by Jan Domagala
It would take weeks for the search to be completed so De Boer asked for more ships to help out on a rotating pattern. His request was granted with two more cruisers being added to the roster allowing down time for the crew and marines.
Sinclair had to report to President Takagi on the present status of events.
“Glad you could come, General, please take a seat,” Takagi said as Sinclair entered the President’s Oval Office at the White House. No longer the home and residential headquarters of the President of the United States of America, it was now home to the World President and office to EarthGov. The Confederation was run by a council whose head chairperson was the World President, with smaller matters, more personal to Earth alone, being run by EarthGov.
“Thank you Mister President, hope you don’t mind but I asked Matt Hawk to accompany me as he led the operations against OMEGA and was involved at every level,” Sinclair replied before taking a seat before the large mahogany desk.
“Not at all, I’m sure his input will be most valuable and help me to understand this terrible situation a little better,” Takagi said, his face a mass of worry lines as concern was etched across his normally serene features. A slightly built man in his early fifties, he was remarkably fit due to his daily regimen of karate exercises. His inky black hair was swept back from a high forehead. Deep brown eyes looked at the two men before him, the epicanthic folds accentuating his Asian heritage.
As the two men sat down heavily in the offered chairs Takagi took in their dishevelled appearance, their bloodstained faces and said, “My God, you look like hell. Can I get you anything, a drink? When was the last time you two ate a decent meal or slept?”
“Not sure, sir, we’ve been a bit busy, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Sinclair replied with a sigh as he suddenly realised just how exhausted he felt.
“Of course, so let’s make this brief so that you can both get some well earned rest,” Takagi said.
“I’m afraid that may not possible for some time yet, sir,” Sinclair started but the President held up his hand to halt him.
“That’s not up for discussion, General. I cannot afford to have you making mistakes because you’re fighting fatigue at the same time as you’re fighting OMEGA, so you General Sinclair and you, Matt Hawk will go home from here and get at least eight hours sleep. Do I have to make that a Presidential Order?”
“No, sir,” Sinclair replied with a half smile.
“Now then, where are we with this whole situation?” the President asked.
“Okay, what we know so far is that Jonas Wilde operated a group known to us as OMEGA. Somehow he was siphoning assets from MaxCorp to fund it. Using the same assets that MaxCorp was providing Col Sec with, he made OMEGA the viable threat that it became.
“Apparently Wilde had an unlimited supply of money to fund this organisation. He probably cooked the books so that the money appropriated for certain projects was overestimated making the budgets larger so that he could supply both Col Sec and OMEGA with the same items.”
“Do you think Maxwell Eisenhower was aware of what he was doing?” Takagi asked bluntly.
“Up to this point we have no way of knowing either way and until we can get to question him I’m afraid that question will have to remain unanswered, sir.”
“I understand, but please make that a priority,” insisted Takagi.
“I assure you Mister President that it is one of many priorities I have at this time, sir,” agreed Sinclair.
“What else have you learned of this group?”
“Not only was it extremely well funded but it had operatives implanted inside Col Sec itself. At this point we are not sure how deep that infiltration has gone but it’s something we are actively investigating. We also know that they had a cloning operation that was really quite impressive. As far as we know it had two levels of clones each called Rovers. The basic model was a normal humanoid model that we presume was built for administrative duties at managerial level. The other model, the Rover5, was the military version. Matt has more insight on these than I do, sir.”
“And what have you learned about these Rovers, Matt?” asked Takagi.
“The basic model is your average team leader, sir, intelligent, articulate and intuitive all built around the same matrix, much the same as the Rover5s except in the latter’s case physical attributes had replaced mental acuity. So far we are not aware that they share any memories or experiences but it’s something we are working on. How far their individuality extends once they’re activated we’re not sure either. We do know the Rover5s were genetically engineered to be stronger and faster than the basic model and with a higher pain threshold made them quite tough to kill. At this point in time we don’t know how far this cloning operation extends or even where it is. We think it must be secreted somewhere in one of the many MaxCorp research facilities probably under a false name to keep it hidden from prying eyes and, until we talk to Eisenhower, we won’t know. Wilde had an alternate base where he could have a similar operation going,” Hawk explained.
“How’s the search for that coming along, General?” Takagi asked.
“We’ve been working for two days straight with rotating shifts, three cruisers on, one off. It’s a slow process, sir, and if it’s there we’ll find it. We do know that no ships have been seen leaving the area, so either they’re dug in deep and hoping we don’t find them or biding their time to make a run for it.”
“Or they could be planning to fight to their deaths,” suggested the President with a dour expression.
“No, I don’t think so, sir. I tend to gravitate towards the first thought that they’re dug in deep and are waiting for us to pass them by. We’ve dealt them a major blow, sir. We’ve captured the Nemesis, killed their first attack force along with their commander-in-chief. They’ll need time to regroup and rethink their strategy, e.g. do they appoint a new leader and continue or do they disband and go their separate ways? Either way they’ll need to keep their heads down until they decide. To act now without clear leadership would be suicidal for all concerned.”
