“I’m not liking this,” Maclin said as he kept looking below.
Kordell was both irritated and intrigued. “Not liking what?”
“We keep twisting and turning along with the road underneath us,” Maclin said. “And it looks like there’s a drone following us.”
“What?”
Maclin pointed at his side. “I’m not kidding, take a look to your right. The drone is flying just behind us.”
Kordell was somewhat alarmed, but he wanted them to think he remained confident. “I’m on the left side of this cockpit, I can’t.”
“Well, I’m telling you, that same drone has been following us for over fifty kilometers now.”
Kordell was skeptical. “How do you know? Have you been looking at it all this time?”
Maclin nodded. “Yeah, I have. It’s almost like it’s tailing us.”
“I think you’re a little too paranoid,” Kordell said. “Nobody knows about this transfer except our supervisor and the Justice Department.”
Maclin glanced back at him. “You don’t think there’s a leak?”
“Why would I think that?”
“Remember last night, when the com-links started acting all weird and stuff?”
Kordell rolled his eyes. “Come on, com-links get glitchy every now and then. It’s part of living in this super high-tech world now.”
“I know what a glitch is,” Maclin said. “Last night wasn’t a glitch.”
“What do you mean?”
“When a glitch happens, you just lose the network for awhile,” Maclin said. “Last night, it seemed like our network just reset itself.”
Kordell raised an eyebrow. “What? The network for the entire house?”
“Yeah,” his partner said. “There was a slight interruption and it seemed like the whole thing rebooted itself.”
“We still had comms with HQ didn’t we?”
Maclin scratched the back of his scalp. “Yeah, but…”
“Well, as long as we can communicate with HQ, then we’re fine.” Kordell said.
“Can I call them just to be sure?”
“Go ahead.”
His partner activated the com-link on his smartglasses and dialed a number for their field office in Las Vegas, but the call didn’t go through. He glanced back at Kordell once more. “I can’t reach them.”
Herbert was listening intently but continued to keep quiet. Could the Chinese be attempting something? No way, he thought. They wouldn’t dare do something like this in the mainland United States.
Kordell grimaced as he also tried to use the com-link on his smartglasses, but his call wasn’t getting through either. Just as he was about to say something to Maclin, the helicopter suddenly veered off to the right as it flew deeper into the desert. Kordell glanced behind him, and finally noticed that the unmanned aerial drone Maclin had spoken about was indeed following them.
Herbert started squirming in his seat. “What in the hell is going on?”
“Settle down,” Kordell said to him before staring into his partner’s worried face. “See if you can locate the override switch on the chopper’s AI module.”
Maclin had only flown in a helicopter twice before, and he was reluctant to touch any of the instruments for fear of a crash. His voice had gone up by an octave. “Uh, what would it look like?”
Kordell clutched the handlebar above the side door as the helicopter made another sharp turn. “It should say ‘override switch’ on the side of it. I think it’s a red button.”
Maclin looked over at the controller module, which resembled a large black box that had replaced the pilot’s chair. After nervously turning on the cabin lights, he finally found a big red button near the side of the console. He pressed it once, but there was no discernible change. “I pushed the button, now what?”
Kordell bit his lip. These AI helicopters were always supposed to have a radio contact with headquarters at all times when they flew. Even if the worst were to happen these vehicles had built-in redundant safety features. In the event of a mechanical failure or loss of communications, the AI module would have initiated a controlled landing as quickly as possible. The fact that they had no communications from their own personal smartglass devices indicated that not only were they being jammed, but the helicopter was also under remote control as well, most probably by the controllers of the drone that was now flying directly behind them. The FBI communications network was thought to be tamper proof, but there had been some isolated incidents in the past that proved otherwise.
Maclin kept glancing back and forth between what was in front of them and the drone that was tailing the helicopter. “What do we do?”
Kordell had thought about tampering with the AI controller module, but he didn’t have a clue as to how he could succeed. He didn’t have the know-how on how to pilot a helicopter, much less tamper with an AI device. One mistake and they would all crash into the desert scrub lands below. In the end, there really wasn’t much of a choice. “Just sit back, and make sure your seat belt is fastened. There’s nothing we can right now. As soon as we land, get ready to jump out.”
Maclin silently nodded as he felt the gun in his shoulder holster before placing his right hand on the manual door lever.
The helicopter flew for another fifteen minutes at extremely low altitude. With the ruse now revealed, they would sometimes fly so low that Kordell’s heart jumped a number of times as he could plainly see the rocky ground just a few meters below the landing skids. Every time the terrain would start to ascend, the helicopter would rapidly jink up and down while staying close to the ground.
After cresting a half-dozen hills, the helicopter suddenly slowed as it approached a small valley. At the far side of the clearing was a black painted sport utility vehicle, and its headlights were in bright mode as its beams extended their radiance towards the center of the clearing. The drone that had been following them veered off into the night as their helicopter hovered a few meters off the ground.
Just as Maclin had unclasped his seatbelt and was about to open the door at his side, Kordell held up his hand. “Wait,” he said to the younger agent. “Don’t do anything just yet.”
