The thought hit Truck but didn’t make any sense to him. “Why would Smith get some kid to deliver the device to us, why wouldn’t he just bring it here himself?”
“Maybe he can’t, maybe …” Harrison defends him. “Maybe something happened to him.”
Before they can continue the conversation though, their prisoner sounds out from the room behind them, a muffled noise sounding like laughter. Perplexed, Truck moves over to the door, opens it and sticks his head in.
“Got something to say crap stain?” Truck moves into the room, taking the gag out of his mouth.
“I said your friend Smith is dead ja.” The Viper laughs, clearly having overheard their conversation.
“Whatever!” yells Harrison, overhearing from the other room.
“I killed that bloody kaffir myself.” The Viper sits up proudly on the chair he’s chained to with his chin pointed upwards defiantly, his grin poised like someone well pleased with their actions.
Unfortunately for the Viper this moment doesn’t last long as Truck steps back and launches a right hand straight into his chin, knocking him unconscious immediately.
“What was that all about?”
“He said Smith was dead.”
“He seemed pretty certain.”
“Well if he was, then where in the hell did this package come from?”
- -
Catlin
“Ms, Ms … It’s Number Two, over?” Catlin’s Bluetooth microphone buzzed in her ear.
Catlin, deep in conversation with Ursula from Station Eight, broke conversation and keyed her headpiece. “Please Jacob, I told you, don’t call me that.”
He lowered his voice. “But it came from Samuel, we follow orders here Ms. You call me Number Two and I call you Ms, they are our orders.”
“I know what you were told,” she exhaled. “For the sake of formality then yes, refer to me as Ms, but when it’s just between us ...” she pleaded with him. “Please just call me Cat. And I will call you Jacob instead of Number Two, understand?”
“Copy that,” came the confused reply.
“Now what did you need?”
“I’ve been following up on a lead that was flagged just before we had the incident, it was a phone intercept.”
“Yes?”
“Well we actually picked up on it and sent the information down there but never got a response for a follow up, so I thought I better follow up on it. Ma’am was always big on follow ups.”
“Right.”
“Ma’am would have wanted it that way.”
“Umm, ok,” she seemed to sense a touch of irritation in his voice. “What was the phone intercept about?”
“Our system picked up on a key word. The word was ‘Suni’.”
Catlin was a little confused as to what this meant, for she had no knowledge of its meaning. “Send the message down for me please.”
“I have, please see Station Four Ms.”
Catlin tried to ignore the Ms as she walked over to Station Four, “Umm, I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“Station Four Ms, I have the message ready for you, would you like me to play it?’
She irked at the seemingly robotic nature of the attendant, “Yes please.”
A scratchy female voice sounded, Suni can you hear me, another female replied, Go ahead AB. Catlin listened to the conversation as it continued for another minute and then the recording ceased when someone was mentioned something about the Smith.
“Well what was that all about?” she asked Jacob through her headset.
“Ms, Suni was the name of an old operator who fled from this facility many years ago. Rumour has it she and Ma’am had a disagreement about something and Suni escaped the installation soon after.”
“Disagreement about what?”
“Ms, I am unsure. Perhaps ask another person downstairs, that’s where she worked.”
“Right. So, have we been looking for her?”
“Yes, we have national alert level one on her and her team, have for about eight years.”
“Alert level one?”
“High priority target miss.”
“And you mentioned she has a team?”
“Yes Ms, after escaping our facility she then recruited a small team and started looking for her own device and source point, trying to emulate what we have here. Ma’am has had us trying to track them for years, and we had our fair share of run ins, but we’ve never actually captured one of them, the government though …”
“What?” she fretted at the mention of government, remembering Samuel’s words clearly on the subject.
“Not so long ago they stumbled upon a hacker going by the alias Han Solo, he hacked our servers up here. They caught him and detained him for his actions.”
“Is that common?”
“No, he’s the only one to have hacked us.”
“What? Ever?”
“Yes Ms.”
“Wow, this kid sounds like a genius.”
“No Ms, they seek to only to expose us.”
“What do you mean?”
“This kid, he’s like a conspiracy theorist. His past is chequered with instances where he’s hacked secreted information and leaked it to the public.”
“And he’s just a kid?”
“I don’t know how old he is.”
“Ok, have we ever tried to talk to this kid before, or his team?”
“You would have to ask Ma’am, but I don’t think we’ve ever been able to catch him anyway.”
“Right, well that’s great. We have this supposed super-system that can track anything, except for the people we want. So we have an intercepted phone call, what else do you have?”
“I would suggest you speak with Ops Ms, they have more recent information.”
“Of what?”
“I believe Ma’am was trying to eliminate them as a threat, for quite some time. Ma’am was afraid that if Suni happened to get a hold of the same technology that we had …” he was cut short.
“What?” Cat asked.
