“That’s right,” he said. “We captured a Dark One we encountered at the target site, surveilling my team in Cuzco. Without getting into all the details, the long and short of it is he confirmed this attack to be from the Dark Ones and, just as important, that this is a technology-based weapon. What we don’t know is who supplied the weapon and what platform it is being deployed from.”

“Or even how it works,” Intelligence Director Julia Nesbitt pointed out. “We need to answer those questions and we need to do it ASAP.”

“And we need to take immediate precautions at St. George’s and here on the Trinity campus until we understand what we’re dealing with,” the security chief added before anyone else could comment. “That means no kids outside, period. And it also means the suspension of outdoor gatherings, outdoor PT, and rethinking the way we commute and move around. I’m going to order the construction of temporary covered walkways between buildings and to the main parking lot. In addition, I intend to implement door-to-door pickup and drop-off protocols for all senior staff and platoon commanders. No more walking, running, or biking to work.”

The proclamation earned groans, grimaces, and nods as the reality of their situation sank in. Sidebar conversations once again erupted as people felt compelled to express their personal opinions on the efficacy and viability of the security chief’s plan.

“Quiet,” Ben barked. “This is not productive. Everyone in this room is competent and creative, and I encourage you to provide input and constructive criticism so we can optimize Chief Wenger’s plan. But Kip is right. The status quo will not suffice. To address this threat, we are going to have to make procedural changes. Many of these changes will be aggravating and cut into your personal liberty and productivity, but that’s the life we’ve chosen. Instead of being sand in the gears, we’re all going to help Chief Wenger, however he needs it.”

The ruckus settled down and Jed noticed most everyone in the room nodding. The meeting went another fifteen minutes before Ben dismissed them. Jed hadn’t even scooted back his chair from the table before Julia Nesbitt summoned him and David for a sidebar conversation with Ben and Mike Moore and another man he didn’t know.

“We’ve not officially met, but Ben and I dialogue regularly about you and your team,” the intelligence director said as she shook hands with Jed. “I’d also like you to meet Damien Gough. Damien is my CISA, or conventional intelligence and signals analyst, and handles the traditional collection streams as well as serving as our liaison with the Pentagon and the IC at large. He’s one of the brightest, most committed and hardworking people I’ve ever had the privilege to work with, and I’m confident you guys will get on swimmingly.”