Maclin glanced back at him and nodded as he reached into his coat to grip the pistol. The helicopter soon landed, and the rotors began to power down.
The chopper’s intercom system suddenly activated, startling all three of them. The voice that they heard was of a different female’s as compared to the vehicle’s AI. “You are all to exit the chopper. Both FBI agents are to walk out with their hands in the air. Do this now.”
His adrenaline pumping, Maclin quickly opened the door and jumped out, drawing his gun.
Kordell tried to wave him off, but it was too late. “Maclin! No!”
Just as the younger FBI agent ran out into the open and pulled his gun out, a muffled clap was heard. Maclin stopped in mid-stride, his mouth hanging open. The young man’s knees started to buckle as he tried to bring his pistol up to eye level, but another subdued thud echoed slightly into the night and the top of his head came off.
Kordell yelled out before pushing a thoroughly scared Herbert out ahead of him. The prisoner was still handcuffed as he stumbled forward onto the rocky ground. Kordell stayed behind him as he pulled Herbert into a standing position. He glanced over at his dead partner lying on the desert floor and grimaced. Maclin had a wife and young daughter.
Another voice seemed to be coming from somewhere near the vehicle in front of them. “Move away from the prisoner and get your hands up.”
Kordell knew it was over. There was nothing more to be done. He placed his hands up in the air as he moved sideways, away from Herbert.
Someone came out of the shadows and started walking towards them. At first Kordell couldn’t make who it was due to the glaring headlights partially blinding him, but as the figure got closer he could see that it was a woman wearing a ski mask. She had a suppressor attached to the pistol she was carrying, and it was a
imed straight at him. He figured there must be another assailant with a scoped rifle eyeing them since the shooting of his partner had been more precise.
“Get down on your knees, both of you,” she said.
His lips trembling, Kordell kneeled onto the rocky ground, a few hard pebbles scraping his knees.
The woman walked over until she got behind them. “Herbert, start walking towards the car.”
Herbert hesitated at first, but he finally got up and moved away after the woman repeated her demand. He glanced at Kordell before shuffling forward, a pitiful expression on his face.
“You’re not going to get away with this,” Kordell said softly. “Killing a Federal agent means you’ll have every government agency coming for all of you. And we’ll get y’all too.”
“Maybe they will, but you won’t,” the woman said. She aimed the barrel of the gun at the back of his head and fired twice, the subdued cracks of gunfire rapidly dissipating into the barren, cloudless night.
Chapter 7
The restaurant’s gloomy interior emphasized a romantic atmosphere. Each table had a suspended conical light that illuminated the white linen on the small, circular table between them. Even the background music was subdued, encouraging their patrons to converse in soft tones to further underscore an intimate experience for all involved. The dining hall was a low-key affair of muted laughter, whispering, and chatting, occasionally interrupted by near silent, hovering waiters carrying plates of food and bottles of wine.
Walter Singer’s thick, heavy glasses tended to droop down towards the tip of his long nose, and he had to continuously push the frame back closer to his eyebrows. The tweed jacket he wore over his blue shirt and crimson-dot necktie was much too big for him, but he felt it made his scrawny frame someone manlier, so he even placed padding underneath the coat shoulders, despite the fact that everyone could see it was obvious. His other hand was holding the menu, and he was hard at work trying to calculate the additional sales tax with each item on the list. Just when he figured what he wanted, he looked up at the raven-haired woman sitting at the opposite end of the table. “So, what are you going to get?”
Darian Arante shrugged while looking at her own menu. “I … I’m not sure. What will you be getting?”
“Well, I think if I’ll get the Waldorf salad and the slow-cooked roast beef,” Walter said. “I can easily save about twenty-three cents on the sales tax as opposed to ordering the lettuce wedge salad with bleu cheese dressing instead.”
Darian smiled out of courtesy. Based on his information from the dating site, Walter was an accountant, so his penny pinching made sense. “That sounds … like a sensible option.”
Walter grinned back, showing his uneven teeth. Excluding his mother, this was the first time a woman ever complimented his decision-making. “I forgot to add that if I was going to order the lettuce wedge, I would have asked them to hold the bacon bits, but I doubt they would have reduced the price of the salad anyway, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
She was intrigued. “You don’t like bacon?”
“It’s not kosher,” Walter said.
“I see.”
The bow-tied waiter lingering near the table sensed that they had made their choices, and he quickly stood in between them. “Can I help you with any item on the menu?”
Walter beamed at him. “We’re good. I’d like the Waldorf and the roast beef.”
“Excellent choices,” the waiter said as he shifted his gaze to Darian. “And for you, ma’am?”
“I’ll take the roast vegetable salad and the shrimp scampi,” Darian said.
“Very good,” the waiter said. “And how about the wine?”
Darian glanced at the wine list. “Argentinean wine is good. What do you think of the Mendoza Valley Malbec?”
“With the new import laws, I think we may end up paying a few more percentage points in taxes,” Walter said before looking up at the waiter. “Let’s have the California Rondel instead.”
“Right away, sir,” the waiter said before turning around and heading for the kitchen.
