by Jim Roberts
“You’re insane,” Joe said, “You’re all fucking insane!”
“No, Braddock. You aren’t seeing the big picture. When the Viral A.I. goes online, the world will begin anew. Olympus, ever a leader in the ways of war, shall dictate military policy, unlike anything that came before. The leaders of the world will believe that it is they who make these decisions, but all along we shall be guiding them—all in the name of a future where war is completely and utterly controlled. No more rampant civilian deaths, no more gluttony of the world’s corrupt leaders forcing men to die in pointless conflict. A new, cleaner future will be born—one where Olympia controls all.”
Joe could hardly fathom what he was being told. The magnitude of what this man wanted seemed patently absurd. But Joe had seen more than enough in this war to fully believe Olympus had the brass cojones to bring about what it threatened.
“So what now?” Joe asked, “You can’t honestly think I’m just going to go along and help you activate the A.I.”
“That, Mister Braddock, is exactly what you are going to do.”
At that moment, the door to the bridge sprang open. Into the room walked a group of Centurions, clutching a handcuffed female prisoner.
Joe’s blood turned to ice at the realization of who it was.
“Jade!”
His lover’s face was badly bruised. Jade’s eyes lit up at the sight of her man, “Joe! Oh, thank God, you’re alive!” The Centurions grasped Jade across the mouth, muffling any further attempts to speak.
Reality had turned inside out for Braddock. His mind raced, trying to figure how something like this could have happened.
The Imperator explained, “My idiot of a son decided in his infinite wisdom to bring her along after he reacquired the second Code disc. Perhaps the only correct decision he’s ever made.”
Joe sent the Imperator a look of pure malice, “If you touch her I’ll rip your heart out, I swear to God!”
“So she is special to you.” The Imperator remarked, an amused look on his old face. “Outstanding.”
Joe looked back to Jade, “Don’t worry, we’ll get out of this, I promise.”
Her green eyes met his. He could see her grow calmer, her soldier training taking over. They were in hostile territory and it would serve no one to give in to despair.
The doors into the bridge opened once again. A man Joe vaguely recognized from the Zimbala campaign, stepped in, clutching a Zero Halliburton briefcase.
Marching up to the Imperator, the white-haired old soldier clutched his hand to his chest, “My Lord, Secondus Titus wishes to present you with a gift—” he held up the Halliburton, “—the Code of War.”
The Imperator nodded, “Excellent, Falco. Where is my son now?”
“Waiting in your quarters with Vorena, my Lord. As you requested.”
“Good. You are dismissed, Tribune. Take the disc to the Stream Core and begin preparations to activate the Viral A.I. I will join you shortly.”
Falco nodded. Saluting his Commander, he cast Joe a withering glance before leaving the room.
The Imperator approached Joe, who was still being restrained by his Centurion captors. “So you see, Braddock, there is no play here. You have only one way out of all this. You will activate the Viral A.I. for me and raise the Fog of War, or that beautiful woman will die, screaming.”
* * *
FEELING LIKE a rat in a maze, Orchid crept through the labyrinthine tunnels of the lower deck of the Titan. Upon leaving the hanger bay, she’d descended down through the maintenance hatch and found herself in the engineering substrata of the Titan. Using the shroud to hide her from unfriendly eyes, she took off through the underbelly of the submarine, searching for a way to find Joe.
After a few minutes of fruitless wandering, she managed to eavesdrop in on a conversation between a group of Centurions. They were laughing that the Peacemaker, Braddock, had been taken to the bridge to be personally interrogated by the man called the Imperator.
Fearful for her comrade, Orchid took off through the guts of the Titan in search of a way to the bridge. Following the directions labeled along the corridors, Orchid made her way toward the bow of the vessel. If she was following the instructions properly, the bridge was four decks above her present location.
She was about to head up when the battery warning signal went on the Whisper suit HUD.
Dammit, not now!
The last several hours had put a hard toll on the armor. The shroud had drained the internal power core of the suit to an unsustainable level. She would need to deactivate the stealth cover or risk total power down of the Whisper armor.
