Robert Smith

The Planner

Chapter One: Initiation

Planner’s wife urged her daughter into her husband’s shiny new SUV. They were running late for the daughter’s best-friend-forever’s twelfth birthday party. They had only decided earlier that afternoon to buy a new dress and it needed some extra tailoring.

Their driveway was illuminated only from the house window, since the outside light had failed the day before and Planner had not had time to replace it. There was no moon and even starlight was hidden by a blanket of November cloud. Their luxury house, set in park-like woods upon a small hill in Maryland, featured floor to roof windows in the center section. Planner’s wife had left the lights on in their hallway allowing enough light for the trip to the car in the drive.

She did not approve of the SUV, preferring something that was more ecologically friendly but her husband wanted a Ford Explorer in black and he usually got whatever he wanted. Her own car was in the garage but while Planner was away on one of his many business trips, Planner’s wife kept the car outside. She felt it was too big to fit into their garage. She had to admit it was a nice car to drive, good driving position, lots of power. It felt safe to drive.

Through the automatic gate, she drove with her daughter chattering away about the party, for about a mile to the edge of the hill. There the road descended sharply through a series of hairpin bends to the valley floor.

After the first hairpin bend, as they descended down the hill, there was sharp rasping sound and the steering wheel whipped dramatically clockwise out of her hands. She had no time to even grasp the wheel before the SUV plunged through the crash barrier that failed in its role of keeping the vehicle on the road. The daughter wailed, “Mom!”

The SUV plunged down the slope about twenty feet before crashing into tree stumps with a metal-crunching thud. Airbags burst forth, knocking the daughter out, but preventing any serious injury to them both. Beyond the sound of the engine racing, there was the hiss of steam and creaking of metal and Planner’s wife wailing in pain.

Then there was the smell of burning. It took several minutes for the flames to surround the car. Planner’s wife tried to reach out to her daughter. She was unable to exit the car. Her legs were pinned, stuck at 20 degrees away from vertical. She may have had a couple of minutes of despair and pain before her inevitable death when the fuel tank exploded.

* * * *

At the cemetery, Planner stood in the rain flanked by his younger brother and sister-in-law as a large and a small coffin were lowered side by side into a deep hole. Planner’s face framed by a hood, looked emotionless while the priest channelled his grief. On the opposite side of the hole, Planer’s wife and daughter’s friends and family, a large crowd, were in tears. Those that were not in despair glowered towards Planner, as-if he was somehow to blame. They probably had a right to be suspicious. He did not mix much with his wife’s friends. His work was something that was not suitable for polite conversation. His cover story was that he worked in the aerospace industry but whenever that generated interest from amateur enthusiasts, the topic of conversation was changed. Planner did not mingle too much with real people.

* * * *

Planner was also wearing a hood as he was being anointed as high chamber Mason. He was kneeling in a chamber lit only with candles and moonlight streaming from a huge gothic-style window to the south side of the building. There were eleven men inside the room, and the room still seemed empty. All the men were wearing brown robes but only Planner and Lodge Master were bare footed and bare legged. The Lodge Master continued his interrogation of Planner.

“Name the Five Points of Fellowship,” he asked.

“Hand to Hand, Foot to Foot, Knee to Knee, Breast to Breast, and Hand over Back”, Planner replied.

“Explain them.”

“Hand to hand, I greet you as a Brother. Foot to foot, I will support you in all your laudable undertakings. Knee to knee, the posture of my daily supplications shall remind me of your wants. Breast to breast, your secrets, when entrusted to me, I will keep as my own. And Hand over back, I will speak of your character in your absence as I do when you are present.”

“Explain them fully.”

“Hand to hand, when the necessities of a Brother call for aid, we should not hesitate in stretching forth the hand, to render the assistance, knowing him to be worthy. Foot to foot, tiredness should not cause our feet to halt, forgetting every selfish consideration, and remembering that man was not born for his own enjoyment alone, but for the assistance of his fellows, we should be swift of foot to help, aid, and execute benevolence to a Brother Mason. Knee to knee when we offer up our ejaculations to the Most High a Brother’s welfare we should remember as our own, for as the voice of children are heard at the throne of grace, so most certainly will the breathings of a fervent heart reach the dominions of bliss. Breast to breast, a Brother’s lawful secrets, when entrusted to us as such, we should keep as our own; for to betray the trust which one Brother reposes in another, might be to do him the greatest injury he could possibly receive. It would be like the darkest villainy of the assassin to do such. Hand over back, a Brother’s character should be supported in his absence or presence; we should not revile him ourselves, or knowingly suffer it to be done by others. Thus, by the Five Points of Fellowship, Brethren are united in fraternal affection, which will distinguish us from those who are strangers to our Masonic Order and that the word Brother, among us, is something more than a name.”

The Lodge Master nodded. And the other lodge members chanted, “Hand to Hand, Foot to Foot, Knee to Knee, Breast to Breast, and Hand over Back.”

After three verses, the Lodge Master held up his hand and the chanting stopped. “Please come with me to the inner chamber and become enrolled to the High Order.”

Planner stood and taking the Lodge Master’s hand, was led into a separate chamber. The other 11 men were silently watching until the door closed with a thud. They then let out a collective breath and started chatting, clicking on their cell phones and removing their itchy hoods.

* * * *

The Inner Chamber was a misshapen, high ceilinged room with strangely angled walls, densely packed with books and pictures. The Lodge Master signed his large signature on two parchments. The wobbly signature and blotched hands revealed his age, since his cosmetically altered tanned face and black hair, could not. He pushed the parchment over to Planner standing on the other side of the Tudor Rose antique desk. Once Planner had signed and returned the papers, the Lodge Master rolled one of the parchments, wrapped a ribbon around it and sealed it with drops of wax from a candle and imprinted the wax with a stamp. The stamp had a motif with an interlocking quill and dagger. He handed over the sealed roll to Planner.

“Congratulations on reaching the High Order,” purred the Lodge Master.

“Thank you, Most Worshipful Master. It’s a great honour… I feel somewhat undeserving considering my recent circumstances.” Planner gingerly took the roll while averting his eyes.

The Lodge Master continued, “Yes. Everyone in the lodge is so sorry for your loss… We were all very concerned for you… that it would affect your contribution. But we have been gratified by your commitment to our cause. Our greater cause, not only our Masonic duties.”

Planner looked up at the Lodge Master and tried to smile.

“How long has it been, now?” said the Old Man recognising his grief.

“Six months now.”

The Lodge Master rose from the desk chair and stood facing the window out into the moonlit night. “Tragic. Tragic. Your wife was from such a good family, such a caring and intelligent lady. And your daughter too. So, so sad. Nobody should have to endure such loss. And we all feel it in the Lodge; your loss is our loss. I must say, though, you have controlled your grief well. I think that shows your deep strength of character.”

“Thank you, Sir”, replied Planner, barely able to communicate on the subject.

The Lodge Master turned slowly to face Planner. “Generally we don’t like to pressure our brothers; Especially in such circumstances; But we need your skills. Not just your technical skills in radar and aircraft, but also coordination skills. And the vision for our cause. Indeed, the Lodge Council all agree that you are ready for the Inner Circle, I think, by the end of year. You’ll be the youngest member of the Inner Circle in our history.”

Planner was in his mid-forties, had never been the youngest anywhere, he stammered, “That is a huge honour. I am… not worthy…” Immediately biting his lip for the crass comment.

The Lodge Master replied quickly, offering a friendly arm to Planner’s shoulder even before Planner had uttered his words, “Now, now. We are as one. Until death. Your success is my success”.

And Planner repeated as if it was a mantra, “And your success is my success”.

“…And you will be a success. We have a task for you, as you know. The Big Event!” The Lodge Master chortled. “Sometimes referred to as BE2 within polite company. Hardly an original code name, but reasonably apt all things considered. This has already been discussed with the Agency, I think you ought to know, we’re moving you up to a coordination role. For this you’ll be reporting directly to me. Your existing management team will only handle administration. Don’t worry, they’ve been informed.”

Planner raised a single eyebrow.

The Lodge Master continued. “You may have suspected as much, but you’ll discover that this Big Event is special. A lot hangs on it. You will need nerves of steel to see it through. There will be considerable unpleasantness…”

“I’ve been involved in some pretty bleak activities in the past”, Planner replied in monotone.

“Air crashes, yes. All for the greater good; as you are no doubt aware,” he smiled paternally.

Planner was silent.

The Lodge Master turned to a painting, the ruins of the Tower of Babel, and released a catch on the frame. The picture swung outwards to reveal a wall safe with a combination dial. The Lodge Master spun the dial with seeming inattention and continued, “But this is our lot, to safeguard our future we must secure that future, with no expectation of public recognition of our personal effort. And we are expecting something extraordinary from you. To deliver the event will be the dividing line between the twentieth century and the twenty-first. It will be a catalysing event to bring in the New American Century”.

Planner nodded uncertainly.

“You start tomorrow,” stated the Lodge Master returning to his desk chair. “The details are in this pack. The pass phrase is Operation Rainbow. They will be expecting you.”

While watching the Lodge Master unwrap a package he had removed from the safe, Planner asked, “My terms of reference?”

“Managing Rainbow and all the coordination for the other seven Big Event operations. Rainbow is the most technically difficult… but there are many important sideshows that need to be kept on track.”

“How many staff? Budget?”

“The Rainbow Team has just been expanded to thirty. Most will need to be indoctrinated and tasked. The technical preparations have been subcontracted. You just need to handle… er… the storyline. You need not worry about budgets, but if you could reduce costs it would keep the auditors off my back,” the Lodge Master winked. “Here is some light reading.”

The Lodge Master had separated a slim folder from other papers in the package. On the front cover is a black and white picture of a city landscape with a sniper sight motif overlaid.

* * * *

Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. Planner leaned over and clicked off the alarm clock. 7am, still dark outside. Planner woke up alone in his king’s size double bed with finest Egyptian cotton sheets. He looks at a picture of his wife and young daughter and tried to remember good times past.

After his shower, coffee and selecting the right suit (dark blue), Planner was ready to go. He drove the long way to Langley in order to avoid the hill where the accident occurred.

At the gates of the CIA headquarters, his black Buick LeSabre is flagged down by a guard. Planner shows his identity pass.

“Using a hire car, Sir?” asked the guard politely.

“For the time being. My new car will be arriving this week”, Planner replied without enthusiasm.

“Make sure you fill out the vehicle register form, Sir”, the guard added helpfully.

“It’s on my To-Do list”, Planner replied without humour.

Within the leafy campus, the CIA Headquarters stood like a white monolith, seven stories tall and clad gleaming limestone. Planner drove around the building to a car park at the rear. Overlooking the car loomed a 100 foot long, black, bat-like aircraft mounted on a single pylon; an A-12 Blackbird developed by the CIA in total secrecy in the early 1960s to fly reconnaissance missions. Planner looked at it with a wry smile; he always admired the aggressive lines of this iconic aircraft.

Most staff and visitors to the CIA Headquarters walk pass the CIA Memorial Wall^1 which honors CIA employees who died in the line of duty. There were over 70 stars carved into the marble wall, each one representing a CIA officer. Above them, in gold block letters, read the inscription: “In Honor Of Those Members Of The Central Intelligence Agency Who Gave Their Lives In The Service Of Their Country.” Below the stars, the black “Book of Honor” lay encased in an inch-thick plate of glass detailing their deeds. Although even in death, their names are still secret, most officers are not named in the Book of Honor. However, the message was clear, from the aircraft to Memorial Wall, the CIA was still at war while the rest of country seemed at peace.

Despite the long walk from the car park, Planner arrived inside the office at the appointed grid-referenced office exactly on time. The only signs on the door were “G-2-93” and “No Photography. No Cell Phones”. Planner swiped his access card to receive a green light and happy-bleep.

Once through the door, Planner was confronted with a largely empty open plan office, easily capable of holding a hundred people, with good views over the office campus. Most desks were empty, and few people were around. There were small, enclosed meeting rooms either side of the main office area. On the far side, a small bunch of people were huddled around a portable whiteboard in animated discussion.

A slim, middle-aged man with thick, black, swept-back hair and gray suit was sitting at the desk closest to the door. He looked up Planner and beamed a smile.

“Operation Rainbow?” asked Planner.

The man rose from the desk and greeted Planner warmly. “You’re in the right place. You’re the planner, I presume? I’m Bates. I’m the P.A.”

“I didn’t think we used names, well, surnames”, said Planner shaking hands.

“We don’t as such”, Bates replied heartily. “I didn’t want to be called P.A. Don’t worry; the name, Bates, is just a private joke. Just consider it a new, imaginary color. When I introduce you around you’ll find we all have new handles of various er… shades.”

“That’s great”, Planner said, feeling at ease immediately with his garrulous new colleague. “I hope I don’t get the colours mixed up.”

“No, that would make a bit of a mess.”

“So what part of the operation do we have here?” Planner asked, looking around.

Bates led Planner around the office. “Operation Rainbow is divided into stages A, B and C. A is before the event, B is the event and C is the after-event clear Up. We have all Stage A and C teams here at the moment before we split them up. We’re flying out tomorrow night to see the Stage B team. But note there are parallel teams working on various sideshows. But we have the tricky bits. You probably know about that already.”

“I know about the Seven Operations.”

“Eight Operations if you include Rainbow.”

“Right. So do we have contact points for them all?”

Bates led Planner to a white board with a seven-side logo. “I have the contact points. There are, at least seven other operations. Let me point them out: Nicholas, Las Vegas, Carrot, Hollywood, Eagle, GI-Joe and, er, of course, Snow White”. Bates pointed to various logos in turn. Only the pictures of Snow White, Carrot and Eagle were immediately obvious. Bates observed, “They haven’t spent too much time on the naming of these ops. Rainbow is in the center, of course.” The Rainbow logo appeared more like a multi-coloured jewel than a rainbow and Planner had not noticed it until it was pointed out.

“So not Snow White and the seven dwarfs?” Planner suggested in an attempt at humour.

Bates made a sarcastic sigh. “No, probably copyright problems with Disney.”

Planner smiled. “I’ve been giving briefs on all the operations but not Snow White. It just has a blank page!”

“Verbal briefing only on that one”, said Bates. “Actually, Snow White is probably the smallest of them all. Only worth a few billion.”

“Billion?”

“Billion!” Bates confirmed firmly but then backtracked. “Hey I’ve said too much. Officially, I don’t know that. Officially, and in most cases, in actuality, I know nothing about the other operations. What I do know is that all operations have an A, B, C stage. All of them. We are talking about a very big, Big Event. So do you know enough to brief the newbies? We have ten new starters today.”

* * * *

Planner was standing at a podium in a darkened meeting room about to talk to a set of powerpoint slides projected onto a screen behind him. His audience, the CIA Rainbow Team, was about 20 people. Some of the Rainbow Team wore military uniforms, some suits but the most just in smart casual dress, but all of them had a large label with a colored square and the color name underneath.

Planner introduced himself, as “Planner” and gave a brief background concerning his involvement in the aviation industry before being “head-hunted” for operations for the CIA several, unspecified, years previously.

When Planner felt he had the audience’s attention, he leaned on the podium with both arms as though he was settling in for a fire-side chat.

“I’m guessing most of you don’t need any context for the work we do. You trust in our leaders and you go out and do whatever is necessary. That is how it should be but I just want to say a few words of the predicament that we are in at the moment. The big picture, so to speak. You might not appreciate this yet, but we’re in danger. The USA is in danger. Something that you probably know in the back of your minds but put to one side most of the time. Our economy, our whole way of life of life is run on one commodity: Oil; Agriculture, Industry, Transport, our military. 99.9 % of it is all run on oil: fuel, plastics, chemicals… And the problem we face today is that we have reached Peak Oil Production. From this day, or maybe this year, next year. From here on in, we will have increasing demand and not enough supply. After Peak Oil, production is expected to drop in the order of 10 % per year. Needless to say this will be impacting our way of life in the USA in way that the economists can’t imagine. What we do know is that it is going to be hard. So what we need to do is protect the country and provide a soft landing for the economy. We need to change. And we’re the people to help make that change happen; a catalysing event. Maybe more than one. Our psychologists tell us we need to shock the public into making change. They won’t be able to do that themselves. That will be our job; to shock the American people.”

The audience was very quiet. Planner needed to feel the audience reception as he went along. He was ready to adapt if the team were not receptive, so unlike most of his presentations, he did not show an agenda. His first slide showed, incongruously, a map of the Gulf of Mexico with a flight plan overlaid.

Planner straightened up and pointed to the slide with his laser pointer. “This was a plan created in 1962 called Operation Northwoods, you may already know about it. It was designed to provide the shock, political climate, to allow the United States to intervene in Cuba; Solve the Soviet Dilemma; Prevent World War 3. You know all those good little things we do.”

Planner received the minor chuckles from the audience that he desired. He continued outlining the flight plan with his red laser light beam. “The plan was to have a remote controlled airliner, supposedly full of American students, blown up over the Caribbean in full view of the world’s media. Radio transmissions supposedly from the airliner would announce the airliner was attacked by Cuban Mig fighters. The wreckage and bodies would be lost at sea. Deception was verified and validated by using a real airliner for take off, all recorded on newsreel, but then switched in mid-air with the pilotless drone. Radar transponders were switched synchronously to fool radar operators. We’d have credible experts, with no association to the agency, endorsing the cover story… This would be the psychological jolt on society required by the politicians to go to war against Cuba. You’ve probably seen many similar type of plans but you could say this is our model for Operation Rainbow: real people enter the plane but the plane that crashes is empty. So the… er… yes?” A team member had raised his hand. Planner could see the hand but not who it was.

The team member, labelled “Indigo”, was in his mid-thirties and probably the scruffiest person in the room, unkempt hair and wearing a dark, three-day-beard. His voice was uncertain. “But this plan was not used. So why? I mean… was there any specific reason? I think what I’m trying to say is… it seems unnecessary to make the mid-air switch.”

Planner struggled with an adequate answer but his response sounded confident, “The mid-air switch being unnecessary… not so, it is a slight of hand trick. A reality needs to be created, without our direct story-telling if possible, in order for it to be believed. This is required for any PsyOp^2. I shouldn’t have to explain that. In terms of Northwoods’ rejection; yes, you’re right. Kennedy did reject the plan. Politicians always worry about blowback, as should we. If I had to go for a single reason for the plan’s rejection, then I’d say, it was the passengers; the credibility of their back-story. They’d planned for fake funerals but there was no feasible plan of generating all the grieving parents and identities of these students back then that could stand up to scrutiny. Certainly not in the time they’d allowed themselves.”

Bates sitting near the front on the sidelines chipped in, “Of course that’s one of the roles Operation Rainbow, generating those identities. And we have many volunteers, joining the Witness Protection Programme^3, creating seemingly real casualties, so we can create solid back-stories and legends nowadays.”

Planner joked. “And with most news editors and TV channels being part of the firm nowadays, being recruited from WITSEC, any investigative journalists or the free press won’t worry us as much anymore.”

There was general laughter from the audience. They were all aware of Operation Mockingbird^4 that established a CIA presence in all US mass media organisations.

Indigo hesitantly raised his hand again and after a nod from Planner, uttered. “Going back to the radar picture, wouldn’t radar operators see the aircraft and drone come together and separate?”

“That’s a very good point, er… Indigo, right,” Planner replied, admiring his persistence in his challenge to the plan. “We intend to do the switch in an area of poor radar coverage. Particularly after we close down the main ARSR over the operational area.”

“ARSR-what?” someone called out.

Planner smiled, “Air Route Surveillance Radar”. And added, “And in any case, air traffic controllers only really use the transponder codes and not any raw radar.”

Indigo rubbed his chin considering the implications.

Planner resumed his scripted words, clicking onto a set of bullet points on a new powerpoint slide. “So this is our job: Operation Northwoods updated for the 21st Century: Fly a drone. Convince the FAA it is an airliner. Have it hijacked. Cause a commotion. Have it blow up somewhere over the United States. The most likely scenario is crashing the plane into a building.

A slightly built, Mediterranean-looking woman, caught Planner’s eye. Once eye-contact was locked-on, she released her missile of a question, “What’s the target?” she said.

Planner looked uncomfortable, “The target is confidential at the moment”, he said. “But we will be giving telephone warnings ahead of time to allow evacuation and reduce needless casualties. We’re interested in televising the event and minimising collateral damage.”

The woman, code-named Turquoise, nodded and appeared satisfied.

“Yes,” Planner clarified. “This is a domestic operation, no trips down to South America for this one. So it can be blamed on Iraq or Iran or whatever our Commander in Chief has in mind. That’s our Mission Impossible. Sorry, it’s not pretty.”

“So there are we planning an invasion of a particular country? Do we have to find specific nationals and nationalities?” called a female voice from the back.

“That has not been described to me. I understand we have been receiving cooperation from certain Middle Eastern countries in providing operatives. Particular nationalities are not essential to the plan.”

Planner could feel many members of the audience relax and he felt he could then breathe easily from then onwards. “Now, I know you have all been selected for this job because of your previous experience, trustworthiness and loyalty. But this is a domestic job and some civilians may, actually almost certainly, will, get hurt or killed. Obviously, no-one wants that but, you all know about the secret wars we fight for our country. I know you’ve all done foreign missions but this is different and I understand that. If there’s anybody that wants to get out now then that is fine. We can arrange a suitable exit. Subject to the usual non-disclosure terms, of course…” Planner let this sink in before concluding melodramatically. “Because once you’re in, you’re in for keeps. I guess you know that. Anyone?”

Silence. Planner expected nothing less. “I take it then, you are all in. If you’re not, come and see me later. Seriously.” Planner looked directly at Indigo’s gaze, who then immediately looked down.

Planner then clicked the computer mouse to select the next powerpoint slide and with authority announced, “Now this action is authorised by the Contingency of Government^5 Select Committee. It is controlled via the Joint Special Operations Committee and the CIA’s Special Activities Division. It is classified Top-Secret-Code-Word-Strap-3 Team-Eyes-Only. This means there is no communication outside this office about this project. All non-routine external communication is through me. Even to the White House. Understood?”

There was a murmur from audience. They understood.

Planner then switched off the slide projector and Bates adjusted the blinds to bring back daylight into the room.

Planner’s tone change to a more conversational style, “You’ll be glad to hear that there are two significance bonus payments for the team. On the day of the event and six months after the event. Tax-free, of course!”

The audience murmured approval.

“Incidentally”, Planner said, “don’t put this bonus all into your bank account or your credit card, unless you like talking to the IRS. Ok. That is all.”

The audience started chatting amongst themselves immediately. Planner and Bates exited the room quickly, brushing past a document on the edge of the table, which then fell onto the floor. The document was the original plan for Operation Northwoods.6

* * * *

Planner and Bates walked quickly down the corridor.

“That went well”, observed Bates.

“We managed to make the outrageous seem normal”, observed Planner sardonically. “Although I guess nothing is normal for these field operative guys.”

“Welcome to Spook Central,” joked Bates. “They all have families… so go figure.”

“So who are we seeing tomorrow?” asked Planner.

“Nicholas”, Bates replied. “Well, he’s now called Nicholas, Colonel Nicholas. He used to run Rainbow but after minor health concerns, he’s reigned back a bit. He designed the Nicholas operation and is now running it. Then tomorrow night we’re flying off to California to visit the other part of the Rainbow Team.”

“The Stage B Team?”

“Right.”

Chapter Two: Nicholas

The following morning, Bates and Planner were standing at an unremarkable door and gave it a knock. Nothing on the outside gave a clue as to what was behind the door.

“What was Nicholas’ minor health concern?” asked Planner.

“A heart attack?” said Bates.

“That’s minor?” said Planner incredulous.

“A minor one,” nodded Bates.

Colonel Nicholas opened the door and let them in. Nicholas was in his late fifties, clean-shaven, slim, bald and tall and dressed in a light gray suit. He certainly seemed fit for his age. He welcomed Bates and Planner into a busy office similar in size to Rainbow’s, and then into a further smaller, private inner office. On the wall was a large, military-style logo with a cartoon jet fighter in the middle of a cage with metal bars.

Nicholas explained, “Our job is to keep the air force at bay. Hence the cage”, He pointed to the logo. “Nicholas Cage. Sorry, all the code names are sort of stupid like that.”

“Right”, said Planner.

Nicholas continued, “Needless to say, it’s the air force’s job to intercept enemy aircraft, straying airliners and, dare I say, hijacked aircraft too.”

“And I guess they are good at that,” observed Planner.

Nicholas sat back in his chair, fingers pressed together. “The best air defence money can buy. Best radar, best aircraft, best computers.”

“Lots of money, sure, but how good is it, really?” asked Bates sceptically.

“On civil aircraft? The USAF intercept about 100 times a year?7” he replied coolly.

“How about for uncivil aircraft?” asked Planner.

Nicholas stood up and paced, after a few hums, he said, “For the past forty years, we have had biennium trials of our radar defences. The game was played out with real aircraft with the Brits acting as the Red Team. The Royal Air Force flew their stealthiest aircraft, three of them, Vulcan bombers, with the objective to nuke New York. We won if we could just spot their bombers. They won if one of their bombers got to twenty miles of New York. This is public record”.

Nicholas bent down and took a book from a bookshelf and dropped it in front of Bates and Planner. The book was “Vulcan 607” by Roland White. It was about the Falklands War raid undertaken by the RAF using the old British, Flying Wing, V Bomber, the Vulcan. Planner assumed that the book corroborated Nicholas’s assertion concerning these war games.

Bates murmured, “I’m thinking that I’m not going to like this.”

“Well, you’d be right”, Nicholas stated. “All three of their aircraft sailed through for the first ten years of these games. And they still technically won for next ten years. In theory, the Brits could have nuked New York. But since 1980, we’ve had a 100 % interception success rate.”

“So the USAF can protect New York?” mused Planner. “I presume you know about our target?”

“I do know, although no-one else in Operation Nicholas knows. Not officially,” stated Nicholas tightly.

“Officially I can tell you and your team,” said Planner. “It’s the World Trade Center.”

“Yes,” said Nicholas without emotion.

“On similar problems,” said Bates helpfully, “to cause a delay in a command-based hierarchy such as the USAF, the method, I’ve seen, is to chop-off-the-head^8, paralyse the HQ and delay.”

“Yes,” said Nicholas in an overly drawn out manner. “What about three air commands: USAF, Navy and National Guard. And a lot of worthy hero-wannabes capable of independent action?” Nicholas asked rhetorically.

“So this is a bit of a show stopper?” Planner observed coolly. “How are we going to deflect the air defences? I know about switching off the Massachusetts J53 radar.9”

Nicholas smiled, “Ah yes, that’s just a minor part. We have three phases of the operation: Nicholas A, Nicholas B, Nicholas C…”

Bates turned to give Planner a knowingly look and wry smile.

The Colonel went to a white board that has a rough map of USA. “Naturally”, he started, “most aircraft will be deployed on training exercises.” He drew arrows from north-east USA to Alaska, New Mexico and Caribbean.

Planner interrupted, “Won’t that be kind of obvious?”

Nicholas added two more arrows, “Five separate training exercises. Most of which have been annual events for years. We’ll just be going-large this year^10“.

“Uh. Ok. So how many actual interceptors will there be left?” asked Planner, cutting to crux of the issue.

Nicholas draws five little triangles to represent aircraft. “Flyable aircraft?” Nicholas said. “Five or six!11 We’ll have each USAF, National Air Guard and US Navy aircraft pinpointed and pinned down. We’ll view the rota carefully. Each pilot and controller will be identified, each having an off-day with either senna pod or a celebration the night before… Their flight plans will have them flying in the wrong directions. The executive will be split and all orders have to be authorised by them, or rather, by the COG, and the COG Team will be unavailable, of course.”

The Colonel paused as he recalled the details from memory. “For Nicholas A: We’re changing all the intercept procedures. Emergency roll out: all sorted before the summer. The hardest job has been the computer software changes. A rush-job… but it has still taken a year to complete! We started by looking at the problem from the civilian side, the FAA air traffic controllers. By removing the raw radar picture from the FAA computer systems, they will only ever see the aircraft’s squawk code from transponders”. The Colonel cleaned an area of the map and drew a dot with four digits underneath to represent the transponder code.

“And we control those transponder codes?” Planner asked.

“Yes,” said the Colonel, “allowing the FAA only to see what we want them to see. And all this is just-in-case someone in the command chain attempts to by-pass the new procedures.”

“But the military will still be able to track aircraft down without transponders,” observed Planner.

The Colonel speckled the board with extra dots. “But not if we introduce extra radar blips via FAA’s link to NORAD. And before you ask, yes, we do have a subcontractor in place to add those tracks.12^13”

Planner glanced over to Bates, before asking Nicholas, “Ok. But how do we track our aircraft?”

Nicholas replied, “We have an entirely separate radar picture delivered via AWACS. Processed at Top Secret^14, NORAD and FAA won’t be able to see what is really going on. Just us.” Nicholas drew a crude picture of an AWACS aircraft in red and circles certain dots in red and continued, “So that’s Nicolas Phase B. Our simulations indicate that there will be no fighter intercepts for around 90 minutes.”

“Hmm, that’s a good constraint on the event,” Planner mused. “The politicians wouldn’t want to be out of control any longer than that.”

Bates chipped in, “And Nicholas Phase C? What’s the tidy up phase looking like?”

Nicholas laughed. “I had a few plans in my head about Phase C but I think that will be the easy part,” he said. “The military will act all incompetent and then argue for money for an upgrade to their radars. I’m sure there’s a few migrating birds that we can’t track at the moment.”

“And Santa Claus^15 can be pretty tricky”, added Bates.

Nicholas laughed, “That’s right!”

Planner and Bates spent the rest of the afternoon talking over details of Operation Nicholas with the Colonel. When the meeting broke up Planner asked Nicholas, “So I’m sort of taking over from you on Rainbow. Do you have any advice for me?”

“KISS!” replied Nicholas.

“Kiss?” smiled Bates.

“Keep It Simple, Stupid,” Nicholas explained.

“So that’s what you’ve done?” smiled Planner.

“Not exactly,” Nicholas winked back.

* * * *

Planner was packing up, ready to leave the office when he heard a deliberate cough behind him. Planner turned to see Indigo, his curly hair looking ruffled, wearing an uncertain smile. “I was just wondering whether I can have a quick word,” muttered Indigo uncertainly.

“Sure. Sit down. Actually let’s go into this room,” said Planner pointing to a side office.

“So what’s your role?” asked Planner once reaching the relative privacy of the room.

“I’m in charge of Alignment: story and artefacts. I liken the role to a Continuity Supervisor on a movie,” said Indigo briskly.

“So any problems with that?” asked Planner.

“I feel as though we are getting on top of the problem now with more staff coming on board. We have access to workshops and materials now, which was a problem last month,” said Indigo airily.

“So what’s up?” asked Planner trying not to sound irritable.

“You said that people should voice their concerns over the mission,” said Indigo meekly.

“Right. I felt you were a little bit wary about the mission in the briefing. Are you going to ask me, is it really going to be worth it?”

“Pretty much…” admitted Indigo.

“Is this about being a domestic job or just the whole job in general?” asked Planner carefully.

“I think I’m thinking more about the job because it is in the US. It’s hard to articulate because I know it shouldn’t matter… but it does.”

“So is it the objectives of the mission? Or the possibility of collateral damage?”

“Both really,” squirmed Indigo.

“Collateral damage. Yes, there will be. The PsyOp needs the shock value of many deaths. But as I mentioned earlier we have a range of measures to reduce the real numbers compared to the publicised numbers.” Planner stands up and paces he room. “US citizens are confronted with danger every day: on the roads, by medical procedures, military missions. There is risk in everything. Our operation is just adding to the risks for one day. One day. And from that day, our sponsors are hoping and expecting a pay off of long-term security and benefits to the American people. I can’t give you any assurances on that pay off. I’ve been involved in several of these types of missions; Horrible events… They are not pretty… You really don’t want to know… They often do not even achieve the end result required by our sponsors. But that’s our job. We won’t be told all the objectives. For this one, it’s the same. I’ve been given the general context no different from the one I mentioned in the briefing. I haven’t been told any more than what you have. I just have to trust the people in Washington and hope to God that they know what they’re doing. I don’t know whether that has helped at all?”

“Yes it has,” Indigo replied with an uncertain smile.

“If you want to exit the mission, then just say and I’ll get you re-assigned tout suite,” said Planner.

“No… no. It’s ok. I just needed the pep talk. Thanks for that, Planner. I hope you don’t mind me laying this on you,” said Indigo.

“It’s not a problem, Indigo. This mission is a hard one, that’s for sure. And these chats can really only be done one-on-one. If you hear of anyone else with similar concerns then refer them to me,” replied Planner with inner satisfaction.

“Sure. Ok, thanks.”

Chapter Three: California

Bates and Planner were close to the Main Langley Car Park, at a taxi pick up point, just about to make their separate ways to the airport. Although, none of the taxis were public taxis but dedicated shuttle vehicles for CIA employees to re-enter the real world without being identified.

Bates asked, “So what do you think about all this?”

“The planning for this is more advanced than I imagined”, said Planner nodding. “I thought this was going to be mainly media management, regular PsyOps. It is considerably more than I thought. A lot of work has already gone into this.”

“Indeed. Everybody knows the target was the World Trade Center, by the way.”

“They do?”

“Unofficially, yes,” teased Bates. “Of course, if terrorists really wanted to attack our capitalist heartland, they’d fly an aircraft into the Brooklyn Bridge; that would cause chaos for years. But I’d guess that would be too easy.”

A taxi drew up before Planner could respond.

“Anyway…” said Bates. “See you at the airport. Next stop: California!”

* * * *

Planner and Bates checked in their bags at the business class desk. The check-in agent, with a restrained smile, upgraded them to First Class. Planner and Bates exchanged knowing looks.

* * * *

Travis Air force Base was unseasonably chilly and overcast at 8am. Following their breakfast briefing, Planner and Bates were driven out past a line of big jets; three high-winged, four-engined, Boeing C-17 Globemaster III military transport jets. Behind them were Military Boeing 767 aircraft, the subject of their visit, which despite their similar dimensions, looked smaller in comparison to the military beasts.

The air base was unimaginably long and thin and bleak. They drove in a military HumVee at the regulation 20mph for twenty minutes northeast along the Perimeter Road, which runs parallel to the main runway. Due to the steel under-body armour plates in the HumVee, motor noise reflected up into the cabin prevented most forms of spoken communication. The driver wore a headset and their host for the day sat in the front seat, with Planner and Bates sitting uncomfortably in the back.

The vehicle eventually parked beside a painted mark on the road. There seemed no reason why this point rather than at any other point along that straight featureless road. Planner and Bates stretched and yawned as they exited the vehicle. The driver stayed inside vehicle, while their escort, Colonel Purple, stood using his cell phone. “Purple” was his Rainbow colored code name. He insisted on retaining his rank hence the Cluedo-sounding sobriquet. He was five foot six, slightly overweight with a short stubbly gray moustache. He had a short-sleeved uniform and must have been cold compared to Planner and Bates wearing their east coast coats. His phone conversation was short and was soon ready to brief his two Washington dignitaries.

“A noisy vehicle!” said Purple cheerfully, in a thick southern accent.

“I guess we can’t travel first class all the way”, sighed Bates.

“So you flew overnight”, Purple enquired politely.

“The Red Eye”, Planner said.

“I don’t find it so bad coming east to west myself”, Purple continued conversationally. “I’ve been doing it every month or so for the past twenty years.”

Planner and Bates made bland comments about not wanting to do the same. The airfield became silent and Bates started looking around. He could see a gray Boeing 767 flying in the distance.

Bates said, “So that’s the military version of the 757? I’m not an airplane expert, but wouldn’t a plane spotter spot the difference?”

“No, Sir, that’s a standard civilian 767. We’ve just painted it gray. Once we receive your instructions on livery, it will be indistinguishable from a civilian airliner. Just waiting for your instructions on that.”

“You have a good crew for that, Colonel?” asked Planner.

“The Best, Sir! We have the best. Totally reliable in all respects”, the Colonel replied emphatically. “The work will be carried out at MacDill Air base. Doc Zakhiem has placed a 767 tanker contract down there and we can siphon off the machines we need.”

“Old McThrill, eh?” said Planner.

“You’ve been there?” asked Purple.

“Sure. There’s special ops unit there I’ve used in the past. And Florida is good for us,” said Planner with Bates wrapping his coat around himself for warmth, nodding in agreement.

Purple’s watch bleeped indicating the appointed time was imminent. “Ok, Gentlemen, if you look over to the west, you’ll see the latest test approach.”

There was the sound of a jet engine far away. A minute later, a gray painted 767 flew over in a direction 90 degrees to the runway, directly towards them.

“This plane is currently flying at 7000 feet. It will now descend to just a few tens of feet, over the runway, there”, said Purple, pointing to the runway just a hundred yards away.

The plane started to bank port and descended rapidly. At the far end of the runway the plane had levelled out and started descending at a constant rate directly over the runway as if to land. However, the undercarriage remained retracted and the plane appeared to be accelerating rather than slowing down. In just a few seconds the plane had raced the whole distance of the runway. At the closest point of approach to Planner and co, the plane appeared to look as though it was about to plough into the ground. But then with a whoosh the plane was away slowly pulling up and flying straight to the north.

“Wow,” gasped Planner.

“Previous runs have shown we are on target within plus or minus two feet,” stated Purple.

“So what height did it descend to?” asked Planner.

“Twenty feet. We can’t get any lower because of ground effect; that’s air pressure keeping the aircraft aloft.” Stated Purple.

“That is impressive piloting,” said Bates.

“Pilot? No, Sir. This testing is too dangerous to have people on-board. It is robot controlled. The plane is a drone.”

“Of course! Of course! So no pilot required in any way?” said Bates.

“The flight path is all planned on a computer; Loaded up into the autopilot via a special unit called the Flight Termination System. I always thought that was a strange name for the device. It provides the one new trick absent from a standard autopilot, that is, to allow take-off without a pilot. We’ve had remote controlled aircraft since World War Two and planes have been flying and landing by computer for decades. And then, one more thing; in order to fly with pin-point precision, you just need the high fidelity radar and military-mode GPS^16”

“You just need that, huh?” said Bates sarcastically.

“Oh, and ten GPS satellites within line of sight,” said Purple to emphasise just how difficult it was.

“Ten satellites?” asked Planner.

“GPS coverage at any one point varies from around 6 to 12 satellites at any one time. It’s the only way to get the required accuracy. Hence why you are out in this field at such an unholy hour, gents… And remember, where we don’t have sufficient radar coverage, we need a chase plane.”

“Chase plane?” asked Bates.

“It’s like a look out”, said Purple. “Just keeps track of the drone. Just occasionally we lose sync with GPS and the drone strays off the flight plan; Very infrequent and easily corrected. We use a gulfstream executive-style jet as the chase plane.”

Bates held his tongue and considered what he had just seen and heard.

Planner perked up and said with satisfaction, “That’s great. So we’re all on track?”

“Yes, Sir. Next week, we’ll be testing two drones simultaneously and then we’ll be ready for the complete aerial exercise.”

Planner’s smile faded. “What about four?” he asked.

“Two was our specification. Two targets.”

“Can you do four?” asked Planner.

“Launching four aircraft simultaneously? Eight aircraft with chasers… That’s a lot of work. We’d probably need to commandeer another airfield…”

“How about two followed by another two. Say, within a 90 minute window? We don’t need the chasers over New York since we already have the high fidelity radar in place there.”

“That maybe possible… One chaser for two drones, maybe. We’d need to see a detailed schedule,” said Purple rubbing his chin.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Planner.

Colonel Purple had another call on his cell phone and Bates and Planner walked a few yards away, buffeted by the lingering wake vortex generated by the fast fly-past.

“Four aircraft?” said Bates. “You know we’ve been planning for one.”

“Well, Unofficially, it’s four,” replied Planner with grim humour.

“The Big Event. That’s singular: one!” Bates continued. “We’ve assumed Operations Northwoods: one aircraft and 200 passengers. We can’t handle anymore than 200 people. That’s 200 people going into the witness protection programme. That’s already stretching it past its capacity by a factor of ten.”

“Well we knew we had some work to do. I guess that is what we’ve been recruited to sort out,” replied Planner.

Bates gave it some thought and, with the wind dying down, and the sun warming his back, he softened his complaints. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll sort it out,” he said.

* * * *

Bates and Planner flew back east later that day. Planner crashed out exhausted when he arrived back home. He was still in bed at lunchtime when his cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Bates. I think you better come in this afternoon. There’s a few more problems”, said Bates over the phone.

“Problems?”

“When can you get here?”

“Give me an hour,” Planner clicked off and walked to the shower.

* * * *

Bates greeted Planner as soon as he walked through the Operation Rainbow office door.

“Ok, what sort of problems?” Planner asked.

“It’s about the hijackers,” replied Bates.

“Oh?”

“They’re not happy!”

Bates escorted Planner into a small office and a slim, suited, almond-eyed, woman joined them. This was Turquoise, generally known in the office as Turq. She provided an avalanche of strange-sounding names and a discussion on operational difficulties that Planner would find hard to follow, even if he was not jet-lagged.

Planner had to stop the conversation, “I think I’ve lost the plot. Can we skip back to the beginning?”

Turq gave Planner one of her laser-like stares and after a couple of seconds, and with the sound of teeth grinding, said, “Yes, Sir. We have selected ten middle-eastern men for the… hijackers.” She used air-quotes for the word. “We call them the Rainbow Actors and have numbered them one to ten. We’ve arranged visas, accommodation and have been keeping them busy. Some are ex-military and easy to organise. Some of the others are booked into a flight school down in Florida where we’ve been able to keep an eye on them.”

Planner with relief, said, “Thank you, Turquoise. I’d lost the context, that’s great. So what’s the problem?”

“The Rainbow Actors are coming up to see us. They want assurances on money and their new identities.”

“Us? Here? Coming up to see us? No way!” Planner knew the first rule of Intelligence Operations: the puppets needed to be kept well away from the puppet masters.

“Yeah, Way. Six of them.”

“Can we stop them?”

Turq sighed, “Not so easy. We communicate by drop boxes and an intermediary called Hiijii. We only talk to him face to face; never by long-distance phone calls. They are coming up now. We can’t communicate with them without breaking our communications protocol.”

“It’ll be logged by the NSA^17,” added Bates.

“I know the protocol,” Planner said with mild irritation. “But what assurances? Haven’t they already been paid in cash and arranged their own new passports and the rest?”

