and supporters of the president's party. So Project Valkyrie was born.
All it took was the president's signature, a special dispensation by the House Intelligence Committee, and a billion-dollar black budget from the CIA, the National Security Agency, and the Air Force combined.
And that was only the beginning.
Maybe my idea is crazy , he thought. Many people expected him to fail - maybe even wanted him to fail.
If that was the case, then Project Valkyrie was the rope, and Taggart was about to hang himself. And only a bunch of teenagers can save me, the Project, and maybe even this country, if it should ever come to that. Taggart shook his head. I pray that it never will... but just in case...
The general refocused his eyes on Kip Daniels's personality file. As he skimmed the psychological profile, school records, family history, IQ tests, and medical records, the general wondered if he was wrong - if maybe Project Valkyrie wasn't exactly what some of his enemies in the Pentagon called it.
Taggart's Folly.
Of course, General Taggart couldn't take all the credit for this crazy scheme. It was Colonel Krupp and Dr. Markham who developed the video game called BATTLEGROUND 2000. "The perfect way to find the brightest and the best candidates for the Project," Dr. Markham stated.
Taggart had to admit that the psychiatrist had been right, too, because try as they might, Taggart could never train even the best pilots the Air Force had to offer to operate the complicated weapons systems of Raptor-One effectively.
"You can't teach an old dog new tricks," Dr. Markham had insisted. "They're too old. Running the simulator is like learning a martial art. And to learn a skill like that, the younger an individual starts, the better he or she will perform."
That, in a nutshell, was the reasoning behind BATTLEGROUND 2000. Taggart had to admit that it worked. The video game had found seventeen possible candidates - all in their mid-teens - who scored above 800,000 on the game. Each machine was designed with a chip that notified the command station here in Nevada when someone scored above the programmed mark.
These candidates were unknowingly photographed and fingerprinted by the game machine itself, and this information was transmitted by satellite to the Project's massive computers. Each potential candidate was then targeted by Air Force Intelligence for observation and evaluation. Those who displayed past criminal, behavioral, or psychological problems were eliminated.
None of those rejected were even aware that they had been tested, or that the government had completed an extensive background check on them, their parents, teachers, friends, and associates. Only those with a high probability of success were finally selected as candidates for Project Valkyrie.
Which left them with only six potential candidates so far. Six candidates who were summarily drafted.
Oh, the Air Force and the Pentagon liked to call it "voluntary conscription," but that polite phrase covered a multitude of sins. The truth of it was that the best and brightest were conscripted - if need be, against their will. The problem was that pressing, the situation that serious.
So far, conscription wasn't necessary. All of those who'd been offered the chance to join took it - with their parents' or guardians' consent. Indeed, the candidates welcomed their selection for a variety of reasons.
For some, it was an opportunity to get out of a bad situation. For others, Project Valkyrie was a call to adventure, or to duty. Most of the recruits were high achievers in other areas. They were highly motivated and smart enough to recognize a golden opportunity when they were offered one.
Unfortunately for Kip Daniels, his situation fell in the first category. If he took the job, it would be to escape his disturbing and chaotic life.
Kip was what social workers called a "troubled" teenager who came from a "stressed environment." A child of a broken home, Kip never knew his