General Tomlinson and Ambassador Butler wore sets of what looked like 80's-vintage headphones to protect their ears from the incredible noise. The roar generated by a multitude of highly-taxed small engines was unbearable without ear protection.
Several trailers had been pulled into the large space surrounding the men, their diesel powered cooling units working hard to bring the air inside of them to a chilling freeze. There were all different types to be seen; some white, some black, others nearly every other color imaginable.
The hot halogen lamps overhead lit one more brightly than the rest, however; its polished stainless steel bounced blinding rays back in all directions. The two of them surveyed the fleet, checking temperature displays as they passed to ensure proper cooling.
"This is your great plan?" Butler asked the General, his skepticism clear and pronounced.
"It is -- and it's going to work." Tomlinson returned with confidence. "We've already dispatched the first decoy; a real red herring that should attract plenty of attention."
"That was the convoy jeeps and the truck with tanks escorting it at either end?"
"Two M1A2 Abrams and four M60A1 Pattons, to be exact, escorting an armored tractor pulling a seventy-three foot trailer complete with a push truck helping out from behind. I've
assigned the balance of the Eighteenth Mechanized Infantry to the transport detail as well. It'll take our pals quite a while to analyze that arrangement, so we should get at least a day's grace while they figure out how the hell they're gonna stop it. By the time they realize the damn thing is empty, we'll have the real payload well on its way to The Cape."
Butler drew in a deep breath, shaking his head. "I think a full day might be a little optimistic, General." He said. "There's no reason to believe that they won't simply blast your little rubber ducky right off the landscape."
"The Council doesn't seem to think that our friends will be so quick to destroy Polyphemus. It represents quite an advance in technology, even for your people. They think it's more likely that they'll attempt to acquire it -- undamaged."
"What?" Butler exclaimed. "To what end?" He was more than a little put out by the fact that The Council of his own people seemed to trust Tomlinson more than they did him. In years past, their roles had been reversed -- Butler feeding the information to The General instead of the other way around. They had a lot of faith in this man... he had earned it, though, so it wasn't worth stressing about.
"I can't say, Ambassador, because I don't know. I'm not sure what they could hope to do with it, considering they'd essentially be stranded with it right here in our backyard. Maybe they just want to have a look at it before they make it go away, nobody knows for sure."
"Still, they'll figure out that the convoy is a decoy rather quickly, I imagine."
"Maybe, but just the first of many. We've got a total of fifty trucks here tonight that we're gonna load up and ship out at random intervals. Forty-nine will have empty blocks of ice, concrete and steel inside... one will have product of The Project."
"Are they all going different places?"
"No... The Cape is the obvious destination, sending trucks anywhere else would make them useless in our deception. They won't look twice at them."
"Maybe that's the key -- maybe we send the real load somewhere else just to throw them off for a while."
"It wouldn't do much good, they know it would eventually turn up on the launch pad. Besides that, there's always the chance that the damned thing might thaw out while we're jockeying it around the country. No one wants to consider what might become of us if that happened. Our only hope is to keep them guessing as to where the payload actually is."
"What makes you think they won't just snatch all of the trucks up and sort it out later?"
"We don't believe they have the means to do that... not within range of getting here in time, at least. They'll have to pick one or two targets and hope they chose the right one."
"I was told they had a full detachment not far off, possibly headed this way already."
"They're two weeks out, at best. By the time the reinforcements arrive, this whole ordeal will be over. We're hoping they'll decide there's no point in causing a further scene once they're here... but there are no guarantees. It could get real ugly real quick -- and we're just not prepared for that contingency as it stands right now." Tomlinson admitted, clearly disturbed at the thoughts racing through his mind.
"We'll stand by you, you know that." Butler promised. "We'll throw all the irons in the fire to protect you, if that's what needs to be done."
"A noble gesture, but you and I both know you're hardly in any condition to save us."
"Sadly, you're right. The war hasn't been going well lately... we're down to the wire. If what we're trying to do here doesn't come together, we're as good as dead... the whole lot of us. I don't know what went wrong; someone, somewhere made a catastrophic mistake sending our last hope here -- I just hope it doesn't become our epitaph."
Tomlinson nodded grimly in agreement. The stakes were high; the potential outcome dire.
"God help us if this doesn't work, Ambassador -- God help us all."