“They are not satisfied. They’re worried,” Turq said and hesitated slightly. “Personal safety issues. Mainly because they have been tracked by the FBI.”

“I thought we had an agreed management plan,” said Planner.

“Well, yes,” she said, becoming uncomfortable. “But something sprung out from a non-controlled source. Over at the Defence Intelligence Agency^18, there’s a research programme, called Able Danger^19. It loaded up models of everybody in the USA and plotted out their behaviours and considers who could be a terrorist.”

“Everybody? What?” gasped Planner.

“It plots people’s origins, networks, jobs and funding,” continued Turq, counting out the factors on her fingers. “Apparently, foreigners connected to known villains, with no jobs, but with plenty of money, light up their dashboard like a Christmas tree.”

“You’re saying our patsies were spotted by a giant computer-dating programme?”

“In a way,” smiled Turq, relaxing for the first time in the meeting. “Network analysis is not exactly the same as computing dating but it is an adequate analogy for the time being. In any event, some the Rainbow Actors came up on their short list. The DIA called the FBI. The FBI sent out agents who identified a bunch of middle-eastern folk, training as pilots, that, I quote,” said Turg, reading from a sheet of paper, “Were not interested in take off and landing, just flying large aircraft.20 The FBI escalated the matter up their chain and it was passed over to us. So in that respect the management plan did work.”

“So can we stop the FBI’s surveillance?”

“We have a plan to stop it. The trouble is, it’s like a dog with a bone. One of the FBI agents is their Bin Laden expert^21,” said Turq.

“When are we supposed to see the hijackers?” sighed Planner.

“Tomorrow,” said Bates.

* * * *

It was raining hard on the way home. Planner parked his car on a quiet country road and took out his Blackberry cell phone and an envelope. He removed his cell phone’s sim-card and opened up the envelope. The envelope had a new cell phone sim-card that he inserted into the phone. Since the NSA tracked all telecommunications, this swap ensured that the call would be virtually untraceable.

He dialled a number.

A voice on the end of the phone warily said “Hello?”

“It’s me,” said Planner.

“Hello, Planner. How is our enterprise coming along,” said his Lodge Master mildly.

“Not too badly. We have several issues to resolve as you would expect. We are resolving them one by one, although… Sir, I do have a request to make.”

“Go on.”

“We have Blue-On-Blue. I need a removal,” said Planner.

“Permanent or temporary.”

“I suggest a career change.”

“Understood. Name?”

“John Patrick O’Neill^22^23”

“Yes, I know him. FBI. I’ll arrange. Any other issue I can help you with?”

“I may need your help later on for a situation regarding the Rainbow Actors.”

“Oh? What do they want?”

“Assurances. I’m sorting it out tomorrow.”

“I presume you’re not talking about money.”

“No,” said Planner.

“Good. Let me know how it goes,” and the Lodge Master closed the call.

* * * *

7am. Planner yawned and leaned over and clicked off the alarm clock the instant it started to bleep. Planner looked at a picture of his wife and young daughter. It would be her birthday soon. He wondered if she would like flowers.

Coming out of shower, Planner received a call on his cell phone. Caller-id showed the caller was Bates.

“Where are they?”

Bates provided the information.

“Has the place been swept for bugs?”

Bates replied in the affirmative.

“I’ll meet you there.”

* * * *

At the Comfort Inn, Langley^24, six well-dressed middle-eastern men, Mohammed Atta, Khalid Al-Midhar, Majed Moqed, Hani Hanjour, Salem Alhamzi and Nawaq Alhamzi were having an animated discussion amongst themselves. There was a knock on the door and the arguing stopped.

“Who is it?” asked one.

“You know who it is. Let us in!” said Bates sarcastically.

Majed smiled, “Yep. That’s the password.” And unbolted the door.

Khalid directly challenged Planner as he entered the room, “So who are you?”

“I’m… the Planner,” said Planner.

“I thought it was already planned,” said Khalid.

“I sort out the details. I make sure that there are no pants around our ankles when the shit hits. Ok?” Planner said, pausing for effect. “We’re doing our best to sort everything out for you. So what’s the problem? I know there’s an issue with communication and all… We need to be professional about this.”

“Communication is the least of our problems,” replied Khalid dismissively.

“So what is it? Is it the flight training?” Planner said, trying, but failing, to be sympathetic.

Hani Hanjour muttered a response, “They’ve heard!”

“Heard? No. What?” Planner said.

“Hani couldn’t persuade a flight instructor to go up with him,” said Majed^25.

“When was this?” asked Planner, finally able to sound empathetic.

But it had no impact with Atta who stood up and angrily confronted Planner, “You know! Don’t pretend. You know what is going on. And we know what is going on. Our every move is being tracked. We’re being watched! We feel like we are dead men!”

Taking a step back, Planner said, “We know about the FBI agents following you. They’ve been stopped.”

As one, Kalid, Majed And Hani exclaimed, “FBI!?26”

“I didn’t know they were FBI,” said Hani wide-eyed.

“Well who did you think they were?” said Bates sarcastically.

“You Guys! CIA!” replied Hani more forcibly. “Why are they following us?”

“They’re not part of the team. The FBI got a tip-off from elsewhere. We’re handling it. We’ll clear it up,” assured Planner.

Atta was still less than happy, “We know how you operate,” he growled. “How you like to clean up. Professionally. We are here to make sure we are not part of the clean up.”

“What’s the problem? The money? Visas?” asked Planner trying his let-be-reasonable-about-this act.

“How do we know you won’t kill us?” asked Khalid suspiciously.

“Come on… you’re central to the plan,” Planner replied.

“Our deaths are central to the plan,” noted Khalid pointedly.

“You think we’d follow you and bump you off?” said Planner trying hard not to sound like a gangster.

“You’ve probably already planned it, Planner!” retorted Atta.

“No,” said Planner firmly. “The plan is as-agreed with you. You’ve selected your own new identities. We’ll give you access to the remainder of the money on the day of the event and you disappear. And then you keep off the radar. We won’t want to raise the story again. That makes no sense. We’re not going to draw attention to it.”

“Your people have been following us. They know our contacts,” reminded Khalid.

“They are FBI not CIA,” responded Bates.

“It’s all the same to us,” said Khalid.

“So what will be better for you? What do you want?” consoled Planner.

All the middle-eastern men glanced over at Khalid. “You just want our names,” Khalid said. “So you give us the money and we leave USA the night before the event.”

“But we need you to go through the airport on the day. Catch you on camera,” Bates protested mildly.

“You don’t need all of us to do that. You can fix it,” asserted Atta.

“What are you suggesting, just some of you?” Bates asked surprised.

“We have some… friends… that can turn up at the airport for us. They’ll pretend to be us. Hiijii has the details,” Majed interjected smoothly.

Planner took a second to process and then nods “Ok. Is that it? Money early and exit the USA the night before the event? With your friends turning up?”

“You’ll do it?” said Khalid with some surprise in his voice.

“Not a problem. Do you want to shake on it?” said Planner.

“Does that make some sort of difference? Just write it down!” said Atta flatly.27^28

* * * *

Returning to Planner’s car in the motel car park, Bates mutters in wonder, “Pasties for our patsies. Whatever next? I presume you realise this will water down our back story considerably.”

“We just have to doctor a few security videos. I think we can manage that. We’ll have our people on the ground at the airport, right?”

“Right”

“Have you arranged for the FBI to be out the way?” asked Planner.

“Oh yes, all but our own men will be stuck in LA. On a Training course!29” said Bates with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Right!” laughed Planner.

Bates enters the car in the driver’s seat and uncovers a laptop computer. He examines the on-screen results of the frequency scanner that had been running while they had been inside; the system detected bugs: both voice recording and video recording devices. “Nothing to report,” he said to Planner when he entered the passenger seat. “The meeting was off the record.”

Planner nodded.

* * * *

That evening on the same country road as the day before, Planner stops his car, inserts a new sim-card into his cell phone and dials a number.

“It’s Robert. The Rainbow Actors are ready to perform,” stated Planner.

“Any problems?” asked the Lodge Master.

“They’ve been spooked a little. They needed some further space and we’ve some minor embellishments to the back-story to make. But we’re resolving quite a few inconsistencies in the storyline.”

“Ok. Good. We don’t want any more miscommunication. So the COG has decided to centralise all the operational planning teams.”

“Where to?”

“CIA offices in New York. The Salomon Brothers Building^30.”

* * * *

Planner was tapping on the airline counter, barely concealing his frustration. He was unaccustomed at waiting in line at the first class check-in; this was most unusual. Indeed, that was what the staff member said when she put back the phone.

“Oh. This is unusual,” said the attractive female check-in agent, looking genuinely surprised.

“Oh?”

“We have a medical-emergency passenger on this flight. We’re rescheduling most of the first class passengers either onto other flights or business class. I’m terribly sorry, Sir. What would be your preference?” The check-in agent looked Planner in the eyes.

“When’s the next flight?” asked Planner.

“Not until this afternoon. Although we can check other airlines,” she said, immediately picking up a telephone.

Planner was quick to stop her, “No. Business class is fine.”

“Thank you, Sir. We’ll obviously refund the difference in price but you’ll retain your first class air miles, of course, Sir. Here’s your boarding pass. Boarding from Gate 10 in 30 minutes. Have a nice flight,” she said smiling broadly.

As he left, Planner could hear the check-in agent saying, “I’m sorry, Sir. Business Class is full.”

Planner walked through to “Departures”. He noted the lack of security checks for internal flights.

* * * *

Planner was in his seat in Business Class reading the Washington Post, concentrating deeply on a story about a collision between a US spy plane and a Chinese military aircraft. He was ignoring a heated conversation from across the isle from a businesswoman in her mid-thirties. She was gripping her mousey-blonde hair as she ranted into her cell phone.

“They can not do that! They can not do that! This is just ludicrous. Do they want them to wriggle out of this?” After a short pause she continued, “Every moment that we wait with the subpoena, just gives them more time to destroy evidence and rip off some more suckers.”

An officious air stewardess confronted the businesswoman, “I’m sorry, Madam, we’re closing the aircraft door now. You must switch off now.”

The businesswoman faked a smile at the stewardess, and concluded her call with gritted teeth, “I have to go. Kick the attorneys into action. Protest in the strongest terms. Ok? See you shortly.” She closed the call.

“You’ll need to switch it off completely, Madam,” the crewmember said firmly.

The businesswoman presses a button and showed off the device, “It’s off. See?”

The stewardess moved down the cabin catching Planner’s newspaper. Planner looked up and caught the businesswoman’s eye.

“Why do they have to do that? Would it have hurt so much to have another minute? Christ!” exclaimed the businesswoman to Planner. Then she held her mouth, not meaning to swear at a stranger.

Planner smiled weakly in return.

“I’m so sorry. I’m a bit wound up. I’m not usually like this.” The businesswoman smiled goofily at Planner.

“Well, it’s their job,” Planner replied reluctantly. “The cell phone could disrupt the aircraft… um… systems.”

“So they say. I know I left my phone on a flight the other week and I got a call while we were taking off. Didn’t seem to cause a problem. How can a fifty dollar phone bring down a $100 million airliner?” she joked.

Planner nodded slowly and folded his newspaper, “Indeed. I am sure they don’t cause a problem. It’s just the cost of proving that they don’t cause a problem.”

“I guess that must be it,” she said with a smile. Then her phone rang, she had obviously not turned it off. “Woopsy.” She said to Planner, then whispered into the phone, “Sorry. I can’t talk. I’ll be thrown off the plane!”

* * * *

Soon after take-off, the businesswoman leant towards Planner. The businesswoman held out her hand, “I’m Katherine, by the way.”

Planner said “Robert… Robert er… Smith.”

“Well how about that,” she said with a glow. “I’m a Smith too. Well, I wasn’t born a Smith; I married one. Now divorced. And you?”

Planner averted his eyes, “You really don’t want to know.”

“Separated?”

“My wife died in a car accident… last year.”

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, it was dreadful. It’s not a great subject for me, if you don’t mind,” Planner bit his lip when she looked away. In the immediate pause, he realised that he did want to talk; to talk to a real person, he rarely had the chance recently. He had not wanted to talk for a long time. So he said gently, “I don’t mind talking about your problems, though… a legal matter, I think I heard?”

Katherine looked back to Planner and smiled, “Lawyers! And accountants. They’re both driving me nuts. Do you know the difference between an accountant and a lawyer? At least, accountants know they’re boring.”

“So you’re not either?” ventured Planner.

“No, I’m an analyst. Analysts are also probably boring but I’d have to do some more research on that.”

“You’re really funny,” said Planner.

“A sense of humor is the only thing that keeps me going some days. Not that I let it show when I’m at work.”

“Seems intense.”

“It is at the moment. It’s pretty way-out.”

“Go on. I’m intrigued.”

“An extraordinary mess,” grimaced Katherine.

“Well… we have a couple of hours,” said Planner looking around the confining walls of the airliner.

“It would be good to talk about this stuff. It’s good-to-talk, as one of my British colleagues likes to say.”

“So you have a legal problem? With accountants involved too?” said Planner.

“A legal problem? Yeah,” said Katherine with a lopsided smile. “The problem being how do you get them to prosecute unabashed criminal activity?”

“With evidence?” said Planner hopefully.

“We have a ton of evidence. We suspected something was wrong with this company for a while. A single news article appeared asking how they made their numbers. They were just too good. Too smooth. So we looked and we couldn’t figure out how they made their numbers either. That’s the job I do.”

“As an analyst?”

“Right; as an analyst. Then we were given insight what was really going on; exposed by a whistleblower. We now have an avalanche of evidence. So we go to the lawyers and there’s this startled frozen reaction from the prosecutors.”

“Sounds typical to me,” said Planner.

“But it’s their job! Some of the lawyers involved in the case are displaying incompetence beyond comprehension.”

Planner nodded, “Then perhaps they’ve been asked to act incompetent. It’s one of the games.”

“Games?”

“The games people play… to distract from their true intention. Did they let this happen? Or have they made this happen? Both questions are irrelevant. The question to ask is what did they want to happen. Displaying incompetence is often just deflection or a delaying tactic.”

“Wow. That is it exactly. And you don’t even know what I’m talking about. What do you do again?” asked Katherine incredulously.

“I’m a… consultant. Aerospace industry. Radar… that sort of thing. And… er… who do you work for, er, Katherine?” said Planner nervously.

“Marsh McLennan in New York. I’ve been a market analyst there for eight years, doing this and that, portfolio management mostly,” she trotted off of company names and investment procedures and started to see Planner’s eyes glaze over, and so came back on topic firmly. “Anyway,” she said, “I see I don’t need to do any more research on whether market analysts are boring or not.”

Planner laughed.

“So then I stumbled across, what I consider to be, the crime of the century. But… yes, strangely, or perhaps not, now that I’m talking about it with you, without my spreadsheets and powerpoints… I’m struggling with my own conclusions.”

Planner shrugs, “So is this just your opinion?”

“Oh, no. We have a whole team working on this. My whole department has now bought into this.”

“So what’s the crime?”

“A whole, massive, criminal, enterprise,” Katherine said grappling with the words.

Planner did not have to say a word, just the look and smile to indicate that Katherine really ought to have known better.

Katherine wagged her finger, “No, it’s not the Mafia. Or at least, I don’t think it is. It’s hard to believe though. Just suppose… there was this company that produces nothing but just buys and sells stuff, say, for the sake of argument, er…”

“Insurance?” mused Planner.

“No. Electricity, say. And they get a monopoly contract to supply a whole state.”

“So potential for abuse from the start,” noted Planner.

“Yes. They get paid on the mark-up. So what they do is, they close local capacity, to cause power cuts^31 and then buy-in expensive electricity from afar.”

“Where no doubt they get a rake off? So they’ll going to lose this contract eventually,” observes Planner.

“No. That’s just it. They don’t!” Katherine blurts. “They’ve won awards for most innovative company for six years because no-one hears the bad stuff. They pay journalists to say how wonderful they are.”

“Hmm, that sounds unethical. But is that illegal?”

“Misrepresentation? Oh yes, that’s illegal!” Katherine said trying to restrain any shrill in her voice. “But the worst part, to keep the share price going up, the company buys its own shares using a loan from a bank.”

“Stupid, sure, but not illegal?”

“It’s illegal the way they do it. The loans are treated as income and not debt. Accountants are no longer creative, they’re fraudsters. With Auditors told to look the other way.”

“Ok. That’s illegal,” said Planner pursing his lips.

“And with the loans, shares and rip-off prices, there’s lots of cash being generated… That is used to buy-off politicians so that more crappy deals are made across the country. And the pile of shit just gets bigger and bigger until…” and then Katherine stops and looks into the distance.

“Until what?”

Katherine shakes her head, “I don’t know!”

“You don’t?”

“No. I keep trying to imagine all the ramifications and I can’t. The size of the hole is billions of dollars. I imagine the four horseman of the apocalypse in my sleep,” she says dramatically.

“Well, I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Planner said reassuringly. “It’ll be a scandal and forgotten about in six months.” Planner then bit his lip and asked the crucial question that every intelligence analyst knows is the keystone to credibility, “How do you know all this?”

“There’s a whistleblower. She’s one brave lady. She’s been feeding information to the S.E.C,” said Katherine.

“S.E.C?”

“Security and Exchange Commission. Fraud investigators.”

“Oh right,” Planner belated realised he should have known this, “So how did you find out?” he asked.

“Wall Street is a small place; word gets around,” smiled Katherine.

“So the SEC is onto this then it’s sorted, right? Why is this your problem?”

“We have a ton of shares in this company and we want to dump them and advise our clients to do the same. But! We have been asked not to upset the legal case. If we sell the whole lot, we have to explain why and the whole house of cards will collapse. All those whistleblowers and sources would never work again, the whole legal case goes down the pan, and so the jerks would get off scot-free.”

“So sell slowly?”

“We are. But since the shares are still going up and up, we have other people asking why we aren’t maximising our portfolio. But, yeah, we are dumping the stock.”

“Can you say which company this is?”

“We’re pretty certain the end is nigh, except for this worrying incompetence at the SEC, so ok… You might not have heard of them. They’re the energy trading company that has California by the throat. They call themselves ENRON.”

Chapter Four: GI Joe

Planner enjoyed Katherine’s company on the flight and it looked like the feeling was mutual. Katherine just had a carry-on bag, and huge handbag and needed to rush to her appointments in the city, while Planner had checked-in a bag and needed to retrieve it.

Katherine offered her hand, “Ok. Well, it’s been really good to chat with you, Robert.”

Planner shook her hand, “Good luck catching those jerks.”

“Thanks. You’ll see it in the news.”

“I’m sure I will.”

A loud airport announcement about delays in luggage handling stifled further conversation. Katherine hung back as if she wanted to say more but Planner was looking for the baggage carousel. He caught hold of a memory, of being greeted by his wife and daughter at the airport. That was a year ago.

He looked around and realised Katherine was walking away. His brain finally processed that she had said “bye”. Planner sighed, he had not replied. He could have asked her for her number. She seemed nice. Perhaps he had too much baggage for a relationship at that moment. He looked at the luggage carousel and smiled at the irony.

Through the window, towards Manhattan, he could see the misty outline of iconic New York skyline. A skyline dominated by two oblong blocks; the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center.

Planner was dropped off by the cab in Liberty Street, close to the South Tower of the World Trade Center. That meant he had to walk across the WTC Plaza, strongly shadowed by the 1360-foot twin towers, passed another building in the complex, the eight-story WTC6, to reach the Salomon Brothers Building, a bronzy-brown building, less than half the height of the twin towers. The sign on the building read “WTC7 Salomon Brothers”. Most people referred to the building as WTC7.

Planner took the lift to the 25th floor of WTC7 and entered the office marked “Department of Defense”. Once through the security of that office, there was a second locked door, unmarked, and Planner gained entry via a swipe card to get to the entrance lobby of the CIA offices. Following that were “security tubes”. All staff and visitors had to type a code, whereupon the front of the tube opened, entered into the tube and waited a few seconds, the tube door would then open on the other side to allow entrance (or exit) to the office. It seemed vaguely reminiscent of opening sequence of the 1960s “Get Smart” comedy-show to enter the CIA offices and while inside the tube, Planner hummed the theme tune as he waited for the plexi-glass door to open. From the CIA lobby, there were private stairways to other floors but no lifts, much to the annoyance of some of the more senior staff. This New York office was CIA’s largest office away from CIA HQ in Langley.

Bates looked up from his desk as Planner entered and immediately guided him into an empty side-office. Planner felt the laser stare from Turquoise sitting some distance away, looking grim and furiously pounding on a computer keyboard.

“Quick update,” said Bates in a professional tone. “I’ve told Turq about the four aircraft. Since we’ve max-ed out the witness protection programme, the story will just have to run with four lightly loaded aircraft.32 We’ve had some more volunteers from our staff to fill some spaces on the planes. But we’ve had real problems finding the extra flight crew.”

“Yes, that sort of figures,” said Planner, taking some water from a water cooler and sitting down. “And extra hijackers?”

“Well, there’s been some sense of humor failures over the estimated, ten extra hijackers,” said Bates condescendingly. “But we’ve talked it through; and the recommendation is that we’ll just steal some identities.”

“So just mystery men?” pondered Planner. “It does water down the back-story.”

“Yes, it does,” admitted Bates.

Planner ground his teeth, “But it can’t be any worse than the trail we’ve already left to our door. Get the names and we’ll develop some connections.”

Bates sighed and sat on the edge of the desk. “Well,” he said, “the real problem appears to be that Turquoise doesn’t feel any of the current rainbow actors are credible either. Not as devoted Muslims prepared for suicide attacks^33, or as pilots of civil airliners. Hani Hajour, for example, the guy who was refused instruction the other day, is supposed to be performing the manoeuvre we saw at Travis Air Base.”34

Planner sipped his water. He looked at his watch, grunted and then looked back at Bates, “Remind me to go over every single back story and operations phase C. We have to have a tight control on the legends. And control the news stories. We have time to develop this and manage the news later.”

“Ok,” said Bates.

“So what’s next?”

“The Next Stop?” recalled Bates. “That’ll be Operation GI Joe. It’s in this building, Department of Defense. You’ve probably walked past their office to get here.”

“Ok,” said Planner. “Let’s Roll!”

* * * *

The officer introduced as Joe, was in mid-thirties, military hair cut, but wearing an ill-fitting, off-the-peg, gray suit. The suit fitted poorly because his bulging muscle physique, as expected from someone that trained for special operations all his working life. Around his thick neck, he had many different access passes attached to his lanyard. He stood at a white board where he had drawn a rough plan of Pentagon. Bates and Planner were in chairs facing him.

“So as you know,” Joe boomed, in a formal military style. “The primary objective of Operation GI-Joe is the destruction of the DoD’s Financial Audit operations, including those being conducted by the Office of Naval Intelligence and Army. This is mandated by the COG and is required to cover the tracks of all other operations.35”

“So all the budgets for BE2 are being funnelled through the DoD^36?” asked Planner.

“Yes, Sir. We’re all using DoD budgets,” Joe replied crisply. He pointed to the Pentagon plan, “The secondary objective is the destruction of the Naval Command Center. This is to inhibit the use of Navy aircraft in any air defence.”

Planner exchanged glances with Bates with a nod.

Joe continued, “The Army Audit department^37, ONI, Naval Command Center^38 and computers are currently being re-housed in the refurbished wedge of the Pentagon currently being undertaken by AMEC. Here. Wedge one.”

“How many other departments will be there?” asked Planner.

“This part of the building is mainly empty. I believe the list of new occupants are mainly Navy Departments. Remaining departments of the ONI, for example, will be likely to move in over the summer.”

“Unfortunate,” mused Planner. “Any chance of slowing down the move? Delay the internal decoration, for example?”

“We have that under consideration, Sir,” Joe reported. “However, since the targets are computer systems, with advanced warning, we will be able to evacuate and have very few casualties.”

Planner nodded his approval.

Joe switched over to a powerpoint slide which listed the operational options. Joe continued his report, “Currently we have two main options for taking this area out: (a) drone airliner aircraft crash or (b) manual airliner aircraft fly-over. For either option, we ensure target destruction with either a missile or a bomb… or both. Ok, technically, six options. And there are sub-options for option (a), we can either have an actual 757 drone or smaller craft such as Global Hawk, with a suitable paint job.”

“Supported by witness testimony?” asked Planner.

“Right. Covering all possibilities. We can pick and choose the witness testimony to suit.”

“And we’re able to plant bombs inside the Pentagon?” asked Planner.

“Yes. AMEC is the contractor on site at the moment, renovating the building at the point of impact^39.”

“And any fly-over aircraft would land immediately?” asked Planner.

Joe returned to the map and points to the runway behind the Pentagon in-line with the attack route. “Yes, there’s a little-used runway at Reagan Airport just behind the Pentagon where the aircraft would land.”

“What sort of evacuation warning time do we need?” asked Planner.

“Probably about ten minutes. That’s a reasonable time for a building evacuation.”

“So what’s you’re preferred option?” Bates asked Planner.

“I’m undecided at the moment,” said Planner. “We will need precision explosives inside the building to ensure the destruction of the computers and the data. But what about data back-ups? All the financial data would be archived and backed-up and held elsewhere, right? Do you know where the back-up tapes are stored?”

“For the DoD Financial Audit?” Joe said and finally started smiling. “You’ll like this: the data back-ups are stored in the World Trade Center.40”

“Oh perfect,” said Bates.

* * * *

Returning back to the CIA Offices, the device controlling the lock into the CIA Offices failed to accept either Planner’s or Bates’ swipe card. They could hear the sound of drills and saws.

“Building work,” sighed Bates.

“Apparently”, agreed Planner.

“So what did you think of GI Joe?” mused Bates.

“I think he needed a scar across his face to really look the part,” joked Planner.

“I hadn’t registered that until you mentioned it,” laughed Bates vigorously.

Planner walked to a water cooler close by, and drank more water. “We’re back on track, now, I feel,” he said when he returned. “If you are up to it, can you clear up the Phase C for GI Joe? We didn’t really cover that. I’m thinking about CCTV coverage and witnesses: Less is more for this target, I think.”

“OK, got it,” said Bates, still chuckling from Planner’s joke.

“Blame it on security.” Looking at his watch, Planner said, “And can you check with Nicholas about the Naval Command Center? OK, I’m going to check into the hotel and take some aspirin.”

“Sure. Headache?”

“This whole thing is a headache. But yes, I think this is wearing me down. I need a whisky and a movie.”

“That’s a good idea. Have you seen Gladiator yet?”

“I heard that was good.”

Bates mimicked Russell Crowe, “On my command, unleash hell!”

“Funny,” said Planner, not amused. “When you get inside, can you send my luggage over?”

Chapter Five: Eagle

Feeling refreshed, the next morning Planner was in the hotel breakfast room, reading about the latest analysis on the US-China incident in the newspaper, when a familiar businesswoman popped into view at a 45 degree angle.

“Smithy!?”

Planner lowered his newspaper. “Why”, Planner spluttered, “Ms Smith!”

Katherine pulled a face in response and silently mouthed her name with a nod.

“It’s good to see you. What a surprise. What are you doing here?” enthused Planner.

“I stay here three nights a week,” said Katherine with a smile. “My office is just there.” She points out to the World Trade Centre Plaza.

Planner cannot conceal his shock. “You work there! In the towers?”

“Ninety Fifth floor. North tower,” she said hunching her shoulders. “Good job I’ve a head for heights as well as figures. So what brings you here?”

“Well, I’m in WTC7,” said Planner biting his lip.

“Hey,” said Katherine, in surprise. “That’s where the Security and Exchange Commission is?!”

“I know that now. I didn’t know that yesterday,” laughed Planner.

They both chuckled.

“You never see what’s staring you straight in the face!” observed Katherine

“Too true,” agreed Planner. Quickly looking around, Planner asked, “So have you had breakfast? Do you want to join me?”

“Well…” smiled Katherine, a fake smile, crinkling her nose.

“You have to go?” Planner said.

“I’m actually running late. I’ve got an early morning meeting. About you-know-what,” Katherine said merrily but taking a step backwards.

“The Jerks?” asked Planner standing up.

“Right. They have playing musical chairs at the top of the organization. We’re trying to work out what they are doing. So… sorry, um. Nice to see you again. Perhaps another time?”

“Well… are you around… like this evening? For drinks, perhaps?”

“Maybe tricky. Blame the Jerks and the games people play. But here’s my card. As long as my cell phone battery isn’t flat, I’ll take your call. Or if you have a card then I’ll call you?”

Planner made a poor impression of searching his suit for a business card, “I don’t seem to have any cards on me at the moment. I’ll call at seven”.

Katherine wobbled her hand uncertainly and she walked away backwards.

“Ok. Every half hour after seven,” suggested Planner.

Katherine waved, turned and hurried away.

* * * *

Planner walked across the windy World Trade Center Plaza towards the shimmering skyscraper at the north end, WTC7. While it would have been the tallest building in most cities, the tallest building in 30 US states, in New York it was only the 28th tallest and standing next to the Twin Towers, was positively dwarfed by its huge neighbours. With its glossy, brown facade WTC looked business-like but completely unobtrusive. Planner noticed, probably for the first time, a list of organisations within the building on an unobtrusive board. It announced that the “Security Exchange Commission” was located there. Of course, the Department of Defense and CIA were not mentioned. Planner wondered how often Katherine had meetings inside WTC7.

Once inside the building, to reach his office, Planner needed to navigate an escalator, elevator, stairs, the security tube and also multiple swipe-card controlled doors. He unloaded his hefty laptop computer, hooked it up and was soon lost in the in-tray of work provided by email; Even covert operations have plenty of paperwork.

Bates knocked on the door. “We have ten minutes before the meeting with Operation Eagle. They’re just down the corridor,” said Bates. And then as an afterthought added, “They’ve moved from Washington last week. They are not happy.”

“So obviously not military?” said Planner amused.

“No. Lawyers. Legal Eagles,” he said with a nod.

Planner groaned at another awful code name. Planner saved the file and pressed the CTRL-ALT-DELETE keys, the three fingered salute to secure the computer from casual prying eyes.

“I was thinking, Bates,” said Planner while he secured the documents on his desk, “Can you get me some business cards?”

“Sure. I’ll get Turq onto it,” said Bates.

“Spare Turq, I’m sure someone more junior can do it,” said Planner mindful of the stress he had already caused her. “I need them to give out to Muggles.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to mix with the non-magical?” said Bates with amusement. “So what title do you want? Chief Wizard, perhaps?”

“Cute. Chief… Planner,” Planner said as they walked out the office. “For an aerospace company. Make it TSAC. I know some people there that might be useful. The name should read Robert Smith.”

“Smith. Original. Ok,” said Bates sarcastically.

“I like to keep it simple,” said Planner.

As they walked down the corridor, Planner said, “Perhaps I should have a color name. Everyone here has a color code name except you and me.”

“We were running short of snappy code names so I volunteered an alternative. Bates is a nickname I had when I was young, so I’m comfortable with it. I didn’t want Puce. I toyed with Wheat, which were a couple of the rejects. You could have a color code name if you want,” said Bates, as they stood outside a featureless door.

“I wonder which ones have already been used?” asked Planner.

That’s easy!” Bates recalled from memory, very fast, “Amber, Auburn, Beige, Blue, Burgundy, Charcoal, Chestnut, Copper, Crimson, Cyan, Green, Indigo, Ivory, Lavender, Lemon, Lilac, Lime, Magenta, Mahogany, Maroon, Mint, Ochre, Olive, Orange, Pearl, Pink, Purple, Ruby, Scarlet, Sienna, Silver, Tangerine, Taupe, Teal, Turquoise, of course, Vanilla, Vermilion, Violet and Yellow. Black, Brown, Gold and Gray were already used in Operation Eagle. They started before us. Hey, we don’t have a White. How about that?”

“That was some magic! You have some sort of photographic memory going on there?”

“Eidetic, yes,” said Bates. “It saves on the note taking. It’s liked by the agency, of course; I get some plum jobs because of it.”

“Like this one? Not what I call plum,” said Planner.

“It pays well,” said Bates with a lop-sided smile. Bates knocked on the door.

“Did you mention Plum on your list?” asked Planner.

“No. Not used. It could have been a rejected color name,” sighed Bates. “Either that or I’m slipping. So do you want to change the name on the business card?”

“No, has to be Smith. I like White as a code name though: the sum of all colors. Basic Physics.”

“Phah. Physics! Such trickery will never be useful in Hogwarts,” mocked Bates as the door opened.

* * * *

Planner and Bates were introduced to two lawyers who called themselves Mr Black and Mr Brown. They both looked in their late sixties, gray haired, creased and wrinkly skin. They both wore immaculate charcoal suits and ties, matching color to their names, with an eagle motif. Planner and Bates also looked like brothers, being the same height, hair color, wearing similar dark blue suits. Bates, however, was noticeably slimmer than Planner.

They entered a large office with clear views of Manhattan to the north, looking over to the Empire State Building and Deco-style Chrysler Building. In the foreground was the famously uncontrollable Devil’s Kitchen area now favoured by artists and fashion stores.

“People would pay to see this view,” observed Planner.

“Oh, yes,” replied Black blandly. “I haven’t really had the time to look at it much, though.”

They sat around a desk with two large folders in the middle.

“We’re behind schedule,” Black sighed. “This move from Washington hasn’t helped.”

“I presume most of your stakeholders are in DC?” said Bates sympathetically.

“Right. This is really most inconvenient for us. But I stopped my complaining when I was woken up at midnight from someone-I-can’tmention, telling me: sort it out. He mentioned in no uncertain terms, the JFDI methodology.”

“JFDI?” asked Bates.

“Just Fucking Do It”, said Black with a tinge of a smile.

“So can you outline your brief?” asked Planner to the lawyers, with a knowing sideways glance to Bates.

“We’ve been working with Ashcroft, Chertoff^41 and Viet^42 for the passed year on the legal response. But you have to realise, this is not, and will not be, a complete bill,” said Black

Brown interrupted with his first contribution, “We’re working on bits of legislation that will er… come together, organically, after BE2.”

“We have ten different sections,” continued Black as he opened one of the folders on the table to show Planner and Bates. “Covering everything from surveillance to banking, border controls to computer security. Worked on by separate teams — all specialists in their respective fields and not all indoctrinated into the wider objectives. This is a major undertaking and there is only a close knit group that can review the whole amount.”

“So,” Planner backtracked. “This is one of the desired outcomes from BE2? To enable new legislation?”

“Oh, yes,” stated Black calmly. “This is one of the BE2’s main goals. It is so difficult to change the law. We need the catalysing event that you will be providing. We need it for the Programme for the New American Century^43.”

“Yes, I see,” Planner stated.

Brown seemed slightly irritated, “But we found we had a problem.”

Black added, “We workshopped the scenarios. We brought politicians and psychologists together and walked them through the art of the possible.”

Brown continued, “We identified a couple of months ago that there would just too many open-ended aspects to the program. None of us can know everything about these subjects — after all, law is our field. Not the seven layer model inside TCP-IP and other technical details. The whole thing has to be passed by the senate, hold together and not be picked apart piecemeal by liberals and libertarians. At least, not too quickly.”

“So your problem is just managing to get these legislative parts together?” asked Planner.

“No. Our problem started when we began to realise that we’d never be able to make our bill watertight. There’ll always be controversy, bound to be, and loose ends. It’s inevitable with something this large,” said Black.

“We concluded that we needed an Operation Phase B, it’s own Shock and Awe program^44 following on from BE2,” said Brown.

“It was the psychologist team’s idea,” added Black.

“From Operation Carrot, right?” said Bates.

“Sorry, I get lost with all the code names,” said Brown irritably.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” muttered Bates.

“So the purpose of this phase would be to drive the acceptance of the new laws. To continue for as long as required to get it signed. Everyone would be clamouring for the politicians to act,” said Brown forcibly.

“This is sounding like complication. I don’t like complication,” said Planner with a frown.

“I understand,” said Black. “We’ve taken this up to the COG. We needed to anyway, for logistical reasons.”

“Ok let’s hear it,” said Planner, leaning back.

“We agreed a scare tactic. Put the senators on edge until the bill is passed,” said Brown.

“And this is done… how?” asked Planner.

Black looked uncomfortable and after an exchange of glances, Brown stated, “Anthrax powder mailed through the post.”

“Anthrax!?” stated Planner with restrained alarm.

Black cradled his fingers, “I had the same reaction. The workshops, though, as I mentioned… we ran some scenarios and plotted out pros and cons for various options. In short, what we propose is the following… that the first intervention would use inert material; a dummy sent to selected journalists to hype the news; thereafter, further deliveries in easily identifiable packets in an escalation process… until we achieve our objective.”

“You’re planning on sending Anthrax to senators?” stated Planner in as even a tone as he could manage.

Brown replied, “You might be interested to note, there’s an inoculation drug called Cipro to protect high value assets^45^46. We’ve been told to expect very low collateral damage.”

“This has been cleared?” asked Planner, trying to hide his incredulity.

“Yes. I personally cleared it with the COG,” said Brown.

“And where are you going to dig up the Anthrax?” asked Bates.

Brown shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, “This is why we needed to go to the COG. Not only to approve the plan but to obtain the material. The requisition has been put into train. And from that we have good news and bad news.”

“The good news,” Black said airily, “is that we have permission.”

“The bad news is that we have to use… uh, unofficial means of obtaining the material,” said Brown and paused. “The COG said that you are the people to help us.”

* * * *

Bates and Planner sat within a booth in a dark and noisy bar close to Wall Street. It was only 6pm, Happy Hour, and light streamed into the bar whenever the door opened; and at Bates’ suggestion, both had already sampled some of the drinks. Planner was a Bourbon drinker, but Bates had insisted that they both have Martini cocktails of different types.

Planner loosen his tie and top shirt button, and said quietly to Bates, “If these lawyers think we are going to go into a military base like Tom Cruise, all clandestine, lowered in by cables, they’ll be mightily disappointed.”

“They’d probably consider the acquisition of one of the deadliest bacterial spores known to man, a minor detail,” Bates reflected, while finishing his September Manhattan^47.

“This minor detail requires its own Stage A, B and C. It’s a major operation. It’s not as simple as getting some spores and scatter them around until the Senators fall in line. I don’t like it. It’s messy and unnecessary,” said Planner.

“Just more shit we have to shovel,” Bates mused philosophically.

Planner shook his head, “No, this is different. It feels different to me.”

“I don’t know what you’ve been up to before, but this feels like modus operandi to me,” Bates stated with a shrug.

“This is different. This is quite new, for me anyway, in several ways. It’s no longer removing an enemy of the state or setting up the mood music for a political scenario to influence a Latin American republic, it is now marshalling our own senators with a metaphorical gun to their heads,” said Planner grimly.

“Et tu, Brute?” queried Bates.

Planner ignored the comment, “And besides the additional innocents sacrificed to Baal, there’s more shit to scrap from our shoes.”

“There’s always the money to buy new shoes,” observed Bates.

“Hmm, Money. Yeah but once you pass your hierarchy of needs, is money really a motivator?” considered Planner.

“Taking off your shoes and getting cold feet, Planner? Developing liberal morals? Best be careful in this place,” said Bates waving his hand to the bar.

Planner looked around and saw dozens of young executives in smart suits in this mock-mahogany lair; drinking cocktails and champagne, laughing very loudly; the cream of capitalism at play.

Planner sighed and expounded, “I live by the cliche that you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. The end justifying the means… I just… don’t like breaking more eggs than needed.”

“That’s excellent logic, Robert”, said Bates artificially. “I can see that you have the big picture.”

“So what motivates you, Bates?” asked Planner trying to hide his irritation.

“Money and sex, does it for me. Oh and probably, self-preservation,” Bates said with a wry smile.

“I know what’s bugging me,” said Planner looking at his drink. “I see myself as a cancer doctor. The cancer within society…”

“I got that,” said Bates.

“…And I use surgical operations, excisions, to remove the cancer,” said Planner. “And sometimes, sometimes, some healthy flesh has to be taken to remove that cancer. It’s unfortunate, but necessary. Utilitarianism^48. I do that. I know that’s my job.”

“Surgical? What er… instrument do you use?” Bates asked cautiously.

“Aircraft,” said Planner. “I use aircraft. Very blunt surgical device except for surgery on society. Then it can be very precise. And I’m good at aircraft. Bringing them down, explaining it away.”

Bates whistles in amazement.

“But this new plan…” Planner shakes his head.

“You mean Operation Eagle,” said Bates.

“Yes,” said Planner. “It is like introducing cancer to kill cancer. It just doesn’t work for me. It disturbs my, what shall I call it? …world view.”

“You cannot fly like an eagle with the wings of a dove,” quoted Bates.

“Very witty. Ok, I only have a short while,” said Planner, looking at his watch.

“You have another engagement?” asked Bates.

“I hope to,” smiled Planner.

“So what are we going to do to get this mat-eri-al?” asked Bates.

“We go in and ask nicely,” mused Planner. “With a big club behind our back!” Planner ripped a page from his filofax and wrote a name and number. “This is the go-to guy for the authorisation to get into Fort Detrick. We need to get in a.s.a.p. Can you call him?”

Bates takes the note and nods, impressed. Much to Planner’s surprise, Bates immediately destroys the note. He’d already memorised the name and number.

* * * *

A shower and 90 minutes, later, Planner was greeting Katherine in the hotel bar, with a handshake and small peck on the cheek.

“I’m glad you could make it. The jerks not keeping you too busy tonight?” said Planner.

“The jerks weren’t playing at all,” Katherine chuckled. “Stone-walling. So I have some time off this evening.”

Their waitress arrived with drinks, “Sir, Madam, your drinks. Can I get you anything else?”

“That’s fine. Thanks,” said Planner.

Katherine took her cocktail and started drinking it fast, barely able to make eye contact with Planner.

“So you work in New York and live in DC?” said Planner, trying to restart the conversation.

“Pretty much. I’ve been commuting for the past year. Usually one week in NY and the next working from home dialling-in from my home computer. So not too bad.”

“Nice view from your office?” he asked, still struggling to rekindle their rapport.

“The windows are too narrow to have a good view. One of the many things I don’t like about the building.”

“You don’t like the building?”

“No! Do you? I don’t know anyone that does,” Katherine said while continuing to drink quickly. “Apparently it’s so full of asbestos; it might be condemned!49”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“55 Broad Street, down the road; I know one of the people working there. They emptied the building to have the asbestos stripped from there. It cost five times more than the original building cost! Can you see them doing that for the Twin Towers?” she said, adding, as if this was more important, “Even the shops in the basement mall are closing! Blah. So how has your day been?”

