Infiltrator

by Bob Blink

  Mark received a brief message from Fred.

  He made a call. I now have his cell number and will be able to track him and any calls he makes, even if they lack the special preamble we are looking for.

  Mark relayed the news to the others.

  "Bring in Glen and Steph," Garcia ordered, as Jessie continued down the block. The car they had positioned in a parking spot along the street pulled out just seconds before the vehicle being driven by Glen pulled in to the miraculously available space. Jessie waived as if she'd been expecting them, and hurried over to greet the pair as they stepped out. The women hugged, and Jessie pointed toward the restaurant that was their supposed destination.

  Fred reported further action.

  Another call by Johnson, but nothing that will help us. We have to wait.

  The threesome had covered most of the block and had passed the parking lot. They were at the restaurant, and had no choice but to step inside. It was starting to look like this ruse wasn't going to work as hoped when Mark relayed what he'd just received from Fred.

  "That did it. Johnson made another call, and now we have the strange source from before broadcasting. Fred believes he has enough data to pin down the source. We are free to take action against Johnson. "

  It was almost too late. Johnson was three quarters of the way down the sidewalk in front of the parking lot where the team waited.

  "Green light," Garcia announced over the net, causing the teams that had been standing by and hoping to spring into action.

  Johnson was focused on the restaurant and his phone, and didn't sense the men that were suddenly materializing behind and off to one side. His first indication of trouble was the sharp bite of the dart as it struck his neck. That was the last thing he recalled, as only a second later the bean-bag slammed into the side of his head, rendering him immediately unconscious.

  "Well done," Garcia complimented his men.

  "Too easy," one of the take-down team said.

  "Let's get him loaded up and out of here before those he summoned arrive. Those on trailing detail, stand by. We don't know who or how many might be arriving. Jessie, you and the others should clear out as well."

  Back at the Pentagon, Mark got another message from Fred.

  I got it. The software I wrote worked perfectly. It's not a transmission tower, but a source inside the Capitol Power Plant.

  Mark had never heard of the place, wondered what that was and where it was located.

  Chapter 46

  "Okay, the Capitol Power Plant is a fossil-fueled power facility that provides steam and chilled water for the Capitol, the Supreme Court, The Library of Congress, and a number of other buildings in the Capitol Complex." Steph said when they had reassembled back in the basement of the Pentagon. "It has been serving the Capitol since 1910."

  "Not power?" Ed asked. "I thought you said it was a power plant?"

  "Power to the Capitol is all provided by Pepco, the local electrical utility," She replied. The facility still produces power for its own use, but hasn't been doing so for the Capitol complex since 1952."

  "I never knew the place even existed," Glen noted. "Where is it located?"

  "Close to the Library of Congress. Just a few blocks south at 25 E St SE."

  "How can one live in a place like Washington and not see something like that?" Major Garcia asked.

  "It's easy to miss something you aren't looking for," Jessie suggested. "It has two large, tall venting stacks, and is quite a large facility. Once you recognize it for what it is, it's pretty hard to miss."

  "And the telephone signals that triggered the additional clones that arrived late at the scene where we got Johnson came from that facility?" Colonel Jones asked.

  "That's what Fred claims," Mark agreed. "He has checked his data and program several times. Somewhere in that facility someone, or something is triggering the attacks."

  "It's going to be difficult, to say the least, to find the hardware responsible in a place like that," Hayes, their engineering specialist pointed out. "Even if we had full authority to question and search, and easy access, I see that as a multi-week job."

  "I also can't see how we locate any clones who must be there," Garcia added. "I don't know how many people work there, but it has to be quite a number, and we can't simply go in and demand that everyone get one of our MRIs. Officially, we don't exist, and have no authority to direct people to do anything."

  "All we need to do is verify that this is where the aliens are hiding out," Jessie said. "That has to be our focus."

  "If they are there, they have managed to function while not alerting those who work at the facility to their presence," Steph pointed out. "I can't see everyone in the facility having been cloned. That would conflict with our belief and the evidence they are limited on how many clones they have at their disposal."

  "They have more than we thought," Ed pointed out. "The six that showed up to support Johnson were all different individuals than we've seen before. None were copies of your original group of eight."

  "Makes sense," Jessie concluded. "They didn't want to tip off any of us what they were. We've recognized their copies right off in past encounters. They are getting smarter."

  "We didn't take any into custody," Garcia said. "We have photos of all of them, and via some of the various intelligence agency databases we know their identities and addresses. All are being tailed in hopes they might reveal the existence of more and possibly even locations of interest."

  "I'd like to know if these are recent additions to their clone base, or individuals that have been around a while and were being kept secret from us," Colonel Jones asked.

  "Maybe our captive Johnson clone can provide some answers," Jessie suggested. It'll also be interesting if they come up with a replacement for him."

  "He should be about ready for questioning," Garcia said. "I have a team setting things up. Dr. Thompson is there with them."

