The Slip
Page 23
“Director Greenfield, hello, good to hear from you,” Brian said.
“I was calling to update you and the team that the main objective you've all been working so hard on has been completed successfully.”
“We're watching it live right now, Director.”
There were three live monitors around the conference room, each showing a newsfeed from a different station. They all showed similar imagery captured in large part by people’s cell phones, swarms of the latest micro bots falling to the ground.
More than 30,000 Americans had died over the last three weeks from illnesses and chemical agents carried by these miniature weapons, and many thousands more remained sick.
“How is Julia?” Brian asked.
“She is safe in the Beijing Embassy and will be coming home soon.”
“How about her… partner?” Brian asked, careful with his word choice knowing the rest of the DARPA team was not aware of the Slip.
“Still not accounted for but hopefully we’ll locate him soon,” Greenfield said.
Brian’s eyes remained glued to the monitors as he continued his discussion with the CIA director.
“We only bought some time, Brian. This is just the beginning of what could become a covert war, the likes of which we have never seen before.
“I’ve heard Jerry has been breaking some ground and gaining momentum with his brute force supercomputing.”
“Yes, we're trying to accelerate that, and if you are right, Director, it could become pivotal to the next phase of whatever this thing is,” Brian said.
“Good to hear, Brian. Everyone's impressed with what you and your team have done. I wanted to call and give you the update from my end.”
“Thank you, Director, we’re looking forward to seeing Julia again. Please let us know when she'll be getting back.”
“You'll know as soon as I do, Brian. Bye.”
Brian hung up the phone and looked around at the team of individuals who had all contributed in their own ways to this success. Everyone looked excited and exhausted, unaware that the battle had only begun.
“Everybody, Julia is safe and will be coming home soon.”
108
SAM OPENED HIS EYES TO a dimly lit room where he lay on a stone floor. A barrage of aches and pains from his body started reporting in, some worse than others. The cold floor had leached away all of his warmth suggesting he had been laying there for some time. Wracking shivers overtook him as his body tried to replace the heat the floor was siphoning away.
Sam sat up and took in the surroundings, realizing he was in a cell. The walls and floor were formed by a mixture of smooth natural stone and large chiseled stone blocks. There were thick metal bars spanning floor to ceiling, separating his cell from whatever lay beyond. The two side walls in his cell curved slightly outward as they passed by the metal bars giving the impression they were natural formations. The only light Sam received seeped around these curves from what he guessed were very dim wall mounted fixtures beyond his line of sight.
There were no openings to allow daylight in and most of his cell remained cloaked in darkness. If he scooted towards the back wall Sam imagined the darkness was deep enough to swallow his entire countenance leaving only the whites of his eyes for anyone to see looking in from beyond the metal bars.
His cell appeared void of anything. He could see faded outlines where it looked like items had previously been bolted to the wall. Maybe a bed? A circular outline on the ceiling connected to a long thin line leading out of the cell. Maybe a light and electrical conduit?
With a quick mental inventory Sam confirmed he was still in the same host he last remembered from the Zhangjiakou data center. There were scrambled memories of the disabled equipment in the second Dragonfly operation center. A wave of relief passed through him as he realized he had completed the mission. His thoughts quickly turned to worry about the fates of Peng, his family and Julia. He was suddenly desperate to know about them and how the DARPA team and all of America had fared. Sam’s heart jumped as an image of Li’s reptilian smile popped into his mind. Where was Li?
Sam looked around with a renewed interest in his surroundings. Surely there was a way to transfer out of this cell. Then he realized that with the exception of the metal bars he was surrounded by stone. Was that why it appeared the fixtures were recently removed? A bed would have been metal. The overhead light and connecting conduit would have been metal. Could his captors have figured out his abilities?
A hopelessness overtook him, and suddenly he felt like a prisoner, not because of the dank cell where he found himself, but, for the first time, like a prisoner in a body. Unable to slip, he was also unable to avoid whatever might befall this body. He retreated to the dark corner of his new home and, in the process, retreated deeper into the psyche of the Chinese soldier.
109
“PENG, YOU HAVE TO GET on the plane now. We can’t wait any longer,” Julia said loudly to be heard above the noise from the gusting wind and the plane’s engines 30 feet away. It had taken a lot of convincing to get him, his daughter and wife in the car, and now standing on the tarmac it looked like he was having second thoughts.
“What about Sam? How can we leave without Sam?” Peng asked helplessly.
“We’ve been over this already, Peng. Sam can take care of himself and it’s not safe for us to stay in China any longer.”
Julia took a step closer, putting her hands on his shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. The wind continued to hammer them both and their proximity created an intimate cocoon allowing her to lower her voice.
“Think about your wife and child, Peng. Let’s get them to safety. Trust me, Sam will be fine.”
Julia had to hide her lack of conviction from Peng as she said these words. The political situation between the U.S. and China had deteriorated rapidly after the destruction of the second Dragonfly operations center, and Julia had been ordered to return home. If it had not been for Peng and his family, she would have defied the order to wait for Sam no matter the cost. Apparently Peng had developed a strong attachment to Sam as well.