“Not good. A mess really,” sighed Planner. “Too many changes to plans; all sorts of detritus to be cleared up. I’ll need to beg for more resources. Cap in hand: Please Sir, Can I have some more. I’m beginning to think the whole program is flawed.”

Planner received a text message. Planner looked down briefly to read it. The text message from Bates read, “Fort D. all set up for next week”.

“Is this another defense contract going awry?” she asked hesitantly.

Planner looked up and said, “I’m afraid so.”

“Will you be able to sort it out with millions or billions?” she teased.

“It’s a billion dollar deal,” lied Planner smoothly. “But I’ll clear up my mess for an extra few million. But now I feel there may be other aspects flapping about and not pegged down.”

“So another billion, huh?” she said deliberately exaggerating. “Is your job on the line or anything?”

“You know I haven’t really thought about that,” said Planner jokingly. “Now I’ll be worrying about that tonight.”

“Nah! Worry about it in the morning. You have to sort me out tonight: stop me worrying about the jerks. I have so many things in my head at the moment,” said Katherine returning to her cocktail.

“Well… you know that the human mind can only deal with a maximum of eight big ideas at a time?” soothed Planner.

“Really? As many as that! I thought it was only women that could multitask,” She said with a fake laugh.

“Ooh, first sexiest remark of the evening! And not from me!” teased Planner.

Katherine had a more genuine laugh but still seemed ill-at-ease, “You have to excuse me. I guess I’m not use to going drinking with strange men. Boring men, yes. Strange men, no.”

“So tell me about yourself, Katherine. You seem a bit nervous.”

“I guess I am. I prefer talking about work in general. Safer subject.”

“The jerks are a safe subject?”

“I see your point,” she said. Then with feigned good humour, Katherine said, moving uncomfortably in her seat, “I’m pretty much a bitch at work. It’s easier that way. But speaking to another human, this is where the problems begin.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I find that it is easier to live in the land of lies. I live the life of an ogre devouring all in front of me. But in the real world, I have to admit to being a mere mortal.”

“And that causes a problem because…?” asked Planner wondering where this conversation was leading.

“What normally happens in the real world, is that, say, this salt-of-the-earth type guy rides into town, ties up his horse and wanders into the saloon, leans of bar and orders some drinks, you know, the way they do. He looks around and settles his gaze upon me across the crowded room, as I play my hand at the card table and win another huge kitty…”

“This is the real world, you say?” teased Planner.

Katherine provides a sarcastic half-smile.

“Sorry, go on”

Katherine continued gloomily, “So we meet, have a few laughs, and then, because this is the real world, I fess up. I say, I-have-a-daughter and then, with barely a tip of the hat, I watch my cowboy ride into the sunset…”

Planner responded quickly, “What’s her name?”

“Beth. She’s ten,” said Katherine, lightening up after making this confession.

“Ten? That’s a great age,” said Planner. “Tell me about her.”

“She wants to be a professional baseball player. She’s not very good but very enthusiastic.”

“The best way to be.”

“Not very good?” teased Katherine.

“That too,” Planner laughed. “I was actually talking about enthusiasm but, hey, let’s celebrate the not-naturally-talented too.”

“She probably has talents, just hasn’t found them. Last month, she wanted to be a doctor.”

Planner chuckled, “It’s good to keep your options open.”

“Were you one of those people that knew what they wanted to be at ten years old?” she asked.

“No, not at all. My parents pushed me hard. I complied. Got on well.”

“Ivy League?”

“Cornell,” said Planner. “It was good. I had a great time. My mates and I lived in a big old house close to campus. Every other house down the road was full of students. We had parties every weekend, under the watchful eye of residents that sat out on their front porches watching the commotion. I think they kind of liked it. Went down to the lakes at weekends. Picnicked out. Felt I lived through several lifetimes there.”

“Sounds lovely. Better time than I had at college. So what took over your life?”

“My job? I went into Aircraft Control Systems. Fascinating stuff, loved it. Found I was working with the engineers all night trying to get things fixed and working right; Electronics, Networks, Software, I used to know it all. It was boom-business in the eighties and I was good at my job. Yeah, I used to be good at my job.”

“Just used-to-be?” she queried.

“It’s a different job now. It’s er… political nowadays,” said Planner uneasily.

“You seem like you can handle it.”

“Appearing that-way is one of my strengths.”

“So work has taken over your life?” she asked.

“Oh totally. Several midnighters last week. Mind you, I also went the movies last night, so not all bad,” he said.

“What did you see?”

“Gladiator. On my command unleash hell!” mimicked Planner.

She laughed. Planner was glad she laughed. They continued to laugh together all night; even when there was no joke. They even laughed when they said good night with a peck on the cheek. But they were lovers by the end of the week.

Chapter Six: Rainbow Review

Planner was in a featureless WTC7 conference room with various members of the Rainbow Team including Bates, Turquoise and Indigo. Bates was reading through a set of minutes on his chunky, IBM Thinkpad laptop.

“Can we just run through the list of actions?” said Bates to unenthusiastic murmurs. “First one: passenger list?”

“Complete,” said Turq. “We’ll spread the 200 passengers over the four aircraft. We’re expecting a few more.”

“Extra Flight crew?” Bates asked, and then remembered, “Right, I’m handling that. I have some contacts at the airlines that can help select the right people.”

Turq added, “Assuming these are also destined for the Witness Protection Program, can you let me have their names when you can?”

Indigo added nervously, “There’s also the ground contact team. They need to know.”

Bates fixed him with a stare, “Sure. Ok. Moving on: Extra Hijackers?”

“That’s me, again,” said Turq. “I’ve got some extra names and documents from Hiijii. We need to fill their back-stories a bit more and mix the evidence trails. We have, uh, extra people turning up at each airport. They’re the patsies for the Rainbow Actors.”

Planner sighed, “Patsies for patsies. Is that going to work?”

“Sure,” Turq said nonchalantly. “I’ve done it before in Africa. The Chinese do it all the time. I’ll be at Boston^50 to coordinate the switch onto 175 and make sure it runs smoothly.”

“Ok,” said Planner. “Once you have everything, tell Hiijii to leave the country, ok?”

“Right,” said Turq and raising her eyebrows added, “He won’t need telling twice.”

Bates said, “Next action concerns the airlines. Are the contacts aware?”

“Yes,” said Turq. “They’ll keep a lid on things until the second crash.51”

“If they can delay alerting the third and forth aircraft too. That would give us more room to operate,” suggested Planner.

“Sure,” said Turq.

Bates typed into his laptop, before raising the next action, “Physical evidence? Indigo, how’s that going?”

“We have the plans for the evidence trail,” stammered Indigo nervously. “From credit card purchases, letters in the motel, in the trash can, and luggage left in the hire car; flight uniforms, a will, flight manuals^52 53…”

“Yes, I know about that,” interrupted Bates with a fake smile. “The action was on the physical evidence at the crash sites.”

“We have four hijacker passports,” Indigo stuttered and added nervously, “One for each site. But that’s probably too many.”

“Two would be plenty. Damaged, of course,” suggested Planner.

“Yes. We’ve burnt through a dozen to get it just right,” Indigo said with a jittery smile. “We also have bandanas and box cutters to add in.”

“Keep it simple,” Planner mused. “A single bandana will do.”

“Right,” said Indigo and gaining more confidence continued, “Obviously, we’ll also be collecting personal belongings. Wallets and watches from the passengers when they change identity. We’ll add that to the crash recovery pile.”

“Remember to tell the Stage C team about that. What about… um… body parts?” Planner said pursing his lips.

“Well,” said Indigo and he became nervous again. “As long as all the DNA sampling takes place by our labs, particularly the military lab in Washington, then… then… this will not be a problem.54 We’ll introduce the WITSEC personnel DNA into the analysis to provide that evidence trail.”

“And hijacker DNA?” asked Turq.

“Can we get additional middle-eastern samples? It doesn’t have to be from the actual hijackers,” added Bates helpfully.

“Sure,” said Indigo, taking notes.

“And al-Qaeda’s statement of responsibility?”

Indigo looked around to Lilac, a thick-set, forty year blonde woman, who said in a high voice, “I’m working on that. We are working with the Insurgent Liaison Team on the wording. We have some audiotape supplied by Hiijii, but we’re not too happy about it at the moment. We’re re-editing it.55”

Planner nodded.

Bates said, “Ok. There’s an action here on getting data for the flight data recorders.56”

There were no takers for this action so Planner said, “Pass that action over to Colonel Purple. He should be able to get the data off one of his computers.57”

“Final action I have here is the TV news script,” said Bates.

“That’s being compiled by Violet. She’s off sick today,” said Indigo. “It’s being progressed with one of the other operations, I believe.”

“Oh? Well ok. Just make sure we keep it simple,” said Planner. “No stewardesses found tied up in the wreckage^58^59, or anything like that.”

* * * *

Planner’s schedule was hectic but he was keen to fit another meeting in with Colonel Nicholas.

Nicholas welcomed Bates and Planner into his new New York office. He had moved up from Langley the previous week. Apparently the poster of the jet-fighter-in-the-cage logo did not follow him to WTC7 and his office seemed bare without the posters and bookshelves he had at his old office. The plain painted room housed just a white board, desk and laptop computer.

“How’s it going?” asked Planner.

Sitting on his desk, the Colonel replied, “We’ll be having the biggest Global Guardian exercise^60 ever. So much so, that the Russians have stepped up their exercises too, which means…”

Bates finished off the sentence, “More aircraft needed to spy on their exercises?”

“Precisely,” beamed Nicholas. “So what can I help you with, Gentleman?”

“Options for the targets, the number of aircraft, the number of drones,” said Planner. “I presume you’ve been over this before. There’s been some debate on whether we save some money by reducing the number of real 757s and 767s in favor of a pre-existing military drone and some cover-story work in Stage C.”

Nicholas sighed. “Well, in the early days of planning I was told to reduce costs. It doesn’t apply now, with all the deadlines approaching. But I was caught in some crossfire from the top: save money, while at the time, the number of operations was increasing. As you know, my health suffered. There are only so many 16 hour days in a row you can do, without collapsing.”

“Indeed, we’re feeling the pressure already ourselves,” said Planner, but Bates gave a haughty look; he was apparently untroubled by the pace.

“I had to speculate on a number of different scenarios: real aircraft, with real people killed; airliner drones, with and without real passengers; or some cheaper drone with computer generated imagery or other means of story substantiation,” explained Nicholas.

“What did you conclude?” asked Planner.

“I stuck my heels in. I insisted on real airliner drones but without real passengers. It was the most expensive option. Faking deaths apparently is much more expensive than actually accepting collateral damage,” sighed Nicholas.

“Yes, I know about these costs,” said Bates. “A real death is estimated at $1million. That’s the insurance pay out. For a fake death, it is still $1million insurance, plus $1million as payment to the faker, plus anywhere up to a $1million on administration, WITSEC, etc. So three times more expensive.”

“The real money, though, is spent on the airliner drones,” said Nicholas. “An airliner is typically $80million. And a drone version is another $20million. Plus slush money, another $10 million. If you substitute an old military aircraft as the drone, there’s a ton of money to be saved. Well, I refused, as I said. Didn’t go down well with the higher-ups,” he confided.

“So is that still your recommendation?” asked Planner.

“Well, actually,” said Nicholas slowly. “I did come up with a plan that saved 25 % that you might be interested in. The COG never got to see it before I moved over full time to Operation Nicholas. At the very least, the options paper may be useful for Stage C PsyOps. I’ll send it to you…”

“Can I have a copy too?” said Bates red-cheeked.

Nicholas fixed him with a stare, “No problem,” he said, although clearly it was.

* * * *

The following Monday, Planner did not fly to New York. He picked up Bates and Turq mid-morning from CIA HQ at Langley and drove 50 minutes to Fort Detrick, a giant military establishment, the headquarters of U.S. Army Medical Research And Materiel Command^61. Within the gatehouse, with the motto “Protect, Project and Sustain” was prominently displayed. They lined up to pass through security under the watchful gaze of two fully armed guards.

Planner received a text on his cell phone. It said, “I had a great time last week. Are you free this evening? The jerks may be giving me time off again. Katherine.”

The first guard barked brusquely, “Sir, all cell phones are to be switched off and put into lockers.”

“Right, of course,” said Planner.

Planner, Bates and Turquoise turned to see a row of lockers and put their bags and cell phones into them.

Finally it was their turn to pass through the arch of the metal detector. Turq pointed to her case, “I’ll need to take this.” The case was successfully passed through a metal detector.

They approached the desk where the burly receptionist had just finished dealing with other visitors. The receptionist was as broad as he was high, he could have been a retired Police Officer; he certainly had the manner of man used to dealing with crowds. “Can I just get you to sign in, Sir?” he said in a deep, gravelly voice.

The receptionist offered a logbook to sign but Planner handed him a letter. With just a glance at the letter, the receptionist hastily pulled the logbook away, unsigned. In a loud whisper, he said “Ah. Yes, Sir. We’re expecting you. Um, could you wear these badges, perhaps, Sir?” He pushed over three “Unescorted Visitor” passes and waved at the second guard. “Guard,” he boomed again. “Please show these gentlemen to Block 5.”

The guard saluted and kindly offered the door to exit gatehouse.

* * * *

In Block 5, they met Malcolm, a microbiologist in his late fifties with a short, gray beard, wearing a tieless, short-sleeved shirt and slacks. He welcomed Planner, Bates and Turq into a clean, bare office. They shook hands and sat around a bare metal table.

“It is good for you to see us at such notice, Malcolm,” said Planner.

Malcolm laughed. “Well, I didn’t really have much choice about that. The chief cleared my diary and said I needed to be here.”

“I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you too much,” said Planner.

“Just a flight re-arrangement, no problem really. I think I was just surprised. It’s a bit of a sleepy hollow around here. We’re not used to Executive Directives,” he continued jovially.

“I assume you have only been informed verbally?” Planner asked.

“Um, yes, just from my boss,” confirmed Malcolm.

“Good,” said Planner, “Because this visit and this discussion is Top Secret Strap-3. The codeword is Bald Eagle.”

Turq took a document from her briefcase. “This is just a formality, could you sign here, please?”

Malcolm took the document and quickly scanned it. “This is just a standard non-disclosure agreement,” he said. “What am I not to disclose?”

“After you sign, we can tell you,” smiled Turq.

Malcolm returned Turq’s gaze while taking out a pen from his jacket. He scanned the paper again and then signed. Turq took back the document.

“Thank you, Malcolm. Sorry for the formality but you’ll understand our caution shortly,” soothed Planner. “What we discuss here must not be repeated to anyone. Refer any inquiries to this number.” Planner wrote down a number in his filofax and tore off the sheet to give to Malcolm.

“Ok,” said Malcolm looking at the number uncertainly.

“We’re here to secure material for an urgent operational requirement. It is a matter of National Security,” said Planner.

“I assumed as much. By material, you mean a biological agent, right?” said Malcolm.

“Yes,” said Planner reluctantly.

“What kind?”

“Anthrax,” Planner said.

The scientist shook his head and sighed. “Really?”

“Yes. That’s our orders,” said Planner calmly.

Malcolm squirmed again before settling into a reluctant professional attitude. “Well, I guess that’s what we’re here for,” he said deliberately.

“Well, we signed up for this sort of stuff, right?” Planner said.

“Perhaps you can describe the mission a bit,” Malcolm said with a sigh. “Anthrax, as you are probably aware, is a particularly nasty biological weapon but it can be delivered in a number of ways; it can be tuned for different objectives. Can you describe the mission to me in general terms?”

“Delivery by letter. It doesn’t have to be effective. Just recognisable as anthrax for a scare campaign,” said Planner.

Malcolm exhaled and appeared physically relieved. “How many letters?” he asked.

“Between 5 and 10,” said Planner.

“Ok. When do you want it?”

“Two months time. But sooner, if possible.”

Malcolm performed some mental calculations, “Hmm, I have a presentation I made up last fall for the Pentagon brass which might aid our discussion…”

Ten minutes later, Malcolm was projecting a set of powerpoint slides inside the darkened room. Malcolm was explaining the modification of anthrax with magnified images of spores. “We can weaponized the material in various ways for different delivery mechanisms and levels of lethality. We can mix various coatings onto the anthrax spores. Silica, for example, make the spores airborne so more likely to inhale and so can infect a large number of people. Other times you may want the spores to attach to just a single person and it can be personalised by various chemical attractants. Others chemicals provide a catalyst to aid absorption to effect its lethality. We can add a chemical to speed the absorption through the lungs, which pretty much guarantees death within two days. However that is not fast enough for some objectives so there are other chemicals that promote absorption through other areas, the nasal lining, for instance. That kills much more rapidly. So you can see there is quite a few variations. Do you have a preference?”

“Not really. We will not require the most lethal variant but can you mix it up?” said Planner.

“Sure. We can provide, say, 10 separate sachets with handling and disposal instructions^62,” said Malcolm.

“Can you provide the instructions verbally? We do not want any written document, no requisition forms, no delivery notes, no instruction notes. We don’t want anything to track back to us,” Planner said.

Malcolm switched the lights on and sighed. “Ah. That may be a problem. Not on the writing side, that’s easy enough. But as for traceability, there may be a problem. You see, each Anthrax spore has a unique DNA signature. All the US controlled anthrax can be traced back to one or other of the labs. Sometimes down to individual batches.”

Planner looked from side to side, to Turq and Bates.

“What would we need to do make the spores untraceable?” mused Bates.

“We could destroy the batch records… um… take the sample from a known strain and then destroy all details of the records”, pondered the scientist. “For example, we have a library of anthrax spores over at the CDC at Iowa State University. We could use one of their strains and then lose the records^63.”

“Would that do it?” asked Bates.

“Possibly. You’ve may have moved it into plausible deniability. You wouldn’t be able to fool an expert in the matter, though.”

“This must be a pretty narrow field of expertise,” observed Planner.

“Oh, it is,” said the scientist. “There is probably less than twenty people in the whole of the USA that know one end of an anthrax spore from the other.”

Bates looked over towards Planner and Planner nodded. They knew that their psyop memes were cultivated in the space between facts and opinion, and anything that was a shade of gray could made either black or white as far as the public consensus was concerned.

Chapter Seven: Carrot

Planner, Bates and Turq flew back to New York early evening.

Onboard the aircraft, sitting in the first class cabin next to Turq with Bates across the other side of the aircraft, Planner noticed the checklists used by the Flight Attendants checking passengers onto the aircraft.

Turq noticed Planner grinding his teeth, “Something wrong, Boss?”

Planner shifted uncomfortably on his seat, as he casually looked around to make sure that no-one could hear him; there were few other passengers in First Class. “I’m just wondering about the back stories of the passengers and crew?”

Turq said incredulously, “You want me to go through that now? Each one?”

Planner grimaced, “No, no-no. I was wondering how about the relationships between, say, friends and relatives and media. How is that being handled? Especially if the media gets too interested in the victims… or if any of the relatives are contacted. I’m just trying to stop blowback. It’s ok, we won’t be overheard.”

Turq looked around and sprung her manicured fingers together clearly irritated, “It’s against protocol to talk about this outside the office.”

Planner gave a wry smile.

Turq huffed then preceded to explain, “Well, we have three classes of, er… legends^64 for both passenger and crew. First, are the virtual. These are new identities, created from our covert operations department so they will have the right backgrounds, tags and history. The department creates these identities at consistent rate for CIA field operatives. It’s a slow process and we do not want to alert them of our demand so it has remained slow. Fortunately they have a backlog of unused identities and we have grabbed that pile. Secondly, we have er… staff wishing to transfer into WITSEC. There is only limited scope to expand the numbers going into that program; it is already max-ed out. Thirdly we have innocents, people that will be caught up in events. We’re proposing to harvest victims…” Turq looked around to make sure no-one could hear, “…from road traffic accidents. Apparently this method has been used before, I’m not familiar, as yet, on the hand-over process between ambulance crew and airport staff. So in answer to your question; the media need to be diverted from the virtual victims, the relatives need to be managed for the WITSEC victims. But the key to Stage C, will be the innocents; they will be the main method of distraction. They will provide the cover that the other identities will effectively hide behind.”

Planner cleared his throat, “So that was plan? Take road traffic victims?”

Turq said, “Sure. Have our own ambulance and clean up crew to pick up the innocents from the roadside and transport them to the airport. I’ll be there to load them into the aircraft. Hack their email accounts and send a note to friends and family: hey we’ve decided to go off on vacation. Or use voice actors to leave messages. Load the bodies into the drones or take DNA samples and dispose rest as biohazard.”

“This’ll all be done the day or two before the Big Event?” asked Planner.

“Yes,” said Turq, transfixing Planner with one of her hypnotic stares.

“I think we need a better plan,” said Planner tartly.

* * * *

Planner returned to his hotel room. As soon as he entered, he dropped his travel bag on his bed and put his brief case on the desk. He unlocked his case and extracted his pack of sim cards. He inserted a new sim-card into his cell phone and dialled a number.

“It’s Robert. The material is secured. It will be with us in a few weeks.”

“Excellent,” said the Lodge Master.

Planner explained the bare bones of the meeting they had earlier in the day.

“You need to make an association between the Rainbow Actors and the material,” said the Lodge Master. “Make sure that a couple of them have a minor infection and have it treated; this will build the evidence trail.”

“Right,” said planner.

There was obviously something in Planner’s tone of voice because the Lodge Master said, “You seem tense, Robert. Is everything all right with you?”

After a minor hesitation, Planner said, “I’m worried about uncoordinated aspects of the plan. They er… may affect the overall storyline and objectives.”

“I’m not following you, Robert,” said the old man.

“I’m talking about inconsistencies in our story and Loose Ends, Sir.”

“Loose ends?”

“Yes,” said Planner.

“Robert, I admire you dedication and attention to detail,” said the Lodge Master. “But really inconsistencies are not a problem. And will not be a problem. To the people in the know it will be our signature. Take, for example, JFK’s magic bullet^65 in Dallas. It was cogently explained by one our experts and now stand outs like a trophy on our wall. The public are content with the story provided by the politicians and the media, even as the experts argue over details.”

“I know we have our gatekeepers and I worry needlessly,” said Planner.

“No, continue to worry about loose ends, Robert,” encouraged the Lodge Master. “Do the best you can but realise we will manage the inconsistencies and no blame will be attached to anybody. We do have the people to describe snow as black^66, and be believed.”

“Thanks for the pep-talk, Most Worshipful Master.”

“Speak to you soon, no doubt,” replied the old man.

Planner hung up, removed the sim-card and re-inserted the original sim-card. Planner destroyed the singlely-used sim-card and threw the remains away.

Then the cell phone rang. Planner looked at it surprised.

“Hello?” said Planner cautiously.

“It’s Katherine,” came the reply

“Hiiii!” said Planner with relief.

“You didn’t call me today!” mocked Katherine as a joke.

“Oh. Sorry. I…” Planner said, not too sure whether it was a joke or not.

“Just kidding,” she assured. “I know you’re busy. Just phoning to say that I can’t make it tonight.”

“Oh,” said Planner disappointed. He looked at his watch; it was 8pm.

“SEC seem to be getting into gear. We have a pre-trial hearing in October. We’re compiling the best evidence for the judicial review. So, we’re calling in pizza and working late tonight.”

“Yeah, pizza normally sorts these things out. Well, perhaps another time.”

“Definitely,” she said.

“But that’s great news, isn’t it? You’re going to get the jerks?”

“It looks that way. But you know what I heard today? Enron Execs are known as the Smartest Guys in the Room! That made me feel ill. Daylight robbery being described as smart. Just because they don’t have a mask and a gun in their hand…”

“Hiding in plan sight,” observed Planner. “It’s a common method of camouflage. It happens all the time.”

“It does?”

“Sure. Tell me, Katherine, can I try a little thought experiment?”

“Are you going to prove your point?”

“Probably not,” said Planner, thinking it probably was not going to be a good idea.

“Sure. Go on.”

“So JFK. Did Oswald shoot JFK? Was he the Lone Gunman?”

“Hmm, I’m not too sure what you are getting at, but yes. I saw the NBC special on it. Yeah, he was,” she said.

“So have you heard of Oswald’s magic bullet?”

Katherine started laughing, “No. Wow, Robert, I didn’t know you were into conspiracy theories?”

“Ok. End of experiment,” he said.

“I hope it worked! Sorry I’ve got to go. You can explain it to me another time, it sounds complicated. Speak to you tomorrow, I hope.”

“Ok,” he said, feeling foolish. “I look forward to it. Bye.”

* * * *

This was to be a busy day: Bates had lined up visits to three operations: Carrot, Hollywood and Las Vegas. Fortunately they were all in the same building.

He arranged to meet the Carrot representatives, Melvin and Jenny, in a small office within WTC7 at 8.00am alone since Bates had already met the Carrot team and felt he was more gainfully employed setting up the other two meetings of the day.

Melvin, mid-fifties, black suit, and Jenny, ginger-haired, late-thirties, smart scarlet business suit, made an excellent impression, as if they were selling a billion dollar business deal rather than a billion dollar disaster. After efficient introductions, and fifteen minutes of discussion, Melvin stood, pen in hand, by a matrix of numbers on a whiteboard.

Planner recapped what he just heard, “So you’re telling me that BE2 will be self financing. From untraceable bond sales, sale of gold and silver, and from the stock market^67?”

“Partly,” Carrot smiled. “The current funding is all through DoD. That is a sunk cost. The bond sales, also a sunk cost, we just need to make them untraceable for political reasons. No, the bonus values are from stock trading and precious metal sales. You’ll need to talk to Operation Vegas about insurance recovery. That’s excluded from Carrot calculations. That’s an important boundary line between the two operations,” said Melvin getting into increasing levels of digression, before returning to his main point. “No what I was pointing out was that all Phase C operations will be financed from these bonus funds. Phase A and B will be covered by DoD budgets…”

“But basically,” interrupted Planner again. “It will build up a huge cash fund to finance the aftermath.”

“Yes. Basically,” smiled Melvin with a fake smile.

“Who will administer the fund?” said Planner, making some notes in his filofax.

“It will continue to be administered from this unit,” said Melvin matter-of-factly. “But Operation Carrot is not solely a gravy train for internal participants. There are not just incentives…”

“…there is also some stick”, interrupted Jenny smoothly. She exhibited a broad red-lipped smile with eerily white teeth.

“Stick?” asked Planner.

“Disincentives,” she replied with edge. “For participants both internal and external, we have a treatment plan to modify unsupportive behaviour.”

“I’m familiar with Psychological Operations^68, media campaigns aimed at communities, but I haven’t seen it applied down to an individual level,” said Planner. “So how does that work?”

“Computers systems enable us this fine control,” smirked Jenny. She stood and went to the whiteboard as if to give a lecture. Melvin cleaned off his figures and sat down. “I presume you have come across CRM? Customer Relationship Management software?”

“Sorry, no,” said Planner.

“I guess not your speciality,” she said, twisting on her hips in a rocking motion. “It is standard off-the-shelf software in the business world, used to provide better customer service, ha-ha,” she explained with little mirth, but obvious enjoyment. “CRM is used to figure out whether a company’s advertising and marketing is working and sales are being generated. It was able to spot trends and types of people: drive customer demand with targeted marketing messages and identify high-value customers… and make them loyal. Oh what qualities,” she sighed. “Well it wasn’t long before these tools were being used in other areas. They were just what were required for managing offenders on probation! CRM became Criminal Relationship Management systems. And so it was soon being used by probation agencies. And then by prisons for managing inmates as part of their panopticon…”

“And now to determine the success of covert operations?” concluded Planner.

“Indeed. We could call it a Covert-agent Relationship Management system. After all, they are high value and we want them loyal. We can measure whether our marketing campaign has worked. Rather, whether our indoctrination has worked; you can thank Edward Bernays for the overlap between marketing and propaganda^69.” She laughed to herself again before continuing. “So we can start with a standard CRM product; enact a generic or even specific management plan; specific to individuals. We do actually called them treatment plans,” she said and paused to look for a reaction from Planner.

“How does it work?” continued Jenny rhetorically since Planner was silent and merely twirling his pen, “Say we have a journalist that, for example, is challenging the official story of the Event… First he is guided by a generic treatment plan, a series of gentle reminders pointing out the error of his ways perhaps, how it goes against advertising sponsors, editorial guidelines and so on which escalates upwards.” She wrote “Reporter” on the whiteboard and a zigzag to represent a staircase. She continued, “So for journalists, if soft measures like the authority of their bosses doesn’t work, then the subject goes onto hard-measures: maybe a career change…” She then drew two further zigzag staircases and underneath wrote “Spy” and “Politic”. “There is an escalation process, for each profession.” For the staircase marked “Politic” she removed some of the steps. She said with conviction, “We find simple bribery works best for politicians, but other people are less predictable, so we escalate up the steps, with job loss, marriage, health… and so on, until we achieve the desired outcome.”

“Up to the maximum… sanction,” asked Planner carefully.

“There’s a risk assessment process. The greater the risk, the more persuasion will be applied. But, yes, up to the maximum sanction. The good news being if the participant changes his, or her, ways, they’ll immediately be rewarded. This works like a pavlovian reaction, 99 % of the time…”

“I thought it only worked for dogs,” sighed Planner. “Ah well, we live and learn. And the one percent?”

Jenny looked at Planner directly. “Actually it is much, much less than one percent. But yes, the exceptions…” she grimaced and acted out a chop across the neck.

* * * *

Planner returned to the Rainbow office and went to Bates’ cubicle in the open plan section of the office.

“How did that go?” asked Bates, looking up from his laptop.

“Disconcerting,” replied Planner.

“Why’s that?”

“More cancer to fight cancer,” said Planner.

They hushed as workmen walked past, carrying a ladder and tools.

“We should talk over lunch,” said Bates. “We have Operation Hollywood to visit and then the rest of the afternoon with Las Vegas team.”

Chapter Eight: Hollywood

In the Hollywood office Planner and Bates shook hands with a spiky blonde haired thirty-something man wearing large glasses. On the wall was a large poster for the “Pearl Harbor” movie.

“Hi, I’m Planner.”

“Bates.”

“I’m Nigel. Hi. Thanks. Do sit down,” said Nigel nicely in a British accent.

“Hopefully we won’t take up too much of your time,” said Planner.

“Thanks. All the noise in the office stops us from recording master tapes so we are just rehearsing at the moment. I really am a scriptwriter. Just finished on Pearl Harbour… Ben Affleck…” said Nigel, pointing to the poster.

“Right. Good for you,” said Planner slightly dismissively. “Can you take me back to the original objectives of this mission?”

“Well,” smiled Nigel. “In general, the team here work with some of the best writers in Hollywood to provide narrative and context to the agency’s staged events.”

Planner raised his eyebrows.

“So like TV news reports?” asked Bates.

“No, they can be stilted or ad-libbed. No, our services are used for naturalistic dialogue, such as the demands and threats from the hijackers.”

“Everyone sit down. We are returning back to the airport,” suggested Bates, in a parody of a Middle-eastern accent.

“Yes, just like that,” said Nigel with a fake smile.

“So where are you with your work?” asked Planner.

“Our task expanded a couple of months ago. I presume you know about the problems with the fourth target? The Capitol Building? There were problems with that,” Nigel signalled upwards, “from above.”

“Oh?” Planner said returning the fake smile.

“Yes. We’re the replacement operation for the forth target.”

Bates narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah…” Nigel realised he was not receiving good vibrations from his visitors. He perked up hoping to improve rapport. “A big mix up, I understand. I was at this screening when a good friend of mine…”

Planner interrupted smoothly, “Can you tell us why there were problems?”

Nigel maintained his broad fake smile, “Problems with the fourth target? Three reasons really. There was an expectation that the fourth target was going to be the Capitol Building. Apparently the-powers-that-be wanted to pass a bill after the Big Event? While the President could have passed the bill as an edict, it was felt there could be push-back. It could be seen as all dictatorial,” said Nigel with air-quotes. “You know, so best let congress and the senate do it. It would seem normal that way.”

“And the other reasons?” said Planner.

“The generals,” said Nigel with a salute. “The air force generals… didn’t like Washington being seen as undefended against two civilian aircraft. Even one makes them look pretty bad.”

“Hmm. Right. Third reason?”

“Technical. The capitol building is quite a small target, you need to weave around the Washington monument and so on, so they needed to fix extra radar…”

Planner interrupted, “Yes, I know about this. You need high fidelity radar coverage and military mode GPS to reliably hit the target. It’s not so easy in Washington to accommodate the extra kit.”

“Is that what you did in New York?” Bates asked Planner as an aside.

“Yes. The technical stuff is my forte,” said Planner.

“It’s not mine,” volunteered Nigel with a laugh. “So as I was saying, I was brought in a few months ago to bring out a… narrative. The seeds of hope to rise from the despair…”

“Is this one of the psychologist’s ideas?” said Bates sardonically.

Nigel points to himself, “Er, no. It was mine actually. I was thinking: how would the Big Event be made into a movie? We needed drama. So while I was attending the rushes of the Pearl Harbour movie… I was thinking: how do I make a movie from this? What thread would I take? And obviously the strongest dramatic theme is the hijacking… and what would happen if, on one of aircraft, the last one,” Nigel made some fists, “the passengers fight back!”

“Sounds a bit fanciful. I understand the Air Force wanted to take credit for stopping the fourth plane,” Planner said.

Bates turned to Planner in surprise. “Where did you hear that?”

“That’s unofficial,” smiled Planner. Focusing back to Nigel, “So, the plane crashes en route to Washington. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“There’s a lot of plot details,” Nigel said but his voice trailed off realising that he was not impressing either Planner or Bates.

“So is this team of Hollywood writers all indoctrinated?” asked Planner.

“No,” said Nigel carefully. “No, they basically act as a think tank and we just take some of their ideas away. But they do benefit. They often go off and write something akin to the agency’s own plot scenario which often makes it to the screen^70. There is quite a bit of quid-pro-quo.”

“You have the passenger details?” asked Bates.

“I think so. Are more coming through?” asked Nigel.

Planner interrupted by pointedly looking at his watch, “Ok, thanks. Good luck with the plot details. Sorry, I’ve another appointment. Thanks for your time.”

Bates was surprised when Planner stood up, shook Nigel’s hand and left the room. Bates did the same but at the door, Bates paused and asked Nigel, “So how is this movie story ever going to be discovered? Written notes found in the wreckage? Cockpit voice data recorder?”

“Voice recorder?71 Right. Good one. Must do that. No, the story will be relayed by passengers”, said Nigel. “It’ll be an Orson Wells World-of-the-Worlds-type production. Different viewpoints from people crouching in the isles, in the loos, using their cell phones^72.” Nigel used a phone call gesture.

Bates nodded and smiled and continued out the door.

* * * *

Bates and Planner grabbed their Pastrami, Rye and Pickle sandwiches in the canteen and returned back to Planner’s private office.

“So Hollywood? Unimpressed?” said Bates.

“You could say that,” said Planner.

“I was saying that,” said Bates, taking his first bite.

Planner finished chewing and said, “I think we have a disaster on our hands.”

Bates swallowed, “Yes. That’s the idea.”

“We’re developing a byzantine, gothic horror… soap opera of a disaster! It’s not going to be believed,” grumbled Planner and bit into his sandwich again.

“We can scrap the whole Passenger Revolt storyline,” suggested Bates.

“No,” said Planner. “No-one will ever hear about it, just let sleeping dogs lie on that. I guess it’s the Carrot and Stick operation that’s bugged me.”

Planner outlined the earlier discussion he had had, particularly, with Jenny. They decided she was one of the “Psychologists” that had been frequently referenced.

“I’ve just had this vision of Stick Men^73,” continued Planner. “Going around bumping off journalists and other do-gooders, by the score, since the back-story just isn’t that strong and just so implausible; it’s going to look so obvious.”

“Well, I presume you’ve seen the computer models, the ones modelling public reaction to BE2?” said Bates.

“The Change Readiness Models^74?” said Planner with a laugh. “Changing the political atmosphere? It’s all done with a modicum of science, some statistics, a Cray computer and a lot of wishful thinking,” he said dismissively. “If the storyline is not believed, by say N percent of the population, then with just a few tweaks to the parameters of the model, you’ll get a completely different outcome. In reality, if the story isn’t believed, the only atmosphere that this event will create… is revolution. There could be riots in the streets.”

“I don’t think that is going to happen. That’s very pessimistic: I thought you were a radiator not a drain?75 You’ve said yourself that we don’t have investigative journalists anymore. We’ll be framing the rhetoric.76”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” mused Planner. “It’s not just journalists anymore. There’s academics, scientists… Have you ever looked in any history books lately?”

“People don’t read history books! They watch television,” mocked Bates.

“What about the History channel?” said Planner.

“Only shows world war two,” said Bates sarcastically.

Chapter Nine: Las Vegas

Planner and Bates walked to Operation Las Vegas Office. As for other offices, nothing on the outside revealed what was inside. Just as they were about to go inside, following on from their previous conversation, Bates added another information channel, “And the internet. Don’t forget the internet!”

Planner’s eyes widen with realisation; the internet formed an uncontrolled medium of information dispersal especially compared to newspapers, television and radio where partisan gatekeepers “managed” the news. Planner had not kept with changes in technology; he had toyed with the internet at home over slow dial up lines but the internet was not available at Langley or other CIA offices due to the threat of hacking by foreign intelligence services.

Before Planner thought through the issue, he was being introduced to a stream of new people, all smartly dressed men that headed up the Las Vegas Team. They were code named, Paris, Venice, Sinatra, Casino and Cowboy.

Planner’s mind wandered while Sinatra set up a powerpoint presentation on the construction of the World Trade Center Towers, thinking about the internet and whether that had been factored into the information dispersal parameters of the Change Management Readiness model. So when Sinatra, a good looking, man in his late forties started talking about the towers’ deconstruction, it startled Planner.

Sinatra was saying, “…Dual redundant, fibre optic and wireless controlled detonators attached to the core columns installed during the elevator upgrade^77…” when Planner interrupted.

“Can I just stop you there, a moment!” Planner said, attempting to reconstruct the discussion from his distracted short-term memory. “Let me get this straight… we’re planning to blow up the whole of the world trade center?”

Paris replied with a slight French accent, “Naturally. It is the quickest way to clear the site and start regeneration.”

Casino added directly, “The management are in a hurry.”

“For the insurance to pay out, there must be complete destruction,” said Venice with an Italian lilt.

“Insurance? Really!” Bates said unconvinced.

“Two billion dollars^78,” Venice explained with understatement. “Some people consider that to be a lot of money.”

“Don’t you think that blowing up the towers might look a bit… odd?” Planner mused.

“No, no, no. This isn’t just any old Las Vegas Hotel destruction; it has been carefully thought out,” Sinatra explained.

“…By experts,” noted Paris.

Sinatra continued smoothly, “We have 3D computer models of how it would look. Advanced models. We can show you… how the aircraft would destroy key columns, the inferno, collapse initiation, everything. Run the video.79^80”

A few minutes later, Sinatra ran rough computer model projections of aircraft flying into towers cutting columns and the building collapsing. Sinatra then pointed to a schematic of the North Tower. “When we finally bring the tower down, the floors will be weakened by cutter charges all activated by computer and signalled to cell-phone detonators. Then the top floor will fall. Starting from close to the point of impact. Then the rest of the building will be blown out, straight down. It’ll look like a hammer knocking a nail, all the way to the ground.” Sinatra replayed the video showing the top section falling through the floors.

When the lights came back on, Planner asked, “And both towers will do this?”

“Yes, both towers,” replied Venice. “And the towers fall on the smaller buildings. We need WTC 3, 4, 5 and 6, all destroyed. There is a lot of value there that needs to be lost or destroyed.”

“What needs to be destroyed?” asked Bates

“The Eldorado Task Force for a start!” said Venice.

“And they are?” Bates asked again.

“Their offices are in Building 6. They monitor international bank transfers. We have a lot of money to move, starting September 12th. It would be inconvenient to have it traced,” explained Venice with a sigh. “Now I know what you’re thinking… Collateral Damage. We’re on the case.”

“Go on,” said Planner.

“The towers will stand for one hour,” said Venice. “In which time the majority of the occupants, unfortunately not all, will be able to escape. It has to be just one hour, our fire simulations indicate that the fires will be burning out soon after that, even with the sprinkler system disarmed.”

“So how many people work in the World Trade Center?” said Planner pursing his lips.

“Fifty thousand,” said Vencie, adding quickly, “but… we expect less than 5 % casualties.”

“So how many is that?” asked Planner.

“Two and half thousand. The same number as Pearl Harbor,” said Venice.

Bates whistled in disbelief.

Casino added, “That’s an estimate, obviously. And much lower than the estimate for 1993, with the FBI’s failed attempt on the towers.81”

“So is that with or without the advanced warning of the attack?” said Planner.

“We could not find a satisfactory scenario”, said Casino slowly and deliberately, “working with the COG, that would support the warning and pre-evacuation of the World Trade Center complex.”

Sinatra nodded, “We have promised the politicians a catalysing event with real er… motivational value; a critical mass…”

Paris shrugged, “The psychologists say we need a New Pearl Harbor^82^83. To trigger an unforgettable memory, flashbulb memory, as it is known. More than just an air crash. There’s an air crash every month^84.”

Planner almost said something but thought better of it. Bates took up the questioning. “I suspect that… the Emergency Services… may be over-represented in that figure,” pondered Bates.

Casino said bluntly, “The building will be shaking for an hour. People will be expecting the building to fall. We’ll radio the emergency crew to pull out.”

“What about flashes? Bangs?” Planner mused. “Explosives are rather different from a natural collapse. Wouldn’t that cause a lot of… er… questions? It’s bound to be caught on camera.”

Cowboy shifted forward in his seat, smiled broadly and said in western-style accent, “Caught on camera. Yes, exactly that’s what we’re planning. But that’s a good point you’re making. Very good. This is my area of concern and I can assure you, we have the very best people working on the tower collapses.” Cowboy transfixed Planner with his gaze, “Let me ask you something. What do you know about nanotechnology?”

“Nothing,” said Planner rather taken aback, “Er… well… it’s like micro technology, maybe, but smaller?”

“Yeah, probably,” said Cowboy smugly. “But no. It’s all about molecular scale materials being able to build up complex structures thinner than paint…”

Planner involuntarily made a move to look at his watch.