  Bud Johnson, or whatever generation clone they had captured, was strapped into a chair on a lab room in a far corner of their little domain. Upon capture he'd been separated from his phone and anything else, including one of the new alien blasters to ensure no triggering signals could be sent to him. Dr. Thompson had wanted to insert one of the numbing clamps on the node they'd verified was present, but that was an experimental technique and they didn't want to risk their prisoner in any way until they'd completed questioning.

  He looked like he'd been in a fight, despite some preliminary cleaning up. The white of his right eye was red with blood, the result of the bean-bag impacting the head nearby. There were still traces of blood in the ear from the impact as well. Despite the trauma the impact had to have caused, the doctor had pronounced him sound enough to be questioned. Johnson's reaction when Jessie and the others stepped into the room verified his assessment.

  "Well, the terrorists themselves," Johnson said, staring at Jessie, who he knew best.

  "Terrorists?" Mark asked, causing Johnson's gaze to shift toward him.

  "We know what you've been up to, and don't think capturing me will change anything. My organization will continue to hunt you down, no matter what you do to me."

  "You mean your alien friends, don't you?" Glen said.

  Johnson looked confused.

  "Aliens? What are you talking about?"

  "You know perfectly well what he means," Jessie said.

  She held up the alien blaster that they'd taken from him.

  "Where else did you get this?"

  "Impressive device, what? Keyed to me. You won't be able to use it. Our research division came up with that recently."

  "Our scientists can't identify the materials used, or the technology," Hayes said. "I doubt your "engineers" have made that kind of advancement. This is an alien device, and proves you are somehow working for them."

  Johnson laughed.

  "You people are crazier than I thought. I have been working undercover to find your cell. Clearly it is larger and better equipp
ed than we thought."

  "He doesn't know," Steph said. "He's been programmed just as we were to believe certain things. Our hopes he might be aware of the aliens were wrong. I don't think he's going to be of much help."

  "Doctor?" Garcia asked.

  "He's been telling the truth, or what he obviously believes to be the truth," Dr. Thompson explained. They had connected Thompson to a number of monitoring devices that could measure his key parameters during the questioning. Garcia had several professionals he could call on for questioning, but it was starting to appear that wouldn't be any more effective.

  "Tell me about your friends," Mark asked, "the ones you called on to come help you grab Jessie."

  Johnson glanced at Mark.

  "I didn't call anyone," he said.

  Dr. Thompson shook his head. "Now he's lying."

  Garcia handed Mark a packet of pictures that Mark then showed to Johnson.

  "Do you know any of these people?"

  Every time Mark showed Johnson a picture, he shook his head. When Mark had finished, he glanced at the doctor.

  "Interesting result," Dr. Thompson said. "Four of the six we appear to have a truthful answer. Two of them it appears he is lying. The particular group sent to assist him may have been largely unknown to him."

  "Show him the power plant picture," Steph urged.

  "He's aware of it," Dr. Thompson said, despite Johnson's denial.

  "Time for the truth juice," Garcia said, signaling the doctor. They'd wanted to see what they could get from Thompson before shooting him up with any drugs since they couldn't know what the nodes might do as a result, but it was clear they weren't going to get much from him any other way.

  The narcotic, something that Garcia was able to get from military stores and refused to identify, was more effective, and happily didn't trigger any obvious reaction from Johnson's node. He gave up the names of the two clones he knew, which matched what they'd been able to dig out of the databases. Even under the influence of the drug he couldn't identify the others. Most of his story about being an undercover operative remained unchanged. Clearly he'd been programmed to believe that.

  He was staying at the Power Plant in his undercover "role" along with several other agents, all copies of Jessie and her friends. It was unclear why he didn't see the obvious discrepancy that his fellow agents looked like those he sought, but he'd obviously been commanded to overlook this detail. They'd each been forced to ignore inconvenient facts themselves. There was an older gentleman, the Maintenance Supervisor, who had an overnight room at the plant who the clones stayed with. Mark assumed the man was a clone as well. Johnson claimed they were housed where they were because the Capitol area was being targeted by Jessie's terrorist group. From the repeated questioning, it appeared that no one else at the facility was aware of the clones presence or was likely to be an alien clone.

  "Take him to one of the holding cells and keep him under sedation," Garcia ordered when they decided they had as much information as they were likely to get.

  "He either hasn't seen any aliens or has been instructed to ignore what he's seen," Steph said.

  "We need to see for ourselves," Mark replied. "Someone has to be directing these people."

  "So, how are we going to do this?" Colonel Jones asked.

  "It has to be a night job," Major Garcia replied. "Any open, daytime approach is going to be checked, and since we aren't official, our secret would be revealed. There is only a small crew in place at night, which we should be able to avoid. In the worst case, if we are discovered, we can put those we encounter to sleep, and they won't know who we were."

  "Best if no one knows we were there," Mark noted.

  "That will be the planned approach," Garcia agreed.

  "What about this Maintenance Supervisor and his band of clones?" Steph asked.

  "We avoid them as well, beyond checking to see if there are any aliens lurking among them," Garcia directed. "We don't need any more clones, and disturbing them will reveal to the aliens that we are aware of the facility and that they are using it. Even the Johnson clone didn't know anything about aliens, so I have to believe these people believe as he did that they are operating on some kind of clandestine mission."

