April 15
2035
Meet the New Boss
The scream woke her from a fitful slumber. Sarah Moore stared at the ceiling above her bed and waited for the sound to fade with her dreams.
She slid her legs out from under the covers and sat on the edge of the mattress. Sarah leaned forward and yawned. With her head hung over her knees, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and listened to Aubree’s excited cries wafting up the stairs from the kitchen.
Today was her big day. The dance recital she’d talked non-stop about for a month was tonight. Sarah glanced at her Viz on the nightstand and prayed nothing would prevent her from being there for her daughter.
Laughter reached her ears as her feet touched the carpet, bringing a smile to her lips. Sarah showered and dressed, so she could see Aubree before Rosita took her to school. Before leaving her bedroom, she clipped her Viz to her belt and checked there were no missed calls.
She entered the kitchen and Aubree’s face lit up. “Mommy!” Aubree jumped down off her stool and rushed Sarah. Her little arms wrapped around her waist and Sarah returned the hug.
“How are you doing, kiddo? Excited for tonight?”
Aubree flashed the smile Sarah loved to see. “Yuh huh. You’re coming, right? You won’t miss it?”
Sarah cupped her chin and smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart.”
“Is time to finish your breakfast, Miss Aubree,” Rosita said.
Aubree bounded back over to the island and slurped down the last of her cereal. Sarah moved on instinct toward the brewed coffee. She grabbed the carafe and nodded to Rosita. “You’re a life saver.”
“You work too hard, Miss Sarah.”
Sarah poured herself a steaming cup and said, “You say that every day, Rosita.”
She thrust her chin out and bobbed her head once. “Is true every day.”
Sarah sipped from her mug and felt the nectar within revive her. Last night had been a late one. Another one of far too many. Sarah knew the numbers, augment activity was on the rise. Every agent under her command at the Department of Supernatural Affairs was maxed out on overtime chasing down the growing list of threats. Her gut told her it was all building toward something.
“Let’s go, Miss Aubree,” Rosita said. She hurried Sarah’s little girl out of the kitchen. “We must not be late for school.”
Sarah set her mug down and followed them to the front door. She watched Aubree shoulder a backpack that seemed far too large for her six-year-old body and sit to tie her shoes.
Aubree looked up at her with pleading eyes. “You promise you’ll be there tonight?”
Sarah felt her Viz on her hip. A voice in her head warned of the dangers of promises, but the longing in her daughter’s expression overrode her better judgment. “I promise.”
Aubree finished tying her laces and jumped back to her feet. She held out her hand and said, “Pinky swear?”
Sarah hooked her pinky around her daughter’s and pulled her into an embrace. “I swear, kiddo. No late night, tonight. Mommy will be there.”
Aubree’s smile grew and she bounded out the door followed by Rosita. Sarah shut the door behind them. Her Viz rang before she could hope for a quiet day. She answered, “Moore.”
“There’s been a sighting.” Sarah recognized Clay’s voice. A long-standing desk agent with the DSA, one of the few with both access to her private line, and the guts to make the call. “Hikers near Shenandoah National Park spotted a man carrying several knives.”
Sarah furrowed her brow. “You’re certain it’s one of ours?”
Clay said, “They claim he had yellow eyes.”
Sarah held the Viz tighter. “Ripper?”
“Fits the description.”
Sarah asked, “What would he be doing there?”
Clay answered, “We don’t know. Recruiting new augments, maybe?” Sarah thought about it. As she did, Clay offered, “Moss thought it warranted a look.”
“Where is he now?” Sarah asked.
“En route with an HK squad, primed and ready.”
Sarah considered her options. If it is Ripper, bringing him down would be a major coup for me. But, is it worth exposing an entire Hunt Kill squad if the lead turns out to be false?
She paced the corridor for a moment. At length, she said, “Send me transport.”
“Already on the way. Five minutes out.”
Sarah smiled to herself. Clay’s instincts made him invaluable to her. “Prepare the drones. I want them in the air by the time I arrive at HQ.”