Cowboy noted and responded, “I realise we’re all short on time. I’ll make it quick. Let’s just say we have developed munitions that are more powerful than anything we had, even 5 years ago, using nanotechnology^85. It’s works in the same way as thermite, ultra-hot demolition material used for years to slice through steel bridges. But updated for the 21st century. It’s called nanothermite and not commercially available anywhere. Only available to the military and rocket scientists. And it doesn’t flash, it doesn’t go bang. Just a swish. And burns up completely leaving no evidence behind.”

“Nothing behind?” said Bates in disbelief.

“There’s always tags, or some sort of chemical trace, to be found,” noted Planner.

“Why, yes. Yes, it does,” said Cowboy with a smile. “I’m just saying in comparison to traditional RDX explosive or even traditional thermite. Nanothermite explosive residue just breaks down into iron and aluminium dust. There would be nano-scopic traces of catalysing chemicals, if you were looking hard for it. And I mean, real hard.86”

“And if you were looking real hard?” pressed Planner.

Paris interrupted, “This is why we are not using US-made nano-materials. We are using explosives from France. It would be as good as untraceable.”

“France?” asked Bates amazed.

“Yes, the French,” said Paris with some Gallic pride, “through their space programme, the Arianne Five, have become the world leaders in nano-material technology since nano-materials are also used for solid rocket propellants.”

“So the material can be traced back to the French? Won’t that be a bit awkward? Diplomatically?” asked Planner.

Venice made a balancing gesture, “This is part of Operation Stage C. We appreciate that each nano-material is unique and can be traced back to its factory of origin, so we will be destroying the factory.”

“What? Isn’t that even worse? Diplomatically!” spluttered Bates.

Paris shrugged. “Already covered. And in any case, they needed a new fabrication plant… it had constrained capacity. The site is shared with a fertiliser company, the explosion will look like it originated there and will be blamed on the Middle East.87”

Cowboy added, “The point I’d like to make is… that we have considered Stage C and Stage C has affected our methods. We are leaving no stone unturned.”

Casino also added, “And we have contingency plans, as you’d expect for any Psychological Operation.”

Sinatra tapped on the white board, “I can show you the scripts of the TV newscasts we’re proposing both for BE2 and the documentary follow-ups. We have the drafts of the academic papers just here. We’re very serious about selling the story.”

“I don’t doubt the effort you’ve expended. I just think the objectives are… dubious.”

Casino had repressed some irritation in his voice, “A good point and while we could spend some time assuring you the objectives are worthy, we’re not here to discuss that aspect, ok? Just overlaps and clashes. Now… have we briefed you sufficiently, Mr Planner?”

Planner leant back and considered his response. “I need to analyse the timelines… and get back to you. I may have further questions.” Planner paused and Las Vegas team sat back, almost as-one with self satisfaction, waiting for a further response.

After what seemed like a long span, but was in fact, only a few seconds, Planner asked “Who’s organising the demolitions itself? Can I talk to whoever it is?”

Cowboy said, “Of course. That would be Mr Digger; a very diligent man. I’ll get him to call you.”

“That’ll be great. Thanks,” said Planner.

“When you can, please send the documentary and news scripts over to me,” added Bates.

“No problem,” beamed Sinatra.

* * * *

Planner and Bates were in the Hotel Bar discussing baseball; Bates was a Yankees fan and Planner preferred the Red Sox. They both agreed that the schedules that year was unbalanced, and the two teams were playing each other far too many times.

Planner received a text message from Katherine, it read “Sorry can’t make tonight either. Next week, perhaps?”

The conversation went quiet and Bates noting Planner’s grimace, decided to raise the subject of the previous meeting. “You appear to be remarkably quiet about the Las Vegas meeting. There’s a lot of issues there. Yet you seemed to be in such a rebellious mood beforehand too.”

“Hmm, I don’t really want to think about it,” sighed Planner. “Another case where they are not exactly Keeping It Simple. They were prepared for us. Too prepared. It seems they were expecting some push-back. Very slick. Did you notice how quickly they mentioned their top level cover in their pitch. I think we were being managed.”

“You may be right,” said Bates.

“Fucking dirty job we have. I’m not up to talking about it at the moment,” Planner finished his drink and glanced at the TV on the bar.

“Ok” said Bates.

“Anyway I have a phone call to make,” said Planner and rose from his seat.

“Planner, before you go,” said Bates gently, “I was thinking. It might be best, for the team, if we continue to include within the schedule, the advanced warning plan.” Bates was referring to the advanced warning of the attack on the twin towers discussed within the team to reduce collateral damage.

“But do something different on the day?” queried Planner.

“No, I’ll have the warning call directed to one of our own guys,” suggested Bates.

“A fake call to a fake recipient?” said Planner with half a smile.

“Well if you have a better idea,” shrugged Bates. “If we change the plan the team will find out soon enough. It may dampen morale.”

“You’ll sort that out?” asked Planner.

“Sure.”

“Ok. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Planner and left.

* * * *

Inside his hotel room, Planner inserted a new Sim-Card into his cell phone and dialled a number.

“It’s Robert.”

“Ah, Robert. I hear you’ve been having some productive meetings,” said the Lodge Master smoothly.

Planner wondered how he knew that. “I’ve reviewed all the operations except one,” said Planner. “Planning is well advanced in each one I’ve reviewed, although I feel that collectively there may be an issue.”

“Hmm. This is more of your Loose Ends, Robert?”

“I feel we are pushing into new territory in the complexity of the story we are weaving. We may be pushing various credibility barriers. It might generate resistance and discontent.”

“I understand, Robert,” soothed the Lodge Master. “We have identified a range of scenarios for the aftermath and have contingency plans for each. Take, for example, your point about the story not being believed leading to a backlash, a revolution even. Who do we really have to persuade? Everybody? No, that’s not going to happen. You know, and I know, that many people will see through the magic trick we have arranged. No, the only people we have to persuade are the Police and the Military and they get their opinions from the papers and TV and we control those channels.”

“Indeed, Most Worshipful Master, but information is not controlled solely by these channels anymore,” said Planner humbly.

“We’ve never relied just on the Press. I presume you appreciate our COINTELPRO^88 will ensure that we seed opposition groups with our men. To tackle the inevitable Conspiracy Theories,” he chuckled, “that will arise, we will flood channels with obviously our opinions and outlandish fake stories.”

“Disinformation^89?” suggest Planner.

“Indeed. If they reject our version of events then we’ll say that aliens did it.”

“Right,” replied Planner with half a laugh, realising the remark was a joke, but it was not very funny considering the number of times covert aircraft projects had been deliberately linked by the CIA to aliens from outer space. “So in other words, leave it to Stage C operations.”

“Indeed. I’m surprised, Robert, that I have to go over such matters with you.”

“I beg your worshipful master’s pardon. In my previous operations I had full control of the means and investigative control.”

“I do understand, Robert. However, our mission is clear. And we can manage the loose ends. We plan to manage those loose ends nicely… we’d all much prefer that way… but we can lose the kid-gloves, a much more unpleasant societal outcome. But it has to happen, otherwise a far more terrible future awaits America, you have to trust me on that. I presume you realise there are reasons why it has to happen this way and no other? Each objective for each mission leads to a higher-level goal set out by the COG. These goals can only be achieved using the plan enacted as it has been laid out.”

“Yes, Most Worshipful Master. I… realise,” said Planner chagrined.

“Good. You’ve been doing an excellent job especially the effort in keeping our narrative unsullied. We know it is unfair on the good and blameless Americans caught up in the maelstrom. That is unfortunate; the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. In any case, for every martyr we create, I believe we will be creating ten heroes; that is the nature of crisis. We can discuss this further in the face-to-face meeting next week in Washington; the End Stage Review.”

“Indeed,” said Planner subdued.

“Now I can announce the proposed date of the event, weather permitting, that is. Since all operations are now reporting green, we have brought the date forward, to the date originally proposed by PNAC last year…”

Planner finished the sentence, “September the Eleventh!”

* * * *

Planner dreamed of a plane crashing into World Trade Center south tower; with plane parts raining down onto the streets below, aluminium foil fluttering down like a street parade; there was an open top presidential limousine driving down the road with crowds cheering. It was JFK! Planner woke up with a start.

An hour and half later, at 8.35am, Planner was back in WTC7. Unlike the offices with vistas of New York, the area he found himself in what felt like a warehouse even though it was just a room in the interior of the building. It was located just above the floor that housed the Mayor’s Emergency Management Office — a specially constructed bunker designed, apparently without irony, to manage crisis events in New York.

Planner was meeting a short and casually dressed man in his sixties with deeply tanned, crinkly skin, possessing a strong Irish accent. He greeted Planner and led him deeper into the room. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Planner, I’m sure. Call me Digger.”

“Hi, thanks for calling,” Planner said. “I appreciate we haven’t much time.”

“What would you like to see?” said Digger waving his arm at the surrounding shelves, which went from floor to ceiling, each loaded with small oblong boxes.

“Not too sure,” said Planner. “Perhaps you could tell me about those color-coded packets?”

“They’re the detonators. We need to label each one and then send them to our subcontractor to load the appropriate payload and then place them in the towers.”

“There must be thousands,” observed Planner.

“There probably about a thousand. Let me show how it’ll be done. It’s all in the planning for big jobs like this. And for that you’ll need a computer.” Digger walked to a bank of computer terminals.

“This is our 3D model of the world trade centre complex,” he said pointing to a workstation displaying a 3D wireframe model.

“Nastran software^90. Know it well,” said Planner.

“You do? That’s splendid. It’s been the devil’s own job to get it work,” confessed Digger.

“It’s quirky,” said Planner. “But pretty good Finite Element Analysis. I’ve used it for aircraft structure stress analysis but not for buildings.”

Planner bent down to look more closely at the screen. It showed the framework of an otherwise transparent twin tower 3D model.

“Well, you and me both,” said Digger. “I used to do planning for these sort of things on the back of an envelope. This is new fangled to me. Perhaps you can give us some tips then?”

“Sure, no problem. I’ll give it a review. So what have you modelled?”

“We had a contractor to build the model. I can run it though and show a simulation of what we expect. Let’s start with the buildings: bomb-proof^91, hurricane proof, earthquake-proof^92. And yet we have to knock these buildings down and make it look natural. So Stage 1,” said Digger, pressing a button, showed an aircraft entering the twin towers, similar to the presentation Planner had seen the previous day. “The aircraft damages the exterior columns and a few interior columns. There’ll be a fireball. So Stage 2 will be fires. We can control the extent of the fires by, oh, you’ll like this, by the extent of the fire-proofing that has been applied to the WTC in recent years. For the North Tower, it is nicely bunched together, the South tower, hmm, not so much! But as you know, the fire won’t damage the steel core but we have to start the deformation, cutting the outer walls from the floors and so forth. So finally, we need, Stage 3, progressive weakening with explosives, to bring the buildings down.”

“Wireless detonation^93?” asked Planner.

“Wireless throughout and fibre optic cabling where we can, for redundancy. Belt and braces. It’s kind of expensive,” joked Digger.

“I hope you don’t get a wrong number to any of the cell phones,” mused Planner.

“We have a way around that. It’s quite secure. The red blobs, here,” he said, pointing to the computer screen, “indicate the locations of the explosive charges; actually, sol-gel^94 nanothermite charges, they’re new; which we release progressively to mimic a collapse process. First we weaken internally…” The computer screen showed animated explosions around the floors attached to tower core columns. “This is the stage 2, removing the lateral strength of the building but that won’t bring it down. We’re just cutting the outer edge sections. We have to cut and not explode this bit to keep the process hidden.” The computer showed cutting around the tower external columns. “Then soon after that, we blow the main columns from the impact point downwards to mimic a pile driver collapse.” The computer showed the blowing out the main internal columns and the 3D graphic structure tumbling down.

“That looks very convincing. What’s the time difference between the wall cutting and the column cutting?” asked Planner.

“Not long, we have to watch carefully and make sure the building does not start to warp. As soon as it loses shape, we lose control,” said Digger.

“Right. That’s great. But there’s a lot of new technology in there. Will it work?” said Planner.

Digger smiled. “We’ve tried it all out separately and together. It’ll work. The main problem we have… is the minimum amount of explosive to do the job. We have too much at the moment; the explosions could send debris over to New Jersey! But, of course too little explosives and the building may not come down at all.”

* * * *

Sometime later in his hotel room, Planner sat tinkering with the Nastran software on his laptop computer. He took a bite of a sandwich while running the simulation again. He had reduced the amount of explosives and only half of the building fell according to the simulation. Planner pulled an unhappy face.

Chapter Ten: Snow White

A few days later, Turq entered Planner’s office, carrying, very gingerly in front of her, a brief case. Planner looked up from his charts.

“Fort Detrick have delivered,” she said.

“In there?” Planner said incredulous.

“Yes. It’s safe,” said Turq unconvincingly as she held the case away from her body. “A dozen doses ranging from inert, two types of non-lethal and then… er… upwards. I’ve been given instructions. Verbally.”

“Wow”

“So shall I pass them over to the Eagle Team? I don’t want this hanging around,” said Turq.

Planner said, “Sure. But er… wait. Can you open it up?”

Turq set it down on the desk and delicately opened case. It had two combination locks. Inside the brief case were ten vials strapped to the case interior, each containing a gray powder. Each vial had a sticker with a hand written number.

“Which are the non-lethal?” asked Planner.

“The ones marked zero.”

“And there’s a minus one?”

“That’s inert,” said Turq. “Completely safe.”

“And the others are four, five and six?”

“That’s the expected body count,” sighed Turq.

Planner took a vial marked zero. “I have a favour to ask. Can you sprinkle some of the non-lethal material in the hijackers accommodation? To provide an evidence trail?95”

Turq at first did not accept the vial, “They’re in Florida,” she said.

“Right,” smiled Planner, still holding the vial outstretched.

Turq reluctantly took the vial, “I’ll need an excuse to go.”

Planner suggested, “To introduce the extra hijackers maybe?”

“More figments of our fevered imagination,” sighed Turq.

“Right. In the meantime, I’ll take this to Eagle. I presume I don’t have to sign for it,” said Planner.

“No,” said Turq dismissively. “Which reminds me… what do you want done with that non-disclosure form from Fort Detrick?”

Planner gave a half a smile, “Shred it!”

* * * *

As Planner walked from his office, Bates broke-off a conversation with another Rainbow Team member and ran to catch up with Planner.

“Turq says this is it,” said Bates, indicating the brief case, walking along side.

“Yes,” said Planner.

“Where are you storing it?” asked Bates.

“Taking it to Eagle.”

“There’s something you should know first,” said Bates.

Planner stopped and turned towards Bates, “Oh?”

“One of the Eagle team died last night,” said Bates

“One of the guys we met? Which one?”

“Yes, Brown. The complainer. Poor attitude,” Bates explained.

“How?” asked Planner.

“Lost control of his car going downhill. Just a few miles from his home,” said Bates.

“Uh… Uh,” Planner was unable to speak.

“Tough huh?” said Bates. “Well, I guess, after Princess Diana, brake failure is the new black.96”

“Uh… Uh,” Planner was still unable to speak as he made a connection and started to consider his wife’s death not as an accident but as an assassination.

“Are you ok?” said Bates worried.

Planner offered the brief case to Bates, “Can you take this?”

“To Eagle? Sure. Are you ok? Can I get you something?”

“Er… no. Can you…?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Bates took the case and hurried off.

Planner returned to his office and sunk down; head in his hands. Planner considered a murderous sequence of events surrounding the deaths of his wife and daughter; they drove down a sloping road; spied by an assassin, who takes over the steering by remote control; driving the car through a weaken barrier. Planner remembered the plans for such a devices in CIA archives; how, under radio command, it would activate by an explosive bolt to turn the wheel sharply and then lock the steering; made from plastic and designed to melt within its own self created fire, it would be undetectable to investigators; the perfect murder weapon. He visualised his wife struggling with the steering wheel and his daughter crying out, as it tumbled off the road; He visualised the car bursting into flames. Why would she be murdered? Was he the target? Was he being paranoid?

Bates returned promptly and touched Planner on the shoulder. Planner looked up surprised, having not heard him approach.

“All done,” said Bates.

“Thanks,” said Planner with effort.

“I told them to store it. We’d give them instructions on how to use the material later.”

“Good,” said Planner looking down again.

Bates said, “Are you ok? You look as though you had a bit of a turn?”

“Probably all the hotel food… mixed with the news you gave me. Seems to have upset my stomach.”

“Stomach? Right,” said Bates sarcastically. “That’s what it looked like.” Then Bates considered another thought, “Those vials were all sealed, weren’t they?”

“It’s not the anthrax,” said Planner, looking up.

“I think we should get you tested,” said Bates.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Well if you’re sure you’re sure, Ok. So are you ready for Snow White?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, seriously. Can you give me a minute and then we’ll be off,” said Planner, regaining his composure as Bates looked on with concern.

* * * *

Operation Snow White had the best offices of any of the operations. It looked more like a hotel lobby than an office. The North Tower of the World Trade Center dominated the view from the window.

Mr Snow looked like an aging diplomat, suited, slim with white hair. Snow was accompanied by Digger who looked out of place with the fine, white leather upholstered seating. Snow showed Planner and Bates to two such comfortable chairs. There was a map of the USA on the wall and a pile of Disneyesque cartoon characters in a pile on a low table.

“Yes, I’m Snow White,” he said smoothly. “But I don’t hang out in the woods and talk to birds.”

“Do you have to watch out in the Big Apple though?” joked Bates.

“Ha! Ha!” he laughed unconvincingly. “Only for the poisonous bits; I try avoid such places. Oh, and this is my operations man, Digger.”

Planner shook his hand “We’ve met. Have you been able to check out my suggestions on the Nastran model?”

“Indeed. Very useful, Mr Planner,” Digger said enthusiastically, as only an Irishman can. “We’ve been able to reduce the amount of explosive. Very useful.”

“And this is my Number One, Bates.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure.”

Bates shook his hand, “Likewise.”

Reaching into his brief case, Planner said, “I realise we haven’t much time, but before we get into details, I was just wondering whether you can outline your operational adjectives, since it seems to be the one mission where there is no written details.” Planner presented the blank page headed “Snow White” from his briefing pack.

“Yes, this operation is very sensitive,” said Snow. “It’s to do with The Names. Their stories, their locations.”

“Names?” asked Planner.

“Publically recognisable figures. They must never be linked with any aspect of the operation. So, of course, nothing in writing.”

“Secondly,” Digger added. “Snow White is about the destruction of all other information concerning the Big Event. Of all the operations, plans, data and other potential embarrassments. Leaving it snow-white, so-to-speak.”

“Quite a few precautions required there, I think,” said Planner.

“No. Not at all. It’s really quite simple,” said Digger.

“Really?” said Planner with furrowed brow. “Shredding and burning used to be the main options for destruction of paper records, but now with computers, data back-ups…”

Digger held out his hand. “Can I stop you there, Mr Planner? No, we’re proposing something much quicker, with much less paperwork.”

“Oh?”

“All the plans are here in WTC7, right?”

Planner nodded.

“So we just delete this building.”

“You’re going to blow up it?”

“Yes, we’re going to blow up the building. This building,” confirmed Digger, “Come the big event, it’ll come down along side the North Tower,” he said and pointing to the tower outside. “No-one will even notice it go down in the dust cloud. And along with it, all the paperwork and computers. Well, at least, all the data for Stages A and B.”

“Wow. That’s a surprise. Hmm. I think I understand the reason for the Las Vegas plan better now… And also the centralization of the planning into WTC7,” mused Planner. Then, with realisation, he said, “But what about the other tenants of the building? The mayor’s emergency office, for instance.”

“Yes. It’ll go too,” said Digger. “It won’t be used on the day obviously. Shame. Nice lot of computers and communications in there. But we’re able to re-use some of them to control the demolition.”

“I guess I thought that would be our control room,” said Planner.

Snow interrupted, “We have another planned.”

Planner looked at Bates. Bates smiled back broadly as-if he knew the plan.

“And the Securities and Exchange Commission?” asked Planner as another thought brought forth an epiphany.

“Yes, that too. In fact, that’s one of our primary targets within the building.”

“Enron…” said Planner involuntarily.

“You’ve heard about that too, eh? Yes, causing a few red faces with some Texan politicians, I hear. They want that tidied up,” said Digger cheerfully.

Planner fell silent.

“So is that the few billion I heard Snow White was about?” said Bates.

“That figure is probably deferred costs. It’s worth a lot of money to particular people. You know… not getting locked up,” smiled Digger.

“So what are the operations surrounding The Names?” asked Bates.

Snow walked over to the map. “These are to do with the first family and politicians. The seven dwarfs we’ve called them internally; inevitably, considering the code-name. We’ve run various scenarios and this is how we see it so far. Pardon me, if you find the associations seem less than diplomatic.” Snow picked up a pile of cartoon pictures and showed a picture of Dopey. “Firstly, the President. Obviously the President needs plausible deniability so has been kept away from detailed planning. He may look a bit incompetent hence the Dopey character. However we are sure this will only be transitory.”

Snow stuck the picture of Dopey to the map. “The President… will be in Florida. All he knows at the moment is strategy. He and his brother, Neil, will be at an elementary school promoting their No child left behind policy^97. After a brief TV appearance, the President will be taken to Offat Air Force base where we’ve arranged a meeting with Warren Buffet and the WTC CEOs.98”

Snow showed a picture of Sleepy and stuck it on the map. “His wife, Laura, also in the dark, will be with Teddy Kennedy in Washington, thus reassuring him that this Big Event won’t be yet another strike on the Kennedys.”

Snow showed a picture of Happy and stuck it on the map. “Jeb Bush is helping with Operation Rainbow Stage C; He’ll be retrieving the Rainbow actors’ flight school records, and other data, down in Florida.”

Snow showed a picture of Bashful and stuck it on the map. “Marvin Bush has been helping with various Operation Stage A’s through his association with the flight schools and companies overseeing the WTC and airport security. He wants to quietly disappear now. But we’re hoping that he’ll be able to do just one job for us on the day of the Big Event; ensuring the sprinklers are disabled within the WTC complex.99”

Snow showed a picture of Doc and stuck it on the map. “Bush Senior has kindly offered to host the Bin Laden family on the day and shield them from unnecessary public interest.100”

Snow showed a picture of Sneezy and stuck it off the edge the map. “Usama Bin Laden himself is in hospital in Pakistan; Kidney disease^101. We’re getting him a portable dialysis machine so we can get him out of our care. We control a series of sideshows here associated with the Saudi Royal Family. I won’t go into it… it does get quite messy… all Stage C activity.”

Snow showed a picture of Grumpy and stuck it on the map. “This is the code name for the re-arrangement of executive power. Anybody in the chain of command that could thwart the plan will be away; either out of the country, in LA or tied up on exercises. This leaves just the members of the COG in charge. They’ll be surrounded by other politicians and military staff, many of whom will not have been indoctrinated, and so they’ll have the job of keeping them in-check whilst also establishing their own alibis. The key person as far as transmitting our story will be Solicitor General, Ted Olson who will be receiving a call from his wife, Barbara, who is destined to fly on Flight 77.”

“Barbara Olson?” asked Bates. “Hell to Pay^102 and TV star, Barbara Olson?”

“Yes, the very same,” nodded Snow. “The psychologists have argued that we must tell our side of the story early and for it to come from a trustworthy source.103”

“And will she…?” asked Bates with his voice trailing off. He was asking whether she would be killed.

“Barbara Olson will cease to exist. No doubt she is already making other plans,” smiled Snow enigmatically.

Bates and Planner fell silent and all that could be heard was the air conditioning and in the far distance the sound of workman installing cables across the building.

Snow then flipped over the last picture, a picture of a fairy tale Prince. But he did not stick it on the map. Instead, Snow started to pace. “So all these guys are busy. Everyone has their orders but who’s running the show? There’s always mishaps, changes of plan and so forth. Who’s going to make sure it’s all going to go like clockwork from the control center? Who has the technical skills and a view of the Big Picture? Who could it possibly be?

Snow handed the Prince logo to Planner.

“Me,” said Planner flatly.

Snow smiled, “Could there be anyone else?”

Planner looked around to Bates and tried to smile. Bates beamed back.

Chapter Eleven: The Park

Planner was back home in Maryland. He had caught the crowded Friday evening flight arriving back home before 9pm. There was too much information to process, he had reached information overload; And emotional overload. He thought he gone through the six stages of grief: Denial, Isolation, Anger, Regrets, Depression and Acceptance; But a new stage, that of “Realisation”, he considered, could tear him apart.

He paced around the house several times; he had to block out distracting thoughts. He cursed himself for not thinking through his wife and daughter’s death more fully. He could have obtained evidence!

While paranoia was indeed a possibility, there were two pieces of evidence that confirmed his suspicion that was murder, information that was always there but just not connected; the broken exterior light and the crash barrier. He never had replaced the broken light. He took a stepladder from the garage and went outside to examine the light. He climbed the ladder and with a torch examined the bulb without touching it. He saw nothing unusual; a dud bulb and spider webs.

He put the stepladder away and considered driving to the spot of the crash. But no, there would be no point. The barrier would have been replaced. There would be nothing to see. He realised that no-one collects evidence for murder when they accepted death as an accident. He knew that. The CIA knew that. Whoever murdered his wife and daughter knew that.

Planner went to his drinks cabinet and took out the whisky bottle. There was hardly any left; mainly downed during the Depression stage of grief, he recalled. He had not been attentive enough to refill his stockpile. He finished what was left of the Scotch. He decided that it was best not to make a cocktail from the assortment of spirits and liqueurs at the back of the cupboard.

He switched on the TV but did not sit down to watch it. He just wanted distraction. He had to find a way to not think of her, of them, of how they died. He had to channel his energies onto a productive course; he needed to keep busy. Opening his filofax, he went down his To-Do list. After writing down a list of actions and re-reading them, he crossed most of them out. Finally adding another in capitals: “Phone Katherine!” Then he read down the list again. There were many notes that he had made earlier in the day. Then he found just the thing to keep his emotions at bay.

He unpacked his laptop and booted up the Windows 2000 operating system. Slipping in the CD-ROM disk that Digger had given him after the Snow White meeting, Planner accessed new data within his Nastran software; a 3D model of WTC7. Like many New York Buildings, its design is highly constrained by the city environment in which it exits; for example, WTC7 had a trapezoidal cross section, a very strange shape for any building, to fit within the haphazard lower Manhattan street plan. It was 47 stories high and would have stood out in most cities in the USA, it would have been the tallest building in 32 states. However, in New York, it was dwarfed by its proximity to the 110 story twin towers. The North Tower, WTC1, was 355 feet away and WTC2 was 600 feet. In between WTC7 and WTC1 was one eight storied building, WTC6, which, he realised also needed to be destroyed. What team was going to be doing that?

Planner searched for more information on WTC7 using the state-of-the-art, Lycos internet search engine and discovered some interesting facts: Massive building works were undertaken two years after WTC7 was built, to withstand the load of heavy computer equipment. These new areas, built at a cost $200million, were regarded as a “building within a building”. And there were other expensive changes in the following years: the CIA office facilities and its secret entrance via the Defense Department and Mayor’s Emergency Command Center. A name cropped up “Larry Silverstien”: his company had not only built the original tower but also undertook all the renovation and improvement work. 104

Planner drummed his chin. Where had he heard that name before? It finally came to him; Silverstien was in the process of bidding for the 99 year lease on the rest of the World Trade Center. He was the winner of the contest despite offering less, but won when his ex-brother-in-law, Bernard Mendik, pulled out of the competition. And then Mendik died of a heart attack;105 unlucky Mendik, lucky Silverstien. Planner was reminded of the CIA Heart Attack Gun that was developed in the 1960s: another murder-without-consequences^106 weapon in a similar vain as the Boston-Brakes devices. Considering his own job, Planner could not be too self-righteous about the morality of such action; just suspicion and a reminder of his own pledge of allegation, until death, to his lodge and brother Masons.

Planner extracted large paper blueprints from his brief case. He decided to compare the Nastram model with Blue Prints of the building he had come across in the Rainbow Office. He printed out a report describing the structural strength of the components within the model and compared them with the blueprints. He yawned. He decided to finish the analysis in the morning but he dashed off an email before going to bed.

He wrote: “Digger. Looks like the model does not fully account for the extra strengthening undertaken in 1989 when 350 tons of steel was added to WTC7. Can I suggest some further changes to the model? Regards Planner”

He pressed a button to encrypt the message and then another to send it.

* * * *

Planner was asleep. In his dream he imagined the mechanism under his wife’s car activating and turning the wheel sharply, plunging it over a cliff. Falling… He heard the Lodge Master saying, “Tragic. Your wife was such a caring and intelligent lady”. Caring? Intelligent? Why those words? How did he know?

He imagined a bomb explosion destroying four levels in the basement of the North Towers, and the building slowly toppling, falling into the second tower, the floors locking together, and drawing out a huge gash down the side of the other tower, with thousands of people sliding out the building, hanging onto the columns on the outer wall until they no longer were able to hold on any longer.107 He dreamt he was in the Plaza and witnessing the building as it toppled, whole, down towards him.

Planner woke up with a start. He turned and saw his wife in bed with him asleep surrounded by dappled sunlight. This startled him again and he awoke again. He was alone at home. This time, he was certain he really was wake. He rolled over looked at a picture of his wife and young daughter. The emotional dam burst; he held his head and wept.

He recovered his composure in the shower. Returning back to the bedroom in his dressing gown, Planner looked at the clock and sighed. It was already mid-morning. Sitting on his bed, he arranged his cell phone next to his landline phone and sighed again. He took out a new sim-card, inserted it into his cell-phone and made a call.

“Hello?” answered an uncertain female voice.

“Hi, Katherine. It’s Robert. I hope you don’t mind me calling you… er, at home,” said Planner, grabbing a tissue to mop his nose.

“No, hey. This is a… surprise,” stammered Katherine on the phone. “Er… no problem. I’m glad you called. In fact, I was hoping you would. We’ve both been kind of busy, haven’t we?”

“It’s been real crazy. Crazy bad. Can you talk?”

“A short while. What’s up? You sound tense,” she said.

“I’ve just had some bad… er… feelings. About my job. About your job too,” confided Planner.

“Oh? Can you explain?”

“I’m almost lost for words on this, you know, without my powerpoint slides,” he tried to joke.

“Well, ok. We’re on-the-phone. Give it a try,” she said patiently.

“Perhaps it’s because it is on the phone. All those potential ears on the air waves. At the exchange. Along the line,” Planner said with a cringe.

“Ok. I think you can talk to the main bullet points,” she suggested.

“Ok. I just wanted to make sure that you have copies of all your files. From work.”

“About… the Jerks?”

“Yeah. The Texan Jerks. You know who I mean?” he said.

“I do have them backed up. Stored very securely,” she said.

“Where?”

“At work,” she stated.

“You may need them elsewhere,” Planner suggested helpfully.

“Elsewhere? At home?”

“Or mail them to friends or family. Someone you can trust.”

“Like you?”

“I mean really trust.”

“Still you.”

Planner smiled. “Well, thanks. But, probably not me.”

“I’ve got to go. But we need to talk. How are you with ten year olds? Can you meet me at Rock Creek Park after lunch?”

They agreed to meet later. Planner walked over to an antique desk in his living room and opened the roll top shutter. His Amish desk had many individual storage compartments and drawers including a secret compartment. By sliding a block of wood, a drawer popped open on the side of the desk, which held a set of keys. He took the keys back to his workroom where he had his laptop, books and other assorted clutter, poorly arranged on shelves. Planner opened a filing cabinet and extracted a metal box. Within the box was his bug detection kit. This was standard issue equipment for the CIA operatives in covert missions. It was old equipment, surplus to requirements. Planner inherited the equipment when more sophisticated equipment was issued. Planner replaced the 9 volt battery and switched it on. He adjusted the sensitivity button and patrolled the house. It does not take long to scan for active bugs.

Planner found no active bugs. He was about to put the detector back when he decided to do another scan using the non-linear junction detector function^108. By making it actively sweep at particular radio frequencies, the device can detect inactive bugging devices as well as active ones: those devices that are currently transmitting signals. Since this generates a lot of “false positives”, that is, alerts generated from ordinary pieces of equipment, it takes longer to perform the sweep. He checked out the TV, the laptop computer, the cell phone, the microwave cooker, the landline phone… Planner paused. That reading was not quite right. He checked the landline telephone again. The detector bleeped urgently when moved close to the receiver. Planner took a pocketknife from his desk and carefully prised the plastic handset apart. It popped open quite easily revealing the components and wires expected in such a device. But beside the receiver loudspeaker was a small, disconnected component no bigger than a quarter. It consisted of a hearing-aid-style, flat battery, an integrated circuit and a plastic blob, probably a microphone. This was a state-of-the-art, professionally made listening device, obviously left in the room some time ago. Planner knew from his own experience that the batteries could operate for between one month and three. So in all probability, Planner reckoned, the bug must have been installed around the time of his wife’s death. Planner used tweezers to pick up the item and placed it in a plastic bag. He reassembled his phone and wrote a note of date and time and stapled the note to the bag.

Planner resumed his search around the house but found nothing more.

* * * *

Planner and Katherine sat on a park bench at Rock Creek Park on a slope overlooking a baseball diamond where a team of young, uniformed girls were playing baseball under the supervision of some adults.

“So which one is Beth?”

“She’ll be coming into bat shortly.”

“That professional looking one?”

Katherine aimed a fake slap on Planner’s shoulder, “Oh, stop it.”

“So is that her?” he said as the new batter appeared.

“Yes, that’s my darling.”

Planner nodded.

“So, we’re here to talk about work? You were saying it wasn’t going well?” she said.

“There’s a situation at work,” Planner frowned.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“You’ll just think I’m paranoid,” Planner looked down.

“Try me.”

“A colleague died at work the other day. In a car accident. In the same way my wife died,” Planner said coldly.

“That’s shocking. It must been dreadful; digging up old wounds. The same way?”

“Uncannily the same,” Planner said.

“What a horrible coincidence,” said Katherine looking away.

“Coincidences rarely happen. In my job, they never do,” said Planner.

“Rarely? But…” said Katherine.

“Oh they are reported all the time in the newspapers. But coincidences are not part of police work. And not part of my work.”

“Hmm, so what sort of secret defence contract are you doing?” she said, restoring eye contact.

“Secret secret,” said Planner.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“No. Quite the reverse,” sighed Planner.

“Ah… I don’t understand, of course. Are you saying your wife had enemies?” she said.

“No,” said Planner, but then, unusually, he changed his mind. “I don’t know.” Planner stammered and looked away.

“Can you tell me about her? You’ve hardly ever mentioned her. I understand that you don’t really want to,” cajoled Katherine gently.

“We met through a mutual friend. She was a wild child of a rich family. Disowned them. She loved life, animals, nature. She spoke her mind. Had lots of friends, no enemies that I can really think of.”

“So family? Were they out to get her?”

“No, all reconciled,” said Planner, finding eye contact hard.

“But you think there may be something, someone?”

“She campaigned for electric cars. The children’s health angle.109”

“Electric cars? Hardly radical!”

“That’s what I thought. But she was good. She knew people on the California Air Resources Board. They were the people that could say yes or no to electric cars. They made the laws. And when I said that she knew them, I meant she had real hold over them.”

“Blackmail?” Katherine whispered.

“Could be. Nothing too serious, I expect. Probably just making them remember why the legislation was required,” Planner smiled grimly.

“So someone on the board took a contract out on her?” gasped Katherine.

“Maybe a tip off. Or hinted. I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve seen what vested interests are prepared to do. And how easily triggered they are into drastic actions,” said Planner struggling with the words.

“Vested interests. Like what?”

“Like… just like what you’ve seen with Enron,” said Planner uncertainly.

“So, you think… maybe Big Oil is behind it?”

“Could be. I’ve no way of telling,” sighed Planner.

“And you’ve only just had this realisation?” she asked.

“I guess I’ve suppressed any suspicion until this recent colleague’s death. It flooded out, I kind of collapsed with the epiphany, and then, an hour later, I was effectively given a promotion… or at least a huge chunk of responsibility. But in the meantime, my confidence in my work, has vaporised.”

“Really? Oh no.”

“It felt… very bizarre. Sorry, I’m feeling like a fool,” he confessed.

“You say you’ve lost confidence? Has your boss found out?” she said.

Planner said, looking at the ground, “It’s not quite like that. There’s an unwritten pact between us. I do bad things, Katherine.”

“And you might lose your job?” she said, confused.

Still looking at the ground, he said, “No, I do bad things for my job. And they promote me for it. It’s kind of sick. I can justify my past actions; making omelettes by breaking eggs… Loyalty to colleagues; to a cause; my family. But my job has never been pretty.”

Katherine gulped.

“But the needs of many outweigh the needs of the few,” sighed Planner.

Katherine took this opportunity to break the gloom, “That’s from Star Trek, right?”

Planner smirked back at her, “Now I know I am cracking up,” he said grimly.

They made eye contact again and they both fell silent and looked at each other for a long couple of seconds. Katherine broke the spell and asked a more serious question, “You’re saying the end justifies the means, perhaps?”

Planner relaxed a little more, “Yes, I think the real philosophy is supposed to be the greatest good to the greatest number of people. But I’m thinking… there comes a point when the immoral becomes evil and actually poisons the well. So actually, the end doesn’t justify the means. And I’m used to being ruthless about such matters. Like you wouldn’t believe. Like a pilot sent out to bomb the enemy and finding out you’ve bombed refugees. I’ve done similar bad things and justified it for the sake of the mission or blamed it on war. But I hadn’t thought through the bigger picture.”

“I thought you thought big,” she said.

“I had big thoughts for our country. But not for humanity.”

“Whoa,” said Katherine inadequately. It was a difficult to know how to respond to such a statement. After a pause, she said meekly, “So… criminal things?”

“Government sanctioned but pretty immoral. Is it a crime if it is authorised by the President?” said Planner.

“This is pretty heavy stuff, Robert,” she stammered, as tears welled up in her eyes. “Are you sure you should be telling me this? Just how bad is bad in your books?”

Planner looked down again, “I understand that you may not want to see or speak to me again. That would be very rational of you.”

“Can you resign? This isn’t like the Mafia, right?” she said.

“No, but it feels like it at times. They have a pretty binding contract. I probably could resign. I’d have to give three months notice though and have a good reason to go. And the non-disclosure agreements: more than you’d believe. But I still wouldn’t be able to get out of my current job.”

“Then at least try to resign. Especially, if you’re worried about… er… Death Squads.”

Planner looked at her again, “Right. You got that then?”

“That is what your implying, right?” she said with tears.

“Well, yes.”

“You’re serious?”

“You can read about them in the newspapers?” he said.

“Really?”

“And on the internet.”

“So conspiracy theories?” she said with a trace of venom and drying her eyes.

“Backed by official documentation. I just never imagined them so close to home. My wife, for instance? I’m incredulous about it, so I can hardly imagine what you must be thinking.”

“Could they be after you?”

“Considering what I am doing at the moment, no. But if my paranoia is correct and she was targeted then they must have been intercepting our calls. Her calls, at least,” said Planner.

“And they would have found out what you did?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. I don’t do the sort of job where the work I bring home is scattered about. Or talked about on open lines.”

“So you are doing something bad? For them?” she said.

“I really can’t say anything. It started off just as an extension of my normal… job. Doing something good for my country,” said Planner, struggling with his inner dilemmas.

“It’s Black Ops, isn’t it? I don’t know what that means exactly but its clandestine stuff,” she said.

“We’re getting into twenty questions here. It’s not fair on either of us to discuss this. This isn’t supposed to be about me. It’s not good subject to discuss. I’m worried about you. And Enron.”

“Do you realise just how crazy this all sounds?”

“I know. I know. At least, I think I do. Crazy or not… And even if we never speak again, I really came here just to ask one small, albeit, strange favour from you?” said Planner, back in control of his emotions.

“Is this going to be sexual?” she said in a nasal voice, holding a handkerchief to her nose.

Planner laughed, “No.”

Katherine pocketed her handkerchief and looked back attentive but unsmiling.

Planner inhaled and said, “Could you just do this one thing and honestly, if you don’t want to see or speak to me again then I perfectly understand. Can you make sure that you don’t go into the office unless your CEO is there?”

Katherine was surprised. “But the CEO isn’t my boss,” she said.

“It doesn’t matter. It has to be the CEO,” said Planner.

“Can you tell me why?”

“No, I can’t do that,” he said trapped by his oath of secrecy and fear of not being believed. “Just check your CEO’s calendar and confirm that he’ll be in the office. Make any excuse if he’s not. Just for the next month.”

“Ok. I think we have now established that you are cracking up,” she joked. “You seriously can’t tell me what this is about. How do you know all this?”

“As you said, it is a small community in Wall Street. Your work may have kicked up quite a bit of a storm.”

“My work?” exclaimed Katherine.

“And it is soon going to be thrown into a whirlwind. I just couldn’t bear to see you hurt,” said Planner nervously.

“Some sort of raid? On Marsh McLennan?” Katherine continued to exclaim.

“Twenty questions again. Sorry, I’ve said too much as it is,” said Planner averting his eyes.

In the distance, further down the slope, Katherine could see the baseball game, breaking up. “Can we talk again? Say next week? This isn’t a great place to talk.”

“I’m afraid I’m in Washington next week then on a training course for the next couple of weeks after. In Oklahoma.”

“Training course? Hey, and I was worried about your stress levels.”

“It’s going to be quite a course.”

Katherine sighed, “You’ve set me quite a puzzle here. And you seemed like a nice guy.”

Planner said, “I think I may have a superman-complex; trying to save the world. But finding out I’ve been working for the lizards of Krypton.”

Katherine tapped her teeth for a few seconds, “I think I have the answer to your problem though.”

“Oh?”

“Do your job,” she said. “If you have to… and no I don’t approve… But do it badly! It seems to work for the SEC.”

Planner smiled and nodded, “That sounds like some decent kryptonite!”

At that point a blonde, ten year old girl came running up the slope carrying a heavy bag.

“Mummy, Mummy, did you see how I hit the ball? First stroke!” she said.

“I missed it! Ohhhh Nooo! Well done, though. Well done,” Katherine replied maternally.

Katherine introduced her daughter to Planner, the first of her man friends she had ever introduced to her. The three of them threw the baseball around and laughed and chatted, like their previous conversation had never happened. Once it seemed like the right time to leave, Planner said goodbye, waving from a distance and walked back to his car.

The ground felt springy, the air was light, the sun was warm. Planner smiled and started to hatch a plan.

Chapter Twelve: Washington DC

Planner and Bates were surrounded by many formally dressed men sitting behind a set of desks arranged in a horseshoe. These were generals and commanders of high rank if the number of badges and flashes attached to their uniforms were anything to go by. Only three men were not in uniform. One of them, at the head of the horseshoe, was the Lodge Master that Planner had to refer to as “Senator” in this meeting.

