26.
They weren’t supposed to risk being seen on public transit until the operation was over, but Alixs had to chance it. Stealth was no longer the main priority, not if the raid on the archives was any indication. They’d already been found out. If Alixs didn’t get there fast, his friends stood little chance of making it out of the broadcast tower.
Come on, move! he urged his slow moving ride. It was one of those leisurely, local types, but unfortunately that was the only available option at this hour. Glancing around to see if he was being watched, he saw several others in the car with him, but none paying any attention. At least not as far as he could tell, though his paranoia insisted that he was being watched this very moment. He confirmed the suspicion with a glance at the ceiling. A tiny camera, trained right on him. Realizing how stupid he was to stare straight up at it, he dropped his head and looked to the floor. That made him feel even more stupid, and he gave up trying to hide himself. No use keeping his image off the grid. The peace force knew who they all were anyway — they were just waiting to catch them in the act.
THE TEAM HAD REACHED the halfway point of the shaft when Jem raised a fist, calling for a halt. There was some confusion as they jerked to a halt, one after the other, none of them expecting any delay until they reached the top.
“What is it?” someone whispered from below.
“Shh!” Jem shot back, holding up his fist again, then moving it over his mouth to shut them up more directly. Listening intently, he waited a full minute before allowing them to proceed. It was something in the walls, around the same level they were at. He could swear he heard something, like boots. But this was no military installation, it was a radio station. The noise didn’t make sense. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap, and he almost waved them back down again. Getting paranoid in your old age, he told himself, and he motioned for his team to continue upward.
Reaching the landing, he peeked out first and had a look around, down each side of the corridor and through any doorways within eyeshot. It was deserted. He felt a wave of relief. His paranoia had been unfounded. They had a clear shot at the booth from here. The mission was almost over.
ALIXS LEAPT FROM THE train and sprinted for the nearest exit. As he ran down the street, he grabbed for his phone and called the control team. The watch picked up immediately, and Alixs identified himself and asked for the status of the infiltrators.
“We lost contact,” the watch said, his voice shaking. He sounded panicked.
“What do you mean?” Alixs shouted.
“Communications went down a few minutes ago.”
“The radios are out?”
“Radios. Phones. All of it.”
Damn. Was he too late already? “Why’d they go in without me?”
“We figured you copped out,” the watch told him. “The plan said go unless we were three short. You were the only one who didn’t show.”
“Listen,” Alixs yelled, trying to push himself faster even as he attempted to solve the problem before he got there, “you have to reach them! You have to tell them to abort!”
“Give me your loca—” The line went dead. Completely dead. No signal, no tone. Alixs stopped short, staring at the phone for a minute. He tried to re-dial twice. No response. Silence from the other end.
He was still a couple of minutes away, but if he could get within earshot he could call out for them to hold. Just get there. He ran again, faster this time.
EVEN IF ALIXS ATTEMPTED to call Jem, it wouldn’t have mattered. Jem had tried phoning in as soon as they lost radio contact, but they’d been deep underground, and he had no signal. So he shut off the phone and buried it deep in his pocket. If he hadn’t done that, he might have noticed they still had no signal, none at all, even though there were far above ground now and easily within range. The reason for the discrepancy was a jamming device, set up in a storage room beside the main broadcast booth, awash with peace forcer detectives.
The detectives monitored the infiltrator's movements, and made sure they had no way of communicating with each other. But they weren’t ready to make the arrests yet. At present, the worst offense they could hit them with was trespassing. Even breaking and entering wouldn’t stick, not in a public building like this one where tour groups shuffled through on a daily basis. The chief sat in the room, staying out of the way, taking in the activities with a practiced eye. He could tell his detectives wanted to move in now. That they could taste it. But patience was needed here. They had to wait for the xenos to attempt their subterfuge, then they could nail them. Hijacking of public frequencies, conspiracy to induce panic, conspiracy to incite insurrection. They’d never see the light of day. Just give it a few more minutes. Wait.
The heat signatures were plain, the insurgents lined up and down the shaft, like so many range targets. One of his officers began repositioning himself so that he was closer to the door, ready to pounce. Too eager, the chief thought, and he calmly got up and directed the agent to move back. He didn’t need trigger happy soldiers here, just professionals. The last thing he wanted was to hand these malcontents a legitimate legal defense. Almost time.
THE INFILTRATION TEAM helped each other out of the shaft, careful to stay low and quiet. Jem lifted his limb to bring down the signal when a clang from below echoed up the shaft and stopped them cold. They waited, listening intently, but it didn’t come again. The emergency signal had been a last-ditch order on Jem’s part for their lookout below. For emergencies, hit the pipes twice. Once meant halt and send someone back down for instructions. This was once. Definitely once. Jem motioned for the xeno nearest the shaft to go down, and they waited.
FAR BELOW, ALIXS WAS whisper-yelling at the lookout. “What do you mean, you can’t abort? They’re walking into a trap up there!”
