“Can we depend on the Army for medical supplies and ammunition?”
“Resources gets more complicated,” Smith told her, “but medical supplies are a definite yes. That includes some food and vitamin supplements, as well. The military will do an inventory and see what you already have. They’re going to give you supplies for the Mount, but they’re also going to need some things in return, just so you know.”
Stealth shifted in her chair. “Such as?”
“Well, people for starters. They’re going to have a recruitment drive, just like they had when they rescued people from Yuma. The Army needs soldiers right now, and odds are there are a few thousand eligible people in your Los Angeles population.”
“Eligible,” repeated Stealth. “Are you initiating a draft?”
“No,” said Smith. “Sorry. Poor word choice on my part. It’s completely voluntary. But you figure even if ten percent of your people decide they want to sign up, that’s over two thousand people.”
“A generous estimate.”
“Actually, going off how the survivors from Yuma reacted, it might be low. I also understand from one of your security people, Sergeant Billie Carter, there are a number of Marines living in the Mount and the surrounding complexes.”
“Yeah,” said St. George. “About a dozen of them, counting her. Their platoon flew out to LA with Cerberus and stayed with us because... well, they didn’t have anywhere else to go. A few have died since then. We’ve also got seventeen National Guardsmen, two Navy guys, and a retired Air Force general.”
“Didn’t know about those last ones,” muttered Smith, checking over his list. He scribbled a note in the margin. “Anyway, point is they’re all going to be called back to active duty and returned to military command. It’s a stop-loss situation.”
“The stop-loss provision applies only to currently active personnel,” said Stealth, “and can only be enacted by the President.”
He shook his head. “Special provisions. They can pull back anyone who ever served if the situation calls for it. When martial law was declared, it went into effect automatically.”
“Unpleasant, but not surprising,” said Stealth. “Continue.”
Smith tapped a finger on the edge of the clipboard. “Okay, like I said, they don’t have any trouble leaving you in charge, but they want to make sure everything’s on the up-and-up.”
St. George sighed. “Is this about Christian Nguyen?”
“Sort of. The Army’s lawyers are going to go over how you’ve been running things, look at this government you’re putting together, and make sure it doesn’t violate anyone’s rights.”
“The Army has lawyers?”
“Oh, yeah. Tons of them. There’s three here on Krypton. They’re also going to take custody of any prisoners you have and give them a trial under the military justice system.”
“No.”
St. George looked at Stealth, and then his own shoulders tensed. “Yeah,” he said, “there might be a problem with that. Some of our prisoners are... special cases.”
“It’s not an optional thing,” said Smith.
“It is not,” agreed the cloaked woman. “Prisoners shall be released on a case by case basis. This is not up for debate.”
He reached up and gave his tie a small tweak. “I’ll have to talk with Colonel Shelly about that.” Smith flipped to another page of notes. “I think it’s also understandable that they want the Cerberus system.”
“Yeah, about that,” said St. George. “Thing is, we were just talking with Danielle and she—”
“She has decided to return to Los Angeles with us,” said Stealth. “And with Cerberus.”
“Ahhh,” said Smith. “That’s... that’s unfortunate.”
“Why?” Stealth shifted her hips and her shoulders tensed.
He took the clipboard in both hands. “The Cerberus Battle Armor System was developed under a DARPA contract, paid for with military funds. It’s government property. It stays here.”
Stealth took a step forward. Smith stepped back, bumping against the conference table. St. George set a hand on the cloaked woman’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Smith said. “I know you won’t believe me, but I didn’t want to play this card. I even went to bat for you guys. But the colonel’s firm on this. He wants the suit here and he wants her building more of them.”
“You might get the suit,” said St. George, “but not her. Danielle wants to come back to the Mount. She’s a private citizen. You can’t stop her.”
“Actually,” said Smith, “we can. She’s been a government employee since 2006. She’s been stop-lossed, too.”
“The stop-loss act applies to military personnel,” said Stealth,
“Thanks to a little clause in the Patriot Act, it applies to any government employee above a certain security level. The same badge that let her peek at all those other exoskeleton projects while she was building Cerberus is keeping her here and under Colonel Shelly’s command.”