Unusually for a meeting of this type no names were used, each person introduced themselves only by post names and role in the operation.

The Lodge Master, aka Senator, introduced himself as “CoG-3a” even though most people there knew his name, and explained himself as the main political stakeholder for the operation. The others introduced themselves as “CinC-1a Air Force”, “NG-1a National Guard”, “Psyop-7 Media” and so on. There were 15 stakeholders there. Planner did not take notes in case anyone felt they were being “recorded”.

Planner introduced himself as “Rainbow 1a Planner” and Bates as “Rainbow 1b Deputy”.

The Senator read out the progress report including the underestimation of the number of hijackers, lack of indoctrinated flight crew, uncertainty with achievement of all objectives, particularly the impact on the Pentagon, and included Planner’s concerns on plausibility of the building “collapses”.

One of the Generals snorted, “You can fool most of the people some of the time!”

Another said, “Regarding the towers, we need an academic, independent of NIST, to provide a suitable explanation.110^111”

Another of the non-uniformed persons, a mid-thirties man, that introduced himself as Psyop-7 Media, nodded, “We will introduce our story early. The public’s mind is very receptive to authority messages when there is apparent chaos.”

“We have talking heads positioned in all the major news channels,” volunteered Planner.

“No,” mused Psyop-7 airily, “No, it needs to come from an ordinary Joe in the street. It needs to be self evident to a man-in-the-street what has happened; he’d be our own man, of course. And only then, would the story be repeated up by the talking heads. And then backed up by academics, as the General said.”

Bates said, “Point noted. I’ll get on to the ground teams.”

Psyop-7 smiled a little.

The meeting continued with a simple animation of the day’s events, projected on the screen.

Planner gave a forty five minute presentation on the state of each individual operation, finishing with a slide showing a timeline: the preparation state for each Operation’s Stage A team and lead times required for the Stage B and C teams. There were no interruptions. Planner sat down, and picked out a mint from a conveniently placed bowl.

“Thank you very much, Planner,” assured the Senator. “It’s good to see everything on track and going to plan. I see the critical path is dependent upon the drones.”

“Yes, we’re flying out later this week to perform rehearsals,” stated Planner.

“I was just wondering whether you have entertained any cost saving measures?” said the Senator.

“We have looked at using military drones rather than 767 airliners. However this only makes sense for the crash into the North Tower since all other crashes would be highly visible or pose problems for the Stage C teams, with the clear up and air crash investigations. I understand a high quality animation of the first crash is under construction to provide cover for the drone,” said Planner.

“Suppose there were no air crash investigations?” said the Senator.

“Not something I had considered,” shrugged Planner. “Every air crash on US soil has been investigated by the NTSB. They are after all, er… my speciality.”

Psyop-7, probably the youngest person in the room, sighed.

Bates looked at him and said curtly, “Do you have a better idea?”

Psyop-7 started twisting in his seat uncomfortably, “Well we have multiple options here. One, to actually use planes or, two, use cruise missiles or some other military drone. So you’ve researched option one, civilian jets, and option two the use of military drones, and that’s great. Let’s explore that second scenario a bit more. Remember, we do have the media on our side to tell the story. The public will believe what we tell them and show them. So what do we have to worry about? Witnesses seeing the drones and somehow able to report it? People say crazy stuff all the time! And we can trot out our witnesses to say anything we want, even saying it was pink elephants. Then we show the video: hey, it really was flying pink elephants! And that story will be believed by the majority of the population, even if there are experts saying Flying Pink Elephants don’t exist! You catch my drift?”

Some of the generals chuckled a little but Planner was not impressed.

“Well maybe not.” He stood silent for a second before continuing. “But suppose we tell them what they would expect to see. What if we say,” said the young man smugly, “it was a big jet; people will certainly believe that. It is what they are expecting. If there are then contrary witness reports, then the-more-the-better in my book; They’ll just look like they’re crazy people! The TV viewers will believe the talking heads even more if people report that there was no big jet when we can show two, three, four videos of a big jet crashing into the towers.”

Planner nodded slowly, knowing he had been saying something similar the previous week.

“The first impact, say,” continued Psyop-7 nodding encouragingly back to Planner, “Fast and unexpected. No-one is too sure what it is, or whether they saw it correctly. Even if a few witness report it as a missile or small planes, this gap of uncertainty is just for a few minutes before the whole world sees another big jet, live on TV.”

“Indeed, with no air crash investigation, then I would recommend that scenario. Of course, you’d need to rig up explosives in the right area. That would take quite a long time to prepare…”

The Senator interrupted, “Planner, you might not be aware of this but we have been running a contingency plan for the past year or so. We haven’t only created an animation to cover the approach of drone aircraft, we have also been preparing the impact locations on the twin towers. Our primary plan, the one you have working on, is to use drone airliners. Our contingency plan, has been to use explosives in the towers and merely use TV animated graphics to display the impact on the towers.”

“Animation?” said Planner stunned.

“Yes,” said Psyop-7, “Using commercially available real time animation technology.”

“So you are proposing a scenario where aircraft or drones are not used at all?” said Planner incredulously.

Pysop-7 continued crisply to the quiet room, “Yes, no aircraft at all. We manage the news. The world will see explosions and we’ll provide animations of the planes hitting the towers. Before you say anything let me tell you some more. There are multiple benefits: accuracy; you can’t miss with pre-planted explosives and computer animation. Control, flexibility, cost… It’ll definitely much cheaper: we’ve spent $1million on the animation. On the drones it would be $400million. That’s quite a difference. And there are less things to go wrong. We’ll just use our own witness reports and later, we can show poor quality video live and then show high quality animation of the crash event later…” Psyop-7 stood up and asked for some media to be loaded into the laptop connected to the projector.

Pysop-7 explained the video being presented. “This is the first crash, as seen from the ground. The plane arrives from the north but we only have to animate from this building, here, to the impact point. The jet will look as though it flies behind this building and then absorbed into the north tower.”

“What happens if the weather is different,” asked Bates.

“This is just the animation, we’ll capture footage from the day and apply the animation as a composite,” said Psyop-7 coolly, and continued. “For the second impact, we have suggested multiple views and viewpoints: from the side, the bottom, flat-on and also, and I’ll think you’ll like this, live from helicopters!”

“How are you going to do that?” said Planner, surprised and unnerved.

“While the side and flat-on views uses the same high quality animation models as the first impact video, and will be slow to deliver, the helicopter views will have simple models, seen from a long distance and from the other side of the tower. The tower itself becomes a mask to the animated image. You won’t see the actual crash.”

“And you can do that real-time on live TV?” said Planner.

“Actually no. There will be about a five second delay. Record the explosion, add the animation, broadcast then cut back to live TV. Ten second delay, tops. You can do this live: composite three images together: the bottom layers is the live TV view, the next layer is the aircraft model and the third layer is live view by with the bright sky keyed to be a transparent layer. The aircraft will look like it’s flying behind buildings and into the towers,” said Psyop-7 smugly.

“I don’t know about this,” said Planner.

“TV replay will be instantly available, making people doubt their own recall of the event. There will be very few who remain unshakable in their belief that it was not a large plane that just crashed and those sceptics will not get much air time on the day or ever after. After the airlines announce they’ve lost two jets, any witness dissent will be obliterated. If someone says there were no planes, their views will be dismissed because, you know, everyone has seen the TV. Shall I show you the psychological experiments we’ve conducted upon memory recall when confronted by faked TV evidence?”

“I’m sure it’s very compelling. Depressing, but compelling,” sighed Planner.

“So, the problem of contrary witnesses is a easily overcome. Any lingering doubts or suspicions, will be quickly silenced by our Psyop personnel and the overwhelming pressure of the TV footage. Most will develop false-memory syndrome and believe that they witnessed the planes themselves. They’ll tell their friends they were there and saw the aircraft!”

“Just like War of Worlds,” injected Bates. “Orson Wells’ radio broadcast. People believed they actually saw Martians!”

There was a mild chuckle in the air while Planner was springing his fingers together deep in thought.

“Now you do have second order problems,” continued Psyop-7. “Will the video be good enough? It needs to be perfect. What you’ve seen here are just the draft animations. Except for the live feeds we have several hours if not a day to splice together real footage of the explosions and the animated aircraft.”

As Planner formulated his response, one of the Generals stated in a gruff tone, “The animated aircraft will be 100 % on target, that much we know. But will the drones be 100 %? Could they miss the target? We’re aiming for specific parts of the building, it could interfere with the demolitions.”

“Or lose the whole justification of the collapse?” suggested another General. “Or suppose one of the drones just clipped the edge the tower and spun into the Plaza, in front of TV cameras, to reveal a bunch of empty seats?”

The Senator tilted his head. “Indeed any such mistake, a botched crash, would be far worse than anything that a bunch of witnesses could say. No crash, no debris, and so perhaps… less loose ends? As you’ve said yourself, Planner, we need to be as tight as possible.”

Planner paused as he considered his response.

“This is all very interesting,” said Planner. “There are a few things that I’d like to go through in slower time. Certainly, Flight 11, the first crash, perhaps we don’t need the 767; use a cruise missile. Then rely on explosives and psychological means, as Pysop-7 has just outlined. As for the other three aircraft, I defer to my staff that have advised me of the current plan. It is not a good idea to change plans without analysing more fully and comparing the risks. This idea also requires a great deal more complicity with the TV channels than I had previously assumed and I have not investigated those relationships.”

After a moment’s silence, the Senator concluded, “I do so agree, Planner,” he said condescendingly. “Yes, continue with your primary plan. We will talk later about this after you’ve completed your exercises.”

* * * *

The Lodge Master, aka the Senator, unlike the rest of the review panel, shook Planner’s hand, using their secret Masonic handshake, as he left the room. Planner noted the Senator’s Quill and Dagger motif on his tie and was dismayed of his display of Lodge’s secret symbol.

“We’ll talk at the regular time,” said the old man cheerfully.

Planner smiled back uncertainly.

The Senator shook Bates’ hand, “Bates.”

“Senator,” smiled Bates gleefully.

Planner packed up his laptop and exited with Bates, “I need a walk,” said Planner.

“Not lunch?” said Bates. It was early afternoon.

“Ok. Lunch.”

* * * *

“Ok,” said Planner, sitting in the Pentagon canteen. “I think we’ve met the Psychologist.”

“I don’t like the way we’ve been kept away from the contingency plans,” said Bates.

“My thoughts exactly,” sighed Planner. “My assumption about Air Crash Investigations; It has driven my thinking, and I hadn’t even appreciated that. If there was no follow-up, no investigation, then we can do pretty much whatever we want. But how do we stop the NTSB? The Senator seemed confident that it could be blocked.”

“Make it an FBI investigation. I’m sure I’ve seen that used before?” suggested Bates with a shrug.

Planner looked puzzled, “Bates, I’m an expert in this field and no it has never been done before.” Planner bit into his cheeseburger.

“JFK Jr. It was done for him.112”

Planner stopped chewing for a second, “No, there was still an NTSB investigation for that plane crash.”

“Well,” said Bates dismissively, “This isn’t so different to the DNA testing situation. We gain control of the aftermath and then manage the release of information.”

Planner, his ears glowing red, could not meet Bates’ eyes. Instead, he looked at posters on the far wall. One of the posters read, “Information Security is Your Responsibility.” Planner could just able read the line below; “Computer Attacks at Department of Defense Pose Increasing Risks: 250,000 attacks in 1999.”

* * * *

Planner took a walk by himself. When he was sure he was by himself, he made a phone call on his cell phone.

“Hi Digger, it’s Planner.”

“Hello there,” he replied.

“Did you get my email?” asked Planner.

“Yes, I got one of my boys to check and you’re right, we used the original plans not the updated so yes, we could do with some help there, with the model. The contractor we used for the sighting of the er… payload… is now abroad and off-contract.”

“Ok. No, problem. One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Has there been an allowance for er… impact holes?”

“The Cookie Cutter holes?” joked Digger.

“Yes,” said Planner.

“Oh yes, there’s a whole special effects department working on that.”

“And that doesn’t interfere with the er… main payload?” said Planner being careful not to describe too much over the phone lines. Planner knew that even cell phone calls could be tapped.

“No, the main payloads are above and below. The impact levels just have special effects, wall removal, pyrotechnics and debris cannons to simulate travel from entrance to exit. It’ll be shock and awe.”

“Of course. So all in place?”

“Yes and it is all independent of the payload we’re interested in. It’s triggered by a separate ground team. Not our problem. Well, my problem anyway.”

“What about Building 6?” asked Planner.

“The ground team are dealing with that. All the other buildings will have incendiaries,” said Digger cheerfully.

“Er… right. Thanks. I’ll email you later.”

* * * *

Planner, back at home, tinkered with the Nastran software on his laptop computer in his study.

He was taking Katherine’s suggestion of doing his job badly one step further, he was making tweaks of his own finesse just a small part of the plan. Planner opened a spreadsheet list, marked “north tower”. This spreadsheet contained the external label references of all detonators for the WTC1 building and the wireless detonation cell phone numbers and associated security codes. Planner selected and cut the row marked “Floor 7 Core”. He then opened a spreadsheet list, marked “WTC7”. This spreadsheet contained the external label references of all detonators for the WTC7 building. He then pasted the WTC1 row into sheet. The external references were recorded on the sheet in the format “WTC1-7-7”. Planner selected the external reference field and changed it to “WTC7-7-7”. He was subtlety making his own “magic bullet”.

To load the magic bullet into the weapon, he needed to write an email. It read:

“Digger,

I’ve added a few more tweaks. I’ve reduced the number of payloads for WTC1 and WTC2 as already discussed. But increased it for WTC7 to account for the extra reinforcement within the building.

Please find the new models, simulations and label sheets for the detonators attached.

Please let me know if you are going to make any changes.

Regards

Planner”

He pressed a button first to encrypt the message and attachments and then, after a pause, pressed another to send.

Chapter Thirteen: Oklahoma

Planner and Bates exited with large bags from their Chevrolet Suburban limo on the runway of Tinker Air Force base. Early morning and high cloud allowed the temperature to be comfortable, hardly any warmer than their air-conditioned SUV limo. Flat in all directions with the smoky mountains in the distance, the most dominant item in their immediate landscape was the rear view of a four-engined, jumbo jet. The jet looked just like a Boeing 747, the big hump at the front was the characteristic feature of the 747 air frame. That hump was a second story to the plane occupied by the flight crew and, if it were a civilian aircraft, the first class passengers. The plane was all white except for a blue stripe down the fuselage; there were no other markings.

Greeting them was Colonel Purple, easily identifiable by the uniform and purple colored badge on his chest covering the usual military name tag.

“Sir!” saluted Purple.

“Colonel,” greeted Planner warmly, shaking his hand.

Purple took one of their bags and lead them past an armed security guard standing on the runway, over to the jumbo jet.

“I hope you were not delayed too long at security,” said Purple.

“It took an hour. Full bag search,” stated Bates sardonically.

“That’s privileged treatment. Most people have it worse. The security is tight around here. It’s because of this plane. The E4-B National Emergency Airborne Command Post^113, or as we call it, the Knee-Cap,” stated Purple proudly.

“I thought it was called the Doomsday Plane,” said Planner.

“Yes, in the newspapers,” said Purple. “Not a bad name for it, all things considered. It’s hardened against EMP, the electro-magnetic pulse that nuclear bombs emit. Most aircrafts’ electronics, come a nuclear war would be fried by EMP, by the Knee-Cap would still be flying.”

“Are we going straight onboard? I thought we’d be briefed beforehand,” said Planner.

“Straight onboard. No need to use any other facility. This aircraft has everything you’ll need. Plus it’s the most secure office conferencing facilities this side of the Cheyenne Mountains,” boasted Purple.

Purple led Planner and Bates up a rear set of stairs on the port side.

Once inside, Purple started a tour of the aircraft. “The mission crew use this rear door. There’s a forward door for V.I.Ps, but that’s rarely used, even by the Secretary of Defense.”

“How many people does it carry?” asked Bates.

“The E4-B can carry over one hundred crew members, although generally we fly with about 50. So this section is the galley; help-yourself-service mainly although there are stewards too. There’s bathrooms back there. Shower facilities, which are essential; Exercises can last a week with no touchdown. We run out of food after that!”

“A week!?” exclaimed Bates.

“In flight refuelled?” asked Planner.

“Naturally. It takes two KC-135 tankers to top up its tanks. And they’re needed every 12 hours,” said Purple, leading them through to corridor running the length of the starboard side. Purple lead Planner and Bates into the first large room, the Rest Area. Purple drops the bag he was carrying into a luggage rack and invited Planner and Bates to do the same. The room had about 40 seats arranged like an airliner on one side and bunks on the far side.

“This is the rest room. In-flight entertainment, just like an airliner. But over here, for a good night’s sleep, bunk beds!”

He then led them into the next room, small with sound-dampening insulation, where 8 people could sit in cramped conditions surrounded by electronics. A mid-twenties officer was sitting in one of the seats. He had a browny-yellow badge.

He stood to attention as they entered and salutes, “Sir!”

“This is Captain Ochre, in charge of communications,” said Purple returning the salute. “This is the Communication Room: telephony and radio. All channelled by satellite communication through the bump on the roof. Then it goes out to aircraft, ground, even to submarines. Not just voice but video and data. We collect data from AWACS, satellites, U2s, radar, well everywhere really. Even CNN.”

Bates and Planner shook Ochre’s hand.

Purple led Planner and Bates along the corridor into the next room, the Command Room. In the middle of the area, were six groups of desks for four people each with four computer screens. There were another 4 computer screens on the back wall, 28 positions in all. There were 3 uniformed men relaxing in the room, with Magenta, Orange and Blue tags. They stood and saluted. Purple saluted back without introducing them.

“This is the main command room, tactical display, computers… There’s an E4-B ready 24 hours a day, 365 days a year,” said Purple to Planner and Bates. “There’s four of them and usually permanently manned, just like a ship!”

“Why is it permanently manned?” asked Bates.

Purple said in hushed tones, “The computer systems are rated Top Secret, containing every military plan and option available. We need to stop any possibility of tampering. Basically they contain the DoD’s crown jewels. So there is always someone onboard except during major overhauls.”

Resuming his tour voice, Purple said, pointing at different work stations, “Flight monitoring, over here. Comms monitoring here. The drone team will be here. And the ground contact team over there. The area in the middle, this is where I expect you’ll be sitting during the Big Event.”

“Really?” Bates seemed surprised.

“Well, we’re planning on imitating four aircraft. We’re going to be busy,” said Planner.

“Can’t we do most of that from the ground?” said Bates.

Purple spoke paternally to Bates, “I don’t suppose you appreciate the number of plane spotters and amateur radio hams out there that would hone in on any fake transmissions emanating from a single spot. All our spoofing has to come from the air if you want any form of credibility.”

Bates pulled a face. Purple spun on his heels and left the room.

Planner said to Bates, “Welcome to Spoof-Central.”

* * * *

Purple led Planner and Bates into the E4-B’s empty Briefing Room.

Purple announced, “Large conference room and briefing room. You can squeeze forty people in here. You may need to, for this op.”

Through a door at the back, they entered the smaller conference room, which was only slightly smaller but designed for about 8 people in some comfort. On the walls, there are lockers containing equipment, mission plans, and a variety of other luxuries.

“This is the strategic conference room. This will be our office for most of this week. Forward of this is accommodation for Secretary of Defense, or the President, but the President generally prefers to fly on Air-Force-One. In any case, it’s off limits to us mere mortals. Above us, on the second floor, are the pilots, engineers and navigators. They actually have been sealed off. They won’t know a thing about the actual mission; they just fly the plane along a planned route. They have their own beds and canteen up there.”

“Below us,” Purple banged his feet, “are stores and the MJU-32 anti-aircraft missile defences. We don’t go down there either. That’s about it. Or rather, as much as I know.”

“Phew. I suspect this costs quite a few tax dollars,” observed Bates.

“$250 million. Plus running costs… about $80million a year. For each one,” said Purple.

“And Air Force One? That’s another aircraft type?” asked Bates.

“Oh yes. There are actually two Air Force Ones, Boeing 747-VC-25s^114. The four E4-Bs look similar, 747 airframes, but they have different functions. Similar costs though,” said Purple.

“Thanks very much, Colonel,” said Planner. “That’s been most enlightening.”

Purple smiled and walked over to a locker and opened it via a combination lock, “Ok. That’s enough of the guided tour. Let’s look at the flight plans and perhaps this afternoon we can start the exercise?”

As he was laying out papers and maps from the locker, there was a knock on the door.

Purple looked up and smiled, “Ah-ha. The other key member of the crew…”

The door opened and a fully uniformed, older officer walked in. Planner recognised his face, but out-of-context, he struggled to recall who he was.

But there was no such problem for Bates, “Colonel Nicholas!” he said enthusiastically.

“Hello, Rainbow Team,” Nicholas smiled. “You looked surprised.”

“I guess I am,” said Planner. “Pleasantly so!”

“Colonel Purple and myself arranged this some time ago. We knew this would be the best place to be, come the Big Event,” he said.

“Welcome back, Colonel. Glad you could make it,” beamed Purple.

* * * *

The four of them poured over the draft flight plans and timelines, finally agreeing the flight plans, of the E4-B, the airliners, the drones and chase planes.

The two Colonels took the pencil drawn plans back to the Command Room for the draft flight plans to be entered into the computer. That way they could run a variety of simulations to check the reactions of USAF and capacities at key airfields.

Soon after that the remainder of the Rainbow Team with the notable exception of Turq, entered the E4-B. There was a mix of some 30 people: 20 male, 10 female, some military, some casually dressed, a couple in suits. As they entered the Rest Room, they were handed a thick document from Captain Ochre. The team dispersed around the aircraft reading the material, making notes and highlighting sections.

Colonel Purple gave a briefing to the team in the Briefing Room, covering basic etiquette on the E-4B and the objectives of their first flight.

All the team had been trained individually on each of the computer systems and communication headsets. All the team, that is, except Bates and Planner, this was their time to learn. For the rest of the team the mission was basic familiarity and to come together as a team; to “gel”.

* * * *

Bates took the opportunity while the aircraft was on the ground to use the Large Conference Room to give a presentation on the back-story. About thirty people squeezed into the briefing room. On a back projected screen, he displayed portraits of the hijackers with short profile details as text below. He used a laser pointer to pick particular characteristics and was able to make quite a few jokes around some of the subtlety of details arranged in the back-story.

The Rainbow Team called out information from their own research of the Rainbow Actors actions and known locations to bolster the narrative.

The plane engines started up. They all found a seat: color coordinated, of course, and prepared for take off.

Due to its reduced passenger count and weight compared to a commercial 747, the E4-B felt smooth and agile on take-off.

Once airborne and at cruising altitude, Colonel Purple lead Planner and Bates into the Command Room. Lieutenant Orange, a fresh-faced, thirty year old, explained the radar picture on a large, flat-screened computer display.

Planner pulled a face when he found out that Bates did not understand anything about transponder codes or what they implied. So Orange explained it to him.

“Have you heard of IFF,” asked Orange to Bates.

Bates frowned; he had not.

“Identification Friend of Foe^115. It was devised in the second world war to identified radar blips as either one of ours or one of theirs,” he explained patiently.

“Right,” Bates apologetically. “Yes, I had heard of that.”

“Well a transponder code is the same sort of thing. A radar sweeps around radiating RF waves. These waves hit an aircraft. Onboard they have a device, called a transponder, which then transmits back a particular type of radio wave. That’s interpreted by the receiving system as a four-digit code and that’s the transponder code,” said Orange. “It also provides extra data, particularly the altitude of the aircraft, most radars can’t work out height so they get the information from the aircraft itself.”

“That four digit code… that’s the same as the Squawk Code?” suggested Bates.

“Yep, same thing. So it’s just a number coming back from the aircraft. It’s those four digits that are displayed on the radar picture below the track symbol,” said Orange.

Bates nodded.

“Ok, here’s where it gets complicated. Because an enemy can spoof these numbers, there are military bands that encrypt the number,” said Orange. “So we can tell whether they are friendly, hostile or civilian. And we color code them on-screen: Blue tracks are other friendly military aircraft. Green tracks are civilian airliners. Red tracks are hostiles, tracks that are not returning any valid transponder codes, flash red and yellow.”

“So they are easy to spot,” said Bates.

“Yeah, that’s the point. Even Red tracks could just be a problem with their equipment; at least you know where they are. But no code at all, well they’re dangerous no matter what the situation. Potential for mid-air collision.”

“So how do you spot aircraft with no transponder,” asked Bates.

“Well, the computer does it. Autotracking, is the term. It used to be done by the Mark One Eyeball,” he said pointing to his eye. “Ok. When I press this button,” Orange pressed a button and all the blue tracks disappeared on his radar screen, “This is what the FAA sees: just green and red tracks. But not blue tracks and not red/yellow tracks.”

“It cuts out the military picture,” said Planner.

“Right,” said Orange and pressing another button, “but we will be seeing the military picture, we will be seeing this picture, blue tracks, red and red/yellow. As you can see, quite empty in comparison.”

“A couple of things confuse me,” sighed Bates, “how does the FAA see aircraft with no transponders?”

“Well, they don’t. If the FAA needs to track an aircraft with no transponder the track is manually selected by NORAD and passed through to them over a data gateway. The same gateway where we plan to pass dummy data during the Big Event.”

Bates nodded, “And how do military aircraft see civilian aircraft?”

“Oh we can always see them, here,” and Orange pressed a button and the green tracks reappeared. “It’s just a way of de-cluttering the screen. There’s collision detection software running continuously to alert of any hazard.”

“The clever stuff, hey, Orange, do you want to tell him?” said Planner. “About dead reckoning?”

“No, I’ll let you, Sir,” smiled Orange.

“The clever stuff, is that these tracks persist when there is no radar cover and no transponder returns,” Planner said with a smile.

“I don’t follow,” said Bates.

“The tracks exist in the database and they are updated using the last known information in the computer: speed direction altitude. The computer predicts where the aircraft is going to be using Newton’s laws of motion. Even when there is no radar cover,” said Planner.

“So this provides the space where a airliner can be replaced by a drone?” said Bates cautiously.

“Hole-in-one, Bates,” smiled Planner. “The blip on the ATC screen is just the computer’s best guess.”

“And there’s just one further thing,” said Orange.

Bates and Planner looked back at him, worried.

“It’s not so easy to see on this display, but see this light blue circle?” Orange pointed to the radar screen. “In the centre of that circle is an AWACS aircraft^116. You know what an AWACS is, right?”

“It’s a flying radar?” said Bates uncertainly.

“Right, so we have an entirely separate radar picture, not shared with NORAD and the FAA, just for us on a separate communications network running at secret level. We’ll have three AWACS flying on missions many miles away, on their own training mission. Each AWACS only sees their own returns. Only we get to see the fully compiled big picture.”

“The big radar picture,” offered Planner.

“Right,” said Orange.

“So not even NORAD will know what’s going on?” asked Bates.

“Not even NORAD. Actually, since we’re inserting fake tracks, they will be in absolute fog,” smiled Orange.

“The fog of war,” joked Planner.

* * * *

A late lunch was served in the Rest Area by burly uniformed military men, with tattoos on their arms, but still with the same civility expected from a commercial flight.

For the rest of the flight, Bates and Planner learnt how to use and comprehend the radar consoles. They were able to watch and listen to the radio communication from an AWACS perform routine monitoring of aircraft flying into the USA from the south. According to radio reports, two of the aircraft were identified as smuggling drugs.

At sunset, they flew in formation alongside an AWACS at 25,000feet. It flew within half a mile, much closer than you would ever see a civilian aircraft in normal operations. An AWACS aircraft is based on the Boeing 707 airframe, but on top of the rear fuselage supported a saucer shaped disk, 30 foot in diameter. Planner and Bates saw it out of the windows along the starboard corridor with a red sunset behind. It would have made a nice picture.

They had flown almost to Cuba and back that day.

* * * *

Several days of intensive flying and training later, Planner returned to his allotted officer accommodation at Tinker Air Base. In an attempt to recover from his tiredness, Planner splashed cold water on his face, and then performed his usual ritual with the cell phone. He inserted a new Sim-Card into his cell phone and dialled a number.

“It’s Robert,” he said.

“You missed our scheduled call yesterday,” said the old man smoothly but clearly indicating some irritation.

“Many apologises, Sir. We were in the air all day and all night.”

“All night?”

“In flight refuelled; In the air all of yesterday and all of today,” said Planner.

“Impressive. Let me know if this might happen again. As you can imagine, we have many very nervous stakeholders in this operation. They like to be kept informed.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“Good. And progress?”

“We’ve refined the scenarios and have covered the Big Event and side shows. We have worked through all expected scenarios and have demonstrated that we are fully flexible with pre-recorded transmissions, live transmissions, disruption mechanisms and have established over-ride protocols. As you know all communications from other Stage B operations will be routed through our command center. We’ve tested that. We have total visibility and control of the air picture, no-one else will. All ground operation teams are green, although they need a final push next weekend to make everything ready.”

“So the contingency plans? Any need for the simulations?”

“No, no need for the contingency plans. We will work with the cruise missile for the first target, to save money, as agreed, and so need the first video rendered. I presume the computer graphics work on the second target is still progressing?”

“Yes, still progressing even though it will not be required from the sounds of it.”

“Right,” confirmed Planner. “It will not be required.”

“Good. And the news media?”

“We have Gatekeepers in place at the big six TV channels. They’ve all been briefed. Operation Las Vegas has additional people on the ground ready to promote our story.”

“Communications?”

“We’ll be using the Special Routing Arrangement Service^117, to ensure the COG are kept informed with reliable information,” stated Planner.

“So are we ready to go?”

“We’ve planned it, simulated it, rehearsed it and now tested it. We have just one final test with the drones. It’s a formality. We are ready to go.”

“Any loose ends? I know that you worry about them.”

“There’s bound to be some. I’ll tidy up the ones I find as we go, as best I can,” said Planner smoothly.

The Lodge Master sounded delighted, “That’s the spirit, Robert. Very good. I’ll make sure everything has the all-clear. Stage B will be initiated.”

Chapter Fourteen: Shadow

At 3am at the World Trade Center Plaza, thirty people exited the North Tower via the underground car park and dispersed into the night. The office cleaning crew, they work every night from 6pm to 3am.118

Across the road, four men in a white van were dozing. The back of the van was piled high with numbered colored packages.

A cell phone woke up the guy in the driver’s seat.

“Ok. We’re ready for the elevator upgrade,” said a voice on the phone.

“Yeah,” replied the sleepy man and clicked off the phone.

“Oi, guys. Come-on. Elevator — Upgrades — R — Us,” he called to his colleagues.

The driver started up the van and drove across the road into the WTC underground car park.

* * * *

Planner skipped breakfast to arrive at the aircraft in advance of the rest of the team to go over some changes in the day’s schedule. He entered the rear door of the E4-B and was greeted by Colonel Purple.

“All ready for another day, Sir?” he said.

“Locked and loaded,” said Planner. They exchanged a few pleasantries as they walked down to the small conference room.

Planner extracted a document from his briefcase to explain to Purple his proposed changes. “We need to go over the communications systems and the radars again. As well as listen again to the aircraft transmissions.”

“As many times as you need, Sir.”

They agreed the changes and Planner prepared to go to the galley to make up for missing breakfast and casually said, “Thanks, Colonel, that’s much appreciated. Oh, and I’m apologising in advance for the changes of plan that we’ll be making on the day.” Planner knew it was inevitable that they would be changes to the plan as events transpired. However, Purple seemed to read a different meaning into this innocuous statement.

“Indeed, Sir,” said Purple with a fixed smile. Then the Colonel, stepped to Planner’s side and said in hushed tones, “I have been briefed about that by the Shadow Team…”

Planner was electrified by this comment but tried to hide it, “Shadow Team… Right.” Planner fumbled with his folder and dropped the document he was holding.

Planner said, thinking fast as he picked the document back up, “I presume they’ve only told you the minimum you need to know, not the complete picture.”

“Just about the tidy up, Sir. I think that’s enough,” said Purple carefully.

“Indeed that’s enough. The bigger picture will become obvious later on,” said Planner. He faked a smile and left hastily. The Colonel raised his eyes to the ceiling.

* * * *

The lining inside the Communication Room, muffled the noise of the engines and the hum of air conditioning. Planner was being briefed by Captain Ochre on the communications equipment.

“Unlike SRAS^119, there really is not any non-repudiation on civilian communications,” explained Ochre.

“You can spoof any number, any communication?” asked Planner.

“Sure”

“So how do you do it?” enquired Planner.

“So to spoof^120 any number, cell phone or land line, you enter the calling id here,” said the young man, pointing to an odd-style, push button telephone pad. “Do that first before making the outgoing call which you do using the standard keyboard. You can save all the caller ids and outgoing call numbers in this preset list: Only ten per terminal though. The technology used here is quite old.”

“So you can call any number from any number?” said Planner.

“Any number to any number. All voice calls are beamed to our dedicated communication satellite and just patched through into the public telephone traffic. It will even be billed to the calling number,” smiled Ochre.

“Right. And Radio?”

“Aircraft Radio transmissions are trickier. They use ACARS^121 but these too can be spoofed using a similar technique. The only problem with spoofing ACARS is the inclusion of navigation and maintenance data. And you can roughly track the source transmission; plus or minus fifty miles,” he explained.

“Right. So when we switch to drones, we need to switch off ACARS on the real flight and switch on our spoof recorded transmissions transmitted by the E4-B,” said Planner.

“Hey, it’s like you planned it,” joked Ochre.

“Thanks but I don’t think I went into this much detail. It was just a note on a To-Do list. Someone else made it happen,” smiled Planner.

Planner was just about the leave when he had a thought, “Just wondering whether I could test some of this out and make a private call,” he said.

“Go for it,” said Ochre. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Ochre stepped into the corridor, allowing Planner to make a private call. He typed his cell phone number into the old-style keypad and entered another number into the computer.

He could hear the phone ring on his headsets. The phone was picked up. “Hi, Turq. It’s Planner,” he said.

“Hi, Boss,” came her cheerful reply over the headset.

“Can you see my caller id?” asked Planner.

“Yes. Calling from your Blackberry? When will they get you flying?” Turq said.

Planner smiled, the test of the spoof system had worked.

Planner changed the subject, “How did it go in Florida with the package delivery?”

“Good. We’re on record; Atta went to hospital. He’s fine though… suspects nothing. And Hiijii has now left the country. He dropped everything; didn’t even pack.122”

“Great. Excellent. Anything else going on?”

“Yes, I’ve liaised with some of the ground teams. We’re all on track at the airports and airlines,” she said hinting that something might not be on track elsewhere.

“Go on,” said Planner paternally.

“I found out about bomb sniffing dog patrols at the WTC. I didn’t know whether it was important or not but I sent a message to Kroll to stop the police dog patrols^123,” said Turq diplomatically.

“Good,” said Planner. “You’ve done the right thing.”

“I found out about them from the Elevator upgrade people,” she said euphemistically. “Who also said that they want complete power downs of the electricity in the towers for a few nights^124.”

“Well that’s ok, isn’t it?” asked Planner.

“Well, no. The place has computers that run 24-7,” said Turq.

“Well perhaps some warnings over the public address system and some private words. The less written evidence the better,” said Planner.

“Right.”

“I have another thing for you, Turq. I need a couple more for WITSEC.”

“Ok. I’ll pass through. I just need gender, age and ethnicity. If you have a photo all the better. You need to say what plane they’ll be on. I can arrange tickets.” Said Turq.

“No tickets required. They’ll be, er… lost in the towers.”

“Ok. There’s quite a few of them. That’s fine. So who will it be?”

“Female, 36, Caucasian, Blonde hair, blue eyes…” said Planner.

“Ok. Don’t worry about eye color. That can be fixed later. The other?” asked Turq.

“Female, 10, Caucasian, baseball player.”

Turq almost laughed, “Baseball. Ha. Ok, got it. I’ll FedEx details out to you by the weekend.”

“Thanks,” said Planner and was about to cut the call.

“Are you bailing out too?” asked Turq.

Planner was confused, “No. Why?”

“I heard that Bates was going,” she said.

“No… might he be part of the… er… Shadow Team?” ventured Planner awkwardly.

“Shadow Team!? Counterintelligence^125? News to me. Though I suspect there would be some of that sort going on. There usually is for operations as large as this,” remarked Turq.

“Ok. Thanks,” said Planner. As he processed the information, to fill the silence in the conversation, he showed his level of distraction by asking, “Are you coming out to Oklahoma?”

“I think I have enough to do here,” she said flatly.

“I’m sure you do. Can you patch me through to Operation Carrot, to… Jenny in Operation Carrot?” said Planner. He had struggled to remember her name. He wanted to say “Stick” since that was the operation she ran. He had used a memory mnemonic: Stick, with a Carrot-Red Hair, in the ground like a carrot, rising up like a genie, rhymes with Jenny. Visual imagery: it seemed to work.

“Hang on.”

The young Captain poked his head through the door, “Everything ok? I heard the word patch.”

Planner said to Ochre, “Yeah. All good. No problem.”

A female voice over the headphones said, “Hello, Planner?”

“Hi, Jenny. I just wondered whether you were working on any counterintelligence plans for Stages A and B,” mused Planner.

“Yes, we’ve got that sorted,” said Jenny smugly.

“Do you have any details?” asked Planner expansively.

“It’s outside my chain of command,” she said briskly. “There’s shadow teams making sure that each operation isn’t accidently or deliberately leaking information.”

“And there’s coordination amongst the teams? Making sure that no-one trips up, right?” said Planner pleasantly.

“Right,” she said over the headphones and then went silent.

“I was wondering whether every team member isn’t already under the Carrot treatment plan in your computer CRM system?” asked Planner.

After a minor pause, she said. “This is not a good topic of conversation, Planner. It’s best we wrapped this up now. Bye.” She cut the call.

Planner sat nodding to himself knowing he had found something.

* * * *

The air stewards that served food for the crew were not available after the first flight. Catering onboard the Kneecap had become self-service. Planner was eating an airline style meal in the Rest Area. Bates came to sit besides him. He had a similar meal.

“The menu quality has gone down hill,” he said cheerfully.

“Imagine eating this for a week?” said Planner.

“I’d die of scurvy,” said Bates. But he started on the macaroni cheese meal anyway.

As Planner finished his meal, he said. “So have you’ve figured out what to do after the Big Event yet?”

“Hang out on a nice tropical island. Not too big, not too small; Some scuba diving; wild beach parties…” said Bates, tilting his head and smiling.

“Sounds nice.”

“And you?” enquired Bates.

“Find a clever lady and have an ordinary life.”

“That sounds er… rather… surprising,” said Bates wide eyed.

“You mean dull, smiled Planner. “It’s ok. I don’t expect you to understand. But I had it all once. And I miss it now.”

Bates finished his meal and said, “Well, you, hell-raiser, you; Let’s get back to the shock and awe!”

Bates walked away, leaving on his seat a crushed Rainbow Document, recognisable by the seven-sided Rainbow logo. Planner casually picked it up and examined the logo. He noticed that the logo had a faint but noticeable shading around its edge: a shadow.

* * * *

Planner stood in the center of the Command Room with the majority of the Rainbow Team in the room. “Ok Guys. I want to go through the whole thing again using the simulators but going at twice actual speed. So not real time. The thing to watch for is the extent of ground radar cover, keep that as an overlay on your computer screen. Make sure that the drone switch occurs outside of the ground radar zone.”

He checked his watch, “Ok. 0-8-hundred hours. Flight 11 takes off from Boston and Flight 93 takes off, at the same time, from Newark. Keep everything normal until all four jets are in the air. At 0-8-10, Flight 77 takes off from Washington. 0-8-15, Flight 175 takes off from Boston. Now, remember, Flight 175, the flight with three digits, has 200 passengers for the Witness Protection Programme. They’ll be flown to Cleveland and the reception center there^126. 175’s transponder signal and call sign will change before it lands. All the radar tracks, remember, will only be visible to us, using the AWACS radar.”

Looking over at Indigo, Planner forced eye contact and said, “0-8-20, we’ll phone through the bomb threat.”

Bates said, “Indigo, best if you go to the Communications room to do that. It’s sound insulated there.”

“Ok,” said Indigo.

Planner continued, “At 0-8-25, Flights 11 and 175 will enter the no-radar Zone, switch off both transponders and Flight 11 will land at Stewart Air Force Base while 175 will continue on. In the meantime, Magenta…”

Young Captain Magenta waved his hand.

“…will align its drone to shadow Flight 11, then we will remotely switch on its transponder and it will continue on as Flight 11. We have a couple of minutes to do this in the no-radar zone. But,” Planner emphasised, “If we have to do it within the radar zone, heaven forbid, we have one turn of a radar sweep, two seconds, to make the change seamless.” Planner looked around the room to make sure everyone was following the instructions. “Old-Flight 175 follows Flight 93 up to Cleveland to disguise itself on radar. So similar switches for Flights 77 and 93. The difference being after the switch, those airliners will be close to us in the E4-B and they’ll fly behind us and follow us back to base. Only Flight 77 drone will have a chase aircraft to make sure it doesn’t go astray. We’ll be looking after the others. Everyone got that?”

Everyone nods.

“Ok, once the switch has taken place. We are on the stage. The world stage. It is up to the Contact Team to act out the scripts or play the audio tapes we have in place.” Planner pointed to the contact team: Tangerine, Mint and Mahogany. Tangerine and Mint were two forty year old talented voice actors while Mahogany was a thirty year old Black woman. “So, Tangy, Minty and Moggy, we have to make it look good.”

Mahogany laughed, Tangerine smiled while Mint sneered his best thespian sneer.

“Ok. Let’s Roll.”

* * * *

Katherine was working on her home computer in her spare bedroom converted into an office. There are piles of folders around her, many marked “ENRON”. She had a mouthful of sandwich when her cell phone rang.

She made a sandwich-muffled grunt into the phone.

“It’s Robert,” said the voice on the phone.

She swallowed, “Hi, Robert. Just thinking about you. How’s it going?”

“In one sense very well. In another… more paranoia,” he said.

“D-Squad or Four Horseman levels of paranoia?” she joked.

“Both.”

She puts her sandwich down. “What can you tell me?”

“Without my powerpoint slides, not very much,” he said.

Exasperated, she said, “So a clue maybe?”

“Well, it happened this morning,” said Planner carefully. “We’re all using aliases here…”

“You are?” interrupted Katherine.

