Hero of the Republic: (The Parasite Initiative, Book 1)

by Britt Ringel

  Covington’s eyes found their target, a more modest display featuring the smallest zeta-pinch drive manufactured by the company. She resumed her pace as her research on its engineering specifications and features flooded through her brain. A server bearing a plate of steaming appetizers passed by, shadowed by a second one carrying tall flutes of refreshment. Covington declined both offers and took the opening steps to establish her credentials.

  A gentleman wearing a receiver eyepiece over his left eye measured her approach and greeted, “Hello, Miss Thompson. I see that Sworo Transport is looking for a new vendor that can assist with in-system, efficient drives for its next line of freighters.” He flipped the eyepiece up as he turned toward the one-fifth scale display of the Model 5-234Z pinch drive. “The Thirty-four-Z is the most efficient drive on the market today.” He waved grandly at a console on the machine. “Please come around and I’ll run a demonstration and explain how Sworo’s new transports will benefit from the tighter magnetic field we can create.”

  * * *

  Covington’s heart rate had settled down an hour into the Expo. After cutting her teeth on the type of propulsion unit she most understood, she found slipping into the role of prospective engine consumer relatively easy. Even on the rare occasion she misspoke regarding z-pinch drives, the sales representative happily corrected her and quickly rerouted the conversation to how Malatech’s technology was the best fit for her needs.

  She had dutifully taken technical notes on her datapad and even paid twice for demonstration packages to be delivered to Sworo Transport in Niven over the coming weeks. After her first, successful steps into her identity, Covington began to believe that she could actually pull off the impersonation. Forty minutes into the event, she had calmed enough to sample the canapé while carefully noting which door the servers were retreating through to refill their trays. She had begged off the alcohol though, worried that it might dull her edge. In contrast, each time Covington ran across Wills, he had boasted a different flute of champagne in one hand and woman in the other.

  As the Expo entered its second hour, Covington made her way to the small portal used by the servers. She looked behind her, guiltily, before pushing the portal open and stepping into a long hallway.

  A server was proceeding away from Covington with an empty tray by her side. Covington quickly donned tight gloves that matched the color of her fair skin. She tested each door while moving down the hall. Anxiety rose with every locked door. As she neared the end of the hallway, she could hear the unmistakable sounds of a kitchen.

  “Excusez-moi, Ce domaine est interdit d'accès.”

  Covington’s eyes traced from a locked door handle to a large security guard standing at the end of the hall.

  Chapter 36

  Time to go to Plan B, Covington thought as she grinned nervously. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t speak French.” She shrugged her shoulders in an apology while staring at the man. The fabric of his suit strained to confine the muscle beneath it.

  “You not allowed here,” the man said in broken English. He pointed back down the hall, toward the door leading to the Expo.

  Covington walked stiffly toward him, using the spontaneous blush spreading over her face to her best advantage. “Um, I have to pee. Really bad.”

  The security guard gave her an uncomprehending look.

  Covington glanced behind her to ensure privacy before saying emphatically, “Bath-room. Rest-room.” She crossed her legs slightly and continued to look uncomfortable.

  The security guard’s expression flashed with understanding. “Oh! Excusez-moi.” He now shared her awkward expression.

  Covington, now just one step away from the man, pointed toward the kitchen and pleaded pitifully, “Bathroom there?”

  The guard shook his head emphatically. “Non. Bathroom, there.” He pointed back down the hall.

  Covington immediately grabbed the guard’s hand. Twisting it outward, she used her right hand to secure his elbow and create leverage. The aggressive maneuver brought forth a rush of anger from inside her, a familiar companion during her past.

  In the span of two heartbeats, the guard had been forced down to the floor from the crushing pressure of the wristlock. As he crumbled to avoid broken bones, Covington deftly stepped behind him, releasing her right hand and flattening it. She quickly moved the flattened hand under the man’s right ear, slid the edge of it under his chin and around the bull’s neck until the fold of her elbow rested firmly against his adam’s apple. Grabbing her left bicep to secure her right arm’s position, she released the wristlock and brought her left hand up and behind the man’s head before pulling her shoulders back.