“Okay, I see your point,” agreed Takagi. “What about Confederation Headquarters, what’s happening there?”
“We’re still in the process of clearing the site, making it safe and identifying the dead, sir. Again it’s a long process.”
“Of which I’m totally aware and my sympathy goes out to the families of those who lost their lives but I must be practical here and point out something we are all aware of and that is that we have to carry on, so I suggest that Col Sec be moved to a temporary location along with Confederation Headquarters until a more permanent solution can be found,” Takagi insisted.
“I’ve already made provisions for Col Sec to be relocated in our underground base at Area 15, sir. I would suggest that the Confederation Headquarters be moved to the Capitol Building here in DC. It can be renovated and refitted to the needs of the residents and, with the modifications to security I can provide, it can be functioning within the week at most, a few days if they work around the clock. In that way, sir, business will revert to normal more quickly. We can extend the existing structure to accommodate the extra staff much quicker than if we had to start from scratch with a whole new building.”
“Very good, I’ll get my team on that right away,” Takagi agreed gratefully.
“Sir, one more thing,” Sinclair said almost reluctantly.
“Yes, General, what is it?”
“Sir, we’ve learned a valuable lesson from OMEGA, in that we shouldn’t place all our eggs in one basket. MaxCorp supplies a staggering quantity of our munitions, equipment and tec to Col Sec which gave OMEGA the opportunity to become the powerful threat it is,” Sinclair explained.
“You said ‘is’, do you think they still are a threat?” Takagi asked leaning forward in concern. He was just beginning to feel they had the situation under control and now this!
“Until I have positive proof that Jonas Wilde is dead, the base is found
and destroyed, that Maxwell Eisenhower was not involved and that Col Sec has no more moles, I can’t be certain of anything, sir. I’ll proceed under the assumption that they are still a threat,” Sinclair answered as concisely as he could given the information he had to work with at the time.
Takagi sat back and steepled his fingers under his chin as he contemplated what had been said. Finally he spoke, “I see, please continue.”
“With your permission, sir, I would like to contact RandCorp with a view to them supplying Col Sec. I do not wish to sever ties with MaxCorp until we have other suppliers who can step in to supply our needs with the volume we require and to our exacting standards. Besides, it’ll give us a chance to keep an eye on MaxCorp to see if they still have ties to OMEGA,” suggested Sinclair.
“You suspect Eisenhower then?” queried the President.
“Let’s just say I find it hard to believe they could hide an operation as huge as this from the man in charge. Even if they could, they must have someone else in place now that Wilde has been revealed as commander-in-chief, to carry on their work. Rooting out all the moles in a group as insidious as this will take some time, sir,” agreed Sinclair.
“I take it then that you want the contact with RandCorp kept on the quiet?”
“Initially, until they’ve agreed and I’m certain they can meet our needs and standards. Once we’ve seen some samples and tested them, the rest of the operation can be handed over to admin. I know it sounds a bit OCD, sir, but until I’m confident the security aspect has been covered I’d prefer to take charge.”
“I understand General, and as always you have my trust and the support of this Office.”
“Thank you, sir, I appreciate it.”
“I also trust that because Captain Hawk is here you wish him to continue as the lead in this investigation.”
“I do, sir.”
“I agree also, it would be a waste to remove him to other duties in favour of someone else when he is so familiar with the details of this case. Is there anything else gentlemen?”
“No, sir, not at this time.”
“Then I’ll let you get back to it as I know you are extremely busy men.”
“Thank you, sir, as are you,” Sinclair said as he and Hawk wearily got to their feet to leave the room.
“Good luck gentlemen and keep me informed, and get some sleep,” Takagi said as they turned to leave the room.
As they left the White House in the armoured ground car, a Grand Voyager 600s manufactured by MaxCorp, Hawk relaxed into the lush leather upholstery and sighed, “You know, a shower and eight hours uninterrupted sleep sounds just about right,” he said as he rubbed his tired eyes.
Sinclair looked at him and said, “I agree. Make sure you’re well rested Matt, because we’re meeting Able Rand at ten tomorrow morning.”
Glancing at the chronometer on the dash in front of him he noticed the time, twenty-three hundred, and he said, “Doesn’t that guy ever sleep?” meaning the President.
“Oh, about the same as us, I guess,” Sinclair said.
“You mean never while on duty, right?”
“That’s right.”
Matt leant back on the headrest and said, “Okay, nudge me when we’re at my hotel,” then he closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.
Sinclair listened to Hawk’s breathing slowing as he sank into a slumber and wondered how he could do that, fall asleep at the drop of a hat wherever he was. It was an ability many agents cultivated over time but one he had never been able to grasp. Instead he sat back and looked through the side window watching the lights of the city pass by, pondering at what lay ahead and hoping the steps he was about to put into place would help prevent another tragedy taking place.
Only time would tell.
28
The Grand Voyager 600s was at Hawk’s hotel by nine the following morning. He had managed to get some sleep after a hot shower to wash away the grime and blood accumulated during his recent efforts against Jonas Wilde’s OMEGA.