“Er… yes, standard practise,” said Planner blandly.

“So are you really called Robert?” she said tartly.

“Yes,” he said.

“And Smith?” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Maybe not,” he said apologetically.

Katherine picked up Planner’s TASC business card that he had given her. It was attached to the edge of her computer monitor. “But I have your business card!” she said in shock.

“Not technically accurate,” said Planner.

“I can’t believe that you lied. Worse still you took a name like Smith?” said Katherine wide-eyed.

“I know it dishonours all Smiths,” said Planner trying to make a joke, “Sorry, I’m trying to tell it the way it is.”

“An honest liar?” she mused with venom. “I’ll have to take some time to process that…”

“Let me tell you my story,” said Planner.

After a pause, she said curtly, “Go on.”

“On the course today, I think, because of the aliases we use, I believe I was mistaken for someone else,” said Planner carefully.

“I think I know the feeling,” she said with an edge.

“…Someone who is involved in an even darker plot,” said Planner and then he realised his voice was starting to crack up. “…to my own dark plot.”

Katherine was silent.

“Ok. I know this is all indefensible,” said Planner.

“And you’re still not going to tell me,” said Katherine steely.

“I’m… sorry,” Planner was just about able to utter.

“What the hell is going on?” Katherine said loudly. “What have you got yourself into? Hey, what have I got myself into?”

“You were already in it…” Planner said. “From the Enron angle. You just didn’t know it.”

“This is all too much! Too much for me!” Katherine cried.

“I understand,” Planner said trying to interrupt.

“I have enough to deal with already,” she shouted and threw the phone on the floor. Tears streamed down her face. After a minute, she picked up the phone and wiped the tears from her eyes. She pressed a call-back button.

“Are you in danger?” she said meekly.

“Yes, I think I am,” said Planner meekly.

“Can I do anything?” she whispered.

“Just remember what I said about the CEO.”

“Ok,” she said with a sob.

Planner ends the call. Katherine dropped the phone and hid her head in her hands.

* * * *

September 10th, 2001, the lead news item on TV was given by a TV news reader, “After the DoD have admitted that they cannot trace 2.3 trillion dollars in their computer systems, Secretary of Defence, Donald Rumsfeld has announced a War on Bureaucracy, setting up a taskforce in the Pentagon to track down the missing money and improve the collection of financial information within his department…”127

Chapter Fifteen: Stage B

It was late evening. At the end of a lit runway, immediately behind the E4-B, Planner and the rest of the Rainbow Team got off a bus. He texted Katherine as he walked towards the back of the plane, “Don’t go into the office tomorrow!”

The KneeCap was flying on a supposedly night time exercise. It would fly out to the coast, get refuelled and fly back inland with a spoofed IFF identifier. Timed to capitalise upon radar operator’s shift changes, no-one would pay much notice of the flight especially since its flight logs, and much other data for the hijackings, would be purposely destroyed in the morning.128

* * * *

A short while later, at the Comfort Inn, Portland, Maine,129 two well-dressed, burly security men, knocked at a Motel Room door and left a case at the door.

“Yes? Who is it?” came a foreign accented voice from the room.

One of the men said, “Rainbow.”

Inside the room, Atta picked up a handgun and tucked it into the back of his pyjamas. He tentatively looked outside and saw a briefcase and a letter on top. Like most motels, the bedroom doors opened out directly to the car park. Fifty yards away moving towards a black sedan, the two security men were walking backwards, showing the palm of his hands to indicate they had no weapons. Atta took the briefcase quickly inside and shut the door.

He ripped open the letter. It contained airline tickets and a key to unlock the briefcase. He opened the briefcase and it was full of dollar bills. He smiled broadly, then checked the tickets and the smile dropped. He looked at his watch. It was quarter to midnight.

“Bastards!” he exclaimed as he realised he was not going to sleep that night.

He picked up the phone and dialled furiously. “Kalid. They’ve paid up. Pack up now. It’s tomorrow. We must go. Inform the others.”130

* * * *

Katherine was in her pyjamas in her hotel room. She looked at Planner’s text message and agonised about what she ought to do. Finally she texted a colleague at work “Sorry, can’t make it today.” She sat on the bed and held her head in her hands.

Her phone rang almost immediately.

“Hello,” she said hesitantly.

“Katherine, you can’t make it?” said her colleague on the phone.

“No. Sorry.”

“Are you sick?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Oh crap. We need you there! If we don’t get funding, the whole team will be split up and the case against Enron goes kaput. Can I get you anything to pep-you-up so we can cover the meeting? It’s only half an hour. I can come over,” pleaded the man.

“Is the CEO going to be there?” she asked tentatively.

“Yeah. You know that. That’s the whole point of the meeting, right?” he said.

“Ok. I’ll get some cold cures and come in,” she said.

“Phew. Thanks. You nearly gave me a heart attack,” said the man in relief.

* * * *

The Rainbow Actor’s long journey to Logan Airport was not arbitrary; there was a particular reason for choosing that location. Boston’s Logan Airport security was recorded as “dismal”; it had the worst record for security at any airport in the North East USA. Tests by FAA agents were able to get 234 guns and inert hand grenades and bombs past its passenger screening checkpoints despite being fully manned and with X-ray machines. Other reports noted that perimeter doors were often left open, making it possible for anyone to gain access to planes on the ground. In summer 1999, a teenager was able to climb over the airport’s security fence, walk two miles across the tarmac, board a 747, and fly on to London. Security cameras belatedly ordered in that year had still not been installed by September 2001.131

At 6.50am, Logan International Airport, Boston, September 11th, Alshehri and Fayez nervously approach the check-in desk. Fayez looked barely awake.

“Would you like to check-in?” asked the check-in assistant politely.

Alshehri, as-if reciting, and with heavy accent, said. “We would like to buy two tickets for Flight 175.” He slapped down a wad of documents and cash.

The check-in assistant was less than impressed. “This is check-in, not ticket sales. You need to go the booth over there. They open in ten minutes.”

Alshehri looked at Fayez very confused. The check-in assistant picked up the money and papers to hand them back. Then she noticed airline tickets. “Oh wait. You have tickets.” She smiled and waved the tickets and Alshehri and Fayez look relieved.132

* * * *

In a corridor at Logan Airport’s terminal building, was a short, almond-eyed woman wearing an ill-fitting, generic turquoise airport uniform. Holding the Flight 11 passenger manifest, Turq counted the number of empty seats on a plan of Flight 175. She took a “cloned” cell phone^133 from a bag marked “Atta” and made a call. It would be recorded the cell phone network operator as coming from Atta’s own phone.

“Make sure there are no Muggles in the area, we’re coming over,” she said to a fellow Rainbow Team colleague.

She then exited the terminal building and made her way to a bus, holding the Flight 11 passengers and drove it over to Flight 175.

As the passengers ascended the aircraft, she wrote on their boarding card a new seat number in felt-tip ink. One of the male passengers stopped and asked uncertainly, “Is this right?”

“We’re consolidating onto one aircraft,” she said unsmiling. “We’ll be taking off in twenty minutes.”

With the last passenger boarded, she then drove back to the original gate, parked the bus and walked out to the empty aircraft, which was ready to leave. Sealing up the aircraft, Turquoise then entered the co-pilot seat. A member of ground crew moved the steps from the aircraft and Flight 11 taxied to the runway.

* * * *

On board the E4-B, the Rainbow Team had snatched a few hours sleep and were now assembled at their respective stations within the Command Room. There was an air of expectation; all was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioning and engines. Just before 8am, Colonel Nicholas relayed a message, received from his headset, “I can confirm change of command. Myers has taken over.134”

Captain Ochre, turned and said, “Turquoise has confirmed consolidation of passengers onto 175.”

Captain Magenta, said “First two drones in position.”

Planner sat in the center, in his command seat, and nodded. Bates, seating opposite to him, ticked off an item from his checklist.

Captain Orange announced, “Flight 11 is away.”

* * * *

Flight 175 was crowded. Inside, some passengers look nervous, one woman was openly crying. Then it too, was aloft.

* * * *

Captain Orange noticed the change in his radar display and stated, “Flight 175 has taken off.”

Planner looked at his watch, “What’s happened to Flight 93?”

“It’s still on the tarmac,” said Orange.

“Any particular problem?” asked Planner.

“Yes, two of the Rainbow Actors got off the plane just before take off^135,” said Orange wide-eyed.

Bates turned quickly, “I’ll get someone onto that. In the meantime, can you ask someone in ATC to up 93’s priority?”

“I’ll do that,” said Ochre.

Bates looked up from his check list, “Indigo, time to make your call.”

Indigo nodded and exited the Command Room to make his futile warning call.

Planner looked at Bates with a grim smile.

Magenta stated “Drone to synchronise with Flight 11 in 10 minutes.”

Planner said to Purple, “Colonel, can you ask our pilot to confirm his rendezvous at waypoint A?”

“Yes, Sir,” replied Purple.

“There’s been a minor delay on Flight 77 at Washington too. But it’s just lining up for take off now,” said Orange.

* * * *

Flight 77 took off from Dulles Airport in Washington at 8.20pm, ten minutes late. Meanwhile at Newark Airport, Flight 93, was already 20 minutes late. The plane was sitting on the runway with 38 passengers on board.

“Sorry for the delay, Flight 93,” said the air traffic controller to the Flight 93 pilot.

“Do you have an ETD, Control?” asked the pilot.

“Another ten minutes,” said the controller.

* * * *

Indigo re-entered the command room. He said, grimly. “I made the call.”

Planner forced himself to acknowledge Indigo and said grimly, “Ok. Coordinate the Flight 11 messages, Indigo.”

Colonel Purple announced, “We’re at Waypoint A.”

Bates said, “Are we ready to make switch?”

“Flight 11 is within the radar-free zone,” said Ochre.

“Drone ready,” said Magenta.

“Right. Make the switch. Radio Turq, switch off transponder, bring the airliner down. Start spoof transmissions. Alert ground teams: that we’re at Waypoint A,” said Planner.

“Spoof transmissions started,” said Ochre

“Ground team informed,” said Bates.

“Contact team, engage!” said Ochre and he waved at the contact team. Tangerine, Mint and Mahogany waved back and start talking into their headsets.

“Turquoise reporting that she’s already on the descent,” said Orange.

Magenta said, “Drone Flight 11 taken over. Moving into new Flight Plan.”

Planner took out his cell phone and tried to send Katherine another text from his phone: “Don’t go into work!”

* * * *

On a sunny New York Street close to the World Trade Center, a van with the sign “Urban Moving Systems” pulled up. The van had a logo of plane diving towards the Twin Towers.

Katherine saw the van as she crossed the street and found the logo vaguely unsettling. She continued towards the WTC Plaza, the North Tower Lobby and entered a lift.

Meanwhile, by a waterside conference center a few hundred yards away, a couple of dozen people who had emerged from the same subway train, wandered into a small lecture theatre. One of the hosts for the conference welcome them into the room and gave them a leaflet entitled “New York Office Of Emergency Management TRIPOD” and subtitled, “A training day to response to terrorist events”. Projected on a large screen above the podium was the following: “NY Office Of Emergency Management Welcomes FEMA to TRIPOD 11th-14th September 2001 at the World Trade Center.”136

Immediately under the World Trade Center Plaza, in the basement under WTC Building 4, men were loading gold bars into an armoured truck.

Within the 20th floor of the WTC North Tower, a young man looked at his watch next to a bank of twenty PC computers. When the second hand reached 12, he went past each machine pressing the ENTER key and then walked out the door, switching off the lights and locking the door. The computer glowed in the dark and alternatively displayed in text “Sell: ok” and “Transfer: ok”.137

In the street a few blocks north of the WTC, two men were videoing firemen performing work in the middle of the road. The cameraman checked his bearings. He looked south towards the twin towers and then looked north straining to see something in the skies. Yes, he was in the perfect position.

Meanwhile another photographer was finding his best spot. He lay on his back, looked straight up at the South Tower. He said to his colleague, “This is it,” and winked.

Across the river, on a rooftop with perfect view of the twin towers, five men set up a tripod with another camera.

* * * *

Colin Scoggins was hardly ever late for work. He was that day because his daughter’s school had been turned into a voting station for local elections and he had a longer than usual commute after dropping her off at the child minder. Scoggins was the supervising Air Traffic Controller at the FAA Center close to Logan Airport. His desk was at the head of a bank computer consoles each attended by an air traffic controller; each controller managed different sectors of air space and different flights. Before taking off his jacket Scoggins noticed a worried look from one of the junior controllers, Greg Allen. Scoggins went straight over to him to review the situation.

“AA Flight 11 is only at 15,000 feet but it is diverging from flight plan,” said Allen tensely. “There was some radio interference. I can’t get hold of the pilot.”

Scoggins peered hard at the screen.

Air Traffic Controller continued, “I can’t be certain… but it sounded like a hijacking.”

“No way. Surely it is still climbing,” said Scoggins in disbelief. It was unheard of for aircraft to be hijacked at such low altitudes and so soon after take-off.138 It would have still been climbing sharply.

“This guy said we have some planes but it was mixed with radio interference so I can’t be sure it was Flight 11,”139 said the ATC. “I know it sounds crazy.”

“Keep trying to contact them. I’ll escalate,” Scoggins knew instinctively that something was wrong. He pounced onto a telephone and started dialling.

* * * *

Planner looked down at his Blackberry cell phone. It said, “Message not sent. No signal”. Planner looked up with some realisation and said quietly to Bates, “Cell phones don’t work in planes.140”

“They don’t?” said Bates surprised.

“No. Look no signal!” said Planner showing the “no service” icon on the Blackberry handset.

Ochre overheard, “Right. Not above a certain height and speed. The base stations are designed for slow moving ground changes. That’s why we have a satellite link from the E4-B, though, remember. We’ve been through this… I can set up the KneeCap’s Base Station Transceiver…”

Bates’ eyes widen. He appreciated the problem immediately; much of the back story from flights 93 and 77 relied upon communication from air to ground from passengers using cell phones. Rather than replying to Ochre, Bates said to Planner, “Airphones! Need to change the back-story to airphones^141. Indigo?”

Bates looked over to Indigo.

“Now?!” said Indigo incredulously. “But the airphones don’t work either, we asked the airlines to discontinue that service last year.”

“Just cut the cell phone references. We’ll manage the back story later,” said Planner.

Indigo bounced over to the Contact Team and interrupted them, “Cell phone calls are cut. Crew communications continue, right?” Indigo looked back at Planner.

Planner nodded uneasily.

Orange said, “Flight 175 reached rendezvous zone.”

Planner said, “Prepare to switch. Wait for my say-so. Bates, are basement explosives ready?”

Bates confirmed, “Yes, synchronised.”

Orange stuttered, “Sorry, I just let the Flight 11’s impact warning go off. I’ve suppressed it.142”

“Keep Calm and Carry On,” reassured Planner. “No-one will notice.”

* * * *

Katherine entered the conference room on the ninety second floor looking worried. There were ten people in the room but not the CEO.

A smart suited male colleague greeted her, “Katherine, so glad you can make it. We’re just hooking up the video link.”

“Video link?” said Katherine aghast.

“The CEO. He’s conferencing in,” he said with a fixed smiled.

“You said he’d be here,” stammered Katherine.

“Well, he will be. By video,” continued the colleague jovially.

Katherine looked dazed and spun a look around the room and then ran for the door, “Sorry. Excuse me. I need to go. You need to go. Get out!”

The colleague turned to the others and shrugged, “Well, she did say she was sick.” The others nodded.

Katherine ran to the lift lobby, where an elevator door was closing. She had just missed it.

* * * *

At FAA Air Traffic Control, Colin Scoggins slammed a phone down. Another experienced ATC, Joseph Cooper, had recently arrived and joined the Scoggins and the worried looking junior ATC responsible for the rouge aircraft.

“These new procedures^143 don’t work,” fumed Scoggins. “We need authorisation further up the chain. We don’t have time for that.”

“Well we said they wouldn’t work,” stated Cooper sardonically.

“We need someone who can get some fighters up there. Cooper, don’t you have a direct contact in the Air Defence Sector?

“NEADS? Yes, I’ll get right on it,” said Cooper calmly.

Scoggings tossed a folder over to Cooper, “If you need them, here’s today’s code-words…”

The ATC said to Scoggins “One of the flight attendants has called Logan Airport. It’s definitely a hijacking. Flight 11 is now heading for New York!”

“Any details? Number of hijackers? Demands?” gasped Scoggins.

“Some of the flight crew have been killed. They may have a bomb,” said ATC as professionally as he could.

Cooper, on the phone, calls to Scoggins, “They’ve patched me in.”

“Keep it cool,” says Scoggins, connecting into the call via a headset.

“Hi, this is Joseph Cooper of the FAA,” said Cooper smoothly to the NEADS commander. “This is a high priority interrupt call.”

“Go on,” said the NEADS officer officiously on the end of phone.

“We have a hijacked aircraft headed towards New York, and… we need someone to scramble some F-16s or something up there, help us out,” said Cooper.

“Is this real-world or exercise?” said the officer, knowing that they were running five major aerial exercises that day.

“No, this is not an exercise, not a test,” said Cooper.

* * * *

The cameraman on the street filming the firemen’s activities looked at his watch. “Action!” he joked.

The firemen laughed back and continued their activities. The cameraman then pans north and appeared to pick out something in the sky and trace it all the way to his clear view of the WTC towers.

* * * *

In the basement of the north tower, WTC Supervising Janitor, William Rodriguez, was shocked by a massive explosion in an adjoining room.144 Several of his staff were killed instantly; some horrifically injured, skin ripped from their flesh.

Eigthy floors above, Katherine’s colleagues were focused on the face of Lewis Paul “Jerry” Bremer III^145, their CEO, on a video link. That was the last thing they ever saw. A fireball exploded at that point, the northern face, and through several floors above and to the east side of the building.146

The explosion blew down elevator shafts: cables snapped and some elevators fall.

Jerry, a mid-forties office worker, had just entered an elevator, when the plane hit. He felt the elevator shake and start to give way. He dived out of the open doors as the elevator fell; the top of the elevator just missing his legs as he did so.

Safety devices halted most elevators with the consequence of trapping the occupants inside. Some elevators inexplicably did not stop but fell, crashing downwards into the sky lobby^147. In one lift, flames blasted through the elevator door burning the occupant badly.148

Knowing the building well, when she left the meeting, Katherine knew she was not far from the sky lobby and had elected to use the stairs. She had descended several flights before the explosion. She was knocked down, bruised and cut. The stair case two floors immediately above her were wrecked. She was covered by a rocky debris and a thick layer of dust.

* * * *

“Impact,” Orange stated.

“Terminate Flight 11 transmissions,” said Planner sadly.

“175 Drone ready,” said Magenta.

Planner responded deadpan, “Black out the airliner. Tag as Old-175. Start spoof 175 transmissions. Inform ground team.”

Magenta gave a thumbs up.

“Spoof 11 terminated, 175 transmissions started,” said Orange.

Bates asked, “What’s happened to 93?”

Ochre reported, “Flight 93 has just taken off!”

Bates sighed. Bad news travels fast and Flight 93 could have been grounded.

“Old-175 to follow behind Flight 93,” commanded Planner.

“We’re getting visual confirmation from Flight 93’s chase plane,” said Magenta.

“Yes, Closet Point of Approach is one mile in 5 minutes,” said Orange.

“Ok, Make it so.” Said Planner.

“Vectors passed to Old-175, it is now following 93 to Cleveland,” said Orange.

“Very good. The only way anyone could spot that on radar would be if they had AWACS,” winked Purple.

* * * *

An elevator arrived at the North Tower 78th floor sky lobby with a ding, the door opened and a burnt occupant crawls out. A helpful man rushes to his aid. He could still walk and they started towards a stairway. They hear another person banging on another elevator door. After a few minutes trying, the helpful man calls out, “I can’t… I can’t get these doors open, Buddy. You’ll have to hang on for a bit longer, ok. I’ll bring help. I won’t forget you.”149

* * * *

Over in the South Tower on the 97th floor, a group of workers at the Fiduciary Trust Company looked in horror at the fire in the North Tower.

“What was that?” exclaimed one. “It must have been a bomb!”

A loudspeaker voice announced over the tannoy, “The office is secure. Please return to your offices.”

Another worker said, “Secure? No, I don’t like this. We ought to evacuate.”

Another one said, “They’ll be busy enough down there without us getting in the way.”

The insecure worker said, “I’m getting out of here. Suppose there’s another bomb?”

A loudspeaker voice repeated its message, “The office is secure. Please return to your offices.”

Continuing on, he said, “Aren’t you worried you’ll be trapped?”

“From here?” said the first. “I’d get out onto the observation deck! Get picked up by helicopter. Just like Ninety-Three!150”

* * * *

There was smoke swirling around the ceiling, the air was acrid; it was difficult to breath. At the stairway leading up to fire escape onto the roof, a queue of people, all covering their mouths with cloth, found the exit door was locked.

“It’s blocked! Somebody go get a fire axe,” said the man by the door.

“I thought you said you had a key,” said the man behind him.

“I do have a key. But there must be a second lock,” said the first man.

“Who the hell would lock a fire exit?” shouted someone further below.

The women behind the first two started to panic, “This smoke is going to kill us, we have to get some air!”

“Smash a window,” someone called.

A black man at the bottom of the stairs, “If you’re smashing a window then I’m getting myself a table-cloth and parachute out.”

“You’ll kill yourself,” said the man next to him.

“Break a leg, for sure. Still better than this,” he retorted.

“Someone get me an axe!” yelled the first man.

Another man said, “Or climb onto the roof? It’s been done before…”151

* * * *

Orange looked up from his radar screen, “Chase plane reports that Flight 77 has missed the rendezvous point.”

Planner shot a look over to Magenta, who looked embarrassed. “Slow down 77 and get the drone to circle around.”

Bates said “Er… what’s happening with the 175 drone? Look at the screen.”

The radar display showed Flight 175 closing towards Delta 2315. A collision detection warning was flashing on the display.

* * * *

Scoggins and Cooper were having an animated debate concerning the loss of radar contact with Flight 11 and other anomalies such as ghost tracks appearing on their screens. Within the bank of radar screens at the FAA Air Traffic Control Center, a controller was monitoring Flight 175. Mildly distracted by the commotion at the other end of the office, he noticed the potential for in-flight collision.

He waved his hand to attract his supervisor’s attention, saying “We’ve got another one”. He turned to bark into his headset microphone, “Delta 2315, Take evasive action. Aircraft heading for you on starboard side. Take evasive action.”

The pilot’s voice was calm but concerned, “Control, I can see nothing. What evasive action is recommended?”

The controller was frantic, “Aircraft descending from starboard to your altitude. On collision path! Go port”

The Pilot snapped back, “Understood! diving to port!”

* * * *

Orange looked grimly at his radar screen showing the two tracks touching and then move away. He checked the data returns from both aircraft, they were both still flying. Through gritted teeth, he said, “We just had a near miss.”

Planner said, “175? How near?”

“About as close as you can get^152,” said Orange.

Planner winced, “Keep the number of fake hijackings and simulated tracks down until the drone hits.153 Let the FAA steer other craft away. What’s happened with Flight 93? 175 is supposed to be following that to Cleveland!”

Magenta called out, “77 drone swap complete.”

Ochre reported, “Completing Flight 77 swap. Indigo, how’s the contact group transmissions going?”

Indigo trembled, “Slight delay on that. Deleting references to cell phones in the scripts and losing some tapes. Doing the best I can. I may need to keep in some key conversations. With Cell phones. They are pre-recorded, we can’t mimic them.”

Planner and Bates looked towards Indigo grimly.

“Ok, do it! Do the best you can,” said Planner. “We’ll sort out the loose ends later.”

* * * *

Katherine, covered in fine concrete dust, clothes ripped, limped into the lift lobby via a stair well. The air was full of smoke. Jerry who was directing other survivors down another stairway, came up to her.

“Are you ok?” he said.

Katherine stared back at him blankly.

Jerry said, “I thought that stairway had collapsed.”

Katherine nods and coughs, “It has.”

“Come this way,” he said. “Stairway C seems to be clear. Can you make it? We’ve got everybody alive from this floor.”

* * * *

On several TV channels, news started to trickle through. One newsreader stated, “We have just heard that an aircraft has hit one of the towers at the World Trade Center. Witnesses state that a small single engine aircraft crashed into the north tower. We hope to bring you live pictures shortly.”

* * * *

At the FAA, Cooper dejectedly hands a phone to Scoggins. “It’s Washington.”

“What’s all this about calling up fighter aircraft outside of protocol?” shouted a managerial voice.

“We’ve had one hijack and we believe we have a second,” said Scoggins.

“Stop going around protocol. We’ll mobilise the Hijack Negotiators. Can you get them on the radio? Where are they headed?”

Scoggins sighed, “I said we had one hijack. That one has crashed. The other suspect has changed course. For New York. We won’t need negotiators for this.”

The manager’s voice changed instantly as if someone had hit him in the stomach, “I’ll call NORAD. Let me know how we can help.”

“Can you set up some phone bridges? And a few prayers wouldn’t come amiss,” said Scoggins.

* * * *

Orange looks up, “USAF interceptor has taken off. An F-15. Just calculating a diversion course.”

Colonel Nicholas sighed, “NEADS are starting to make independent decisions. I’ll call the Commander in Chief and make him re-take control.”

Orange gasped, “Oh… shit… another near miss! Just 30 seconds to impact!”

* * * *

At the base of the World Trade Center South Tower, a man was listening on a military style radio while his friend, the cameraman, lay on the ground angled his lens upwards.

The cameraman said, “Just keep listening to the radio. I want to get a reaction shot.154”

The radioman said “Ok. Get rolling, though, it’s coming in fast. Four, three, two… oh my god! Oh my god!”

There was an explosion on the South Tower directly above them.

The workers on the 97th floor of the south tower were watching as they felt the impact and saw the explosion below them.

“Oh Shit!” said the first worker.

A jet engine component fell into the street and crashed into an empty taxi. A young woman was hit by the debris in the leg and was slammed back into a wall.

“These are live-pictures coming from the World Trade Center,” said a TV newsreader discussing the fire in the north tower. Then the World Trade Center South Tower exploded on the TV. “Oh… my Gawd! There’s… a major explosion from the South Tower.” The newsreader falls silent as he swears with the microphone switched off. Multiple TV cameras surrounding the tower record the explosion and the smoke plume rising from both towers.

The channel 5 helicopter was flying some distance away over New Jersey, the cameraman onboard zoomed in onto the Twin Towers where a single plume of smoke was emanating. He zoomed in again tightly framing the Twin Tower dead center within the picture. At that point, mysteriously a fast jet appeared on the right hand side of the screen and apparently ploughed into the South Tower. A fireball exploded. The camera inexplicably went to black.

On the Brooklyn side of New York, across the river from the WTC, five men next to camera tripod leapt for joy; They high-fived each other. One of them caught sight of a woman watching them from a balcony. They quickly packed up the camera and bundled into a van with an “Urban Moving Systems” logo.155

* * * *

Karl Rove taps Whitehouse official, Andrew Card, on the shoulder and nods at him. Card realised it was his job to interrupt the President. Cameras were trained on the POTUS as he was being read “The Pet Goat” at Emma E. Booker Elementary School, Saratosa, Florida. He goes up to President George W Bush and whispers into his ear, “Another plane has hit the World Trade Center. America is under attack!”

The President nods and continued to listen to the school children reading with a far away look in his eyes.156

* * * *

Planner, Orange, Ochre, Purple and Bates gathered to watch the TV news on one of the displays. Indigo, Magenta and others stayed at their stations. Planner watched the live newsfeed and noticed it went black for a second before live broadcasts resumed. Planner returned to his seat rather miserably rubbing his chin. He slumped into his seat. Bates turned and his eyes narrowed as he noticed Planner’s body language.

* * * *

In the North Tower, Katherine and Jerry joined a group of ten people descending the stairs.

“What’s up?” said Jerry.

A woman below turned and stammered, “There’s a locked door. Why would there be a locked door on an emergency exit?”

“So what are we doing? Is there another way down?” said Jerry.

Somebody else called up to him. “There’s firemen on the other side. We just have to wait until they bust through.”

Katherine sat down on the steps and rocked gently back and forth.

* * * *

Within Office of the Vice Chief Of Naval Operations, at the Pentagon, Chief Lafleur^157 was walking past an office open area which featured a wall mounted TV displaying the news channel and replaying the impact on the South Tower. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed. “Look at that!”

Captain Toti and Commander Radi sprung out of their offices and looked agog at the TV screen. Lafleur repeated the Holy Shit mantra a few more times while holding his head.

“A daylight attack?! This must be terrorists!” said Toti.

“Two planes?” said Radi. “That’s unreal!”

“This is organised!” said Toti. “If they can do two then they can do three… The next target to hit after WTC… is here. Washington, for sure. We’re next.”

“The White House?” said Radi.

“No. Too small,” mused Toti. “Here. The Pentagon is dead easy to spot from the air.”

“They’d never get through our air defences. Our missiles,” said Radi.

Lafleur turned and said bitterly, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. The defences are mobile I doubt whether they’ll be available.”

* * * *

Scoggins was surrounded by animated FAA staff. Someone called out to Scoggins waving a phone, “It’s NORAD”.

“Scoggins here,” he said taking the phone.

A NORAD Intelligence Officer blasted down the phone, “What’s the fuck’s going on?”

“Two hijacked aircraft. Both crashed!” said Scoggins bitterly.

“I know that!” continued the angry man. “Why weren’t we told? We could have done something!”

Scoggins said, summoning as much patience he could muster, “We called you 40 minutes ago. And before you say anything else, note that we have four other potential hijackings, that we can’t accurately track.”

“Shit!” said the NORAD guy, stunned.

“We’ve set up a phone bridge with NEADS. We’re trying to share data but having some issues with track correlation. Perhaps you’d like to sort that out your end? The hijackers have switched off their transponders. We’re getting spurious ghost tracks from NORAD. We’re not getting primary returns.”

“Ghost tracks?”

“Yeah. Fake information. Simulated tracks^158 maybe?”

“I’ll get onto it,” said the contrite NORAD officer. He signed off with another, albeit apologetic, expletive.

* * * *

Planner leaned over towards Indigo, “How’s it coming along, Indigo?”

Indigo was typing furiously into his computer keyboard, “I need more time!” he croaked.

Planner said, “Magenta, slow down the drones. Switch off drone-77’s transponder. Delay the 93 switch.”

Nicholas piped up, “Two F-16s were just about to take off. I’ve managed to delay them but only by returning them to affix missiles.”

Planner replied, “We need more widespread delays. Have you any ideas?”

“Yes, I have a back-up plan,” said Nicholas.

“JFDI,” said Planner.

Bates said, “Starting phase 1 of north tower demolition.”

Planner looked at Bates with some alarm.

* * * *

Janitor William Rodriguez unlocked emergency doors within stairways, in the North Tower, to allow firemen, entry further into the building and also free people descending the stairs. They reach the 30th floor where Katherine and a dozen others were held up. But just as the door was being unlocked, they heard loud bbuh-der, bbuh-der, bbuh-der of synchronised explosions from the four corners of the central elevator area.

“What the hell was that?” said one of firemen.

“Bombs in the building! They’re trying to bring it down!” said another.

Several people, leaning out the window to avoid the smoke, were ejected from the North Tower by the explosions, to fall 90 stories to their death on the WTC plaza pavement.159

* * * *

“Bates,” Planner said. “The demolition phasing needs to be delayed.”

“No, we need to accelerate the demolition,” retorted Bates forcefully.

“That’s a change of plan,” said Planner with an edge.

“A delay or a change? Which is it?” replied Bates with more edge.

Purple noted this exchange with some concern.

Then all eyes were drawn to Nicholas when he announced, “Otis National Guard have just gone onto war footing. They’ll be launching two interceptors shortly.”

* * * *

Katherine and Jerry continued to follow a slow moving queue down the stairs, with some fireman walking up them.

“Damn radios aren’t working,” said one fireman to another.

Another round of extreme-disco sounding explosions were heard and felt. One of the firemen twisted his body around following the progression of the explosions around the building.

“Holly Cow!” he exclaimed. “Synchronised explosions? We’re in shit creek!”

The other fire fighter nodded sternly and kept walking upwards.

* * * *

About this time, a rotund black man ran into the Mayor’s Emergency Management Office inside WTC7. Barry Jennings^160 was a civil servant responding as expected by his training, burst into the WTC7 Emergency Management Office but found no one there. Although there was a steaming cup of coffee and papers on the desks; obviously people had just left.

He did not take long to decide that he too would evacuate. Barry took the emergency stairs down from the 20th floor. About half way down, a bomb marked “WTC7-7-1” strapped to a pillar inside the elevator shaft, started to vibrate as it received its computer controlled signal to explode. The cell phone device took just a few microseconds to identify the security code it had received to activate the detonator. The Komatsu-Dresser termite bomb efficiently fulfilled its mission; the stairs two floors below Barry were blown to pieces. He fell back, amazingly unharmed by the blast, but tumbled down the stairs and nearly fell into the gapping hole created by the explosion.

* * * *

Captain Ochre’s eyes widen, “Now there are cell phone calls going out from the aircraft! From 77!”

“How can that happen?” gasped Nicholas.

“It’s from us. I switched on the internal CDMA Transceiver. We’re now acting as a base-station transceiver. The calls are hopping from the planes following us over to our satellite link.”

“Talk English!” snapped Bates.

“The calls are connecting up through our network link!” retorted Ochre. Various jaws were dropping in the Command Room. Ochre punched a few keys. “Ok, I’ve blotted out the calls from 77 and suppressing them. Hopefully there’s no reaction from the ground.” Softly to Planner he added, “After our previous chat about cell phones, I switched it on. Sorry I wasn’t thinking.”

Bates snarled, “I’ll alert the crew management team.”

Planner said quietly with edge, “Crew management? This isn’t part of the plan either…”

Indigo was also indignant, “There shouldn’t be any calls from 77… except my pre-arranged calls. There shouldn’t be anybody onboard!”

Bates sarcastically replied, “Well, we all know that some of you are delicate little flowers… firewalled off from some of life’s harsher realities.”

Planner said cautiously, “So… you’ve loaded some ordinary Joes onto the aircraft?”

Bates said, “Fake stories and legends always unravel; we needed real victims. You should know that. Hey, you wanted better legends…”

Planner said, “And he flight crews?”

“Being managed, yes,” said Bates in a superior tone. This meant that the crew had no idea of the mission they were involved in; a CIA team would have exclusive communication with the flight crew and were following their instructions through an encrypted communication channel.

Planner looked over to Purple, when he responded to Bates, “And tidied up back at base?”

Purple nodded uncertainly.

Indigo interrupted softly but shaking to contain his anger, “Not only more collateral damage but this could upset everything; the manifests, back-story. This is completely reckless.”

Planner reassured him, “Spin it out, Indigo. In the meantime, Bates, I need a word. Colonel Nicholas, can you delay the air force further?”

“Sure,” said Nicholas, cracking his knuckles.

“How?” asked Planner.

“The Commander in Chief will er… be in his car,161” said Nicholas airily.

Planner and Bates walked out of the control room watched intently by Purple.

* * * *

In Montanna, the state governor, Judy Martz, was on a podium at the start of FEMA State Emergency Managers meeting in Montana where there are about 200 attendees.

“It’s my pleasure to welcome FEMA Director, Joseph Allbaugh, and senior representatives from the emergency management agencies of 47 states, to Montana. For this conference organised by the National Emergency Management Association,” said Martz.

A cell phone started to ring. She peered at the person with offending phone. “The subject for today,” she continued as a pager went off, “is the issue of terrorism and weapons of mass destruction.” Four more cell phone started ringing and along with several pagers. Martz continued genially over the noise, “Not something we know too much about in my State…”

At that point there was a cacophony of cell phones and pagers. A young man raced onto the stage and alerted Martz to the news, who looked shocked. She later declared a state of emergency and an exclusion zone around the conference center, fearing for the lives of the FEMA State Emergency Managers.162

* * * *

Planner and Bates entered the E4-B’s Small Conference Room.

“So, Bates. Are you going to explain the flight crew management?” said Planner trying, but failing, to achieve a pleasant tone of voice.

“Just a little improvement since we were rather short of flight crew we could trust. The job was delegated to me, if you remember,” said Bates innocently.

“How many other improvements do you have? Faster tower collapses, real victims, your own escape?” needled Planner.

Bates paused momentarily, “You know, that is quite insightful, Robert. But really I wasn’t expecting these improvements to change the plans.”

“Because you’ve run them past the COG?” said Planner in a mocking tone.

“Right… Hey, you’re not forgetting the big picture here, Planner? The time for worrying about collateral damage has long gone,” Bates said expansively.

Colonel Purple burst into the room, angrily, “If you two ladies have finished, we have some unfinished business to attend to.”

Bates smiled and left the room, walking past Purple.

When Planner was close, Purple whispered angrily, “The president is about to do a TV address! He’s a sitting duck! I just heard through security channels that a foriegn TV crew tried to see him earlier; an unscheduled visit! They were let in, nearly got through. They may have been assassins!163”

“Maybe someone has a plan for a Coup D’etat. Let’s hope we’re not part of it,” sighed Planner.

Purple’s eyes widened!

* * * *

In his impromptu television address from the Emma E. Booker Elementary School, Sarasota, surrounded by kids and teachers, President Bush called for two minutes silence for the dead. However the vast majority of the people that were to die that day were at that time, still alive within in the burning World Trade Center towers.

In the North Tower, a woman stood and waved from the impact point hole. Below her were dozens of faces pressed against the windows on the North Tower.

Meanwhile, evacuation of the South Tower was going smoothly. Thousands of office workers were streaming out of the building including the workers from the 97th floor. They had found a staircase that took them past the impact zone floors. Some in the South Tower also tried to exit onto the roof but, just like the North Tower, found the roof exit doors locked. On the ground floor, fire fighters continued to arrive, strapping on equipment to walk up the 70 floors to the impact zone.

One fire fighter shouted to another above the screech of the fire alarm, “There’s secondary explosions in the north tower.”

The other fire fighter shouted back, “Explosions? You’re sure?”

“That’s what they say,” replied the first. “They’re professionals, aren’t they?”

The second fire fighter shrugged “Right.” He looked up with a grim expression, “Shit.” He tightened up a belt and announced grimly, “Let’s get going, I suppose.”

The fire fighters started on their final journey.

* * * *

Ed Balinger was the air traffic controller handling Flight 93. He was sending out the warning to all aircraft in flight in his patch. The warning read “Hijackings! Beware of cockpit intrusion” to all of the pilots in his domain. Pilots responded via the ACARS messaging system to acknowledge the message. Flight 93 responded with “Hi, Ed. Confirmed.”

* * * *

Purple and Planner re-entered the Command Room.

Bates had already sat down and had a smirk on his face, barely looking at his checklist, he said genially, “Time for the 93 switch?”

Orange responded, “93 is at Cleveland with old-175 following behind. All ready to go. Just waiting for your say-so.”

Planner said, “Ok, switch. Old-175 needs to stay in a holding pattern for 20 minutes before switching its transponder back on and requesting to land. So are you going to manage 93 down, Bates?”

Bates returned a sarcastic smile. Orange turned back to his console.

Indigo muttered, “This is the big one. It’ll take about 30 minutes to unfold the storyline.”

Magenta said, “Synchronising with crash point. Note that we’ve slipped about 15 minutes. Drone 93 taken over. Old-93 will be vectored to our position.”

Orange stated, “Old-77 and chase plane vectored to our position.”

Nicholas stated, “Delaying inceptors off the coast, but the E.T.A. in Washington is 0-8-40; I’ve instructed them to chase a phantom.164 But we have another problem! Another E4-B is due to take off. They’ll be up in half an hour, flying from Washington. Once that goes up, we’ll be spotted for sure as they link into the AWACS radar feed. They may have already connected up.”

“Were we aware of that? A second E-4B?” asked Planner concerned.

“It’s news to me. Frankly I hadn’t considered two KneeCaps to be operational and certainly not one flying out of Washington,” said Nicholas clearly bemused.

“Thanks,” said Planner. Planner looked over to Bates who was looking intently at his computer monitor. Planner was sure that Bates would have heard that exchange. He tapped his forehead just for a second before hesitantly issuing a new order, “Captain Ochre, er… send this message to Air Force One…”

“Yes, Sir,” said Ochre in good military style.

Planner said, “Message to read Angel is Next^165. Supply today’s code reference for authentication.”

“Yes, Sir. Which set of codes; Secret, Top Secret?” said Ochre, puzzled.

“Use Top Secret Atomic^166. Also, Bates, tell the ground crews to generate some rumors too that Camp David has been hit and the White House is in flames. Make sure it’s untraceable,” Planner added.

Bates turned towards to Planner wide eyed. “Ok,” he said after a momentary pause.

“That’s a warning, right?” said Indigo to Planner. “Angel is Air Force One.”

“There seems to be… er… some alternative scenarios, that we just need to nip in the bud,” replied Planner cautiously.

Purple nodded firmly.

Bates said sarcastically, “This all seems rather superfluous, Planner.”

Planner replied to Bates testily, “I’m just making sure this Big Event^167 isn’t like the last one.”

Chapter Sixteen: Pentagon

The Police had closed a few of the roads leading up to the Pentagon, causing more than the usual traffic chaos on the South Washington Boulevard, the VA-27. It had delayed April Gallop’s return to work; her first day back after maternity leave. She carried her baby in the car seat into the office. April entered in the Pentagon South Entrance lobby and into the security area and offered her security pass to a Security Guard.

April said, “I need to take my baby to the nursery.”

The Security Guard seemed blase, “That’s ok. You can proceed straight to your office.”

“You’re letting me and baby through? It is a secure area, you know,” queried April.

The Security Guard did not make eye contact, “It’s ok,” he said.

April raised her eyebrows but was happy enough to have her baby with her.

* * * *

In the Pentagon’s operations room on the other side of building,168 Veep Dick Cheney and military staff were watching events unfold on a large projected map. A TV set was displaying the news in one corner. Most people in the room were on the phone except the Vice-President. Norman Minetta, Transport Minister, entered the Operations Room with his political aide.

Naval Officer David Cohrane was standing close to the Vice-President and announced, “Target is 50 miles out.”

There was hushed stillness in the room, an expectation of something else was going to happen.

Norman Minetta whispered to his aide, “Where’s Rumsfeld?”

The aide shrugged.