  The guard struggled but she knew she had him from the moment her right hand became secured. Within seconds, the sentinel was motionless and Covington fought the instinctive urge to continue the choke. She hunched her shoulders forward while relaxing slightly, careful to ensure that she could reapply pressure if necessary.

  Ahead of her, the door to the Expo opened and Wills’ face appeared. He jogged down the hall and asked, “Can you get his jacket off?”

  Covington stripped the coat from the security guard. When Wills reached her, he grabbed the jacket and donned it. “Help me,” he said urgently while beginning to lift the large man to his feet.

  “Where’s Kyle?”

  Wills grunted under the strain of the bulk. “Delaying a server who wants to return an empty tray. Help me lift this beast.”

  Covington tucked an arm under the unconscious man. Wills jerked his head toward the kitchen. “We’re way into Plan B so remember your motivation.”

  The duo hobbled through the door to the kitchen, carrying their load. Inside, half a dozen food preparers and a handful of servers offered shocked expressions at their sudden appearance.

  “Dammit, Theodore,” Covington swore loudly in a thick brogue, “this is the last time you drink at these Expos. HailTrax paid a fortune for us to be here and you go and do this!” She glared menacingly at anyone who dared stare at her for too long.

  Wills used his free hand to wave the security guard’s ID badge still clipped to his coat while slyly covering the picture with a finger. “Je vais aider la madame. Continuez à travailler.” He released his security credentials and pointed to a second exit. “Uh, please go this way, Madame,” he added in stilted English.

  Once through the kitchen, Covington darted forward to search for an open door. She found one on her fifth attempt as Wills half-carried, half-dragged the security guard in her wake.

  “Find something to tie him up,” Wills ordered while stuffing the jacket’s blue handkerchief into the man’s mouth.

  Covington removed the security guard’s tie and began to bind his hands and feet as one. She then wrapped an entire roll of office tape around the makeshift bond for added security.

  “Here,” Wills said with hand extended. In his palm was an earbud. At the entrance, Wills had smuggled in three inert earbuds in his breath mint container while Danzy carried the batteries that would power them in his hearing aid.

  Covington quickly inserted the bud into her left ear. “Kyle, can you hear me?”

  Danzy’s disembodied voice spoke to her. “Yes. Alden, that server is on her way to the kitchen. You have about ten seconds left.”

  “We’re clear,” Wills answered. “We ran into a guard but Aoife handled it.”

  Covington flushed with pride. She only regretted that Joab had not heard Wills’ praise. Until the security barrier to the outside could be pierced, the threesome could only speak to each other. “Can you use this console?” she asked.

  Wills stepped around the desk and pulled Danzy’s hearing aid from his pocket. “We’ll see.” He pried the back from the desktop station. “The actual hardware for the computer is in the server room but I should be able to piggyback the connection here.”

  Leaving Wills to connect the tiny device to Malatech’s internal network, Covington rechecked the bonds on the unconscious securi
ty guard. Once satisfied, she stepped to the door and cracked it open. The hall was empty. In her left ear, Danzy was talking to someone at the Expo about VASIMD power plants. She waited until there was a pause and asked, “Kyle, are you joining us?”

  “You have things under control,” Danzy stated confidently. “I’ll keep an eye on things out here. Alden, how’re you doing?”

  “Almost done.” Wills stepped back from the monitor and watched it expectantly.

  Covington joined the vigil, unsure what she was looking for. Seconds passed in silence before a strange, electronic voice whispered in her ear.

  “Who’s this?” Covington asked.

  “It’s me, Aoife... Soto. Kyle, I’m online. Hacking in, so give me a second.” Soto’s voice was nearly unrecognizable. It held a distinct, synthetic quality about it.

