by Aer-ki Jyr
The Archon closed the door on the empty freezer, then another person cycled through and followed him out of the covert entrance to another subsurface exit station on The Word’s connective water tunnel line. She wore the light green uniform of a software tech, and had just finished up her confirmation of Agent’s assertion that the hidden base’s computer systems had been thoroughly purged.
One of the security officers stepped over to David as he came out, shaking his head in a negative. “Dead end. We picked up the operative in an apartment, like he was just waiting for us. I think they gave us a decoy to follow while the others got away.”
“They got away?” the Archon asked, raising an eyebrow. They’d been tailing dozens of The Word operatives that had fled the four base exits that Star Force had discovered.
“We’re still following 13 others, but the rest vanished. We plotted the locations and are searching for more concealed bolt holes.”
“Damn,” David whispered. “You think the others are decoys or we still have a shot with them?”
“A few are running hard, so I think they’re genuine. The others I couldn’t say.”
“Got some big pieces coming up. See that they’re quietly moved to the spaceport.”
The security officer nodded, then David passed him by and entered the kitchen where three dedicated staff were busily creating the morning pastries in lieu of half their staff having mysteriously vanished.
“David! When did you get back?” the owner asked, coming back into the kitchen from the small dining area.
“Just passing through, I’m afraid,” he said, shaking the man’s large hand.
“Can I get you something to go?”
“As long as it has sprinkles.”
The owner/chef pointed a finger at him. “Stay right there. I’ll be back in a second.”
David obliged him and waited in the kitchen as more donuts were being made to add to the quickly thinning trays up for sale out front. Two days ago Star Force had made the owner a very lucrative offer, buying the business and allowing him to continue running it for as long as he wished. After the purchase David had clued him in to the fact that his shop had been used as a covert entry point for a criminal organization, of which he had been completely oblivious to.
He’d agreed to keep the matter a secret, as all sorts of Star Force personnel were coming and going regularly now and David didn’t feel like trying to hide the fact from him. The other entrances they’d discovered were less accessible, so Star Force had purchased this one to use on a regular basis and without the former owner’s cooperation that would have been dicey to say the least. The Archon knew he could have replaced him and the others with an entirely new staff, but that would have created a disruption in the regular business cycle, and the less attention the shop attracted the easier it would be for Star Force to come and go as they’d need to over the coming months.
After setting up hasty surveillance on the exits the three members of Green Team had found their way out of, all of which had been abandoned prior to their arrival, David had led a return team a day later made up of security personnel and techs, which proceeded to sweep the base for lingering personnel and booby traps, neither of which was found. What they did find was a cleaner version of the base than they’d left it, with a few items having gone missing and the bodies covering the floors gone. That said, there was still a huge amount of equipment left behind that subsequent Star Force analysis teams were busy going through, trying to dig up whatever intel on The Word that they could.
So far they’d been able to keep the Americans out of the loop. Many Star Force personnel working out of the Phoenix spaceport were American citizens, so seeing Star Force uniforms in public wasn’t as much of an oddity politically as it was fashionably, for they stood out in greater contrast to civilian clothes than even the American military uniforms.
Then again, everything that Star Force made did…including their civilian clothing line. Functionality mixed with a dose of superiority, as one fashion reviewer had stated, was Star Force’s MO with regards to clothing, and moving around town David had spotted several familiar items on Craig’s inhabitants…mainly on those running, jogging, or walking their way through workouts, because Star Force only made clothing to fit the fit.
Still, he’d turned many heads walking through town over to the donut shop from one of the apartments rented for the surveillance teams’ use. Not only because of his Star Force uniform, but because more often than not the public knew the different color codes and could identify him as an Archon. And as David well knew, they didn’t get out into public eye much.
As for the donut shop, the Star Force personnel kept to the back areas, letting the regular customers conduct business without added distraction. Still, many questions were raised, which the owner covered for them by informing the public of the purchase of the shop because of the high quality of donut he made…which David wasn’t about to argue, given that he did make a mean donut.
They’d also started a remodeling job on the building, covering for the trucks coming and going and giving the business a more ‘advanced’ look, befitting the new owners. Those trucks were bringing in more personnel that David hadn’t wanted to risk being seen walking the streets, as well as equipment for the analysis teams…most notably their own water craft. Like the college, the donut shop also had its own cargo lift, which would allow the larger pieces to move in and out while the freezer airlock was reserved for more quiet personnel movements.
The equipment coming up was a mix of seized weapons and industrial compounds…toxins mostly, that The Word had been storing rather than recycling or shipping out. A few other pieces were computer components that the techs thought warranted a closer inspection by specialists, hoping that some data might be able to be gleaned from the hardware.
Other than that, The Word had done a commendable job of covering their electronic tracks, but David expected Star Force’s teams, given an unlimited time to search the base, would come up with something useful. Until then all he had left to do was oversight on the runners they still had an eye on and see if they led anywhere of interest. That he could do from elsewhere, so this was going to be his last trip on site before heading back to the spaceport.