* * * *

Laura Bush and Senator Edward Kennedy were on the steps of the Russell Building, a short distance away from the White House and Capitol to give a TV press conference.169 These two buildings would be considered by most commentators to be high on the list of potential terrorist targets; however, this did not seem to concern the security staff looking after the First Lady and the veteran senator.

* * * *

Cohrane announced, “Target is 30 miles out.”

* * * *

April Gallop finally reached her desk near in the E ring, near the outer western edge of the Pentagon. She bantered with fellow E-Ring office workers who were happily fussing over her baby.

* * * *

Cohrane announced, “Target is 10 miles out.” Hesitating, he turned to the Vice President, “Do the orders still stand?”

Chaney snapped his around to Cohrane and snapped, “Of course the orders still stand! Have you heard anything to the contrary?”

On a radar screen, the target is seen to overfly the Pentagon, Minetta’s aide breathes out in relief, but then he saw the target start a huge circular descending turn: corkscrewing down to the Pentagon. The aide whispered to Minetta. “Gawd, can an airliner do that?”

* * * *

On radar, the aircraft could be tracked. Unbelievably, it pulled out of the dive, and after the high-g, 270 degree corkscrew turn had aligned itself perfectly to aim directly at the Pentagon.170 It flew at the limits of speed possible for a Boeing 757, beyond anything that has been achieved before or since, at such low altitudes; low over housing estates, golf courses and, surprisingly (and inexplicably), lower than at antenna aerial at a nearby military base in its direct path. And in an action seemingly modelled from a Hollywood movie^171, also apparently knocked over 5 lampposts along the highway next to Pentagon.172

* * * *

April Gallop and the other E ring office workers were unaware of the impeding disaster. April’s finger hovered over her computer’s power button.

As-if caused by April’s button push, there was a huge explosion, flying debris, noise, shock waves and fireball. It was followed by blackness, dust clouds, collapsing material, the rage of fire. From the blasting white noise of the explosion specific noises could be detected: rubbles, raging fire, screams, cries of agony.

In the dark, smoky gloom a frantic glow appeared. It was a man on-fire; he was running and yelling. He crashed into column and collapsed. He did not survive.

April groaned and removed dust and debris from on top of her. She was covered with cuts and grazes, twisted aching limbs, but in one piece. April stirred and sat up, ears ringing but deaf to the noise. She cleared debris from her eyes then looked around increasingly panic-stricken.

Sunlight started to radiate through the smoke as it cleared. There was a 20 foot diameter hole in the outer wall. Behind her, fire and smoke, April called out. The ringing in her ears diminished and she heard her baby.

Another e-ring office worker covered in dust also uninjured. She put a hand on April’s shoulder and indicated the direction of the baby from the sound of his crying. They jointly cleared the debris and found the baby, upset but uninjured. They exited the hole in the outer hole, limping onto the lush, untouched grass of the Pentagon Lawn.

A fireman came rushing up.

The e-ring office worker said to the fireman to help April then re-entered the building to help more survivors.

April, coughing, said to the fireman, “You got here quick!”

The fireman, helped April carry her baby away from the impact point, “We were warned to expect a plane crash.”

April coughed, “Plane crash? That was no plane crash. That was a bomb. No plane came through there!”173

Their conversation was interrupted. The fire alarm from the neighboring wedge started piercing the air with a loud Woop-Woop-Woop. The fireman shrugged and went back to the rescue work. 174

* * * *

Nicholas stated, “Two F-18s with live missiles have launched and closing in on drone-93.”

Planner said, “Break off the Chase Aircraft. Get them clear.”

* * * *

Two fire fighters in the South Tower office workers meet a group of office workers coming down the stairs. These were the last people the fire fighters were ever going to see.

“There’s explosions going off up there…” said a woman, scared.

“Ok. Just get out as quick as you can,” said the first fire fighter.

“Seen any fires?” said the second fireman.

Another one of the office workers said “Around the eightieth floor. This staircase will take you past them. The fires are on the other side.”

The fire fighters nodded and continued up.

* * * *

Bates gnashed his teeth, “The ground teams are reporting problems both at the Pentagon and in New York.”

Planner said, “Go on.”

Bates pointed to a map of the Pentagon on his computer screen. Red lights were showing up on the lawn and inside the Pentagon Ring C. “The Pentagon has the most immediate problem. Two sets of explosives have failed: One on the lawns outside, the other in the computer room.”

Planner said, “Ignore the lawn. There’s probably TV crews and Rumsfeld out there by now. Is there a team to get inside and take down the computers?”

“Yes,” said Bates, “I’ve anticipated both decisions: there’s a team on its way.”

“And New York?” asked Planner.

Bates used his computer to select a 3D wireframe model of the World Trade Center showing the twin towers, and associated buildings in the complex; WTC7 is actually further north than WTC1, the North Tower. “In New York, an explosive has gone off early in WTC7 on the seventh floor at the very point we positioned our communications relay. We can no longer control that demolition remotely. Another problem is that firemen are progressing to the impact zone faster than expected in the South Tower compared with the North Tower.

Planner said, “They’re not supposed to be progressing at all. The explosives should have driven them back and out.”

“More courage than sense, I guess,” said Bates, pursing his lips.

“Crazy fools,” Indigo said to himself.

“Issue a withdrawal order by radio. They have fifteen minutes. Reverse the collapse sequence: South Tower first. WTC7 will have to be sorted later,” said Planner.

“We have some smoke generators for decoys,” said Bates.

Planner said, “Sure. Use them once the North Tower comes down. You need to call in a ground team with thermal imaging^175 and fire resistant suits. Move TV crews and photographers away from the area.”

Bates replied haughtily, “Already done.”

* * * *

At the Naval Command Center, a secondary explosion destroys the department and all its computers. A Naval Officer is caught by the blast. He screamed and ran from the room with his arms on fire, shouting for medical assistance.

On the Pentagon lawn, Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld, finally made an appearance. He had previously been un-contactable for the duration of the crisis until captured by TV crews. He helped to carry the injured. He seemed strangely unconcerned about the reports of other hijackings and decided that a photo opportunity was the best use of his time.

Several TV journalists noted that there was minimal aircraft debris. There were reports from witnesses claiming that debris was being dropped, then photographed and then moved away.176^177

* * * *

Bates and Planner were listening intently on their headsets. Ochre had patched in the radio from the fire teams in the South Tower.

“Just coming up to 78th floor,” huffed Fire Chief Palmer defying his advancing years to be first on the scene.

“Copy that,” came a voice on the radio.

“Ladder 15, we’ve got two isolated pockets of fire. We should be able to knock it down with two lines,”178 said Palmer. Clearly the fires in the South Tower were dying down quickly.

Bates said caustically to Planner, “They’ve ignored the warnings. We got to do it now!”

Planner puffed and sighed, “Start cutting the corners of the towers at the collapse point.”

* * * *

Seconds later, molten metal started pouring from edge of the South Tower.179

Police were directing people away from towers. For most people that was exactly what they wanted to do. Ferries were making impromptu docks all the way around the lower part of the island of Manhattan. Only emergency traffic was allowed into the city, the bridges were packed with people walking from the city.

A TV crew close the bottom of the twin towers was providing live reports on the state of the rescue operation when they felt a rumble. The cameraman panned up to the South Tower’s pluming explosion, seemingly right on top of them. It was exploding outwards and downwards, with steel beams being flung horizontally from the building at 70 mph and embedding into nearby skyscrapers. Squibs, explosive jets of material, could be seen ejecting in advance of the wave of debris falling through the air. The building fell almost as fast as the debris accelerating towards the ground.

The explosive collapse sent billowing, pyroclastic-like dust clouds radiating in all directions. The cloud consumed cars and people. Some cars close to the building burst into flames; set off by thermite used within the towers to weaken the structure; this easily burn through the thin metal of car bodies and ignited the fuel in their tanks. Some people were caught in the heated dust cloud and collapsed, coughing and suffocating. Most were able to outrun the lethal stage of the cloud or went indoors. Katherine was one of those. She ducked into a shop as the plume of dust so thick, that as it went past, the shop went dark. She fell to floor gasping for breath; her legs heavy and leaden with the stress of descending within the North Tower for 90 stories. The shop owner came over to her, helped her sit up and gave her a bottle of water. They cried together until daylight returned.

An armored van carrying gold, attempting to drive up a basement ramp out of the WTC complex, was caught by a falling beam. The driver jumped out and ran for his life.180

A woman in an apartment overlooking the scene cried out, “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!”

* * * *

Except for Tangy, Minty and Moggy, still playing out the fight back on Flight 93, the rest of the Rainbow Team watched the TV screen of the South Tower collapsing. Most of the team were as shocked as any other American that day even though the events of the day had been known to them, the reality was as shocking to them as anyone else. Planner ground his teeth in guilt and despair. His mind replayed his memories of the events leading to the destruction of his soul and wondered whether he could ever look anybody normal in the eye again.

Such worries did not trouble Bates, “I’ve alerted the ground crew to expect demolition of the north tower in 20 minutes.”

Planner nodded slowly.

Bates turned to Planner, puzzling over the unplanned events. His eyes narrowed and started forming some words. But then a new crisis occurred.

Orche stated without emotion, “Two F-16s, closing in on Drone-93”

“They are armed,” said Nicholas emphatically.

“What are their orders?” asked Planner.

“Shoot-Down,” said Ochre.

“Can we change the orders?” said Bates.

“Maybe. I’m onto it,” said Nicholas.

Ochre stated, “Too Late. Missile away. Impact in just a few seconds.”

Indigo was staring blankly, open-mouthed. The computer screen showed a missile dot closing in on drone-93 dot.

“Impact,” said Ochre blandly.

There was silence in the command room.

After a few seconds, Orange stated, “Old-77 and Old-93 still following us. Chase planes returning back to base.”

“We need to get back to bases as soon as possible. That second E4-B will be taking off shortly and we’ll be spotted by them, for sure,” said Nicholas

“I’ll inform flight crew,” said Purple.

“Insert more dummy tracks. Make the tracks military. We’ll hide in the herd,” said Planner. “In the meantime, keep the Flight 93 spoof transmissions going for a couple more minutes, Orange. You too, Indigo.181

“Onto it,” said Orange.

“Bates,” Planner continued. “Get the ground crew to activate the 93 crash site as best they can.”

“Already done,” said Bates tartly.

“We can resolve the story later. Indigo? Indigo?” said Planner, looking over to dishevelled man transfixed on his computer screen. Indigo raised his hand in acknowledgement but did not look around.

Bates was clearly irritated. He sprung his hands together and pursed his lips, before saying, “Planner. A word?”

Planner and Bates stared at each other for a moment before Planner sprang from his seat.

Purple was not amused that Bates and Planner had left the control room again.

* * * *

Due to radio communications failure, fire fighters inside the North Tower did not receive any evacuation order; most were unaware that the South Tower had already gone.

An NYPD helicopter was circling the Twin Towers aghast at the scene below them. Having seen the South Tower blow up, the aviation unit studied the north tower intensely. One of the passengers said, “Look at the top of the tower. It might be leaning.”

They circled around and he exclaimed, “It is buckling! Look on the southwest corner. It’s leaning to the south.”

Suddenly there was a downward movement in the 100 foot antenna on top of the North Tower. The top block of the building above the impact point appeared to rotate almost in its own footprint before, apparently, turning into dust. A huge plume of debris sprung out of the building and the building unravelled down its whole length with small squibs of material ejecting from the building in front of the debris wave. The building had descended at about the speed and acceleration as any of the jumpers seen falling from the building just a few minutes earlier. It had almost completely disappeared. In the space where the North Tower used to be, strikingly, a single steel column of the interior central structure stood alone. About twenty stories tall, it wobbled in the air for a few seconds before that too came straight down, hiding in its own minor dust cloud and looking like it had vanished in a magic trick. None of the twin towers main interior columns, which were progressively thicker and stronger the whole length of the building, remained standing. However, ten stories of the weaker outer columns stood bent like petals of a flower at the location soon to be known as Ground Zero; a term previously only used for the epicentre for a nuclear blast.

The twin towers had only stood for 102 minutes after the first aircraft impact.

Three hundred and forty three fire fighters died in the Twin Towers. No one person was able to escape from above the impact zone in the North Tower after it was hit, as all stairwells and elevator shafts on those floors had been destroyed or blocked. Some of the blockages were locked fire doors, not only to the roof but also to the ground.

* * * *

Planner and Bates entered the Small Conference Room. Planner slumped in a chair and held his head with both hands.

“Why did you do that?” asked Bates softly.

“What?” said Planner.

“Building 7. You set up the bombing sequence. You changed it and stopped the building from coming down,” said Bates carefully.

“The bombs were planted incorrectly, I think you’ll find,” said Planner tersely.

“Hmm. I checked that personally,” said Bates leaning with both arms on the table. “They were correctly laid. Do you want me to recall all the numbers for you? I can do that if you want. No, it had to be you. That eleventh hour change you made.”

“You don’t trust me, huh?” smiled Planner. “I guess a member of the shadow team, wouldn’t!”

“Oh touche, Robert. CO-INTEL doesn’t trust anyone. Especially someone that seems to have…” he said with disgust, “…empathy. Someone like you! Your mind wasn’t totally on the job, was it?”

Planner tried to fake a puzzled expression.

“Emotional weakness. Your lady friend,” said Bates.

But now, Planner could not hide his shock.

“Of course, I know! We know,” said Bates with daggers. “What do you take us for, Robert? We’ve been thinking… isn’t it a bit stupid of you to get emotionally attached to someone earmarked as collateral damage?”

Planner’s mouth dropped.

“It was good of you to keep her in the dark, though, about the Big Event,” said Bates with glee. “The ground team reports she dutifully went into the office today. Sorry.”

Planner looked away, “Shit.” Planner held his head and said quietly, “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“But what were you thinking, Robert? By sparing WTC7, were you trying to save her work to bring down Enron? As-if that was going to happen! You’ve just delayed the buildings destruction by an hour or so.”

“Oh, I know it’ll come down,” said Planner with voice wobbling slightly. “I expect it to. But it’s just going to be like JFK’s magic bullet: a bit difficult to explain.”

“Ah, you admit it then? You admit it!?”

Planner was silent.

“But you think people are ever going to worry about something like that? They won’t even hear about it. And even if they do, we’ll have an expert to explain it away. What on an earth were you expecting to achieve?”

“I cut out cancer,” said Planner recovering himself. “I don’t cause it. The anomalies will be spotted. Society will know and correct itself.” Planner took out shaded glasses and puts them on to hid any redness he suspected may be forming in his eyes.

“Oh give me a break! What warped sense of morality do you have? Killing 20, 200, 2000 innocents? It’s still more than one! That’s where the morality line is!” mocked Bates, “Using aircraft as surgical weapons? Bah. How do you even know there were any aircraft?” he taunted

“What?”

“Suppose we switched plans? Rather than use drones we used the Psyop-7’s plan: no planes at all?”

“That’s impossible?” gasped Planner.

“A cheaper, more reliable plan? You think the COG wouldn’t go for that?” Bates teased.

“But we were flying the drones?”

“Or were you flying virtual drones, pretending to be drones, pretending to be civil aircraft. I have sizeable bonus payment to bet you that you couldn’t tell the difference!” he beamed.

“The aircraft investigations will be the judge of that!” croaked Planner.

“There will be none. No-one will ever find out. We’re playing the Big Lie^182. The bigger the lie, the more likely it is to be believed. Basic PsyOps,” Bates lectured. “You can’t correct human nature.”

“I know the theory, Bates,” said Planner. “We all know our Sun Tzu and Machiavelli. But these theories were developed before video tape and forensic science. People are not as stupid as you think. They don’t need eidetic memory when they have video on the destruction of the Twin Towers and Building Seven. They will work it out. You know which science is going to win out in the long run? Between psychology and physics?”

“The long run?” sneered Bates. “I think you need to be worrying more about the next five minutes rather than the next five centuries. Five centuries is about the time it will take to unravel this one.”

Colonel Purple burst angrily into the room. “I don’t believe I have to do this again!”

Planner stood and regaining his full confidence said, “Hi, Colonel. Thanks for coming in. Another change of plan, I’m afraid. We need to do some tidying up early…”

Planner pointed aggressively at Bates.

Bates snorted in derision, “Really?” Then he saw the look in Purple’s eyes and lost his smile. “Hey, wait a minute, Colonel.”

Planner said sarcastically, “If only we had the time…”

Bates said, “I have the authorization. I do the tidying up!”

“For a coup d’etat, maybe,” said Planner.

The Colonel took out a taser.

“What?” said Bates, confused.

“I’m in counter-counter-intelligence, Master Bates! You’ve lied to the team, you’ve lied to me. I suspect you are allied to a revolutionary plot to assassinate the President. I don’t have the time to give you a fair trial on this. You have been sanctioned,” said Planner with his voice rising above Bates’ spluttering protests. “Please expedite, Colonel!”

Bates stopped pleading. His fight-or-flight reaction kicked in. He sprung at Planner letting out a loud growl at the same time. He’d got his hands around Planner’s neck and started throttling him.

Bates then stopped rigid as Purple activated the taser; thin wires darted into him and deliver its charge and froze his muscular control. Bates released his grip and vibrated down to the ground. Planner felt a touch of the charge but was free, gasping and rubbing his neck.

“Excuse me, Sir,” said Purple. He made the taser safe, bent down and twisted Bates’ neck sharply. He was dead. “It’s a long time since I’ve had to do that.”

“Sorry, Colonel. It’s a horrible business,” wheezed Planner. “Wheels within wheels on this one.”

“So I understand. The President is about to take off,” said Purple.

“Right. We need to make sure he is safe. I think Bates was involved in the plot against him. Hence that warning message.”

“Angel is next?” asked Purple.

“Right,” said Planner. “Wouldn’t surprise me if this other E4-B, the one about to take off from Washington, is something to do with it too.”

“This is a messy business,” said Purple.

“Right. That’s why we need you guys,” smiled Planner.

They exited the room and paused in the corridor. Purple said, “I’ll lock this door. We can sort this out once we land.”

“Good idea,” said Planner. “I need to freshen up.”

“Don’t be long. We need you,” said Purple grimly.

Planner hurried to the back of the aircraft along the starboard-side corridor and into the E4B Rest Room, slamming the door behind him and stood panting. He looked at the luggage piled against the bunk beds. Planner sprang forward to locate Bates’ carry-on bag. He found it quickly but it was locked. Planner looked around and found a toolbox. Inside was a Box Cutter^183. He looked up to the heavens knowingly; he bent down in order to slice open the bag around the zip but his hands started to shake violently. He steadied his hand and then consciously started to breathe. He closed his eyes and when he reopened them, noticed a bolt cutter in the toolbox. Using the bolt cutter on the padlock, he gained entry into the bag. He uncovered an envelope. Inside were a passport, official documentation and bankcards. Planner took the envelope and opened his own carry-on open bag and put the envelope inside. He placed his own padlock on Bate’s bag and sealed it.

* * * *

Having splashed some water over his face from a bottle, Planner re-entered the Command Room, red-faced, dripping and shaking. His entrance was barely noticed. The Rainbow Team were watching the North Tower collapse. Planner looked over to Purple.

“I confirmed the order,” Purple said.

“Thanks. Ok, let’s get these flights down. I think we all want to get back on the ground now,” said Planner wiping a drip from his chin.

“Indigo,” said Ochre and was able to stretch back and nudge him, “you still had a 93 transmission running. I’ve closed it down now.”

“Ok, right. Thanks,” said Indigo dejectedly.184

* * * *

At Tinker Air Base, the Rainbow Team left their bus and entered into the airbase reception. A TV was on and a newscaster was estimating the number people killed to be 10,000.

Planner, Purple and Ochre walked through with their bags into an open area. Following them were Indigo and Nicholas and other members of the Rainbow Team. However, their path was blocked. A burly security guard directed them to another channel that had a baggage check machine and X-Ray body scanner at its end.

In a side office, Planner was given a brief case filled with new dollar bills. He was then able to skip the mission-briefing meeting and able to leave from the front of the terminal building. Even though it was a military air base, the terminal building was just like any other airport terminal building, albeit with extra security. Planner walked a short distance out to the main gate. He showed his CIA pass and was allowed to leave. There was a taxi rank outside. He asked to be driven to the nearest AVIS Auto Rental office.

Driving past the back of the terminal building, Planner saw large plastic crates were being rolled into the back of a van marked “Biological Hazard”.

Chapter Seventeen: Ground Zero

There were 2753 people killed on 9/11 in New York. Workers have recovered 22,000 body parts, identifying 1254 victims. But for 1198 victims there were no remains. There were less than 300 intact bodies; only 12 of these could be identified by visual recognition. The high level of dismemberment indicated explosive force would be their cause of death, although this was never discussed on TV or in the papers. In 2006, many small body parts were found on top of nearby skyscrapers over 400 feet away from the twin towers, flung there in the micro-seconds that the twin towers remained above 43 stories.185 The DNA evidence was handled by two laboratories: the one in New York was a private laboratory set up by a friend of Mayor Rudi Giuliani. The other in Washington which handled the Pentagon and Shanksville Crash was, after a minor dispute with the local Police, managed by the military.

Each news channel had experts on hand to describe the perpetrators of the attack: Al Qaeda and Osama Bin Laden.186 One of them was Katherine’s boss: Paul Bremer; not only CEO of Marsh Crisis Consulting, the risk and insurance services subsidiary of Marsh amp; McLennan Companies Inc, but he was also a counter terrorism expert (and later to be Governor of occupied Iraq). At WTC, a passport supposedly from one of the hijackers was handed to Police Chief Kerik^187. This news was quickly reported via a TV newscaster, with the addition, “…if you can believe that!”

Osama Bin Laden was mentioned as the most likely villain even before the twin towers had collapsed. The overwhelming majority of the public had not previously heard this name before; not even security staff at airports had heard of his name. Another of the TV talking heads that morning talked about Osama Bin Laden. This was Jerome Hauer, Managing Director of Kroll Associates, who was contracted to Silverstien Enterprises. Hauer had recruited John O Neil, the FBI Osama Bin Laden specialist that had just started worked at the WTC. John O Neil’s body was found, intact, 11 days after 9/11 at the bottom of a stairwell in the South Tower. His body was on the twelve that could be identified by sight alone. He was identified by Jerome Hauer.188

After the towers had collapsed, a man in the street was able to describe the collapse sequence of the twin towers exactly as described by the official story, despite the intellectual dispute of the tower collapses since and the multiple reports from Policemen and Firemen and news reporters at the scene describing secondary explosions. Jerome Hauer also dismissed the reported explosions in the towers on TV on the day of 9/11.189

The Bush Administration even had its own grieving victim, TV personality and political pundit, Barbara Olson, who was on Flight 77. She had apparently phoned husband Ted Olson, United States Solicitor General, on maybe her cell phone or a seat back airfone, (that information changed daily after the crash), to give the story of box-cutter wielding hijackers.190

Many stories in the newspapers described calls from victims from cell phones including stories of people in the toilets or displaying caller-id phone numbers from cell phones, in other words, definitely not from airfones. However, slowly the official story claimed the calls were from airfones. Texas-based Verizon, who ran the airfone company, announced that all airfone calls on 9/11 were to be “free”, thus relieving them of the duty to demonstrate that any calls took place that day or distributing any confirming evidence one way or the other.

American Airlines stated their capacity for a Boeing 767-223ER was 165. AA Flight 11 had 76 passengers, 11 crew members, and the 5 hijackers. United Airlines flight 175, a Boeing 767–222 with the same capacity, had 51 passengers, 9 crew and 5 hijackers. American flight 77, a Boeing 757 with capacity of 188, carried 53 passengers, 6 crew, and 5 hijackers. United flight 93, another Boeing 757, carried 33 passengers, 7 crew and the 4 hijackers.

The load factors for these aircraft were pretty low compared to the industry average for the period: 49 % for AA flight 11, 33 % for UAL flight 175, 32 % for AA 77, and 20 % for UAL 93. But if you remove the hijackers from the total, the load factors were lower still 46 % for AA flight 11, 30 % for UAL flight 175, 29 % for AA flight 77, and just 18 % for UAL flight 93. The low load factor for UA Flight 93 may be more understandable when it was revealed in 2004 that UA flight 93 was not a regular, scheduled flight, but had been newly inserted into the system. While there had been a few flights of UA93 for a few days previously, 9/11 was the first-ever Tuesday flight for the by United Airlines Newark to San Francisco route.

Truly the most baffling aspect of 9/11 is the collapse of WTC7.

On the late night BBC 24 hour news channel, the BBC were broadcasting a live report from New York. It was 5.15pm local time, New York, and 11.15pm in London. The BBC’s Jane Standley was reporting the destruction of the Solomon Bothers Building, WTC7. “New York is still completely unable to take on what has happened to them today…” she said. However, what she probably did not know was immediately behind her, in clear view in the distance, the WTC7 was still standing. Then two minutes before the tower actually collapsed, the live TV picture went black. The BBC news anchor, Phil Hayton, in London was in mid-sentence, “Everyone here are just flabbergasted. It almost seems just too far-fetched. I was wondering what it felt for you in New York. Ah… We seem to having some technical difficulties there.”191

“Far-fetched”, indeed. But many other people assumed that WTC7 would come down.

“Keep your eyes on this,” said a building worker to a camera crew, “It’s coming down shortly.”

Others claim that they were kept away from the building and heard a countdown over the radio, “Three… Two… One.”192

And then WTC7 collapsed straight down, symmetrically, in 7 seconds.

Other news channels also reported the collapse of the building, most implying that it had previously collapsed at the same time as the one the twin towers. Unlike the BBC where news coverage was cut just before collapse event, Fox News reported WTC7’s destruction immediately as the live picture of the WTC7 collapse occurred. The newscasters appeared shocked and embarrassed by the live collapsed and invented a reason for the collapse^193, which has since proven to be false according to FEMA and NIST reports.

The CBS TV anchor stated, “The third time today, a skyscraper collapses. Extraordinary. It reminds me of those old hotels knocked down in Las Vegas…”

* * * *

The President had flown in Air Force to Offutt Air Force Base, in Nebraska, where coincidently William Buffet, one the world’s richest men, had invited the WTC CEOs for a “charity” golf tournament.194

Air Force One took off without fighter escort^195. Maybe because after the “Angel is Next” warning the POTUS was not sure who to trust.196

At Offutt AFB, the President was advised that the attacked “smelled like Al Qaeda”197^198. Which was fortunate, since the order to invade Afghanistan was signed the previous day.199^200

Later that night, the President’s brother and Florida State Governor, Jeb Bush, escorted by Police and Specials Forces, raided the Florida flight school where the Rainbow Actors had been receiving flight training. They took away cabinets holding the flight school records in the back of a Hercules C-130 that had landed on the flight school runway. Fortunately, again, Jeb had changed the rules and regulations associated with such property seizure, just a few days before.201

* * * *

Planner had driven all night and arrived at Katherine’s door in the early morning. She opened the door, held her face and bent over. When Planner came forward she rose up and started beating him on the chest. Planner held his face away and took the punishment. When Katherine started to slacken off in tears, Planner reached out to comfort her. They sank to the ground together in each others arms.

* * * *

On a computer screen, a graphic designer edited a picture of the WTC Towers and removed 47 of the interior columns, and replaces it with a single thin pole.202 This was part of a disinformation campaign to disseminate the view that the Twin Towers were poorly designed and frail. The documentary “How the Towers Fell” was compelling but failed to mention WTC7, molten steel or much about the tower’s inner core.203

* * * *

The day after 9/11, the EPA, by orders from the White House, announced that the air at Ground Zero was safe to breathe. By 2006, 70 % of the 40,000 ground zero workers had developed respiratory problems, and hundreds of them have developed cancer.

Molten metal was found under the North Tower, South Tower and WTC7. The Ground Zero pile was dangerously hot for over 3 months despite constant application of water.

FEMA and NIST conducted investigations into the tower “collapses” but failed to follow any forensic method.204 Indeed, the majority of the steel was shipped off to China for scrap with indecent haste. The ground zero dust was not investigated by FEMA or NIST. Other organisations and researchers believe the Ground Zero dust holds critical evidence on the towers’ destruction.205

Some of the crucial evidence can be easily seen in photographs of the ground zero clean up. The outer columns standing for up to ten stories while nothing remaining of the inner, stronger, columns; nothing except for a few stubs of diagonally cut columns, the tell-tale sign of controlled demolition.206

* * * *

The news channels carried the official story night and day. On September 16th, President Bush declared the attack was from Osama Bin Laden and started a “crusade” to “rid the world of evil-doers”.

The Afghanistan Taliban discussed how to hand over Bin Laden, but the United States refused to negotiate and launched, their pre-planned invasion^207, Operation Enduring Freedom, on October 7th.

The USA launched the “war on terror,” but after many months, no hard evidence was provided regarding the link between Osama Bin Laden’s Al Qaeda and the 9/11 attacks. Indeed the FBI after the PENTTBOM investigation, apparently the most expensive FBI investigation in their history, failed to find any link between Osama Bin Laden^208 and 9/11.

A week after Colin Powell stated there would be evidence of Osama Bin Laden’s complicity in 9/11, a videotape of him turned up in the media. Apparently found by the military in a raid in Kabul. How this videotape was found, and recognised is unknown. The tape shows a man claiming to be Osama although facial differences, body weight differences and changing from left-handed to right handed, the man seemed to many as being an imposter. Through apparent mistranslation, this new Osama seemed to take responsibility for the 9/11 attack, reversing previous (authenticated) announcements. 209

Somewhere, some voices were being heard that questioned the official narrative. So much so that the President made a forceful speech: “Let us never tolerate outrageous conspiracy theories concerning the attacks of September the 11th; malicious lies that attempt to shift the blame away from the terrorists, themselves, away from the guilty.”

* * * *

On a TV documentary on Put Options, the commentator states, “The amount of put option on united airlines stock was 90 times more than on an average day. And other companies were affected too…” The “Put-Options” against airline stocks (and businesses within the WTC) are millions-to-1 against it being by chance according to independent reports. SEC investigated the put-options and reported that since no-one making these bets were connected to Al Qaeda, the strange pattern of put-options was nothing to be concerned about.210^211

* * * *

The 9/11 Family Steering Group pushed to set up the 9/11 Commission. Most of their questions gave to the Commission were never answered. One of the Jersey Girls stated, “Meeting after meeting, we were stone walled.” Another Donna Marsh stated, “We are not crazy. We have questions. We demand answers.”212 When Bush insider, Philip Zelikow was put in charge of the 9/11 Commission report, the Jersey Girls complained bitterly. They had successfully deposed Henry Kissinger as potential auteur (due to his links with the Bin Laden family and the Carlyle Group^213), but failed with Zelikow.

After 411 days the 9/11 Commission started examining the attack with a budget of $3million. Compared with other investigations:

Clinton’s Indiscretion: $40 million

Columbia Disaster: $50 million

Challenger Disaster: $75 million

The 9/11 Commission would state that the funding of terrorists was not an important matter. Clearly the mantra of the Watergate investigation to “follow the money” was not being applied. When information that Zelikow was in constant communication with the white house during the preparation of the report, the Jersey Girls called for the 9/11 Commission to be restarted using the facts and not the official story as a starting point. The 9/11 Commission Report was “set up to fail”214 according to its leading members. While others charge that the official story was pre-written before the Commission started its work and all evidence that conflicted with the official narrative was removed from the report.215

Several years later, Philip Zelikow expressed amazement, perhaps trying to distant himself from his own Frankenstein creation, when he heard corroborating HUMINT information for the official story was extracted from victims subjected to extraordinary rendition and then tortured^216. These interrogations were all audio taped by the CIA but then the CIA illegally destroyed the tapes.217

The National Transport Safety Board (NTSB) have records for all air crashes in US jurisdiction on their website. All, except for four air crashes, those that supposedly occurred on 9/11. Air crash data for flight 77 was released several years later but its provenance remains uncertain. There was no reference serial numbers for the black box hardware and the date of creation of the data file from the black box is before the date that the device was found in the wreckage.218 In fact there is an astonishing number of discrepancies with the status of the flights and the aircraft involved on 9/11 which have been picked up by independent investigators^219 such as the flights for AA11 and AA77 were not recorded as flying that day while UA175 and UA175 were reported as flying but the aircraft allocated to the flights were apparently still in service for several years after 9/11.

FBI Whistleblower, Sibel Edmonds, gave sworn testimony that Osama Bin Laden was in receipt of CIA funds and health care up until September 11th, 2001.220 She also gave testimony to the 9/11 Commission. It was not included in the final report.

No-one has ever been brought to justice for the illegal wars, rendition, torture and cover-ups, although named CIA agents can no longer step outside of the USA because of various judicial successes in the rest of the world.221

* * * *

Katherine took little persuasion to leave her life behind based on the argument that all her colleagues were dead and she would have joined them except for a minute’s head start. She realised that she knew too much and she could be easily erased. She and Beth reluctantly assumed the new identities that Planner provided and the three of them set off on 13th September 2001 across country, by car since all civilian airliners were grounded, to meet WITSEC liaison staff in Wyoming.

Robert explained, “I thought I was the Planner but I wasn’t. I was just another patsy. A patsy that set up the second or third level of distraction… should some of the first cover story layers get blown away.”

Katherine replied bitterly, “What’s the point? Why go the trouble to make you believe you were in charge of flying drones into the twin towers? When that was all fake?”

“I don’t know whether it was fake or not. One of the drones was shot down over Shanksville. Or so I was led to believe. In fact I have a whole crew that believe that; that believe we were flying drones. We would all swear on our mother’s grave that was what we were doing.”

“So did you or didn’t you?” said Katherine exasperated.

“Without air crash investigations on the aircraft parts that were recovered we will never know. It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. What I do know is that The Powers That Be will go to any length to protect their most precious secret.”

“And that is?”

“Their control of the media. That is their secret weapon. They can say whatever they want; do whenever they want. They can make us believe in Flying Pink Elephants given the right situation. They’ll want to protect that secret weapon at any costs,” he sighed.

“But they told you about their media control and computer graphic aircraft. Why would they do that?”

“They were looking for holes in their plans, I was the best person to find any problems. I told them what it was: Aircraft Crash investigations. And they sorted that out. While they may have told me their plans… I was expendable. I don’t think I was supposed to survive. More importantly, they had a whole crew of people on the E4-B that believed we were flying drones.”

“So did anyone know the full story?”

“Er, yes, there was probably one… But he is not alive any more.”

“And you’re sure of that?” quizzed Katherine sardonically.

“I’m pretty sure,” he mused, wondering about the levels of deception that really could be achieved.

“So your wife…” started Katherine and then wished she had not.

“Was she the target? Or were they after me?” he said, dreading the pain that the memories would bring.

“Yes.”

“On the balance of probabilities… I don’t know. These guys… the assassins, they don’t usually miss their targets. If they wanted me dead, I’d be dead.”

“They missed you on 9/11.”

“I slipped through in the fog of war. Just having a little extra information is sometimes all it takes.”

* * * *

Professor Steven Jones^222 published a paper comparing the collapse of the three NY skyscrapers to controlled demolition. Live on air, to support his theory, he wanted a clip of the WTC7 collapse played on TV: the freefall collapse of the skyscraper, arguably the biggest smoking gun of the 9/11 PysOp. The TV host stone-walled and refused to play the clip. Jones was made to look stupid on TV. He lost his job soon afterwards.

Ten years after 9/11, the majority of Americans have not even heard of WTC7.

* * * *

Danny Jowenko, Dutch Controlled Demolition expert, was filmed watching WTC7 fall for the first time. (The interview was conducted in Dutch with sub-titles).223

“They blew up the columns and the rest caved in… That is controlled demolition,” he said.

“Are you sure?” asked the interviewer.

“Absolutely, it’s been imploded. It’s a professional job, done by a team of experts… And you’re sure it was the 11th? That can’t be…”

“Yes. At 5.20pm,” said the interviewer.

“Really? They must have worked hard then,” he pondered.224

* * * *

In 2008, Barry Jennings, the man that was caught inside WTC7 by an internal explosion, died two days before NIST released their draft WTC7 report. Despite the small fires observed, NIST’s Dr Shyam Sunder claimed it fell due to intense heating of a critical joint. The thermal expansion, he said, walked a beam off a column, which then caused a complete and progressive collapse^225. They did not investigate the possibility of controlled demolition. They did not investigate many things: not the free fall, the physical items found at Ground Zero, any analysis for explosives. NIST just did computer modelling and then refused to release their modelling data; stating as their reasons for not doing so, as being against “Public Safety”.226 NIST acknowledged but failed to explain how WTC7 fell at free fall (that is, zero resistance of the underlying structure for the equivalent of 120 feet) for 2.25 seconds of its 7 second fall. Freefall cannot be explained by NIST’s fire induced gravitational collapse theory.

* * * *

In 2008, Explosive Nanomaterial was found in Ground Zero dust by a group of independent scientists. Their research was peer-reviewed and published in the Bentham Science journal.227 Danish Associate-Professor, Neils Harrit, explained to a TV interviewer about his discovery of nanothermite in the Ground Zero dust. “What we found is not just a smoking gun. But a Loaded Gun. The material is still reactive. It is a highly sophisticated explosive material that could not be manufactured in a cave in Afghanistan.”

“Are you sure?” said the interviewer uncertainly.

Harrit sighed, “I’ll make it easy for you. There were two aircraft impacts but THREE skyscrapers that fell. This can not happen without additional force.”228

* * * *

In 2009, Nanomaterial (Carbon Nanotubes) was also found to be causing lung cancer in 9/11 First Responders.229

* * * *

Richard Gage AIA, who founded Architects and Engineers for 9/11 Truth, stood across river from WTC at night on the tenth anniversary of 9/11. There was light from THREE beams extending into the sky, he’d arranged for the third beam to signify WTC7. “Skyscrapers do not fall at freefall due to fire. This is easily proved with physics and experimentation,” he said.

Ten years after 9/11, there are more than 1800 named, professional architects and engineers calling for a new investigation into the collapse of the twin towers.230

* * * *

Enron was valued at $11billion when its stock price was $90 a share in August 2001. The stock was valueless by the end of the year. The CEO and CFO were both convicted, and sent to jail, for fraud. On January 25th, 2002, Former Enron executive Clifford Baxter was found dead in a car with a gun shot in an apparent suicide. The link between Enron and the Bush Administration has not been covered by the mainstream media.231

Chapter Eighteen: Aftermath

9/11 has been used for the justification of two “wars of aggression” that has killed around a million people and cost trillions of dollars for no apparent improvement in western security. Even if the official story was 100 % correct, there was still no legal case to go to war in Afghanistan^232. 9/11 set the climate for the War in Iraq where again that war’s legality continues to be debated.233

The USA has also introduced a range of draconian measures since 9/11 which appears to be taken from a mix of George Orwell’s state of fear within “1984” and Aldous Huxley’s hedonistic and elitist “Brave New World”. These measures include: enhanced interrogation (torture), creation of false confessions, extraordinary rendition (kidnapping), assassination, armed drones (remote control terror), redefining the nature of war (to treat any foreign person as a Prisoner of War), communication interception on all US citizens without warrant, suspension of legal rights (no access to lawyers or courts), inducements and entrapment of citizens in supposed terror plots, financing of illegal and criminal organisations. In fact, the USA can do just about whatever they want to who ever they want, based on political whim. The rule of law has basically been suspended for anyone who is deemed a “terrorist”, the definition of which is so vague it could be applied to anyone that voices a contrary view to the US government… or a “conspiracy theory”. At the moment, society is still reasonably tolerant but the laws are in place to change that situation over a weekend.

* * * *

There was plenty of evidence that BE2’s Carrot (and Stick) operations continued after 9/11. The media remained quiet about 9/11. Anyone that voices an opinion was silenced or marginalised, sometimes both. Some of the Stage C operations, however, could be easily tracked by the number of new fatalities; Operation Eagle’s Stage C had become particularly messy.

The first letter supposedly containing Anthrax was sent to a journalist, Judith Miller, on October 12th, 2001. The substance in the letter was harmless. Five other people died from Anthrax spore inhalation and 17 other people were sicken by contact with Anthrax. The spores were traced back to Fort Detrick and the government paid compensation to the victims in 2011^234^235. Estimates of the number of world class microbiologists that have died in mysterious circumstances since 2001 vary from 40 to 120. This total includes 2 US military microbiologists that were separately accused by the FBI of the anthrax attacks in 2001. Neither claim has been substantiated.236

Perhaps the reason for the high death rate could be explained by the man that led the investigation into the Anthrax attacks: Jerome Hauer of Kroll Associates; the guy that identified the body of Bin Laden expert, John O’Neil, at the WTC.

* * * *

Planner explained to Katherine, “Every war starts with an event. It could be, say, an assassination or a dispute over a border or an attack.”

“Right,” she said tensely, glaring at him. She was sitting on the floor in a mountain hut. They were in transition to their new WPP lives. Her daughter was in bed in the next room.

“I’d say most of these events are staged,” said Planner.

“Staged?” Katherine continued with gritted teeth.

“It’s a standard practise. Been going on since Sun Tzu. It’s called a false flag attack from when a ship would switch flags and raid a friendly or neutral harbor and let the opposition take the blame. Think of Hitler’s Reichstag fire, the Maine, Suez, Manchurian Incident…” Planner stated.

“We wouldn’t do that. It’s not our way,” Katherine replied through tight lips.

“The Maine?”

“That’s a hundred years ago,” she retorted.

“Gulf of Tokin?” Planner suggested.

“40 years ago,” she said screwing up her mouth to one side.

“Iran-Contra?”

“That wasn’t a war,” she said flatly.

“No, that was more subtle, we got Saddam to fight the Iranians instead,” sighed Planner. “Why do you think that the US has the world’s largest defense budget, not 50 % larger, not twice the size, but four times the size of China’s? China has Russia, Japan, Korea, India and the whole of south-east asia as neighbours, while the US has er… Canada and Mexico.”

“And Cuba?” stated Katherine tartly.

“Ok, And Cuba,” said Planner faking a smile.

“It doesn’t explain why you were in it. Up to your neck. You were frigging well attempting to kill me!” said Katherine with venom.

“You’re right. You’re right. It doesn’t. I tell you that when you’re in the middle of these things, you feel like you just doing your crappy, patriotic duty. I was working for the President. I met one or two of them. I did not plan to kill you or anyone. I didn’t even start thinking about what I was doing until really late on. If I hadn’t met you I may not have had any qualms about the job at all. You worry about collateral damage as if it is just a figure on a scorecard, but real people are not considered. The military do it all the time. The CIA does it all the time. Plans are invented and debated; no one really thinks of the consequences. It’s like playing a game.”