Gotta get out of sight...
As she passed by several Olympus technicians—oblivious to her stealth form—she came across a large vent on the side of the corridor. She quickly assessed it to be part of the ship’s internal air flow system.
Perfect.
She leaned down and grasped the vent and gave it a hard tug. The Whisper suit’s high tensile muscle system yanked it off with ease. Getting inside, she replaced the grate as carefully as possible. Once in, she deactivated the shroud, conserving what remaining battery life the suit still had.
Alone now, she could travel unmolested.
It didn’t take long for Orchid to find out that the internal air system of the Titan was a batshit collection of ductwork resembling a massive hollowed out Tinkertoy set. Attempting to make sense of the signs stenciled at certain intervals, she managed to climb up level by level until she was on Deck A-1. Remembering the signs she’d studied down in the Engineering deck, she recognized this deck as the bridge level.
Stopping periodically to peer out of the small fluted gratings designed to provide air to the ship’s occupants, Orchid kept a weather eye open for anything that could point her to the bridge.
After a few minutes of searching, she finally found it.
Peeking through a gap in the ducting, she laid eyes on the Titan control center. Swarming with Olympus techs and other assorted PMC personnel, the deco-metallic control hub of the enormous submarine was a computer geek’s wet dream.
And there, standing amidst it all, were her friends.
Joe Braddock and Jade Masters. Trussed up like chickens, they were being spoken to by an ancient looking man with bad skin. In the safety of the air duct, Orchid boosted the suit’s microphone to better listen in.
“...once the Stream Viral A.I. is activated—” the old man said, his voice like an untuned church organ, “—the nations of the world will become our puppets. Out of this world gone mad, we will mould a new Rome—where war is no longer a plaything for politicians. With the Fog raised, the Olympia Brotherhood shall wield power unimaginable in the history of the world. That is the true Code of War.”
Orchid frowned. Viral A.I.? What was he talking about?
Joe spoke, not sounding impressed by the old man’s spiel. “You and this screwed up military can take a flyin’ fuck for all I care.”
The old man was not amused. “I had hoped you might have understood what we were trying to accomplish, Joe. It doesn’t matter now.” He turned to the Centurions guarding the two Peacemakers and said, “Take them to the Stream Core. It’s time to activate the Viral A.I. I’ll be along presently. Tell Falco to begin the satellite retasking procedure. I want everything prepared for activation in two hours.”
The lead Centurion bowed. “Yes, my Imperator.”
Orchid blinked. That man is the Imperator? An old basket case barely able to walk?
The Imperator had one final word to give Joe. “I must see my fool of a son. I hope by the time I return, you will have agreed to help me, Braddock.”
“Not fuckin’ likely.”
“Predictable.” The Imperator gestured to the lead Centurion to take them away. Orchid watched as Joe and Jade were led out into the hallway beyond. The Imperator, along with his retinue, took off to the entrance on the opposite end of the bridge, disappearing out the sliding door.
Having
heard more than enough, Orchid re-engaged her communications. It was time to face the music and hope her superior would be willing to hear her out.
Chapter 31
The War Renewed
The Harbinger, Caribbean Sea, October 7th
FROM THE observation deck on the exterior of the USS Harbinger’s command island, Lieutenant Brick Reynolds looked out over the flight deck. Since the attack last night, teams of marines and other Navy crewmen had worked hard, clearing up the tarmac as best they could of the smoldering remains of eight Super Hornet jet aircraft. The railgun weapons used in the attack had torn chunks out of the landing strip, rendering it virtually unusable. The engineers recommended to the Harbinger captain that a seaport would be required for further repairs. In a few minutes, the strike fleet would begin steaming toward Guantanamo Bay in Cuba—the nearest such facility.