  “Aoife.” Joab’s quiet snarl came a few moments later.

  “Yes?” she answered.

  “Any problems with security?”

  Covington could not help but smile. “No. I used your blood choke. Way better than what I was taught.”

  “That’s my girl,” he grunted. “Faster, requires less strength.” The sourness in his voice was an ironic contradiction to his words. “I’m glad it was useful. Hey, Alden, what are they serving?”

  “Can we stick to the important things, team?” Danzy interrupted.

  “This is important, Kyle!” Joab protested. “What’re they serving?”

  Danzy sighed. “Mostly vol-au-vent with a selection of blanc de noirs.”

  “Chicken and fish inside them?”

  “Chicken and mushrooms, actually,” Wills answered.

  Joab cursed profusely over the comm frequency. “Man, this is an Ardean company. If they can’t offer an authentic French culinary experience….” He growled again as his frustration boiled over. “I’m coming in, Kyle.”

  “Stand down, Joab,” Danzy ordered pointedly. He then softened his tone. “You’d appreciate the selections of blanc de noirs.”

  Joab sighed loudly over the frequency. “It’s just a waste of fine champagne if they can’t even respect the traditional ingredients of a vol-au-vent.” His voice began to twist into tension again. “You tell the next server how disappointing their choice of stuffing is and I don’t want to hear about culinary interpretations or reimaginations of traditional cuisine. You honor the past, dammit!”

  “I’m in,” Soto declared victoriously.

  “That was faster than usual,” Wills noted.

  “She’s been plugged in for the last two hours,” Joab stated contemptuously. “I may as well have been sitting next to a corpse this evening.”

  “So help me, Joab. If I unplug and find a lampshade over my head again….”

  “Inn, I already told you, the guards were searching for us and I was trying to camouflage you.”

  “Malatech’s electronic security is no joke. How’d you hack in so quickly?” Danzy asked.

  “Orleans’ city managers really need to dedicate more funding to their cyber security. I snuck into local Orleans emergency services and then breezed through Malatech’s front-line Elec-Sec,” Soto boasted with unreserved glee. “I know that credits are tight but you’d think corporations would be demanding to pay higher taxes to improve their government’s electronic security,” she continued. “I mean, what’s the point of Malatech’s first rate Elec-Sec if anyone can ride in through government-mandated pathways?”

  “Blueprint, Inn,” Danzy reminded.

  “Almost there,” she answered. “I’m using their own security measures, fire alarm systems, even wiring schematics to flesh things out.” She paused. “I can tell you that the heaviest security right now is either in the basement or on the hundred sixty-eighth floor.”

  “Alden, Aoife,” Danzy said, “get ready to move. Inn, they need a path to the basement.”

  “How do you know that’s where we need to go?” Wills asked while trying to fit the station’s casing over the attached twerp.

  “Because Malatech isn’t going to stage their priceless data in a place where someone can cut through a wall and anti-grav out of their compound.”

  Covington pointed to the monitor as a floor plan appeared on the screen. Wills swung back around the console to join her.

  “Alden,” Soto said in her peculiar, digitized voice, “I’ve put up the path on your monitor. I traced the twerp to your room but the signal isn’t strong enough to jump from the twerp to your datapad.”

  “I can dock my datapad,” Wills suggested.

  “Don’t!” she answered quickly. “They have watchdogs looking for unauthorized internal connections. I got a glimpse of one coming in. I think they’re Hellhound programs so I’d really like to avoid them.”

  “Nasty,” Wills agreed. “I can just take a picture of the screen, Inn.” He held his datapad up toward the monitor briefly and then swiped a finger over the screen. “Done.” He looked over to Covington with a smile. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Covington and Wills spent the next ten minutes leaning around corners and ducking into rooms. Soto’s omnipresent guidance helped them avoid the building’s electronic internal security but the constant threat of walking into actual security guards slowed their progress toward the basement to a crawl. In many cases, the cyber technician had been able to warn the pair about approaching patrols but twice now they had only narrowly evaded guards positioned out of Soto’s “view.” Only the enigmatic hacker’s ability to unlock office doors at her whim had saved them.