Peng’s wife came up behind him and gently coaxed him forward with an arm around his waist while holding her daughter tight against her other side.
Halfway up the stair Julia watched Peng follow his family through the door of the private plane and looked back at the expanse of the city through blurry eyes. “Thank you, Sam. This is not goodbye.”
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BOOK 2 COMING SOON…
AGI Horizon - Book 2 in the Hero Concept series is in progress and I hope to have it out before the end of t
he year. Check my website www.tomcwilloughby.com, or sign up for my newsletter https://tomcwilloughby.com/slpmailinglist for updates. Below is an excerpt introducing one of the new characters:
A crackling pain in Bard’s back woke him with a jolt. The sudden movement hammered his brain against its inner walls producing blackout levels of fire inside his skull, dwarfing the burning sensation from his back. Another “day after”, another climb back to some semblance of existence he thought reaching for his pills on the side table. Just the sight of the bottles induced a small amount of relief.
It took multiple attempts to move three pills down the desert of his throat. Satisfied they were moving in the right direction he closed his eyes again awaiting relief.
As his synapses fought back to life one by one, he remembered the source of his back pain. He had been getting a full back tattoo over the course of the past few days, or maybe it was weeks. It could be months and Bard wouldn’t know the difference, all his days ran together. He must have had another session under the needle yesterday judging by the severity of the pain. Bard suddenly wanted badly to look in the mirror, to see the progress of the beautiful lady coming to life on his back, but movement was still out of the question.
He needed another show. The cornucopia of drugs moderated the strange dreams and thoughts he endured, but playing his guitar and belting out his songs in front of a live audience was the only way to wash them away, at least temporarily. Still in his early 30s Bard was already a music legend. The mystery of his shows, when and where they would occur, fueled the hunger of his rabid fans; never knowing when they would be able to slake their thirst. It would have been a genius marketing ploy, but in reality it was a by-product of his painful existence.
Bard was a prodigious talent on the guitar and equally talented with his voice, reminiscent of a Chris Cornell. He began seeking refuge in his music at an early age, once the voices and dreams had started. Doctor’s diagnosed him with everything from autism to schizophrenia, all of which they tried to solve with prescribed drugs which never worked. Bard eventually decided he could find better solace with medications of his own choosing. Some helped him resurrect himself in the morning, others evened him out, and some brought him to sleep. But he had yet to find a drug to keep him safe from the voices and dreams.
Bard travelled constantly with no destination in mind. By the time he was in a new location he often had no recollection of where he had just been. His proclivity for unannounced shows in random locations branded him with his name. The drugs kept his brain addled to the point of barely functioning, and if it weren’t for the music and the shows he would have long since ceased living.
The only constant in his life besides music and pain was his agent Jenny, the angel able to assemble a band and setup a venue whenever he called, wherever he was. Jenny would also dispatch someone to record the audio and video of the performances, which she then sold online. The money they brought in was making Bard a wealthy man, although this never seemed to compute with him and he continued to travel by thumb and stay in rundown motels.
The cool fuzzy blanket of pink pill numbness had come to rest, now cocooning his mind and body. His thoughts turned again to a show, and Jenny. Bard located his phone and called the only number in his contacts.
“Hi Bard, that was fast.” Jenny said.
“What?”
“Ready for another show?” Jenny said.
“Yes.”
“You just had one a couple days ago. I usually don’t hear from you for at least a week. Everything okay?”
“Show.”
“You don’t sound good, although you never sound good Bard.” Jenny said. Exasperated, she felt helpless watching Bard’s downward spiral, which seemed like it might be accelerating if the frequency of his need for shows was any indication.
“What the fuuuuuck.” Bard said groggily as he looked at his outstretched arm.
“What is it Bard? Are you okay, should I have someone come over.”
“Someone carved numbers into my arm.” He said, inspecting the blood-encrusted lacerations forming a rough series of numbers on his left arm. The cuts were fresh and still oozed. It surprised him the pain hadn’t drawn his attention prior, but he had other pains which had demanded his focus until now.
“What!? Are you in some trouble? Maybe it’s time to come in Bard. I can keep you in a safe—”
“Just get me a show.” Bard said, cutting her off and then the connection.
About the Author
Tom C Willoughby is the author of The Hero Concept series. He makes his online home at www.tomcwilloughby.com. You can connect with Tom on Facebook at www.facebook.com/tomcwilloughby and you should send him an email at tom.willoughby@tomcwilloughby.com if you would like.
Contents
DAY 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
DAY 5
Chapter 5
DAY 10
Chapter 6
DAY 11
Chapter 7
DAY 12
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
DAY 13
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
DAY 14
Chapter 15
DAY 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
DAY 16
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
DAY 17
Chapter 27
DAY 18
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
DAY 19
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
DAY 20
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
&n
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