Re: [IC] Chapter Two
RAAF Base Edinburgh
Adelaide, South Australia
16 April 2015
1142 hrs local (0212 hrs Zulu)
"PO Williams. Come in. Sit down." Major Gary Nichols gestures to the lone unclaimed chair in the dusty gray room. His voice rasps and his eyes are windows onto sleepless nights and imminent violence. Despite the room's cool temperature, he's pale and sweating.
The room's other occupant nods politely to Cooper but remains silent. He's an ambiguously dark man, thin and hawklike, with a pale Heidelburg scar on his left cheek. His anonymous gray suit might as well be a uniform.
Nichols waits for Cooper to be seated, then roughly clears his throat. "Williams. We have an irregular international situation requiring the assignment of a liaison officer to a foreign team that will be operating on our soil. The, ah, domestic side of the problem involves a case which ASIO has been tracking for some months. It's recently come to Defence Intelligence attention through our Five Eyes relationships. ASIO is not aware that we are examining the case. It has not been widely circulated because of its political sensitivity." He pauses to look down at a single handwritten sheet of notes.
"If we understand the situation correctly, we are looking at the first modern cell of radicalized Aboriginal terrorists." Nichols grimaces at Cooper's reaction. "As I said, political sensitivity. They're receiving operational advice and, possibly, material assistance from foreign Islamists. Until recently, ASIO believed their connections to be solely with Jemaah Islamiyah. New data has invalidated that, for reasons which our guest will make clear to you. Please give him your full cooperation. While his unit is present in Australian territory, you will be their primary liaison with Defence Intelligence." Without further elaboration, he stands, nods to the stranger, and exits.
The stranger watches Nichols exit with a mix of resignation and compassion, then extends a hand to Cooper. "Petty Officer Williams. I'm Kapitein Bram Maatsen, Royal Netherlands Navy Korps Mariniers. I'm the executive officer of a NATO joint task force with an unconventional portfolio. My intelligence chief likes to describe us as 'rocket surgeons with guns' and I can't dispute his turn of phrase." He smiles humorlessly and withdraws two file folders from a briefcase at his feet. He arrays them on the table. Both bear the seals and stamps of high-level classified material. The thinner is labeled VEHEMENT HARPIST PERIWINKLE; the thicker, TUNGSTEN MEMENTO.
Maatsen flips open the thinner folder and extracts a large glossy surveillance photograph of two Indonesians, two Aboriginal Australians, and a Middle Eastern man. He indicates the latter with a fingertip. "This individual goes by the name of Mas'ud Attar. The actual Mas'ud Attar is, or was, an Iranian Revolutionary Guard officer, subsequently a Da'ish operative. My unit has previously encountered other hostile forces operating under this identity..."