“You don’t know that,” the lookout whispered back, “just cause the radio went out and some vandals wrecked—”
“It wasn’t vandals. It was the peacers.”
“You don’t know that.”
Realizing this was getting him nowhere, Alixs gave up and started up the shaft himself.
“Wait, you can’t!”
But the lookout was too late. Alixs was already out of reach, and chasing after him would mean abandoning his post. This whole operation had already gone south, he wasn’t going to be the one to make it worse. Let them deal with it when he got there. Jem would know what to do.
Halfway up, Alixs reached the team member on his way down, almost getting kicked in his haste.
“Hold up! Go back,” Alixs called, trying to keep his voice from carrying though the echo. The building wasn’t empty. Surely someone would hear them if they kept it up.
Thankfully, the freevo on his way down wasn’t in the mood to argue. With a shrug, he started back up again, Alixs trailing close behind. When they got to the top, the entire team had surrounded the opening. One by one, the pair was hauled out, and Alixs was face to face with a very angry looking Jem.
“What the hell?”
“Jem,” Alixs panted, “they’re on to us. You’ve got to turn back!”
27.
The leadership council dinner was a gala affair, held in the ballroom of the Hyatt Regency Tera-Prime. Black-tie all the way, it was one of the few chances for the first administrator to shine as leader of a world class city. For the most part, his role in such proceedings elsewhere was minor, at best. He served as ‘that curiosity from Tera-Prime’ that everyone wanted to chat with — but only for the moment or two it took them to realize that he was hardly any different at all. After that, he would take his place at one of the tables near the back, with the other minor dignitaries, and wait the evening out. If he was lucky, he’d receive an honorable mention from the podium, and he would stand up and take a small bow that few turned to notice.
But here, in his own realm, with his own coordinators and event planners, he was king. He found that he enjoyed it much more than he ever thought he would. Rank did ha
ve privileges, and being the center of attention at such an extravagant event was one of them. He enjoyed the excitement and the conversation, familiar faces and well known officials thanking him for the invitation, telling him how impressive his city was, and how wonderful the hospitality had been.
When his aid came charging across the dance floor, improperly attired and waving a briefcase, dangerously close to the partygoers, the first administrator felt embarrassed enough to look away. His assistant looked as harried as he did bureaucratic, and in the context of this event, both images made the administration look stupid. The first administrator would have liked nothing better than to fire him on the spot. But people were watching, and he had to maintain appearances.
“Administrator Rois! I’m sorry sir. I’ve just received a briefing and you need to hear it.”
“Are you telling me,” the administrator began in a dangerously low voice, “that this couldn’t have waited a half-hour?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” pled the assistant, taking a breath, “no, sir. It can’t wait.”
The first administrator sighed, offering apologetic gestures around the room as he motioned for his aid to step out. Rois followed close behind.
They moved to an empty cloak room, and the administrator growled, “this had better be vital, or so help me—”
“It is, sir. Believe me.” The assistant flipped up the briefcase and fumbled to unlock it, taking far too much time. Rois finally reached up to help him steady the thing, and he managed to pop it. Then he removed a securesystems brand lock-pad, almost dropping it in his haste. Punching in the access code, he handed it over. Rois’ expression softened, from pure annoyance to interested concern, as he read through the document. Handing it back, he began walking in the direction of his limousine.
“Back to the office, I take it?”
The first administrator nodded. “I’ll need to speak with Chief Cain as soon as we get there. You can set it up from the car.”
“Yes, sir.”
The party was in full swing behind them, and the administrator felt a twinge of regret for having to leave it behind so suddenly, but it couldn’t be helped.
BY THE TIME THEY GOT back to the first administrator’s office, Cain was already there, in a manner of speaking. The first administrator had expected to speak with him in person, but apparently the situation was even more volatile than he’d first imagined.
“I take it you got what you needed out of the archives?” The first administrator removed his jacket and loosened the bow tie, then took his position behind the executive desk.
“The raid was a success,” the chief said, “but now we’ve got a bigger decision on our hands.”
“I know. I read the brief.”
“So you know they’re planning to spread that propaganda far and wide.”
“I do.”
“We can stop them,” continued the chief, “but it’ll require some unorthodox methods, and I need your endorsement—”
“You’ll have it. I want them stopped.”
“Okay. Just so long as you know, this could get ugly.”
“Do what you have to do, chief. You have my full support.”
28.
Backed into the corner near the escape shaft, the team hunched down and waited. Jem and Alixs went back and forth with heated whispers. The team could catch only bits and pieces, but it was obvious something had gone wrong. The new recruit was adamant about the need to abort. Jem sounded unconvinced, although he’d calmed down a little since the conversation began.
“How do you know you weren’t followed?” Jem demanded, keeping his voice as low as he could.
“I was careful,” Alixs shot back. “And besides, they were gone before I got there. The archives were deserted.”
“You think they were,” Jem said. “Maybe that’s what they wanted you to think.”
“Anything’s possible, but I’m telling you, they ripped the place apart, and I’m sure they got what they wanted. Why would they hang around?”