“They could use it to destroy us, or worse.”
“Worse as in what just happened a couple of days ago.”
“I guess.”
“So, these people could be responsible for this event happening then?”
“I guess so.”
“Do you think they caused it?”
“I’m no expert, best to talk to Station Eight Ms.”
“And what was that at the end about some guy called Smith?”
“I have no idea, Ms.”
“She said the Smith is back?”
“I cannot answer that question Ms.”
Catlin paused a moment to consider the situation and her options. Ma’am hadn’t warned her about the group upon their first meeting and Samuel hadn’t mentioned them either, which she found quite strange. Clearly they were an important equation in the matter, but maybe Samuel didn’t know about it.
Samuel had impressed upon her the importance of finding who was responsible and bringing them to justice, could this group have been responsible for the catastrophe?
“Right,” she took a mental note and changed tack. “So, this phone call, we have a location of where these people are now?”
“From the call yes.”
“She said they’d made contact on their phone call, what did that mean?”
“Recently we got wind of intelligence of another device popping onto the radar. The instant we knew of its whereabouts the Ops team were sent in to retrieve it, I haven’t heard anything since then Ms.”
Catlin remembered the big chested South African man and his encounter with his fellow comrade and realised why they must’ve been arguing. The man had come back empty handed, without this device. So clearly this other group wer
e a threat, they must’ve had the other device.
She also remembered the ensuing altercation between the Viper and Ma’am and how she’d sent him back out in search of it. Either the Viper had dropped it or the other group had acquired it, making it possible that they were responsible. Because if the Viper didn’t have it then surely the other people did.
“So my theory is …” Catlin mused through the microphone. “That this Suni or someone in her team must have taken this device instead of the Viper. Now if they wanted the device, then it’s most likely that they wanted it so that they could use it, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, that means they must have something to connect it to, right?”
“I can only assume, Ms, that by the mention of the word ‘contact’ in the conversation, the person was referring to a potential thread point …” he paused a moment, “… the thread point that you connect the device to.”
Cat knew exactly what he was saying, she remembered the thread room and device. “You said we had the location of that call?”
“Yes, Ms.”
Catlin turned around where she stood and looked for the man who oversaw Ops, “Mr Okko? Has anyone seen Mr Okko?”
Ursula, seeing this unfolding called out to assist. “He’s down in the staff quarters, best you call him on your mic.”
“Huh?”
“Call him, Station Three on your Bluetooth headset thing.”
Catlin complied, flicking a switch and calling into her mic hesitantly, “Station Three?”
“Yep.”
“Mr Okko?”
A momentary pause before, “Yes Ma’am?”
“It’s actually Ms now.”
“Ms?”
“Yes Ms.
“Ok Ms.”
“Yeah, anyway, Mr Okko, do you know if we’ve had contact from the Viper?”
“We haven’t had contact for days,” came the response.
“Ahh, is that normal?”
“Nope.”
“So, what do we do? How do we find him?”
“Sorry Ms, my guys normally check in but that one …”
“What?”
“He’s not really one of my men, he runs solo. I got no control over him.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Viper, he doesn’t like to play by the rules, anyone’s rules. And I have no control over him, so who knows where he is.”
“Aren’t you the Ops commander?”
Okko laughed. “Aye, but the only one who can control that one is the Ma’am of the house.”
“Great,” she cursed under her breath. “So how do I find him?”
“I dunno Ms, maybe try your thread thing.”
“Thanks Mr Okko,” Catlin said, walking over to Station Eight where Ursula was busy reconnecting wires and replacing part of the console. It’d been the worst hit part of the facility it seemed.
“Mr Okko, do you know who the Smith is?” she asked a final question of him.
“Nope.”
“Ok, thanks.”
“Anytime.”
“Hi, ah, question for you?” Catlin asked Ursula nervously, who’s head was buried in a computer.
“Shoot.” Ursula replied, head still hidden in a mess of wires.
“I was wondering if I could use the thread to search for the Viper?”
“Hmmm, small problem. The thread system has been down since we had the event. Most of the wires here are burst out as you can see and the fire damaged the mainframe.”
“Okay, so … are we trying to fix that?” she asked, tentatively.
“I’ve been trying to figure it out but I just don’t have the same kind of knowledge as ...” she didn’t finish the sentence.
“Yes ... what?” Catlin soothed, assuring her it was ok to speak.
“Ah …” she seemed hesitant to say it. ”Marion Ms, she would know what to do.”
“What? Where is she?” Catlin asked, looking around surprised and a little embarrassed that she hadn’t noticed her absence.
“She’s in detention Ms. Remember?”
“Oh bugger me.” she blurted out, suddenly realising that she’d been so wrapped up in her new role she forgot to inquire about the woman.
“What the …” she tried to curb her language, “… is she doing back in there?”