“Here you go,” the chef said, coming back with a none too small package inside a semi-translucent plastic bag. “Figure you guys burn a lot of calories, and if I’m wrong about your appetite I left you with a bit of a choice. Enjoy.”
“We eat more than you’d imagine,” David assured him, gladly taking the sugar-laden donuts. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” the chef said with a large smile as the Archon slipped out of the kitchen through the front doors and into the lobby where half a dozen people were standing in line at the counter for the chef to return, while about 15 others were sitting around eating donuts and sipping coffee. David’s nose wrinkled at the smell of the foul liquid, which oddly none of the Archons favored…at least as far as he knew.
He tolerated the smell and the odd looks as all eyes of those not with their backs to him followed him out the doors and onto the street, where he finally reached into the sack and flipped open the lid on the hard plastic container, pulling the top donut out and taking a bite on his way down the sidewalk. A few minutes down the road and a long hover truck passed him by on the airway five stories up, being only the third aerial vehicle he had seen.
This one, however, was familiar, with a giant Star Force emblem on the side of the cargo compartment. It flew over the smaller buildings and between the taller ones, then slowed to a stop above the road crossing the donut shop and descended to near street level, then ducked off into the parking lot before landing on wheel-based skids.
David didn’t turn back to watch, continuing on his walk through the small city until he came to the small airport it contained. There he processed through to a private terminal where a single mantis was parked. He picked up the pilot from the lobby on the way out, then was flown back to
Phoenix directly where he linked up with the ongoing tails that were still pursuing The Word’s personnel, some of which were now out of the country.
He set up shop there for another two days, finding each of the operatives in question to either disappear or make themselves available for pickup at some pointless location. One checked into a hotel and didn’t leave the premises, while another went home to visit his parents. David knew they were intentionally making themselves visible, and went so far as to leave some of them out in the open to see what they would eventually do if Star Force didn’t pick them up.
That was more of an in-your-face gesture to The Word than any real hope of tracking them to something revealing, but you never knew. He wasn’t going to be in charge of this operation for much longer, but there were sections of Star Force that would stay on the matter indefinitely and chase targets around the star system if asked…so he figured he might as well see where it led.
One of those long term tails, having camped out at a spa resort, left after 3 days and, ironically, headed to the Phoenix spaceport, having purchased a ticket for transport to Mars…but when the man arrived he checked himself into the security station, saying that he had a message for Nathan.
David had the man placed in a holding cell while he checked on other leads, wondering if this might be some type of distraction. Meanwhile he had Nathan, who was still in the spaceport along with Assad just in case one of the leads led to another Word facility, head over to the security station to see what message the operative had for him.
The Archon lazily made his way down to the holding cell, stopping by one of the food stations in the terminal on his way, and wondering if The Word knew he was here or had just shown up at the closest Star Force spaceport.
Nathan entered the holding/interrogation cell room by himself, having had all other security personnel leave it prior to his arrival, and chewing on a ‘sugar stick,’ which was essentially a long, tubular cookie that was baked extra thick and layered with various types of decorative confections.
“Archon,” the man greeted respectfully.
“Let’s hear it,” Nathan said, biting off another small piece of the treat…not because he was hungry, which he was, but in order to give his body something to do in order to cover his facial expressions. He wanted a mask to observe from behind, rather than being the one observed.
“As the Agent said, your conversation was being recorded, including your face, which was how we identified you,” the man said plainly, letting Nathan know that somehow during his ‘escape’ he had not only been in contact with The Word, but they’d given him information and instructions…meaning their ‘covert’ rep just went up a notch in the Archon’s estimation. “First off, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Nathan said, nipping off another piece of the stick.
“You’ve dealt us a significant loss. Not a crippling blow, by far, but one that we did not expect Star Force capable of dealing. Admittedly the death of the students was a mistake on our part, but you’ve proven yourself more…adept than we gave you credit for.”
“I assume this comes from your boss and not your own opinion?”
“It does.”
“Please continue,” Nathan said, drawing an imperceptible frown from the man who’d expected him to inquire as to his source of information.
“Now that we have been introduced by name, allow us to make a full introduction. The Word is a Human organization. We have no nationalistic ties. No corporate agenda. And we are fully committed to our goal of returning our people to purpose. We look at your recent seizure of our Colorado base as a failure on our part, we were forced to kill to cover our tracks. Had we been wise we never would have been backed into that corner. It was our error that led you to us, and we do not hold you accountable for the end result, only our own ineptitude.”
“We will, however, hold you accountable for any future actions against our organization,” he continued. “We are not inherently your enemy, but if you choose to oppose us, we will view and treat you as such.”
Nathan held up his hand to forestall further comment, then finished the mouthful he was on. “Does The Word favor hunting, sacrifice, meat-eating, female denigration, and subservience of ‘lesser’ races?”