She shouldered on a jacket and unlocked the lockbox on top of her cabinet. She grabbed the nine-millimeter handgun from inside and fitted it into her shoulder holster.
Before she disconnected the call, she said, “I want to confirm it’s Ripper before Moss puts boots on the ground.”
Sarah stormed into the command-and-control hub of the DSA. All chatter ceased, and eyes turned away to avoid her piercing gaze. “What’s the latest?”
Clay arranged images inside the large projection hovering in the center of the room. He provided an update without stopping. “ETA on drones is seven minutes. HK Squad is ten minutes behind them.”
Sarah examined the rotating shot of Shenandoah National Park, taken by one of their satellites. Infrared data superimposed over the land showed several clusters of heat signatures throughout the park. She motioned toward them and asked, “Can you pinpoint the target in this?”
Clay continued to move projections with his right hand and slurped a soda with his left. He crumpled the can and tossed it in a wastebasket beneath his console before he answered. “I’m running a locate algorithm through our ICE mainframe with data from the sniffers in the lead drone.” He bit his bottom lip. “It’s a long shot, though—a lot of heat signatures out there.”
Sarah murmured under her breath before she asked, “I trust you have another plan to find the target?”
Clay gave her a sidelong glance. “Do I ever disappoint?” He swiped new data into the HoloSphere projection and said, “Identchip tracking is off the table—Ripper’s was scrambled long ago. However, by factoring in what we know about the landscape and feeding it into a probability algorithm, I can triangulate a probable course and narrow the field.”
Sarah watched reams of numbers cascade through the image of the park as Clay worked. A ping sounded from his console, and his smile broadened. He swiped new data over top of the infrared map and a trio of blue dots surrounded a group of heat signatures near the southern tip of the park.
“Excellent work.” Sarah stared at the pulsating blue dots. “Reposition the drones to that location. I want a real-time view of the target.”
Clay made some adjustments to display sky above deep forest within the projection. “This is the feed from the lead drone. Three minutes to approach.”
Sarah watched the swath of trees fall away beneath the racing drone. The HUD showed fast declining numbers superimposed over the top left corner—distance to target—and a crosshatched horizon line through the middle.
“Patch me through to Moss,” Sarah ordered.
Clay shifted the drone footage to the left and spliced the image with a vid feed from the cargo hold of a Scorpion 9H attack chopper. It showed a serious soldier decked out in kavendium armor and a flight helmet.
Sarah said, “What’s the sit-rep, Commander?”
She watched him adjust his helmet mic, and then his voice boomed over the speakers. “Closing on final approach, ma’am.”
“We have drones ahead of you to gain eyes on. Hold position until you hear. Repeat—do not engage.”
Over the roar of the interior hull, Sarah heard Moss respond in the affirmative. Clay pushed the vid to the side and refocused the projection on the drone feed. A few tweaks and they zoomed down to ground level where the target rested against a tree.
Sarah scrutinized the image as the target raised his head and probed the heavens above. “That’s not Ripper.”
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br /> “Which could put Identchip tracking back in play,” Clay said.
Sarah watched him run the captured image through all the facial recognition databases at their disposal. As they waited for a result, she asked, “Any chance the target saw us?”
Clay answered, “No chance. We’re cruising at forty-five thousand feet. He’s blind to us.”
Sarah moved closer to the projected image. She watched the target scramble to his feet and sprint into the bush. Before he did, his eyes locked on the drone’s camera. Sarah turned to Clay and said, “He made us.”
“How?” Clay stammered, “How could he?”
“Augmented vision.” Sarah pointed to the image. “Are we tracking him?”
Clay answered, “We’re locked on. He can run, but he can’t hide.” A light flashed on his console, and he swiped new information into the display. “We have a result. Meet Stephen Howell, reported missing two-and-a-half months ago.”
“Fits the profile of an augment,” Sarah said with a nod. She weighed the risks of running an operation against doing nothing. She said to Moss, “Target is not Ripper, but we believe he possesses augmented vision. He’s alone, and on the move in the southern quadrant. Should be an easy kill. Take two agents and rappel from the chopper.”
