I enter the garage and see a row of identical vehicles. All are jet black, but I hear that some will receive different paint schemes prior to delivery. One has been assigned to me for official use. One of the engineers hands me a key with a built in electronic transmitter.

“If you lose that key anywhere on earth you simply call this number and its exact location will be revealed to within ten centimeters and a half of its location.”

This is my type of car. A new Mercury Marauder done up SDAI style. The SDAI Technologies Division has been ordered to prepare a dozen for the Secret Service and another half dozen for the Central Intelligence Agencies’ Special Directorate.

“We took the standard engine which was no slouch at 302 horsepower and we upped the compression ratio, threw in a custom camshaft with a bit more lift and put on new heads. We used the vortex ram-air system and beefed up the cooling system with a four tier radiator and oil & tranny coolers. And then..”

“So what’s her output?” I interrupt, cutting to the chase.

“She puts out 450 horsepower and 375 lb feet of torque...that’s on the dynamometer with the exhaust on.”

“Track times?”

“She’ll do the quarter in 11.9 at 118mph. 0-60 comes in at 4.4 seconds if you warm up the tires. On the street you can expect that to be 5.5 seconds.”

“That’s quite impressive. I take it you guys kept the weight down?”

“Not really. It weighs in at 5544 pounds. But we tweaked the gear ratios so that it really uses first gear effectively and will pull solidly all the way to about 150mph.”

I open the door and sit in the leather seat. Embossed heads of the God Mercury are on the seats, giving the grey interior a sort of art-deco revival look. The new car smell is still intact and reminds me of days past when I simply drove stock cars off dealers lots. The mechanic bends down and points at the revised dash and center console mounted beneath the factory dash. It has been done up in factory colors and materials and one would be hard pressed to think this vehicle did not roll off the factory this way.

“That’s your primary observation console. Full sensor suite, surface ground sweep, ground map, moving target indicator. You have an infrared and day imaging sensor array with 360 degree azimuth coverage. All of it is linked to those two screens which have both a wide and narrow field of view switch. By pressing that little blue button you can simultaneously display radar and imaging video. The red button will put you in combat mode.”

“Is there a manual that comes with this?” I ask, knowing I will forget half of the features and fail to use them when I need them.

“Better than that. The CD player is linked to a small yet powerful computer and the display center. See the little handle? Pull on it.“

I pull on a small handle where the glove compartment used to be and a miniature keyboard console unfolds and faces the driver at a 45 degree angle on an extendable arm.

“We have a instructional CD which comes with the vehicle. It contains restricted material and information though and so should not be left with the vehicle or allowed out of your possession. It‘s in the vehicle attache case in the trunk along with spare keys and an old fashioned paper manual.”

“What’s the armament situation?”

“The vehicle’s panels have been removed and reinforced in a thermal sandwich process. All the armor is Threat VII level and is a monolithic composite of fiberglass and ceramics. It’s not an M1A1 but pretty darn close. It’ll stop a 5.56mm rifle round in its tracks. But if a rocket propelled grenade hits you, well you’re probably toast from the shock waves, but the cabin should resist breach.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind when the situation arises.”

“Well, you have an array of firepower at your disposal. Much of it is custom made for this vehicle application. A DARPA munitions contractor was keen to work with us and test a new multi-barrel computer controlled, ‘electronic charge’ firing gun and the firing rate is simply astounding. I don’t have the exact specs, but it is fast enough to scare even me. Four surface to air rocket launchers which elevate from a panel on the trunk are pretty nifty too and are linked to the radar array. Perfect for taking out helicopters or any overhead threat.”

He opens the trunk and I see the complex battery of launchers on their motorized base. It seems a bit over the top, but I’m sure the Secret Service will be happy to have them available when an airborne threat poses a danger to the President.

“Not much room for luggage then I take it?”

“Ha. Ha. Real funny.”

“The tires are run flat with self sealing attributes and hard cores. They could survive any nearby explosion and still keep the vehicle moving up to 70mph.”

“That’ll come in handy when Tech7 gets angry with me. What sort of communications equipment does she have?”

“You’ll get a COMSAT Mobile Link hook up using the Inmarsat-M service. A special voice programmable sound recognition unit will call up to 350 different numbers for you when you can’t get your hands free or are busy with other systems. It‘s got two different antennas, including one that has been rewired for MilSat communications frequencies as well.”

I take the key and insert it into the ignition. I turn it and a throaty, nasty growl can be heard from under the hood and emerging from the exhaust pipes. I can’t wait to open her up on the long desert highways.

“Thanks. But I‘ve got an important meeting to attend. Damn fine job. It‘s not a vehicle, but rather a real piece of engineering art.”