“Well, after we were allowed to come back down and get back to work the security guys just took her back and locked her up again.”
“Why didn’t you say something then?”
“I’m sorry, Ms.”
“Oh don’t call me that, please.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why was she put in there in the first place?”
“Umm, Ms, she was put into detention for failing to carry out a direct order… from Ma’am.”
“What order?”
“She was ordered to terminate a life using the thread. Marion refused and she was put into detention as a result.”
Cat looked confused, “What?”
“Yeah.” Ursula rolled her eyes.
“You can do that?”
“Ms, with the Destiny system you have the power to give or to take life. During a mission Ma’am instructed Marion to take the life of a person, except Marion refused, Ma’am sent her away for not doing as she was told.”
“Well … why would Ma’am want to kill someone? Who was she trying to kill?” The notion seemed odd to Catlin. And then she remembered her photographs and the realisation suddenly dawned on her, the reason it had caused such a mess.
Someone had been playing with the threads, and the herdsman she captured on film had died because of it. Someone must have stolen his energy, a totally plausible reason for the government thereafter to capture her and the evidence proving Destiny was playing god.
“Why would Ma’am want to kill someone?”
Ursula shifted where she sat nervously, looking incredibly uncomfortable with the question.
“Ursula, please … I’m not her, please answer my question. It’s ok, seriously I’m not the crazy woman she was.”
Ursula exhaled deeply. “Peter Friendly Ms, Marion was ordered to terminate Peter Friendly.”
Catlin was shocked, she hadn’t expected his name to come suddenly out of the blue. She stood there perplexed, unsure of what to do next. Why in the hell would Ma’am want to kill Peter?
“I think I need to take this to Samuel.” Catlin said, leaving the uncomfortable figure of Ursula sitting there as she walked off in a hurry.
“Wait, Ms …” Ursula tried to call after her, but Catlin was determined and needed answers, she stormed off ignoring Ursula’s pleas to stop.
She knew Samuel had said he didn’t want to be disturbed except for their midday meeting but this was too much for her. Why were they allowed to kill people here, let alone someone she knew. She still remembered the police escort she was in, and how everyone had dropped dead, was this place truly capable of such things?
Catlin raced up the stairs and crossed the mezzanine to his door, tapping softly on Samuel’s door as she got there.
No answer, she tapped again this time a lot louder. She waited for a minute and still nothing was happening. She moved closer to the door, leant in and put her ear close to the door to try and hear anything. She thought she could hear something that sounded like voices, but it wasn’t entirely discernible, so she decided to knock again.
Silence
Heck! She thought to herself. This time she tried the door handle but found it locked. What the hell Samuel? Pondering what to do next, she decided she would try to force the lock and open the door. Without thinking she retrieved a paper clip, a small pen knife and returned to the door.
She’d done this before, so took no time inserting the paperclip, twisting it and jammin
g in the knife. She paused and then flicked the lock, opening the door to a large office with two surprised looking men in conversation. They both turned, startled by the intrusion and looked in surprise at the figure of Catlin standing in the doorway, knife in hand and an awkward smile on her face.
“Ah ... Sir, I mean … Samuel, I have a situation I need your help with.” She said with her head bowed in embarrassment for her intrusion, knife still in hand.
Samuel looked at her rather impatiently, standing up, “Ms Conley, as we’ve told you, we speak once a day, at midday every day. That’s the time we’ve allocated to spend with you, the rest of that time we are indisposed of and would appreciate no interruptions.”
Cat felt awkward now, like a kid being told off by a teacher.
“Now, if you have issues then we suggest you tend to them.” He emphasised the word you. “There is a reason why we put an in-experienced, untrained person at the helm.”
“But, sir…”
“Believe us when we say this Ms Conley. We have trust in you, you can take care of it, ok … now be off with you.” He shooed her with his hands.
She took a moment while he was speaking to steal a look at the man who was sitting on Samuel’s couch. He was of Arabic descent with dark eyes, tanned skin and dark hair. He was tall and lean, his hair cropped short and he also sported a long goatee from his chin.
But what was most strange was the size of his head. It didn’t appear the same size as a normal person, it looked far more elongated than normal. She found it quite strange to look at and inadvertently found herself staring at him.
He ignored her as she first entered the room but he must’ve felt her eyes observing him, because he turned and looked directly at her with a stare she would never forget. His upper lip started to curl upwards as if he had smelt something bad and his head tilted backwards so that he was literally looking down his nose at her.
But it was his eyes that made her step back, looking at them was like sending a dart of fear straight into her heart. Her heart leapt instantly and inside her head she felt a smack, almost like he’d gotten into her head somehow and cracked a whip. She turned away from him fearfully, unable to hold his gaze.
Fear. Fear took over inside her, something she hadn’t felt for quite a while and she had no idea how he’d done it.
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