“Maybe to bait a trap. Catch one of us skulking around there.”
“I’m telling you, they’ve already set the trap, and we’re walking right into it!”
Jem sat back. Alixs made sense. And even though he didn’t fully trust him, he had willingly given them all the information his mind could store. Besides that, Liam trusted him, and if what he said about the archives was true...
“You saw no sign of the Ahmis anywhere?”
“Not a hint. I think they got him.”
Jem looked away. Alixs knew their chances were slipping away, and what that meant to Jem. To all of them.
“We’ve got to go,” Alixs said, soft but insistent. “I’ll wait with the others.” He got up and left his leader alone.
Jem stared off into space for a long minute or so, then he was on his feet and waving at the shaft. “Down! Back down! We’re leaving.”
He’d just about reached the rest of his team when the first shots were launched, sending Jem arching backwards before falling facedown in front of them.
INSIDE THE STORAGE room command center, the chief was on his feet as soon as the shots sizzled out.
“Hold your fire, damn it!” he bellowed. The voice contained enough gravitas to cause several of his men to stop in mid-stride, just as they were about to charge out the door.
The command was repeated down the line, and almost at once the noise level dropped to near zero, with only the echo to remind them of what’d just happened.
“Get them back in here!”
The special tactics unit regrouped and backed up into the command center. A few minutes passed before the chief called for a status update, which the shooter came forward to provide.
“They were trying to escape.” A bold excuse, but then the officer withered under the stare of his chief. Dismissing him with a wave, the chief motioned for one of the others to step up.
“What prompted the shots to be launched?” he said, slow and calm, to the one who’d been immediately to the right of the shooter.
“They moved suddenly, sir, and there was a lot of confusion.” Then, realizing the chief wanted more, he added, “We panicked.”
“That’s right. You did.” The chief looked up to the rest of his team and raised his voice slightly. “Now, we’re going after them, and we’re going to do it by the book. Got it?”
Shouts of ‘Yes, sir!’ and ‘Got it!’ sounded out around the room, and with his tacit permission, they filed out, less twitchy than before, and with more resolve. They wouldn’t disappoint their boss again.
THE FREEVOS WERE ALREADY partway down the shaft when one of them shouted ‘the disc!’. Alixs realized that Jem had been the one carrying it. He turned his gaze upward, knowing he was the only one in position to go back after it. He started back up. “It’s too dangerous!” said the freevo immediately behind him, but he ignored it. They couldn’t leave it behind. It was too important. Plus, a part of him wanted to check on Jem one more time. He was almost certain their leader was dead, but he wanted to keep hope alive nonetheless.
It seemed like forever before he reached the top, then peering out onto the empty floor. Too far to reach, Jem’s arm lay outstretched, the disc clenched in his unmoving hand, the rest of his frame out of sight around a corner. First, Alixs waited, listening for sounds of the enemy. Surprised to hear nothing, he poked his head out and saw nothing but the long, empty hallway. A good look at Jem told him it was indeed too late for his friend. Jem’s eyes were glossed and unseeing, his exposed back a blackened spiderweb of scars — the tell-tale residual damage of a charged-current pistol. He had likely perished before hitting the floor.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the far end, and Alixs ducked back inside the escape shaft and swung himself around the ladder. He was out of the line of sight, at least, but now he had nowhere to go. His adrenaline pumping, his breath came fast and heavy, and loud enough to make him nervous. He swallowed, and tried to calm himself. He had no weapon,
no support, and nowhere to go once they got to him. Nowhere but straight down. He saw glints and flashes of the team far below, but there was no way he could reach them before it was too late. Besides, he had to get that disc.
Hopeless though he felt his odds were, he decided that by moving fast, he might stand a chance. Not that he could get away. That was impossible. But if he was quick enough, he could snatch the disc and toss it back to the others before the enemy had a chance to grab him. It was a slim chance, but better than nothing.
Before he had a chance to act, though, he heard boots again, closer this time. Holding his breath and trying to shrink back into the wall, he waited. A light beam penetrated the shaft and began swinging around, slowly to the right, then back in his direction, even more slowly. They were trying to get a look into the shaft. He slunk back even more, until he was practically behind the ladder, and just then the beam swung to within inches of him, stopping just short. He struggled to contain his breath, and he held tight to the ladder to keep it from shaking.
The light lingered close to his shoulder for a moment, wavering a little, then returned to center. It swept upward, shining on the rusty upper section that ended just above this top-floor landing, then down. It stayed down for a long time, moving like a sentry in even lines, spotlighting the rest of the freevos far below who’d also gone motionless, though they were easy to see.
Alixs wanted to call down a warning, but knew it’d do no good. They knew to stay low and wait. Any shouts from him would only confuse things — and get him killed in the process. At least they were far enough away to be out of firing position, or so he hoped. The peace forcers must have thought so as well, as the light snapped off and their boots tramped away from the shaft. Away from Alixs.
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