I fasten the seatbelt and close the door. It closes with effort as the door weighs as much as two doors, reminding me of an old Cadillac with mile long and heavy doors. It closes with a reassuring ‘thunk.’

I slip the console shifter into drive and point the vehicle up the ramp and out of the enormous facility into the sunlight. The mirror finish on the hood gleams and I try to find the radio, before I take her out of the parking lot and onto the streets. I find that the radio has been repositioned in order to give room for the screens and the controls are located on the steering wheel. With a touch the radio blasts to life. I press scan and the stations automatically probe until they lock on a satisfactory signal. It pauses on an all-eighties station. I recognize the song and click it again so that it stops seeking.

“...No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women
No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder it's dark
Everyone around me is a total stranger
Everyone avoids me like a psyched lone-ranger
Everyone



That's why I'm turning Japanese
I think I'm turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I'm turning Japanese
I really think so...”



My mind turns back the clock two decades as I listen and I turn onto the street, SDAI’s vehicle facility growing smaller in the rear image view of one of the monitors. I press down on the pedal and I can feel the 450 horsepower push me into the seat with force and authority. The empty streets help me familiarize myself with the cars’ characteristics.

“Turning Japanese
I think I'm turning Japanese
I really think so...”

I lay off the pedal and try out the brakes. It stops straight and true and fast. The music suddenly clicks off and I listen.

“This is Eaglesnest4. The Eagle has landed and is en route to Shamballa. Over.”

I am late. And I put a little power into my return to Shamballa to get there before the Eagle arrives.

I pull up and see the convoy of vehicles parked in the sun. The Eagle has already arrived. I stop the car and get out. Uzi wielding security personnel give me the once over as they don’t recognize the vehicle.
In a few moments I am descending.

“Sir, he’s waiting for you in your office.”

“How long has he been here?”

“About ten minutes.”

“Thanks.”

I walk down the hall and approach the door.

“Identify Tech1, Technologies Directorate.”

“Identity confirmed. Access granted.”

The door opens automatically. I enter and see Rumsfeld watching CNN on his laptop, his feet perched on my desk He doesn’t get up. That’s not his way.

“You’re late.”

“Just got a new car. A real looker too. If you’re nice... I might just see if I can get you one.”

“I don’t drive much. I am driven.”

“That’s too bad. Oh well... don’t say I never offered you anything though.”
“Fifteen hours ago we started our moves in Tikrit. We have informants who swear they have some more VX down there and I want to send in a team to secure it after the town has basically been locked down.”

“One of my teams?”

“No...one of the NFL teams... how about the Miami Dolphins...what do you think?”

Rumsfeld is tired. He barks more when he is tired. I can tell that he has not been getting enough sleep.

“Most of them are still in Baghdad helping secure the underground tunnels. How soon do you need them?”

“2 hours.”

I approach my desk and Rumsfeld realizes I want to sit in my seat. He gets up and moves to one of the other leather chairs and takes his laptop with him.

I enter a few messages into my palm pilot and they are on their way to Tech14 who is half way across the globe. I turn to face Rumsfeld who is slightly scowling as he watches the news.

“You didn’t come all the way down here to discuss a team deployment, what else is on the agenda?”

“Cheney wanted me to talk to you about Syria. We have a few freelance assassination squads made up of folks of middle eastern descent roaming around Damascus. Cheney doesn’t like them, doesn’t trust them. He found out one of them had links to Dzerzhinsky Square.* We want to see what assets we can put together between our various resources. Bush does not want Tenet or the CIA involved in this for obvious reasons.”

“I’ve got a team in Jordan that’s been doing passive data collection. They could be activated for sweeps in Syria with a turnaround time of about fifteen hours.”

I look at Rumsfeld and see he is trying to calculate something in his mind.

“What’s the problem?”

“We have minor complications with the Israelis. They have been subtly sabotaging Bush’s Palestine initiative and have their own hit teams in Syria. It’s getting messy down there and I am afraid they will scare out the targets before your team gets a chance to sweep. Naturally, they have denied it but we have our own independent verification.”

“I can get them there in five hours if everything goes perfect.”

“Make it so.”

I enter a special code and then a few more messages into my palm pilot.

“It’s done. We’ll see how fast a turnaround we can get. Anything else?”

“Actually yes. The Russians, French and Germans are again starting to put people on the ground in Baghdad. We think they’re trying to bribe their way into good favor with some potential future leaders, but we have no verification only conjectures and speculation. The CIA is already stretched thin and we may need more resources to observe all these happenings.”

I sit back in my chair listen to Rumsfeld with one ear and think of my new Marauder. I start humming very quietly to myself.

I think I'm turning Japanese
I really think so
Turning Japanese
I think I'm turning Japanese
I really think so...”

SDAI-Tech1

*Catchphrase for a person with former KGB ties.