Moss touched his mic and asked, “Why only two, ma’am? We’re loaded with a full squad here. Why not land and enjoy the numbers advantage?”
“You have the numbers advantage,” Sarah pointed out. “He’s only one. No match for three HK agents. No need to risk further exposure.”
“Understood.”
Sarah heard his displeasure over the noise of the hold, but knew Jake Moss would obey without further question. “Leave the mic open and switch on your helmet vid. I want to monitor the Op from here.”
Within the projection, she noticed the Scorpion slow and circle. Moss pointed across the hold at two agents also clad in kavendium armor. “Roc. Barnes. You’re with me. Let’s move out.”
Aaron Barnes tightened his straps and gave a terse nod. Tommy Roquefort secured his gear and flashed a cockeyed grin.
The rear door of the Scorpion slid open and the roar from the rotors became deafening over the vid feed. Sarah watched lines unspool out into the night and one-by-one, her agents rappelled down to the ground. As Moss went out, the forest floor rushed up toward her, caught in his vid feed.
On the ground, Moss took charge. “Roc, flank right. Barnes, you go left. I’m up the middle. Weapons hot and rebreathers on.”
Each man slipped a rebreather over their face. Sarah paced a tight circle around the control room. The rising sun glared in her vid feed, casting shadows about the forest floor. Moss moved with a grace she admired, dashing through the underbrush without a sound.
“Howell has stopped running,” Clay said.
Sarah stopped pacing. “Where is he?”
“A clearing fifty yards ahead of them.”
Sarah ordered Moss, “Have your men spread out. Target has stopped in a clearing. Do not let him see you before you have a shot.”
Moss glanced left, and they both saw Roc moving five paces ahead of him. A look to the right showed Barnes in an equal position.
“Something’s wrong,” Clay said. He zoomed in closer on the clearing using the drone feed. The image showed Howell looking in the direction of each agent.
“He knows where they are,” Sarah whispered.
Clay shook his head. “That forest is dense. Even with augmented vision, he can’t see through things.”
Sarah watched Howell skirt to the edge of the clearing and disappear into the underbrush moments before her men arrived. She smiled knowingly. “You’re right, he can’t see them.” To Moss, she said, “Target escaped to your right. He made you again.”
Moss touched his mic and said, “No way he saw us coming, I don’t care how good his eyesight is.”
“I think you’re right, Commander. He has augmented hearing. He heard you coming, just like he heard the drone. Have Roquefort and Barnes pursue the target. Order them to make a racket—the louder the better. You go straight and cut him off after they drive him back your way.”
Sarah watched Moss nod and relay the commands. He hurried into the bush. In the distance she heard her agents raising a commotion.
“It’s working,” Clay said. “Target is moving toward Moss.”
Sarah stared at the projection, her arms crossed behind her back. She heard the growing roar of a waterfall nearby.
Clay split the projection, and they watched the tracker pulsate closer to the river while Moss rushed toward it.
“Pulse and breathing are steady,” Clay reported on his vitals.
“How far behind the target now?” Sarah asked.
“Closing in fast. Howell just stopped at the top of the waterfall.”
“Commander,” Sarah said, “target is stationery at the top of the waterfall. Do not let him get the drop on you—take the shot and end this.”
Moss exited the forest along the riverbank. Bright sunshine glared off the fast-moving water. He swung his weapon around and found Howell standing beside the waterfall.
Moss took aim. “Throw down your weapons!”
Howell looked feeble in the image—his yellow eyes betrayed his exhaustion. Without ceremony, he unclipped a bandolier loaded with blades and let it fall to the ground.
“Take the shot, Commander,” Sarah ordered.
Howell asked in a soft voice, “Why are you chasing me? I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You’re one of them,” Moss said.
“I didn’t ask to be,” Howell said. “I can’t turn it off. Do you think I want to be this way? The voices are too much to bear.”