Brick felt his eyes growing heavier. He’d gone nearly twenty hours with no sleep and it didn’t look like that would change anytime soon. The attack on the Woodrow Wilson Bridge had forced the White House to announce a state of emergency. The Joint Chiefs would be convening within the hour to meet with the President and his staff. The coordinated attacks on the Harbinger and its envoy ships, along with the attack in Virginia had sparked a massive international incident. America would undoubtedly press the UN to reassess Olympus’ status as a Private Military—to that of a terrorist organization.
In the meantime, Brick Reynolds was left to handle the Peacemaker’s potential retaliatory response.
Moving aft along the observation deck, Brick looked down at the collection of Blitzer and Fenrir aircraft, clustered on the rear tarmac of the Harbinger, like some kid’s toy collection. After the battle at Puerto Cabello, Brick’s team had returned to the carrier, along with Leo Lennox’s remaining Fenrir strike force. It had taken a monumental amount of convincing on Brick’s part to allow the Vagabonds aboard the Harbinger. The Captain had initially refused the request, but when Brick explained how it was the Vagabonds who did much of the heavy lifting in the fight against Sledge, permission was tenuously given. However, the Vagabonds’ hospitality would be limited to a mere few hours and any member venturing off the tarmac would be accompanied by a marine escort.
Brick had been quite impressed with the man named Leo Lennox. He’d spent much of the morning hearing the incredible tale woven by the Vagabond commander detailing Olympus’ true intentions for the recently reacquired Code of War disc. The ramifications of what they were planning sent Brick’s head spinning. He wouldn’t have been so quick to trust the man, had General Walsh not thrown so much faith into him. One of the last things Walsh had told Brick before he’d been captured was that Leo Lennox and his Vagabond organization could be relied on, wholeheartedly.
Considering the success they’d had in relegating Damien Sledge’s drone operation to ash, Brick was inclined to agree.
“Lieutenant Reynolds!”
He turned to see a young marine approach him.
“Sir, your presence is requested in the CDC.”
Brick nodded to the boy. The ship’s internal communications system was still on the fritz, requiring messages to be sent via smartphone or personal messenger. Brick took a final, cleansing breath of the morning sea air, simultaneously wishing the grey skies would clear. God knows when I’ll be able to enjoy something as simple as this again.
That done, he entered the bridge tower and made his way down to the CDC.
* * *
LEANING INTO Headcase’s terminal, Brick asked a very simple question to the woman on the other line.
“Orchid, can you please repeat that again?”
“I’m on a submarine, Lieutenant. A really, really big submarine.”
Clustered around the terminal were Krieger, the Vagabond woman Caedra (and her marine detail) and Leo Lennox. Brick had also asked Specialist Gator to join the discussion. The kid had proven himself a sure hand back in the jungle and with Rourke’s betrayal, Brick needed a new point man.
On a conference call from the Cottage was Doctor Cairncross, his face filling a screen next to the main terminal.
While Brick was fully prepared to give Kim Yuanza an earful for disobeying his orders, the story she was weaving was so incredible, he could only listen in rapt silence.
When Orchid had finished laying out the past few hours of events, Brick looked up at Lennox and asked, “What is this submarine she’s talking about?”
Lennox nodded, “It’s the Titan. A Poseidon-class stealth submersible aircraft carrier.”
Krieger scoffed, “That is impossible.”
“Nothing in Olympus is impossible, Mister Krieger,” Lennox said, fixing the Russian with a no-nonsense look.
The tracking device built into the Whisper suit was currently pointing to a location three-hundred kilometers south of Puerto Rico, smack dab in the middle of the Caribbean sea. It hadn’t moved significantly for over two hours. Brick was forced to accept that Orchid was telling the truth, as crazy at it sounded.
“Alright, Yuanza, fill us in,” Brick said.
“Braddock and Masters are both here, sir. This Imperator just ordered for them to be taken to some place called the Stream Core. I lost sight of them after that.”
Brick noticed Lennox tense. “What?” he asked.
“They have both discs,” Lennox replied, his eyes narrowing, “Olympus can activate the Stream Viral A.I. anytime.”
“Bloody hell,” Brick said in disbelief.
