jim hung up on another old mate, who would probably never talk to him again, that’s if he lived through the coming storm!