Author: Julian Miles, Staff Writer

Joel enters the meeting room to find everyone gathered.
“Good morning. Now, I know details about yesterday’s attacks are going to take weeks to formalise, but I have a lot of powerful people with no worthwhile understanding of the complexities. So please give me something, because I’m fed up with being shouted at and threatened, or threatened and then shouted at.”
Sympathetic looks are exchanged. Joel’s been Primary Security Liaison ever since he was appointed by the previous administration. He’s known to be thorough and honest. It’s also known he only remains in the job because every other person approached to take over has flat-out refused.
Diana waits until Joel slumps into his seat.
“Views online range from guesswork to outright storytelling. Nevertheless, we’re monitoring closely in case someone brags anonymously. Despite repeated statements from various official sources and every bot we can bring to bear on social media, a substantial part of the population believes we’re under attack. Panic buying of essentials along with record ammunition and weapons sales are being reported nationwide.”
Joel sighs.
“Matches what I’m being told in tones ranging from sceptical to hysterical.”
Diana nods towards the display where a map of Idaho is covered in layers of multicoloured lines.
“The attack started as the first jet, M739UT, started approach to Friedman Memorial. A drone swarm launched from a container hauler rolling on ID-75, which ascended rapidly and cluster-attacked the intakes and cockpit of the jet. Various online videos show the drones to be performance-enhanced commercial units, some with explosive payloads.”
“What about the plane behind?”
“Hit by a SAM from an antique MANPAD mounted on a repurposed Bayonet 150. Whole thing was dug in on the high ground above Berry Creek Drive. M739UT had a chance. K653NX never stood one.”
“That’s when the alert was issued?”
“Yes. All traffic bound for Friedman was diverted to Boise. We used a hazardous tanker collision and fire on ID-75 as the justification.”
Joel nods.
“Which was what the attackers wanted?”
Diane sighs.
“Yes. The drone swarm launched on ID-75 was from one container. The drone swarms at Boise came from eleven containers, and we have video of a few of the larger units appearing to fire air-to-air missiles. So far we have fifty dead, over a hundred injured, and both counts are expected to rise. Twenty-two multinationals have confirmed the loss of founders or main investors. We’re still working to confirm diplomatic casualties.”
Peter raises a hand.
“Now for the undisclosed part: at 23:58 yesterday, DARPA received a TEC – ‘Training Exam Complete’ notification from Marcus Three. That notification category doesn’t exist. Someone backdoored our own tactical A.I. and gave it a whole new category. The first mission? How to kill as many attendees arriving for the Sun Valley Conference in private jets as possible. The parameters were strict: all strikes to occur within a 28-minute window, all launch vehicles to be remotely operated, all units to be transported by unconnected third parties, and much more. The authorising officer is Colonel Samuel Troutman. Examination of communications involved reveal the official motto in every embedded image has been replaced with ‘Occidere, tempus’. Because of the fictional name given, we’re interpreting it as ‘To kill, period’.
Joel looks puzzled, then swears under his breath.
“First Blood? A soldier with PTSD triggered by police ill-treatment… How does that fit?”
Bernice leans forward.
“Misdirection. I’d say ‘First Blood’ is a simple statement. They’re not done.”
Joel groans.
“This is going to get worse before it gets better. I’ll get the NTAS alert switched to ‘Imminent’. You call all off-duty personnel in.”