“Sir,” the voice of Doctor Cairncross got Brick’s attention, “There is something you need to know.”
“Go ahead, Doctor.”
“Before you left on this mission, I was given specific instructions to attempt to crack our Code disc. Needless to say, I wasn’t successful. However, General Walsh instructed me to instead implant a backdoor Trojan worm cluster into the readable segment of the disc I did manage to crack.”
Lennox looked stunned at the news, “How on earth did you manage to do that?”
“I’m a genius,” the Doctor said, nonchalantly.
“What effect would this…worm cluster have on the Code, Doc?” Brick asked.
“Probably nothing. It was meant to be a safeguard in case the disc was ever stolen. I don’t even know if it will work.”
Brick sighed. Their options weren’t looking too good.
Gator asked, “Well, Lieutenant, what do we do?”
Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Brick thought for a moment, “If we can’t rely on the Doctor’s worm cluster to destroy the Code, then we’ll just have to sink that bloody thing.”
Lennox raised an eyebrow. “Might I remind you, Lieutenant, that my son is onboard that ship.”
“Yeah!” Krieger piped in, “What about Joe and Jade?”
“I’m not leaving our people behind if that’s what you mean,” Brick replied. “We’ll have to get them off first.”
Lennox didn’t seem convinced. “Even if we could, the Titan is armored with chromium-laced titanium. There is nothing in your current arsenal capable of penetrating it.”
“What about from the inside?” Gator interjected.
Brick eyed the kid, “What do you mean?”
“Why don’t we hit that thing from the inside? Maybe an explosive charge on an important bit of engineering?”
Lennox thought for a moment, “Perhaps. It would have to be a large detonation in a vulnerable section of the ship’s propulsion center, located on the port side of the vessel. But that notwithstanding, there’s the small fact of even getting onboard the Titan at all.”
Krieger grimaced, “Well you were bigwig inventor within Olympus—you must know something we don’t.”
Sucking on his lower lip, Lennox worked things out in his mind. “Perhaps…” The Commander leaned forward into Headcase’s terminal and said, “Specialist Yuanza, this is Leo Lennox, commander of the Vagabonds.”
There was a moment of apprehension from the other end of the line. Brick interjected, “It’s okay,
Orchid. Lennox is helping us here.”
“Go ahead Commander Lennox,” Orchid replied.
“Can you reach Deck B-2 from where you are?”
“Yes, I was just there.”
“Good.” Lennox looked at Brick, his eyes suddenly alive with possibility, “I have an idea how we can force that ship to the surface…”
* * *
TWENTY MINUTES later, the Peacemakers were swarming across the flight deck of the Harbinger. The dozen Blitzer jets were being prepared and readied for takeoff. Along with them, the remaining Vagabond Fenrir ducted-fan aircraft were standing by to join the attack. Lennox’s plan was bold and would require the use of every aircraft capable of flying at this point.
Krieger left the bridge tower, slinging his AA-12 auto shotgun to his back. This mission would need guts galore to pull off and the big Russian was ready—ready to take the fight to Olympus and bring his friends back home.
As technicians buzzed across the flight deck, prepping the Blitzers for launch, Krieger heard a familiar voice behind him say, “So you’re heading off to commit suicide, huh?”
Turning around, he saw Curtis Walker leaning against the bridge tower. The shaggy-haired gunrunner had his arms folded nonchalantly as he eyed the Russian disapprovingly.
Krieger sneered, “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Understand? What you’re all doing is insane!”
“My friend, since I have been with this group I have learned important thing,” Krieger’s voice turned serious, “We have only each other in this fight. My friend is on that ship—a man who has saved my life time and time again. I owe it to Joe, to bring him home—or to at least try.”
“I’ve never known you as a martyr, Alexei.”
The Russian shrugged, “Then I guess you never really knew me at all, old buddy.” He looked out across the deck of the aircraft carrier. The sky had clouded over above the Caribbean Sea, blocking out the sun completely. Krieger turned back to Walker, a frivolous smile on his face, “I think this is goodbye, Walker.”