  Covington opened wide the latest door after a thorough check. “Safe to move,” she whispered to Wills. It was unnerving to be in the lead as they infiltrated deeper into the building. I was only at point twice when training for my corporate reconnaissance specialty, she thought anxiously.

  “Approaching a camera, Aoife,” Soto informed. A beat later, “Okay, it’s blind.”

  Covington peeked around the corner. Near the ceiling, a tiny security camera continued its sweep over the doublewide hallway. She edged around the turn, every muscle in her body under tension. She felt like a coiled spring as she walked quietly toward a bank of elevators. The hallway was too wide for her liking, offering too much exposure. She looked behind to ensure that Wills was still trailing. His smiling face gave her a measure of unwarranted confidence.

  Why is he following me instead of vice versa? she asked herself. I hardly know what I’m doing and it’s only a matter of time before I screw up. Sadly, she knew she already had. Back in the first office, after tying up the security guard, she had completely forgotten to check him for a weapon. What a terrible, rookie mistake, she chastised.

  They reached the elevators and one opened almost immediately.

  “Good work, Aoife,” Soto complimented. “We’re past the easy stuff now. I can send you straight to the sublevel but we’ve got a big problem.” She paused. “Dammit, a watchdog just cornered one of my red herrings. Oh, wow… Yeah, they’re definitely running wickedware.”

  “Since we’re still talking, I assume you haven’t been caught,” Danzy noted.

  “Not yet but the threat level just went up. I’m running out of time.” Soto paused again. “As I was saying, I can send you straight to the sublevel but there’s a problem. The sublevel we want is basically a hallway with a single server room at its end. I’m looking at two guards in the hallway via a security camera. One near the elevator doors, the other at the door to the server room. Both are carrying guns.”

  “What kind?” Covington and Joab asked simultaneously.

  “I don’t know,” Soto replied. “The angle is real bad; I can’t see them. I can tell you that they’re bigger than pistols but smaller than rifles.”

  “Submachine guns,” Covington surmised.

  “Duboix Shredders, Series Nine,” Joab stated. “Standard security armament for Malatech guards the public aren’t meant to see. Sixty-six centimeters long, two-point-six kilograms. Fires nine hundred caseless five-point-seven by tw
enty-eight millimeter rounds per minute with a muzzle velocity of nine hundred twenty meters per second. Seventy-five round detachable box magazine. They’ll be wearing body armor with Instant Alert Protocol. This is a big problem.”

  “So how about someone comes up with a big solution,” Wills suggested.

  “Ugly Duckling?” Joab asked.

  “No,” Danzy replied.

  “Fleeing Hare?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  Covington cocked her head and grinned despite herself. “Are we playing word association? Fluffy rabbit.”

  “We’re just running through the playbook, Aoife. Inn, do they have ballistic helmets?” Danzy asked.

  “Yup.”

  “High collars on their vests that go around their necks?”

  “Yup.”

  Joab growled. “Aoife, you’ll have to shoot them in the face.”

  Wills snorted. “Shoot them in the face? That’s the plan? Shoot their face. That’s the great thinking from the minds of our combative technicians?”

  “Shut up, Alden,” Joab threatened.

  “Uh,” Covington muttered shyly, “that’s going to be hard without a slug-thrower.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Danzy sighed. “The guard you took out wasn’t armed.”

  “Well,” Covington admitted reluctantly, “he might have been but I kind of didn’t check.”

  Joab’s laughter carried through the channel. When it finally died down, he said, “I bet you never do that again.”

  Danzy spared her a response. “We’re switching to a less than lethal option then. Inn, unlock the three nearest doors to Aoife’s position and then start working on the guards’ IAP and those Shredders. Those guards are dedicated heavies; see if they have wireless datalinks to their weapons.”