“A game?” raged Katherine. “Yes, you didn’t take any of it too seriously. Your story was crap: a giant conspiracy theory based on supposition and coincidence. Can you really believe that in America, the most sophisticated technologically advanced nation in the world, was taken by surprise and brought to its knees, by 19 light weight Muslims armed with box cutters and the will of Allah? Managing to easily outfox the planet’s most sophisticated intelligence agencies, they decided that the best way to achieve their aims, which they didn’t bother to tell anyone about… or give a clue about what they hoped to achieve, was an impossible attack that, oh, and while we’re at it, also involved collective suicide?”

Planner looked uncomfortable.

“I guess they were motivated by their leader, Mohammed Atta; who drank alcohol, snorted cocaine, gambled, frequented strip bars… with a pink-haired, stripper, girlfriend and was cruel to her kittens. These are well-known characteristics for a leader for a religion-based kamikaze mission!” Katherine sneered sarcastically. “But guess what? Through the joys of computer gaming, they were able hit their two targets at the World Trade Center, flying beyond the capabilities of their aircraft and in the process, destroying their indestructible black boxes and flight data recorders? But not of course, their passports which emerged from the rubble!”

Katherine was not finished. She held up a finger to stop Planner interrupting. “Little did these hijackers suspect that their air crashes were nothing but a prelude to the real shock and awe: the world’s tallest buildings, built to be hurricane proof, proven to be bomb proof, crumpled to the ground in ten seconds, an hour or so after impact, with a TV-audience-attention-seeking fifteen minute interval between them. And then, later, another skyscraper decided to crash down at freefall, in sympathy, I suspect… half a day later.”

“Now that was not their plan…” protested Planner meekly.

“But no, no, no. Wait, there’s more; A third plane then manages to fly for 45 minutes across US airspace from Cleveland to Washington, before hitting the most secure, CCTV-covered building on earth completely unchallenged by the US Air Force. And completely unrecorded by photo or video, it crashes into where? Only the newly refurbished, and largely empty part of the pentagon, devoid of important people… other than the accountants investigating illegal securities that were due the next day and the DoD’s missing $2.3 trillion that Rumsfeld announced the day before! This is the most ridiculous, stupid conspiracy theory of all time.”

Planner said, “You’re right again. It is ridiculous.”

“You say you were the planner?” said Katherine curtly.

“Yes, but in truth, most of the big ideas had already been put in place: the story, such as it was; the organisation; contingency plans running along side. Wheels within wheels.”

“So who had the original idea? Someone must have been behind that? A political guy? Wolfowitz? Zelikow?”

“Wolfowitz? Quite possibly^237. Zelikow, no, he was too junior at the time. Actually all the dual-national US-Israeli types including Wolfowitz, Zelikow, Chertoff, Doc Zakhiem; they may all have agenda to work towards the benefit of their Zionist ideals. I don’t know. I thought it was for Oil. The problem of peak Oil… It could have been for Israel too.”

“Or Rove?”

“Sure. Maybe him. He’s credited by Bush as being the Architect. There’s evidence that Rove gets his hands dirty too;238 He’s not just a backroom weasel, rigging elections.”

“What about Cheney, Rumsfeld? They run the COG, right?”

“Cheney and Rumsfeld are JFDI guys. They are in for the money, I think. It could have been them. The big idea had been brewing for years and they have been around for a long time. But the puppet master keeps away, even from the puppeteers, let alone the puppets and patsies.”

“But you were the Planner. Weren’t you? And if not, then what, then?”

“I was really just a field officer, commanding soldiers on the battlefield. I was fed an imposing title to make me feel more important than I actually was. Just another puppet being played.”

“So what’s next?” said Katherine.

“We live our lives,” said Planner.

“What for?” said Katherine with a shrug, exhausted from her diatribe. “The country’s changed. The first action of a dictator is to change the laws. You helped them changed the law. The constitution is dead. We’ve lost our freedom. We’ve lost our hope. What’s the point?”

“We get them to change the laws back,” said Planner grimly.

“How?” she said.

“I’ll write a book.”

Katherine looked at him through narrowed eyes, unconvinced.

* * * *

For the enlightened 80 % that have reviewed the alternative media, they know the official story is fiction. The real villains are more dastardly than any TV bad guy and good people follow them because they are the ones in Authority.239 That’s how they have been conditioned, from education, from religion, from TV and the government-controlled mass media, by peer pressure. We are all expected to follow the voice of Authority. Even when it conflicts with Physics: Newton’s Laws of Motion and Momentum. People could do the calculations themselves. But they don’t. Planner found that perhaps Psychology is the stronger science.

* * * *

Outside a mountain cabin, somewhere in the Rockies with a beautiful view of a tree-lined valley, Katherine was beating a rug over a line. Inside, Planner finished off a manuscript called “The Planner” on his Apple Macbook. He knew it was a simplification of the real story. A simplification of even what he knew. But he felt it told the story. He typed “The End”, even though he knew it was not.

– -------------------------------------------------.

1 The anonymous stars in the CIA’s Book of Honor memorialize covert operatives lost in the field. http://www2.fiu.edu/~fcf/ray.washingtonpost.cia91897.html

2 PsyOp is short for Psychological Operations. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychological_warfare

3 WITSEC and other terms are discussed here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Federal_Witness_Protection_Program

4 CIA infiltration of the media is briefly described here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Mockingbird

5 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ug0IL7k3elQ “Continuity of Government” described in Iran-Contra Hearings.

6 Operation Northwoods was rejected by JFK in 1962. The plan was made public in 1997. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Northwoods

7 “Fighter jets are scrambled to babysit suspect aircraft or ‘unknowns’ three or four times a day. Before Sept. 11, that happened twice a week. Last year, there were 425 unknowns; pilots who didn’t file or diverted from flight plans or used the wrong frequency. Jets were scrambled 129 times.” Linda Slobodian, The Calgary Herald, October 13, 2001

8 http://www.civilwaracademy.com/lewis-powell.html Lewis Powell was part of the conspiracy to cut off the head of the United States government by assassinating its key leaders.

9 http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a630radaroffline “September 11, 2001: Radar Located in Northeast US Offline for Repair Work”

10 There were over 40 military drills and exercises occurring on 9/11. Of these, there were five large-scale military exercises. Flight controllers, commanders and pilots were unable to distinguish real world events from exercise scenarios. http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/9-11_exercises.html

11 Of the 2,500 interceptor aircraft available to the USAF, there were only 14 in service to protect the whole of North East USA. Only 4 aircraft were scrabbled during the hijacking period of 102 minutes.

12 Background to the Ptech affair: http://www.corbettreport.com/episode-045-ptech-and-the-911-software/ and Bush Administration’s Michael Chertoff sabotage of the investigation into Ptech. http://rigorousintuition.blogspot.co.uk/2005/01/michael-chertoff-and-sabotage-of-ptech.html

13 Simulated track appearing on radar during 9/11 http://shoestring911.blogspot.co.uk/2010/08/lets-get-rid-of-this-goddamn-sim-how.html

14 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Multilevel_security Describes the concept of computers sharing data in only one direction due to security classification.

15 http://www.noradsanta.org/

16 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Differential_GPS describes how GPS is degraded for civilian use.

17 (National Security Agency) does electronic monitoring and broadcast intelligence, home and abroad http://www.nsa.gov/

18 The Defense Intelligence Agency is concerned with Military Intelligence gathering. http://www.dia.mil/

19 The DIA’s Lt. Colonel Shaffe states that ABLE DANGER identified several of the hijackers a year before 9/11. The project was closed down in 2001 and all data used in the project was deleted in 2005. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Able_Danger

20 http://www.thenation.com/blog/155425/could-wikileaks-have-prevented-911-former-fbi-agent-says-yes According to wikileaks, an FBI supervisor sent a warning to officials in Washington, pleading he was “trying to keep someone from taking a plane and crashing into the World Trade Center.”

21 http://nymag.com/nymetro/news/sept11/features/5513/ John O’Neill, until August 2001, was the FBI’s top expert on Al Qaeda and Osama bin Laden.

22 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_P._O%27Neill

23 John O Neil investigation into the USS Cole incident caused problems within the FBI hierarchy and O Neil resigned. http://ezinearticles.com/?Larry-Silverstein-and-the-John-Patrick-ONeil-Connection amp;id=4140263

24 The hijackers are reported to have planned 9/11 from a motel across the road from CIA headquarters. http://www.amazon.com/The-Shadow-Factory-Eavesdropping-America/dp/0307279391

25 Hani Hanjour was refused Cessna flight instruction a few miles down the road from CIA headquarters. http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/hanjour.html

26 “The Terror Factory: Inside the FBI’s Manufactured War on Terrorism” book by Trevor Aaronson.

27 “Hijack ‘suspects’ alive and well” http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/1559151.stm

28 http://johndoeii.blog.com/2011/04/02/22-questions-concerning-the-alleged-hijackers/

29 http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a091001crisisunit FBI Crisis Response Unit Goes to California for Training.

30 http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2001/11/05/archive/main316911.shtml “Report: CIA Lost Office In WTC”

31 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California_electricity_crisis The California electricity crisis of 2000 and 2001, was caused by market manipulations, illegal shutdowns by Texas energy consortiums, and capped retail electricity prices.

32 http://911research.com/planes/evidence/passengers.html While Tuesday mornings are not a popular flight time. The passenger numbers on the 9/11 flights were below industry average especially when subtracting the number of hijackers from the totals.

33 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIdC95dtIsE Daniel Hopsicker’s interview with Atta’s girl friend, Amanda Keller. It portrays Atta as a drinking, drug-taking, party animal, strongly contradicting the official story of Atta having been a devout Muslim. Summary here: http://www.blackopradio.com/top%20ten.html

34 http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/hanjour.html Hanjour was the only person listed with flight training on Flight-77.

35 DoD Finances had been a long-standing problem. Programs to fix the problem started rapidly after 9/11. http://www.defenseindustrydaily.com/Calls-Grow-for-Pentagon-Audit-05551/

36 “1999…over $400 million was unmatched and that at least $180 million could not be reconciled.” http://www.truth-out.org/news/item/3614:department-of-defenses-unending-nightmare-pass-an-audit-by-2017

37 The office “Resource Services Washington” lost 34 of its 65 employees in the attack. http://www.hqda.army.mil/rsw/

38 “Ronald Vauk, the watch commander in the Navy Command Center, (was on) the phone trying to get more fighters scrambled at the time the Pentagon is hit, … to protect Washington.” http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a937morefighters#a937morefighters

39 http://www.hybrideb.com/documents/papers/pentagon_performance.pdf

“The Pentagon Project… began in 1999, and by September 11, 2001, one-fifth of the renovation was essentially complete. Structurally the renovation was not major; the most significant changes were the addition of new elevators, stairs, escalators, and mechanical equipment rooms. Additionally, the exterior walls and windows were upgraded to provide a measure of resistance to extreme lateral pressures…”

40 http://www.fas.org/sgp/crs/RL31542.pdf The Navy lost 70 % of its Pentagon

offices, including a portion of the Navy’s budget office, the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations, and its telecommunications operation center. The U.S. Army’s Information Management Support Center was also destroyed and apparently was unable to access its backup tapes. See Barbara Honegger’s presentation “Behind the Smoke Curtain” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-a4B4aNStQ

41 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Chertoff “co-author of the USA Patriot Act”

42 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Ashcroft “key administration supporter of passage of the USA Patriot Act.”

43 In the section on “Rebuilding America’s Defenses”, it says: “… the process of transformation [to rebuild US Defences], even if it brings revolutionary change, is likely to be a long one, absent some catastrophic and catalyzing event-like a new Pearl Harbor.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_for_the_New_American_Century#.22New_Pearl_Harbor.22

44 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shock_and_awe A stated US policy since 1996, the concept of “Shock and Awe” was first determined in 500BC by Sun Tzu.

45 http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/frameup.html “The 9/11 Anthrax Frameup.”

46 A number of White House officials begin taking Cipro from the evening of September 11, 2001 http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a091201ciproreporter#a091201ciproreporter

47 http://medbib.com/Manhattan_%28cocktail%29 A September Manhattan is a regular Manhattan blended with the ice from the shaker.

48 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utilitarianism

49 The twin towers were built with around 400 tons of asbestos (although it was slowly being removed). The eventual cost of removal could have been as much $500million.

50 Data compiled by the FAA between 1991 and 2000 showed that Boston’s Logan Airport had one of the worst records for security among major US airports. http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a91logansecurity#a91logansecurity

51 American Airlines employees who were dealing with phone calls from the first plane to be hijacked on 9/11 were told by their superiors to keep quiet about what they had learned about the unfolding crisis. http://shoestring911.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/dont-mention-this-to-anyone-why-did.html

52 The Hijackers left a clear trail of evidence http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a091101evidencetrail#a091101evidencetrail

53 http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/1664161.stm “The letter has been fabricated in an attempt to find evidence against Ziad Jarrah,” said his uncle, Jamal Jarrah.

54 “Virginia Chief Medical Examiner in ‘Tug of War’ Over Who Should do Autopsies of Pentagon Victims” http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a091201tugofwar#a091201tugofwar

55 Mohamed Atta and Ziad Jarrah were filmed together recording their martyrdom wills in Afghanistan but their words are unknown. http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a011800attajarrah#a011800attajarrah

56 Flight Data Recorders were only recovered from the Pentagon and Shanksville crashes. No Flight Data Recorders were found at the WTC. However, a hijacker passport was handed in by an unnamed member of the public directly to the NY Police Chief (who has since been sent to prison on unrelated charges). Unbelievably, a hijacker passport and an intact bandana were found at the Shanksville crash site.

57 Flight Data provided by the government is missing crucial information to link the data to a specific aircraft http://pilotsfor911truth.org/Dennis-Cimino-AA77-FDR.html

58 News report that “an air stewardess with her hands tied have been found in the World Trade Centre’s wreckage” http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-72312/Body-hijacker-cockpit-wreckage.html

59 The story was later just a “bound pair of hands was found atop one of the neighboring buildings.” Not even snopes can verify this story. http://www.snopes.com/rumors/hands.asp

60 No official attempts have been made to fully investigate the full-scale Global Guardian exercises and what effect they had on the military’s response on 9/11. http://shoestring911.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/on-911-us-military-was-preparing-for.html

61 USAMRMC supported the FBI on scientific aspects of the 2001 Anthrax Attacks. While assisting with the science, it also soon became the focus of the FBI’s investigation of possible perpetrators http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fort_Detrick

62 There is a dispute on the level of weaponization of the anthrax spores and whether Fort Detrick was the source of the powdered anthrax. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2001_anthrax_attacks#Dispute_over_silicon_content

63 The spores used in the 2001 Anthrax attacks were traced back to US Military Labs. The 70 year old record of anthrax spores at the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) at Iowa State University were destroyed October 10th, 2001, two days before the first attack. http://edition.cnn.com/2001/HEALTH/11/09/rec.iowa.anthrax/index.html

64 “Legends” are cover identities and cover stories in covert operations https://www.cia.gov/library/center-for-the-study-of-intelligence/kent-csi/vol5no3/html/v05i3a02p_0001.htm

65 FBI agent at JFK autopsy did not believe the magic bullet theory http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2132229/Last-surviving-FBI-agent-JFK-autopsy-did-believe-single-bullet-theory-dies.html

66 Bertrand Russell: “Education should aim at destroying free will so that after pupils are thus schooled they will be incapable throughout the rest of their lives of thinking or acting otherwise than as their school masters would have wished… The social psychologist of the future will have a number of classes of school children on whom they will try different methods of producing an unshakable conviction that snow is black.” http://www.whale.to/b/russell_h.html

67 Evidence of Insider Trading Before 9/11 http://noliesradio.org/archives/50865

68 Rumsfeld outlines his Orwellian-style “Office of Strategic Influence” http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/1830500.stm and its functions were taken up http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Office_of_Strategic_Influence

69 Edward Bernays was a pioneer of marketing and propaganda. He called his scientific technique of opinion-moulding the ‘engineering of consent’. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_Bernays

70 There were a significant number of movies and television dramas being produced at the time of the 9/11 attacks, which had storylines with some remarkable similarities to the events of September 11, 2001. http://shoestring911.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/hollywood-and-911-movies-and-tv-dramas.html

71 Was Flight 93 urged to “pull up” or “pulled down”? Was impact time 10.03 or 10.06? http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/flight_93_cvr.html

72 In 2001, cell phones could not connect calls in aircraft above 3000 feet.

73 Seymour Hersh outlines the organisation for the “executive assassination ring” http://www.alternet.org/story/131153/seymour_hersh%3A_%22executive_assassination_ring%22_answered_to_cheney,_had_no_congressional_oversight

74 Change Readiness Model uses the “The Transtheoretical Model of Change” http://changingminds.org/explanations/theories/transtheoretical_model.htm

75 Life coaches recommend ignoring people that highlight risks http://www.pathwayscoaching.co.uk/article/20/drains-and-radiators/

76 In medieval universities, there were 3 basic subjects: grammar, logic, and rhetoric http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trivium_%28education%29

77 The mysterious Ace Elevator Company won the largest elevator repair contract in history, to “modernize” the World Trade Center, prior to 9/11. http://aneta.org/911experiments_com/AceElevator/

78 Silverstein signed the lease on the WTC July 24, 2001 and ensured that the insurance covered acts of terror http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larry_Silverstein

79 Perdue University visualisation of the WTC1 crash. (The second crash has not been simulated.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cddIgb1nGJ8

80 There is no official model of the Twin Tower collapses. It has been done by others: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_J7ak_IZXk

81 According to FBI undercover agent, Emad A. Salem, in legal testimony, stated that the FBI not only knew about but built the bomb used in the 1993 WTC bombing.

82 Professor of philosophy, David Ray Griffin presents evidence and arguments that the George W. Bush administration was complicit in 9/11 attack in his book: “The New Pearl Harbor”. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_New_Pearl_Harbor

83 Barbara Honegger’s presentation titled “Behind the Smoke Curtain” describes the importance of Pearl Harbor http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fvJ8nFa5Qk amp;

84 Air crash database: http://planecrashinfo.com/

85 A description of nanothermite can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metastable_intermolecular_composite

86 A team of scientists have found nanothermite in the WTC dust and published the results as a scientific paper. “Active Thermitic Material Discovered in Dust from the 9/11 World Trade Center Catastrophe” http://www.benthamscience.com/open/tocpj/articles/V002/7TOCPJ.htm?TOCPJ/2009/00000002/00000001/7TOCPJ.SGM

87 On 21 September 2001, two explosions occurred in the outskirts of Toulouse, France, destroying the AZF fertilizer factory and the secret SNPE rocket fuel factory. The explosion caused 31 deaths, 4,500 injuries and damage to 27,000 buildings. http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Explosion_de_l%27usine_AZF_de_Toulouse

88 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/COINTELPRO

89 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disinformation

90 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nastran

91 The North Tower survived a 1,336 lb bomb placed in the underground car park. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1993_World_Trade_Center_bombing

92 New York is affected by earthquakes and all skyscrapers are designed to withstand a 6.9 Richter scale earthquake with an epicentre 5 miles from City Hall. New York is also hit by Hurricanes. (for example Hurricane Sandy in October 2012) See New York 1968 Building Code “RS 9–6”

93 Wireless detonators were used in the Madrid Train Bombings of 2004 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2004_Madrid_train_bombings

94 Sol-gel is a technique for combining nanomaterials http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sol-gel

95 In the summer of 2001, Mohammad Atta was treated for a skin rash consistent with an Anthrax infection. http://www.nytimes.com/2002/03/23/us/nation-challenged-bioterrorism-report-linking-anthrax-hijackers-investigated.html

96 Former SAS officer and world famous explorer, Sir Ranulph Fiennes has described that ‘Boston brakes’ is a commonly employed assassination technique used by covert operatives.

97 Teachers complained that President George W. Bush’s promotion of “No Child Left Behind” did not improve education but did help brother’s Neil’s software company take a slice of the $1.9 billion-a-year market. Florida Governor, brother Jeb, also made school standards a centerpiece policy. http://www.businessweek.com/stories/2006-10-15/no-bush-left-behind

98 Warren Buffet’s Charity Golf Match at Offat Airbase hosted many WTC CEOs and business leaders. http://911research.wtc7.net/sept11/warnings.html

99 Marvin Bush was a director Strategsec that had the contract to improve the security at the WTC, completing, according to his mother, Barbara Bush, on 11th September 2001. There is no evidence that Marvin Bush disabled the WTC sprinklers. However he was near the building on 9/11 and the WTC7 sprinklers were disabled. http://letsrollforums.com/wtc-7-fire-alarm-t21657.html

100 Michael Moore describes the Bush family links to Saudi Arabia and the Bin Laden family http://www.fahrenheit911.com/

101 CBS reports that Osama bin Laden was admitted to a military hospital in Rawalpindi, Pakistan, for kidney dialysis treatment on September 10th, 2001 http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a091001rawalpindi#a091001rawalpindi

102 “In every case where Olson reveals some particularly damning bit of information (about the Clintons), she is impeccable about tying it to easily corroborated additional public documentation”. http://www.amazon.com/Hell-Pay-Unfolding-Hillary-Clinton/dp/0895261979

103 Barbara Olson’s call(s) cannot be confirmed because cell phones do not work on airliners, the seatback phones did not work and no proof of a call has been presented. http://www.consensus911.org/point-pc-2/

104 WTC7: “A building within a building” http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/cutter.html

105 Silverstien’s ex-brother-in-law, Bernard Mendik, running the rival bid for the WTC lease, died 28th May 2001.

http://ezinearticles.com/?Larry-Silverstein-and-the-Bernard-Mendik-Vornado-Realty-Connection amp;id=4908967

106 Discussion of the CIA Heart Attack Gun: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BSEnurBApdM

107 The scenario described was the expected outcome of the 1993 WTC Bomb plot. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2vpcABWJiY

108 Detection of inactive bugs http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nonlinear_junction_detector

109 Once the California Zero Emission Mandate, designed to help protect children health from smog, was revoked in 2002, all the General Motors EV1 cars were recalled and crushed, despite strenuous protests from their leaseholders. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Who_Killed_the_Electric_Car?

110 Bazant’s “Pile driver” theory only refers to WTC 1 and 2 collapses (not WTC7) and cannot be replicated by experiment. http://911research.wtc7.net/disinfo/collapse/piledriver.html

111 Bazant’s theory though widely knocked and implausible, still has the backing of the official academic institutions http://911blogger.com/node/18196

112 Considering the assassinations of his father and uncle, it is more likely to suspect foul play in the death of JFK Jr than the mysterious air crash being an accident. http://whatreallyhappened.com/RANCHO/CRASH/JFK_JR/jj.php

113 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boeing_E-4

114 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boeing_VC-25

115 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Identification_friend_or_foe

116 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boeing_E-3_Sentry

117 The special Contingency of Government communication network is described here: http://shoestring911.blogspot.co.uk/2011/01/backup-communications-system-was.html

118 The scale of the WTC underground car park can be seen in this video about the Security Officer that anticipated the 9/11 attacks: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9jUEp_l7cE

119 Special Routing Arrangement Service (SRAS) is explained above.

120 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caller_ID_spoofing

121 ACARS is explained here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aircraft_Communications_Addressing_and_Reporting_System

122 Not far from the Emma E. Booker Elementary School where George W Bush would soon be entertained by “The Pet Goat” story, two Saudi families al-Hiijjii and Ghazzawi families fled their home in the gated Palmer Ranch community of Sarasota, Florida. They left clothes hanging in closets, food in the refrigerator, and three cars. The FBI investigation into the matter was not reported to Congress or 9/11 Commission Report. http://www.heraldtribune.com/article/20110908/ARTICLE/110909586

123 Dog patrols abruptly halted according to article on Sept 12th, 2001. http://web.archive.org/web/20050127000302/http:/www.nynewsday.com/news/local/manhattan/wtc/ny-nyaler122362178sep12,0,6794009.story

124 Power downs described by reliable witness http://globalresearch.ca/articles/THO404A.html

125 Counterintelligence is the protection of covert activities. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Counterintelligence

126 This article describes the mystery flight that unloads passengers at the NASA building at Cleveland airport http://911review.org/inn.globalfreepress/Cleveland_Airport_Mystery.html

127 In 2001, DoD could not account for $2.3 trillion dollars because of problems with interfacing different financial computer systems. By 2006, all except $800billion was accounted for. According to Wikipedia, the DoD expect to be able to their accounts certified by 2017. The implication being that auditors would not have signed off DoD accounts for over 17 years. http://www.defense.gov/speeches/speech.aspx?speechid=430

128 Logs destroyed http://www.nytimes.com/2004/05/06/national/06CND-TAPE.html and David Ray Griffin describes the changing story of the Military response here http://www.globalresearch.ca/the-9-11-commission-s-incredible-tales/1478

129 No-one is quite sure why Atta journeyed to Portland before 9/11. He nearly missed the connecting flight before supposedly catching Flight 11 (and losing his baggage). http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mohamed_Atta A plausible alternate theory identifies identity theft: http://www.aldeilis.net/english/index.php?option=com_content amp;view=article amp;id=3188:the-atta-mystery-double-agent-or-multiple-attas

130 A panel of experts assessed the best evidence for the hijackers at Dulles Airport and concluded that there was no evidence for hijackers arriving for Flight 77. http://www.consensus911.org/point-video-2/

131 The Independent Report of Logan Airport Security is described here: http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a91logansecurity#a91logansecurity

132 Two passengers turned up with tickets but asked to buy tickets at the checkin desk. They failed to provide the usual response to standard security questions. http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a620checkinproblems#a620checkinproblems

133 Cell phone cloning http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phone_cloning

134 General Henry Shelton, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, leaves for Europe at 7.15am transferring command to General Richard Myers. http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a715sheltonflies#a715sheltonflies

135 Two Middle Eastern looking first class passengers were reported to have left the aircraft, Flight 93, just before take off. This has never been explained. http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a800passengersleave#a800passengersleave

136 FEMA was running a terrorist seminar on Sept 11–14th September. http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a091001femaarrives amp;scale=0

137 Transactions of more than $100m were passed through computers at the WTC. http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,41004,00.html

138 Boston control center could see the aircraft through binoculars at point of hijacking. It was a clear day and the plane was 150,000 feet. http://www.eagletribune.com/latestnews/x803544162/Methuen-man-recounts-the-morning-of-9-11-from-the-Logan-FAA-control-tower

139 Atta’s “We have some planes” comment is from an “unknown” source. Full text is here http://www.nytimes.com/2001/10/16/national/16FLIGHT11-TEXT.html.

140 David Ray Griffin describes the implausibility of the cell phone calls. http://www.globalresearch.ca/phone-calls-from-the-9-11-airliners/16924

141 Official story airbrushes out the use of cell phones (only air phones aka “airfone”) http://www.dhs.gov/september11-chronology

142 The precise location from where the Emergency Location Transmission signal was being transmitted is unclear but reported by two pilots independently to air traffic control before Flight 11 impact. http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a844elt#a844elt

143 This link provides the clearest view of the hijack protocol to be followed in 2001. Notice the central role of CINC NORAD. http://www.rutgerslawreview.com/2011/2-protocols-for-responding-to-hijackings/

144 There were reports that there was a bomb at the WTC basement explosion before the explosion on at the top of the North Tower. http://www.infowars.com/articles/sept11/new_eyewitness_wtc_basement_level_explosions.htm

145 Paul Bremer was later to become Governor of Occupied Iraq http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Bremer

146 The Perdue University computer simulation of the crash shows a blast going through to the south side of the North Tower but not out of the east face seen in the sole video of the crash. There is no explanation why the simulation does not match the video.

147 Most elevators traversed less than a third of the height of the Twin Towers, a fire safety precaution, the main elevator transit points were called a “sky lobby”. The topmost sky lobby for either twin tower, was on the 78th floor. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sky_lobby

148 Elevators were a disaster within a disaster http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/news/sept11/2002-09-04-elevator-usat_x.htm

149 At least 200 people died inside World Trade Center elevators, making 9/11 the biggest elevator catastrophe in history.

150 In the 1993 World Trade Center bombing, people were rescued from the rooftop by helicopter. In 2001, rooftop fire doors remained locked. http://www.historyandtheheadlines.abc-clio.com/ContentPages/ContentPage.aspx?entryId=1657209 amp;currentSection=1653838 amp;productid=40

151 No-one escaped above the 91st floor on the North Tower.

152 The near miss with DELTA 2315 was apparently just 300 feet.

153 Description of false tracks on radar. http://shoestring911.blogspot.co.uk/2011/04/many-false-hijackings-of-911.html

154 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reaction_shot

155 One of the five Israelis, filming the attack went on TV to report that their purpose “was to document the event”. http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/fiveisraelis.html

156 Real time reaction by the President is provided in Michael Moore’s documentary “Fahrenheit 9/11” http://www.fahrenheit911.com/

157 Navy Officers at Pentagon Immediately Realize First Crash Is Terrorism, Suspect Pentagon Could Be Attacked http://www.historycommons.org/context.jsp?item=a848pentagonatarget#a848pentagonatarget

158 Military personnel responsible for defending U.S. airspace had false tracks displayed on their radar screens throughout the entire duration of the 9/11 attacks. http://shoestring911.blogspot.co.uk/2010/08/lets-get-rid-of-this-goddamn-sim-how.html

159 Nearly 8 % of those who died in New York died by falling out of the buildings. It is unclear the proportion of the jumpers who actually jumped, or slipped while climbing between floors or were ejected by explosive force.

160 Barry Jennings story retold in several interviews leads to the conclusion that the destruction of the towers on 9/11 was planned. 53 year old Barry Jennings died, two days before the release of the WTC7 NIST Final Report in 2008. No cause of death has been made public. Barry Jenning’s 9/11 experience in WTC7 and subsequent mysterious death can be found here: http://barryjenningsmystery.blogspot.co.uk/

161 In the middle of the 9/11 attack, CINC-NORAD did indeed make a 12 mile drive from Peterson Air Force Base to NORAD’s Cheyenne Mountain Operations Center. It took him just under an hour to complete the journey. http://digwithin.net/2013/01/12/eberhart/

162 The FEMA event in Montana is described here: http://www.nytimes.com/2001/09/12/us/a-day-of-terror-disaster-planning-attacks-halt-meeting.html

163 The attempted interview from an unknown Middle Eastern TV crew has parallels to a successful assassination in Afghanistan two days earlier. http://www.sptimes.com/2004/07/04/news_pf/Worldandnation/Of_fact__fiction__Bus.shtml

164 Description of the “phantom Flight 11” is given here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U.S._military_response_during_the_September_11_attacks

165 CBS report that the President was aware of “Angel is Next” warning and rumors of attacks on White House and Camp David. http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2002/09/11/60ii/main521718.shtml

166 Webster Tarpley speculates that a faction within the US government were threatening nuclear war against the Bush Administration http://tarpley.net/2011/09/08/suppressed-but-crucial-911-evidence/

167 The supposed code name for the JFK assassination according to E Howard Hunt was “The Big Event”. http://www.nowpublic.com/world/jesse-ventura-tru-tv-jfk-deathbed-confession-e-howard-hunt-2729478.html

168 The Pentagon is the world’s largest office by floor area. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Pentagon

169 Laura Bush recalls the details here: http://www.today.com/id/36943246/ns/today-books/t/laura-bush-recalls-panic/

170 The unbelievable skills of the 9/11 hijackers http://www.scholarsfor911truth.org/Sagadevan21Feb2006.html

171 The pilot episode of the Lone Gunman TV show had an airliner knock the antenna off the WTC in a near-miss drone attack. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lone_Gunmen

172 Many people speculate that several laws of physics were broken with Flight 77’s approach: g-force for the dive pull up, ground effect would stop it hitting the base of the Pentagon and the light poles would have burst the wing tanks (as seen in other aircraft accidents). Indeed, altitude data from Flight 77 ‘s FDR shows the supposed aircraft was 300 foot above the lampposts. http://www.globalresearch.ca/new-study-from-pilots-for-9-11truth-no-boeing-757-hit-the-pentagon/6133

173 April Gallop sued the Government for the lack of advanced warning and maintained her opinion that no aircraft hit the Pentagon due to lack of fuel at the impact point. Her court case was dismissed as frivolous. http://911blogger.com/news/2011-04-12/extraordinary-conflict-interest-bush-cousin-judge-911-case-against-bush-officials

174 Within 24 hours of the plane crashing into the Pentagon the FBI confiscated every known video of the attack. The only footage of the Pentagon attack came from CCTV cameras from a Pentagon Security checkpoint that showed an explosion on the side of the Pentagon.

175 A discussion on the difference between night vision and thermal imaging and their use by special forces is given here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rAvnMYqj2c0

176 A discussion of the lack of debris on the Pentagon lawn. http://911review.com/errors/pentagon/nodebris.html

177 Another discussion on the lack of verifiable evidence that a plane hit the Pentagon and advances a drone theory http://www.odeion.org/cruisemissile/

178 Transcripts of the fire fighters radio transmissions can be found here: http://911research.wtc7.net/mirrors/guardian2/wtc/firefighters.htm

179 Video of molten metal falling from South Tower: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPu9IqBfMIw

180 The value of the gold and silver within WTC vaults has been estimated at between $200-$650 million. http://911review.com/motive/gold.html

181 Evidence of additional and unspecified aircraft in the air during the attacks. http://911blogger.com/news/2010-07-20/additional-declassified-us-secret-service-records-describe-unidentified-aircraft-circling-washington-dc-911

182 The expression was coined by Adolf Hitler and described in his 1925 book “Mein Kampf”, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Lie

183 The hijacker Box Cutter story comes from Rumsfeld and Ashcroft http://www.edwardjayepstein.com/nether_fictoid9.htm

184 Todd Beamers call persisted after the Flight 93 crash and no crash noise was heard. http://shoestring911.blogspot.co.uk/2007/10/todd-beamers-odd-phone-call-and-silent.html

185 More Than 1000 Bodies Are Unaccounted http://911research.wtc7.net/wtc/evidence/bodies.html

186 There is still no legal evidence to support the US government’s claim that Osama Bin Laden orchestrated 9/11. Credible reports of Osama Bin Laden’s death were reported dead in December 2001. However, he officially was not dead until 2011 where a US Navy Seal task force apparently killed him and disposed of his body at sea. No DNA evidence or photos have ever been released.

187 NYPD Police Chief Kerik, formerly Mayor Guiliani’s chauffer, was later put in prison for matters unrelated to 9/11 http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/05/28/bernard-kerik-nypd-commissioner-leaves-prison_n_3346580.html

188 Larry Silverstein wanted O Neil ‘in the office no later than 11th September’ http://ezinearticles.com/?Larry-Silverstein-and-the-John-Patrick-ONeil-Connection amp;id=4140263

189 Jerome Hauer, on TV, acting as gatekeeper to the official story on 9/11 is in the latter half of this video. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxI6zIrKox4

190 Barbara Olsen calls are discussed here: http://www.globalresearch.ca/ted-olson-s-report-of-phone-calls-from-barbara-olson-on-9-11-three-official-denials/8514

191 News Report: WTC7 Fell Before It Happens! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltP2t9nq9fI

192 First responder, Kevin McPadden recalls the countdown here: http://www.infowars.com/articles/sept11/first_responders_heard_wtc_7_demo_countdown.htm

193 Fox News Report http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHFdcPv3XXI

194 CEO with HQ based in WTC arrived with others at Offutt Air Force Base for a charity event hosted by Warren Buffett. http://www.bizjournals.com/sanfrancisco/stories/2002/02/04/story3.html?page=all

195 No fighter escort for POTUS http://theaviationist.com/2011/09/09/af1/

196 Changing the official story regarding “Angel is Next” http://www.opednews.com/populum/diarypage.php?did=11537

197 Condoleezza Rice recalls that CIA Director George Tenent made the “smelled like Al Qaeda” comment. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Offutt_Air_Force_Base#President_Bush_Offutt_Conference_on_11_September

198 “Al Qaeda” is the name for the CIA database of their main contacts from the days when they supported the fight in Afghanistan against the Russians (according to British Foreign Secretary, Robin Cook MP). http://www.theguardian.com/uk/2005/jul/08/july7.development

199 Bush team ‘agreed plan to attack the Taliban the day before September 11’ http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2004/mar/24/september11.usa2

200 David Ray Griffin argues that attacking Afghanistan was illegal and amoral. http://www.globalresearch.ca/did-9-11-justify-the-war-in-afghanistan/19891

201 Governor Jeb Bush issued a publically available executive order to allow the National Guard to activate if there were circumstances resulting from “an act of terrorism” (Executive Order #01-261, Section 3) on 7th September 2001. http://executiveorders.blogspot.co.uk/2004/09/jeb-bush-executiveorders-pre-91101.html

202 TV documentaries and official reports do not describe how the twin towers central 47 core columns could have collapsed all the way to the ground. There are many misleading articles on the construction of the twin towers and all but a few ignore WTC7. For example: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/1540044.stm

203 “How the Towers Fell” fails to mention WTC7 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KPqxJpykW00

204 Fire fighter Eric Lawyer states that the investigations were insufficient https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uor8NhUr_90

205 RJ Lee’s WTC Dust report notes the presence of iron microspheres. This provides evidence of massive and widespread steel melting and the probability of cutting of steel by thermite. http://911research.wtc7.net/essays/thermite/cache/nyenvirolaw_WTCDustSignatureCompositionAndMorphology.pdf

206 Controlled demolition and diagonal cuts is explained here http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/wtc_charges.html

207 Niaz Naik, a former Pakistani Foreign Secretary, was told by senior American officials in mid-July that military action against Afghanistan would go ahead by the middle of October (BBC News, September 18, 2001).

208 The FBI still referred to him as Usama Bin Laden. In the media Usama had been renamed as “Osama” to remove the “USA” from the name.

209 The Osama Bin Laden Confession video surfaced in December 2001. http://whatreallyhappened.com/WRHARTICLES/osamatape.html

210 German Firm Probes Final World Trade Center Deals http://www.wanttoknow.info/011218reuters

211 Put Options described http://911research.wtc7.net/sept11/stockputs.html

212 A documentary of the Jersey Girls story is available. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/9/11:_Press_for_Truth

213 The Carlyle Group is a private equity company that is connected to both Bin Laden and Bush families as well as other politicians such as Henry Kissinger. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carlyle_Group

214 “Set up to fail” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/9/11_Commission

215 CIA insider describes the process of extracting the required information for the 9/11 Commission Report http://truthjihadradio.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/cia-whistleblower-glenn-carle-on-tj.html

216 Former British Ambassador to Uzbekistan was removed from post after he exposed the torture designed to create a link between Islamists and Al Qaeda. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Craig_Murray

217 CIA illegally destroyed interrogation tapes. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2005_CIA_interrogation_tapes_destruction

218 Black box anomalies http://911blogger.com/news/2008-10-27/ntsb-affirms-dubious-explanation-pentagon-black-box-data-file-time-stamp-discrepancy

219 AA11 and AA77 were never scheduled to fly of 9/11, while the United Airline aircraft were still in service for years after 9/11. http://911truth.wetpaint.com/page/An+Interview+with+Gerard+Holmgren

220 Siebel Edmonds states that Osama Bin Laden had links to CIA until 9/11 http://www.bradblog.com/?p=7332

221 Twenty three CIA agents convictions upheld in Italian Court. http://www.aclu.org/blog/national-security-human-rights/italian-court-upholds-rendition-conviction-cia-agents

222 Jone’s story is now a documentary http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1740766/

223 Danny Jowenko interview can be seen here. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=877gr6xtQIc

224 Danny Jowenko died when his car veered off the road and crashed into a tree. http://www.dailypaul.com/172140/danny-jowenko-is-dead-3-days-after-sabrosky-interview-implicates-cia-mossad-in-911

225 NIST’s WTC7 theory has been discredited by various researchers. Such as http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQI6gOw9y-c

226 As described by the Remember Building 7 campaign http://rememberbuilding7.org/freefall-collapse/

227 Peer reviewed paper of nanomaterial in Ground Zero dust http://www.benthamscience.com/open/tocpj/articles/V002/7TOCPJ.htm

228 Neil Harrit on Television http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjBe1-U06so

229 First responders with nanomaterials found in their lungs http://911blogger.com/news/2011-02-04/energetic-materials-potential-cause-911-first-responder-illnesses

230 Architects and Engineers for 9/11 Truth http://www.ae911truth.org/

231 Bush-Enron connection http://www.apfn.org/apfn/enron_bush.htm

232 http://www.globalresearch.ca/did-9-11-justify-the-war-in-afghanistan/19891

233 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legality_of_the_Iraq_War

234 Widow of Bob Stevens, the first Anthrax victim received $2.5million due to “Government Negligence” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/11/29/robert-stevens-anthrax-us-payment_n_1119323.html

235 This 2002 article speculates on a CIA link to the Anthrax attacks http://www.globalresearch.ca/articles/MOO208A.html

236 Army microbiologist Bruce Ivins, the FBI’s prime suspect in the 2001 anthrax attacks, died before his trial in an apparent suicide, and the case is now closed. John Dankosky questions whether scientific evidence against Ivins was conclusive enough to hold up in court. http://www.sciencefriday.com/segment/10/28/2011/scientific-case-still-open-on-2001-anthrax-attacks.html

237 Wolfowitz invented the pre-emptive war strategy known as the “Bush Doctrine”. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Wolfowitz

238 Karl Rove’s chief IT consultant, Mike Connell, who was facing subpoena in connection with 2004 Presidential election fraud in Ohio, conveniently died in a private plane crash in 2008 just before he was to testify. http://www.projectcensored.org/top-stories/articles/12-mysterious-death-of-mike-connell%E2%80%94karl-roves-election-thief/

239 “9/11 False Flag Conspiracy (Finally Solved)” is one of the better attempts to solve the mystery: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAAztWC5sT8

Content

Robert Smith
The Planner

Chapter One: Initiation

Chapter Two: Nicholas

Chapter Three: California

Chapter Four: GI Joe

Chapter Five: Eagle

Chapter Six: Rainbow Review

Chapter Seven: Carrot

Chapter Eight: Hollywood

Chapter Nine: Las Vegas

Chapter Ten: Snow White

Chapter Eleven: The Park

Chapter Twelve: Washington DC

Chapter Thirteen: Oklahoma

Chapter Fourteen: Shadow

Chapter Fifteen: Stage B

Chapter Sixteen: Pentagon

Chapter Seventeen: Ground Zero

Chapter Eighteen: Aftermath