Having been awake for at least an hour he had time to shower, get dressed and have a breakfast of a bacon and mushroom omelette with coffee delivered to his room. Dressed in combat trousers, a casual shirt and his favourite leather jacket he left the hotel. As per regulations he wore a soft leather holster beneath his left armpit that held his Sig P996, although he didn’t think he’d need to use it this time. As he got into the rear seating section he saw General Sinclair looking relaxed in a dark blue pin stripe suit.
“Good morning Matt, hope you slept well,” the General said as Hawk sat next to him.
“Yes, thanks sir, and you? You look rested,” Hawk replied.
“I managed to drop off thanks, now down to work,” Sinclair said, wasting no time. “According to our file, RandCorp is run by Able Rand and has been for the last thirty-five years. He took over from his father when he deemed young Able ready to take the reins. It’s been passed down from generation to generation for the past six hundred years. His son and daughter, Joshua and Jessica, are his chief officers and help him run the business.
“It really is a family concern. RandCorp is as big as MaxCorp and just as powerful. They already supply us with atmosphere processing plants for terraforming, most of the ships of the Independent Space Agency, the Colonial Line of cruise ships and they build some of our cruisers such as the Legend. Their weapons are of the best and only lost out on the contract to supply Col Sec to MaxCorp due to the latter offering the lower bid, something that Able Rand himself complained about. He claimed that somehow, someone at MaxCorp got wind of Rand’s bid and undercut it by one per cent.”
“I remember hearing about that, it caused quite a stir,” opined Hawk.
“Yes, nothing was ever proved either way but even to this day it’s rumoured that Able holds a grudge.”
“Has that got any bearing on why you want to offer him this deal?”
“It will give him the chance to prove something he’s maintained to this day, that his weapons systems are superior to those supplied by MaxCorp and this time the price is not an issue. If they’re as good as he says and he can supply the numbers we need in the given time frame, the deal is his.”
“Well, seeing as OMEGA has the same systems as us and was using them to kick our asses, a change might give us the edge we need.”
“My thoughts exactly. Here’s the data file, upload it to your NI and get to know the corporation and the players involved. I want you fully briefed by the time we enter Rand’s office,” Sinclair said as he passed him a palm pad with the data file encoded within. Using his NI Hawk connected with the small device and uploaded the data file directly to his NI where it would be stored and where he could access it at will, similar to a memory.
The rest of the journey was completed in silence.
When they reached their destination the Grand Voyager 600s pulled up outside the towering edifice that was RandCorp. The two passengers got out while their vehicle was directed to a parking area in the basement of the building where it could wait until summoned.
Sinclair and Hawk walked through the front entrance where they were scanned and their identities verified. Only because they were officers of Col Sec were they allowed to keep their weapons.
Once this process was completed they were escorted to the penthouse where Able Rand’s office was situated and their meeting would take place.
The decor in the building was tasteful and conducive to a good working environment with few distractions, but when they reached the penthouse it was obvious more money had been spent on a few of the finer little luxuries that would make the working day just a little more comfortable for the higher echelon.
Able Rand greeted them in his private office and as they entered he got to his feet and came around from behind the large mahogany desk. Tall and slim, he exuded an air of raw, undefined power. His hair was a dazzling white and worn brushed straight back from a high forehead over piercing brown eyes. He had an easy smile that brightened his f
ace and a smooth, unblemished complexion that belied his sixty-three years of age.
“Gentlemen, I’m so pleased to see you, but somewhat puzzled by the urgency of your request and intrigued by what this could be all about. Please, take a seat so you can explain,” Rand said extending a hand out first to General Sinclair then Hawk. They were both slightly taken aback by his straightforward approach and by the strength of the man’s grip in the firm handshake.
“I must thank you for seeing us at such short notice, I’m General…”
“There’s no need for introductions General Sinclair, I know all I need to know about you sir, and this must be the intrepid Captain Matthew Hawk, former Recon Delta marine recruited by General Sinclair himself to work for him in Col Sec’s Intelligence Division. There’s more but I think I’ve made my point. You may call me Able, all my friends do,” Rand said cutting the General off.
Hawk glanced at Sinclair and smiling, said, “I prefer Matt, and how can you be certain we’ll be friends, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Just a feeling I’ve got, gut instinct and it’s almost never let me down,” Rand replied. “Now tell me gentlemen, what can I do for you?”
Sinclair sat on the luxurious two-seater sofa by the wall to the right of the desk. “Okay Able, what I’m about to tell you is classified and must remain that way. You must have heard of the attack on the Confederation Headquarters building.”
“Who hasn’t, it’s been on every news channel.”
“Well the group responsible is called OMEGA and it was run by Jonas Wilde.”
“The same Jonas Wilde who works for that snake in the grass Maxwell Eisenhower?”
“Yes, and we think he was siphoning funds from MaxCorp to fund OMEGA and using that company’s assets, which they were providing us with, to use against us.”