“Do not engage, Commander.” Sarah shouted, “Take the damn shot. Now!”
Moss adjusted his grip on his weapon. He flinched at the crack of a gunshot to his right. Barnes stepped out of the bushes, the barrel of his weapon smoking.
He whipped his head back to front in time to see Howell grab at his stomach and stumble backward over the cliff.
“What the fuck?” Tommy appeared beside Barnes and pushed his weapon down. “That wasn’t your shot.”
“He froze,” Barnes sneered and swiveled his weapon out of Tommy’s grasp. “I didn’t.”
“He didn’t freeze, asshole,” Tommy said. “You ever think he just didn’t want to fish the damn corpse out of the drink?”
“Status,” Sarah looked at Clay. “Now.”
Clay switched from the drone feed to the Identchip tracking data. “Tracker places him in the water, at the bottom of the falls.”
“Is he alive?” Sarah asked.
Clay shrugged. “Can’t say for sure.”
“Ma’am?” another agent addressed her, “The Director wishes to see you in his office.”
Sarah turned from the scene. To Clay, she said, “Send gatherers in to clean it up. We were never there.” She moved behind him and faced the projection to speak with Moss. “Gather your men, Commander, and haul your asses to the bottom of that waterfall. Find me that corpse. Extraction in one hour. Do not get made.”
Sarah straightened her jacket, pushed her shoulders back, and marched from the room to inform Director Mercer of another successful operation.
The setting sun glistened off the tranquil reflecting pool at the Lincoln Memorial. Sarah Moore stood across the circle on the green of the north side. Her lips parted in an ominous smirk as she watched Harrison Kelly approach through a sparse crowd.
He reached the foot of the stairs and made a show of checking his watch. Sarah waited while he paced the concrete slab. She made a note of his protective detail hanging back on the sidewalk—two black-suited secret service agents making no attempt to blend in. Their presence complicated matters, but she hadn’t expected the White House Chief of Staff would come alone.
Sarah crossed the circle. When she got close, he turned toward her and she noticed his camera-ready smile was missing. He greeted her with a scowl.
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“You watch too many damn movies, Sarah.” He tucked his windswept tie inside his suit jacket and waved at their surroundings. “The Lincoln Memorial at sunset? A little overdramatic, I’d say. Is there a reason we couldn’t meet in my office?”
Sarah gave him a condescending stare. “Don’t be dense, Harrison. There are some things not spoken of in the office.”
“So instead you choose a public venue?” Kelly scoffed. “I thought you ran covert operations?”
“I see no one taking notice of us, Harrison.” Her voice hardened. “Not all clandestine work is hidden.”
“Whatever.” Kelly dismissed the lesson. “Get to the point, Sarah. I don’t have all night.”
Sarah turned away from the monument. “Walk with me.” Kelly followed her toward the reflecting pool. After several minutes, she asked, “Do you doubt my intelligence?”
Kelly snorted. “You’re a snake in the grass, Sarah, but I would never doubt your intelligence.”
“Good,” Sarah said. “Then let’s not insult it during this conversation.” Kelly shrugged and ran his tongue along his teeth while he waited for her to continue. She resumed walking. “I want the directorship.”
Kelly laughed. “You’re one of a kind, Sarah. Did you really drag me out here to make a pitch for a job I have no say in and isn’t even vacant?”
She winked at him. “It’ll be vacant soon enough. And I believe in being ahead of the curve.”
Kelly said, “Adam Mercer is a legend. How do you plan on removing him?” Sarah stared flatly at him. He shuddered and said, “Never mind. On second thought, I don’t want to know.” They walked further along the path. “Even if you get around Mercer, I still have no say in his replacement.”
Sarah clicked her tongue at him. “Don’t be so modest, Harrison. I’m sure your boss values your insights.”
Kelly kept a casual pace beside her. He gestured with his hands. “Let’s say you’re right about Mercer leaving. You realize he’s the only reason Hayes hasn’t shut down the DSA. If he goes, your agency goes with him. How do you plan on getting around that?”
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