“Females have their role, as do males. We would not define that as denigration. As for the others, the answer is yes, naturally.”
“Then naturally we are and always will be your enemy.”
The man stared him evenly in the eye as the Archon took another disinterested bite. “I have three remaining messages to give you, in that case.”
“Shall I get a datapad?”
“No need. They are simple enough, and you’re undoubtedly recording this conversation anyway. First, we are aware of many of your surveillance efforts. If you wish to oppose us, then discover the error of your ways, cease your efforts and we will reciprocate. This need not be an eternal conflict.”
“Oh, you have no idea how stubborn we can be.”
“Two,” he said, with his demeanor changing from calm to an iron firmness. “So long as you operate against us, so too will we operate against you. To date we have not done so. This is fair warning. Cease now or we will begin targeting you directly.”
“I thought we were important to the future?”
“There are many possible futures, not all of which you are present in.”
Nathan waited for the third message, but the man chose to remain silent. Mimicking him, Nathan took another bite and chewed for a minute, with the crunching of the sugar stick the only sound in the room save for the tiny hum from the shield separating the two men.
He visibly swallowed down the lump of sugary carbs, then gestured at the man with his other hand. “And?”
“Treguna…Mekoides…Tracorum…Satis…Dee.”
Half a second after the he pronounced the last word there was a flash on the shield wall, then a pressure wave hit Nathan and he blacked out.
He woke to a pounding headache and a twisting of his legs around his torso at the waist, then realized he was being moved and reflexively clenched his muscles to straighten his posture.
“He’s coming around,” a voice said as Nathan blinked his eyes, one of which was clouded by liquid that his nose soon identified as blood.
Nathan’s foot found the ground, then a flurry of hands helped stand him up as well as supporting his weight as he swiped his free arm over his right eye, followed by the cuff of his uniform.
“Can you hear me, sir?”
“Don’t call me ‘sir,’” Nathan said, seeing security uniforms around him as he tried to clear his head, which he noticed was ringing as well. “Where am I…what happened?”
“You’re a few meters down the hall from where the prisoner…exploded.”
Nathan focused on the man’s face, then the hallway around them began to materialize. A couple seconds later he could see the blast zone emanating from a doorway down on his left. He waved off the supportive hands and nudged his way back down there, then looked inside.
“Where’s he at?”
“Bits and pieces are everywhere, si…Archon. There’s no corpse remaining.”
“I’d recommend,” another security officer said, “that we get you to a medbay. You’ve got shrapnel damage over your entire body.”
Nathan glanced down, both at the rubble on the floor from the walls that were blown out and the growing red spots scattered over his white uniform. He grimaced, then reached up to his forehead and pulled out a piece of debris…which resulted in an increased blood flow that he swiped at with his other arm.
He looked at the shrapnel…seeing that it was a bit of bone.
“Nobody touch this room,” Nathan ordered. “I want an analysis team looking for residue traces. Any other security alerts?”
“None reported.”
“Check anyway, just in case this wasn’t isolated...I can walk, but clear the way…and have a medic meet us on the way so I’m not leaving a blood trail
across the spaceport,” Nathan said, taking one more glance at the blast zone.
Message received.
9
May 29, 2405
Solar System
Earth
“You have something?” David asked as he launched himself up out of the staircase and into Davis’s office.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” the Director said as the Archon sat down opposite him, “but we had to send the fragments down to the pyramid for a closer analysis. Our equipment isn’t sensitive enough to detect the explosive when it detonates properly, which it did. It’s called Dargomir, and takes up residence in the body’s tissues…all of them. The man wasn’t carrying a bomb, he was the bomb.”
David frowned. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s rare. A specialty amongst some assassins, I’m told. Very high end tech on the black market. I’ve only got 3 cases of it ever being employed, all of which had the target ingest the explosive in liquid form, then detonated with a precise frequency microwave burst. It triggers the compound to explode simultaneously, leaving little behind to analyze. On occasion there will be pockets that do not detonate, but if there’s not it’s untraceable, yet obvious due to the nature of the damage.”
“Was he carrying the detonator on him?”
“Not on him,” Davis explained, “inside him. We think it was imbedded in his neck near his vocal chords. There was a tiny mark visible on surveillance recordings, but there wasn’t anything left after the explosion to analyze. We suspect the trigger was the phrase he spoke just before he exploded.”
“I looked it up. It comes from an old movie. Older than me, actually.”
“Treguna…Mekoides…Tracorum…Satis…Dee. It’s a spell from Bedknobs and Broomsticks, an obscure Disney movie. Did you see it?”
“No, I just googled it. It’s obscure enough that someone wouldn’t randomly say the words and accidentally trigger the device, but as to why they chose that particular phrase I don’t know. Aside from Star Force personnel, no one alive was even born in the century that it was made. If you think there’s some hidden meaning in it, I’ll have a look.”