All Quiet

[Cassie Granger 0]

All Quiet

Kal and Cass

 

Traffic on the command channel had dropped, CMTAC had a handle on the rest, the AT was locked on, Kal wasn’t dodging debris anymore, and Cass finally had a chance to relax. In her early days she would have been shifting uneasily, constantly checking data, asking for sitreps every five minutes - meaning she would've driven the bridge crew insane. Experience gave her a sixth sense about the crew, the ship, the data stream….

 

“So you gonna answer that question, Cap?”

 

“Which one, Gunny? Quadrant’s full of questions,” Cass snorted.

 

“You know,” he said like she should remember. Must have been a doozy of a question. “why FORECON and counterterrorism… why not just stick to FORECON, forget the mind games?”

 

Half turning toward him, her eyes darted around the bridge as she spoke lowly, “Not the place, Kal.”

 

Kal mimicked her action and turned back to his console, but it got her thinking. To the ordinary citizen, marine scout sniper and counterterrorism agent didn't mesh - action vs. mind games? Why merge the two?

 

The answer? Out of necessity.

 

In the first decades of the counterterrorism agency there was a solid line between agents and security details. In high-threat areas, specialized security details were loosely called “shooters.” They were tactical professionals, highly-trained marksmen, elite warriors skilled in high-threat action, combat casualty care, and a list of other specialized skills.

 

On the other hand, most agents were analysts, interpreters, case agents, and case supervisors. Agents had no combat experience. They were trained on city streets in law enforcement jobs or in college. They wore suits and worked from behind a desk, occasionally meeting with an informant at a ritzy hotel (the usual) or a sleazy dive (avoided unless absolutely necessary). Drop boxes were exactly that - a mailbox, trash bin, or similar where the informant or agent literally dropped written information for the other to pick up. As technology progressed, physical drop boxes morphed into unsent draft emails, but that’s another story….

 

Don’t misunderstand. Agents were sharp covert personnel trained in high-level defensive maneuvers, high-speed evasive techniques, close quarters tactical skills and everything else that would defend themselves and their charges if necessary, but for the most part they were armed suits keeping a close watch on diplomats and high-level-targets. When they got into a real bind, their security detail took care of it, and if not, they brought them back in a body bag, along with whoever they were protecting.

 

All that changed with earth’s global war on terror. Enemy tactics changed, forcing agent tactics to change. Terrorists used elite military tactics to target high and mid-level assets (especially diplomats); agent training changed to reflect that. Security details upgraded to elite high-level SPECOPS personnel with impeccable backgrounds and decades of experience. Agents modified their suits to include tactical armor and customized personal weapons. They continued close quarters protection of their assets, but they were more highly trained and closely coordinated with their military security details. Every angle, every entry and exit strategy, every possible scenario in their area of responsibility was rehearsed until it felt like they were born there. They learned the language, the culture, and especially the chief local players - good and bad - so they could achieve their objective: bringing the asset back alive.

 

But they still had a problem. Someone in power finally realized that something had to be done with the increasingly blurry lines between agents and security details. For an agent to do the job and survive, they had to be more than a smart suit with a gun. They had to be combat trained and combat experienced, which is why Cass was 1/1 FORECON first, counterterrorism agent second….

 

“Got tone, Cap,” said Kal, leaning forward to change orbital altitude. “Someone else doesn’t like dodging Praxis.”

 

“I’m on it. Sky’s getting crowded, looks like a tactical force?” She glanced at the tactical officer to her right.

 

“Routine Klingon patrol returning, Captain Granger. They’re just passing through.”