Nick led Terry and several of his top technicians on a red-eye straight to Atlanta. without stopping. They were picked up at the airport by a blacked-out SUV sent by the research institute and immediately headed north on the interstate.
After driving for about five hours, they finally reached the rendezvous point—a sparsely populated, rugged stretch of the Appalachian foothills.
"Nicholas, glad you made it in one piece," Professor Denzel Maddox greeted him with a warm smile.
Nick quickly shook Denzel's hand. "Sorry we're late, Professor Maddox."
"Hmph, at least you're aware you're behind schedule," Bill Dye snorted, eyeing Nick with clear dissatisfaction.
"Hahaha, don't mind him, Nick. Professor Dye has been a little grumpy waiting for you," Denzel laughed.
Nick turned to Bill with an apologetic look. "Professor Dye, I'm truly sorry. Between the hurricanes and the scale of the Miami project, things just kept dragging. I wanted to be here sooner, but I couldn't just walk away from the contract down south."
"I think you're just making excuses," Bill said, turning his head away petulantly. "You finished the show and then waited days to head up here. Is it because you're a big celebrity now and don't have time for us old-timers?"
Nick felt a few metaphorical sweat drops hit his forehead. They say people become more like children as they age, but Bill wasn't even seventy yet; where was this childish streak coming from?
Denzel patted Nick's shoulder, chuckling. "Truth is, Professor Dye is just a little jealous. We all saw the Miami footage. He thinks it's a crime that such high-level tech is being used for 'useless' light shows."
"Denzel! Is that what I said? Stop putting words in my mouth," Bill snapped, though he was clearly paying close attention to the conversation now.
Everyone burst into laughter. Bill realized he'd been baited by the old-and-young duo and grumbled a few choice words to himself for falling for it.
Once the laughter died down, Bill looked at Nick and said softly, "I watched the Miami feed. It was impressive. It looks like you've significantly optimized the architecture since we last spoke."
Nick nodded. "We did a total overhaul on the system. Honestly, a lot of it was thanks to the DJI hardware. Having that kind of processing power allowed us to push the software to its actual limit."
Bill nodded. "DJI didn't become a market leader by accident; their engineering is solid. After you left Atlanta, we got a preliminary handle on your code and tried to adapt it to our specific mission profiles. The results were decent, but there are still some bottlenecks we can't clear. That's why we called you in—we need these bugs squashed before the live-fire test."
"We're ready to get to work," Nick promised.
"Good. You've had a long trip. Get some sleep, and then we'll have a full briefing," Bill said, his tone softening as he noticed how tired Nick looked. He added, "And I heard about the noise on social media. The truth always comes out; don't let the trolls get to you."
"Thank you, Professor Dye," Nick said, genuinely touched.
Bill waved him off and walked toward the command tent. Nick took a breath and told his team to get settled.
As he looked around the site, Nick finally realized the scale of the operation. They were in a high-altitude, arid valley with almost no signs of life for miles. The nearest town was a good twenty-mile drive through rough terrain.
The base camp was perched on a ridge, connected to civilization by a single dirt road. Surrounding the clusters of tents were specialized equipment trailers and mobile satellite uplinks. But what really caught his eye were the launch platforms lined up along the edge of the cliff. They looked like massive, industrial bookshelves, but instead of books, each slot held a sleek, white fixed-wing drone.
"Look at the sheer number of them!" Terry whispered, staring at the rows covering the ridge.
"Got to be at least a thousand," one technician guessed.
Another shook his head. "More. The whole ridge is packed. I'd bet it's closer to five thousand."
"Three thousand five hundred, to be exact," Director Kai said, walking over with a Major in tow.
"Nicholas, thanks for making the trip," Kai said, shaking Nick's hand.
"Sorry I'm late, Director Kai," Nick replied.
Kai shook his head. "You're right on time for the hard part. By the way, you and your guys need to sign this."
Nick took the clipboard from the Major, frowned, and said, "An NDA? Didn't I sign one of these back at the institute?"
"This one's different. Higher classification," Kai explained. "Everyone on-site has to sign it."
Nick nodded and signed his name. "Why the massive scale? I thought we were starting with a thousand-unit test."
"What, losing confidence in your own code?" Kai teased.
Nick looked at the miles of launch racks with a wry smile. "The more units you add, the more the pressure climbs. You guys really aren't interested in making this easy on me."
"Haha, show me a researcher who isn't under pressure." Kai laughed, then pointed toward Bill, who was hunched over a laptop in a distant tent. "Look at Professor Dye. He's nearly seventy, and he's out here in the middle of nowhere eating dust with the rest of us. At his age, he should be on a beach somewhere playing with his grandkids. But he's here. Why? Because he feels the clock ticking for this country's tech."
"If we fall behind, we lose our seat at the table. If we fall behind, someone else calls the shots. That's the pressure those guys live with every day."
"I get it," Nick said, his voice heavy as he watched Bill work.
For men like Bill, the pressure wasn't about money or a job title; the government wasn't forcing them to be there. The pressure was internal. It was a sense of mission—a desperate need to contribute every last bit of their expertise while they still could.
It was because of scientists like Bill, who gave everything without asking for the spotlight, that the country was making these massive leaps in record time, building the foundation for the next American century.
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I have no idea if the Appalachians stretch all the way to Atlanta lol!