2. A Covert Insertion

AI in the Battlespace: Chapter 2

2. A Covert Insertion

Lieutenant Colonel Carrington thanks Liu for his introduction and flicks the first slide of his presentation onto the screen. The title reads: Delta Force Insertion.

Ben Carrington is slimly-built, in his late thirties and serves with Special Operations Command. His secret disappointment - or is it shame? - is that he was never selected for Delta Force himself. He had applied of course: Special Forces were the hallmark of perfection, the ultimate in soldiering.

He had known that selection would be hell but he had thought himself well-prepared: for route-marches, rough terrain, heavy packs, severe and secret time-limits, interrogation games, recovery trucks departing as, exhausted, they were about to climb aboard.

All of this he had anticipated and he did not do so badly. But in the end he was found out. Those ultra-real tests - cutting a man's throat or slicing a shiv into a kidney - were where he had faltered. Scrubbed, he watched as those with less empathy and intelligence entered fabled squadrons and deployed for covert missions of national importance.

Carrington feels a fake now as he stands in front of this audience, ready to narrate a covert operation into Siberia to the outskirts of a decrepit science city, to the camp where the Russians develop their autonomous soldiers. Imposter syndrome.

“This is from the helmet of the first operative,” he says as the scene rolls.

The video - green speckles witness savage light enhancement - provides an aerial view from above the clouds. Green pin-pricks of stars stand out against the darkness above. Ahead, a synthesised tunnel of nested rectangles maps the glidepath. It's constructed in real time from wind, weather, altitude and GPS: paraglider satnav.

Wind rustles on the audio, the angle of the display shifting now and again as the paraglider is caught by a passing turbulent gust. Otherwise all is calm.

“The two operators were dropped from 40,000 feet above the Arctic Ocean and wing-suited toward the coast. At 15,000 feet they deployed their canopies and we’re watching as they glide to their destination. They're radar-transparent - invisible to Russian air defenses.”

In this heavily-edited presentation the screen rapidly cuts to an after-landing forest view. One of the operatives has climbed a medium-sized tree abutting the clearing. He's attaching a small object like a bird box high on the trunk. The two canopies lie in untidy heaps on the grass. The light-intensifier is still working hard on this moonless night, struggling in the extra gloom under the trees.

“That's the satellite uplink,” Carrington says, “suitably disguised. It also handles backhaul from the camp as you will see.”

The scene cuts again, perhaps 30 further minutes have elapsed. The soldiers have now moved a few kilometres; they're in sight of the main entrance into the camp. The road is dimly visible as a deeper, smoother black. It’s summer and the snow has retreated. This is a secret installation, officially not even here.

A small, barely visible, but moving dot has been helpfully circled on the screen. It’s flying low toward the  guardpost which is itself marked by a dim porch light.

“Nothing ever happens here,” says Carrington, "so the guard stays put in his hut and does whatever he does. The drone is going to drop some USB sticks near where the staff go in. They have labels  like "Pictures of my Girlfriend” in handwritten Cyrillic.”

He's rewarded with quiet laughter from the shadowed audience.

“It’s an old gag but it rarely fails,” he explains, “They're going to be plugged into the nearest computer and shared around. I’ve reviewed some of the videos - I must say Natasha was quite creative. And then the NSA package just rips through their network.”

Laughter again.

On screen the headcam-wearing operative controlling the drone has turned to face his companion, who lies prone with his silenced HK416 trained on the guardpost. The night is peaceful and almost silent as the drone returns from its first foray.

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