Walter shrugged. “Sorry, but I think I just saved three dollars and eleven cents in taxes from our total bill.”
“It’s okay,” Darian said. “I can pay the difference.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you think I was cheap,” Walter said. “I can definitely pay for this whole dinner, it’s just that I hate to see people being taken advantage of.”
“Well, I’m glad to be under your protection,” Darian said. She was trying her best to be nice, but she didn’t like this evening one bit.
“I know it’s our first date,” Walter said. “Well, what I mean is, this is probably not your first date, but it is mine. When I applied at the dating site, it took me six months to get my first date, you see.”
Darian’s eyebrows ascended slightly. “So … I’m your first date?”
He nodded. “First ever. I mean, I did go out with a girl when I was in high school, but that was like with a bunch of other friends. We went to see a movie. I know you’ve had tons of other dates from the site before you chose me, I bet.”
Darian smiled again to keep up the appearance. In fact Walter was the only man on the matching service that consented to her application as well, but she didn’t dare admit it in front of him. “Yeah, I’ve had a few.”
“On your information page, it said you’re working for NASA, right?”
“Yes, I do work for them,” Darian said.
“Well I did a bit of research on your name after I saw that,” Walter said. “There was something on the news about a female NASA special agent being given an award by the president himself. Was that you?”
Darian suppressed the urge to grin. It was true that she had gotten the Distinguished Service Medal, the highest award that could be bestowed by NASA, and had also gotten the President’s award for Distinguished Federal Civilian Service- for her part in stopping a madman from taking over Mars with an army of robots, but the government largely suppressed the entire incident from the public, due to fears over the dangers of artificial intelligence programs which could possibly lead to worldwide panic. The official pronouncements from both the government and ACE Corp were about the tragic deaths of over a dozen personnel due to a freak accident at company’s new colony site. Darian had been directed by her superiors to downplay the award if anyone was to ever find out about it.
She didn’t want to lie to him, but she also knew to keep it low-key. “Yeah, I got an award from the president, but it’s nothing special.”
“I didn’t hear much about it on the news,” Walter said. “I think it said you saved a lot of lives or something on Mars, right? Was it an industrial accident or something?”
Darian nodded again. “Yeah, it was a series of freak occurrences. I just happened to be there at the right time. Just luck on my part.”
“I haven’t been to Mars yet, but I sure as heck want to go,” he said. “Would you want to go back again?”
Despite the passing of time, the mental images of killer robots and the deaths of her companions still gave Darian nightmares. “Maybe sometime in the future I wouldn’t mind to go back there again, but I’m content to stay on Earth for now.”
The waiter returned with their salad plates and the wine. As soon as he popped the cork and poured a glass each for them, he left the bottle on the table and headed back to the kitchen.
Walter started chewing. “Pretty good, huh?”
Darian nodded. Just as she was about to place a forkful into her mouth, there was a beeping noise in her ear piece. Placing the utensil down, she pulled out her smartglasses from beneath her coat and placed it over her eyes. The virtual screen on her left lens indicated it was coming from her partner, Tyler Dvorak.
Standing up, she gestured apologetically to Walter. “I’m sorry. I got to take this call.”
Ignoring his surprised look, she bounded over to the atrium, just by the entrance. Once she was out of earshot
from the others around her, she accepted the incoming call. “Yeah, Tyler. Go ahead.”
Tyler had recently been promoted to full-time, special agent status in NASA, and his dedication to the work matched her own. “Sorry to bother you, Darian. But you did tell me to contact you as soon as we got something.”
“No problem, I’m listening.”
“Okay,” Tyler said. “Your hunch was right. Our biometric analysts say that the man in the picture has a high probability of being Vlad Utkin, also known as the Anonymyst.”
Darian nodded. NASA had been looking for the hacker calling himself the Anonymyst for several years now, ever since he sabotaged an automated rocket launch which led to the destruction of a US government satellite, and bragged about it on the internet. The Russians had not been forthcoming about his whereabouts until just a few weeks ago, when they issued an alert for Vlad and began distributing his likeness on all worldwide law enforcement channels. “Okay, did you confirm the location on where it was taken?”
“I think so,” Tyler said. “When the picture was uploaded anonymously to the internet, all the title said was ‘Drunk Russian in club has his arms around two women.’ But based on the forensic analysis, our people think it’s a club in Las Vegas called Tech Noir.”
Darian frowned. It was clear that he escaped from the Russians, but what was he doing here? “Okay, I need you to call Marty, and tell him to authorize an operation in Las Vegas.”
“You want me to tell our supervisor that you want to go to Vegas?”
“Yes,” Darian said. “Or better yet, I think I will just contact him myself. Was there anything else on Anonymyst?”
“Looks like it was taken by one of the bar patrons,” Tyler said. “When we contacted the club itself, they said their video surveillance system was buggy, and they had no recordings for about a couple of nights. If it really was that Russian hacker, he must have covered his tracks by hacking the cameras in the club, but he must have forgotten about the other customers inside of it. That’s all I got so far.”
Virago One: A Hard Science Fiction Technothriller (Ace of Space Book 2) Page 7