  "Who goes?" Colonel Jones asked.

  "Small team inside, with a larger support group on hand outside," Garcia replied. "The alarms and locks won't pose much of a problem. The facility is old, and honestly, who cares about a plant that produces steam and water? It isn't set up to do more than keep out vagrants and vandals. Myself and six of my best men, Ed, Janet and Jessie, and our Chief Engineer. That should be enough for an initial look around."

  "I'm coming as well," Steph said unexpectedly.

  "Why?" Garcia asked. "This isn't your kind of thing."

  "I'm the most knowledgeable communications engineer we have. The link into the system is something I'm more likely to recognize than anyone else you have. I think I have to go."

  "If Steph goes, I go," Glen said.

  "I'm coming along as well," Mark added.

  "Too many," Garcia said. "This is supposed to be a covert intrusion, not an assault."

  "So leave a couple of your people behind," Mark said.

  "Why do you need to go?" the Colonel asked. "Wouldn't it be better if you remain behind to coordinate with your NSA friend? It would be good to know if we trigger any activity."

  "It would be out of character for Fred to be at NSA at night," Mark replied. "With Carol a suspected clone, I'm not sure he's going to want to take that risk. Besides, I think you need all of us at the plant. I'll talk to Fred, and if he agrees, Burrows can be the interface to him."

  "You need to go because?" Garcia asked.

  "As Steph points out, she is the most qualified person we have to spot the gear that might have triggered the messages. Jessie, Glen and I will be there to fulfill a different function. We have three of the alien weapons that are functional. Only the four of us can trigger them. My assumption is that creatures who develop weapons, develop something that affects themselves. We have no information about the creatures we might be facing, and nothing that says our guns will be effective. I think it a practical precaution to go armed with their own devices, just in case."

  "A reasonable point," the Colonel conceded. "What do you think, Chuck?"

  "We still don't know if these things can detect our four friends here. If they are going, then they either need to let Dr. Thompson numb that part of their brains, or we need this Fred character monitoring so we have advance notice we've triggered something."

  "I'll get Fred," Mark said. He wasn't about to be a lab experiment for the doctor. He didn't like the thought of having his brain messed with, and he intended to be present when these aliens or whatever they were up against were discovered.

  "Okay," the Colonel agreed. "Get this organized. I want it to happen tonight before our enemy has a chance to fully react to our taking down Johnson."

  As Garcia had surmised, the locks and alarms were easily defeated by the trained experts he'd made part of the assault team. It was just past midnight when the group slipped through the rear support doors into the lower levels of the facility. Garcia's small band of experts moved ahead of the group, scouting for any watchmen or workers who might be moving about at this late hour.

  There was no strict plan. Despite Steph's inclusion on the team, Garcia had little expectation of their discovering the telephone equipment that had to be hidden away somewhere in this facility. Already he could see racks of electronics, any of which could easily house the kind of gear Stephanie had described to him a few hours earlier. The hope was to sweep the facility, and hopefully find some evidence of alien presence, if not the aliens themselves. Major Garcia wasn't certain what happened if they encountered the aliens themselves, but even if they were overwhelmed, their efforts were being broadcast back to the Pentagon. Aliens, or clear proof of their presence was all that they needed to bring this thing out into the open. Then the battle cou
ld be approached properly, not just by their small band.

  It was a bit eerie moving through the massive chambers filled with oversized equipment, some of it idle, but a surprising amount dutifully going about whatever task it was designed to do. They'd been moving through the facility for almost two hours, having explored most of it to no avail when they heard the cursing up ahead. The Major sent a pair of men to investigate.

  "Some guy with a whole array of test gear doing something," the Sergeant reported when they returned. "I don't think its usual for him to be here at this hour. He seems really frustrated by something."

  "I want to talk with him," Steph said unexpectedly.

  "We're trying to remain low profile and get out of here without alerting the workers here to our presence," Major Garcia reminded her.

  But Steph wasn't to be dissuaded.

  "We're almost finished going through this place, and we've found nothing," she pointed out. "Mark's friend said this is the place where the signals originated, but we can't locate them. That engineer is frustrated by something, and it might just have to do with what happened today. We have the IDs that you gave us to handle such situations."

  Steph was referring to the Homeland Security Badges and IDs that all of them were carrying. If confronted, they were to pretend they were on an official search, and flash the badges. It should get them away okay, and with luck might even prevent those they encountered from mentioning their presence.

  "Those were planned for situations outside our control, and were not really intended to be used," Garcia pointed out.

  "You'd rather wander around in the dark the rest of the night," she countered. "Take most of the group and continue the search. Glen and I, and say Mark, can approach this guy. We're in contact via our communication net, so we can let you know if this gets out of hand."

  The Major was about to overrule her request, when Jessie broke in and supported her.

  "That guy is up to something in the dead of the night. I think Steph is right. He's here all the time, and would have a better chance of sensing something out of normal than we will."