“I’ll talk to our security team so they know what we’re doing.” Toby had decided not to bring Mars and his squad with them; their profile was far too military and would have caused consternation on arrival at Bermuda’s international airport. Drexel had shuddered at the thought of obtaining the permits and approvals required by the Bermudian authorities for a squad of armed robots. After some discussions, Drexel had agreed that two of his people would be adequate for their protection while in Bermuda.
The aircraft was brand-new. It was the TE-Air model, one of the first electrojets off Tesla’s new production line. It was fully autonomous, and on this, its first flight for Toby, it was flying from Los Angeles to Bermuda, non-stop, without crew, and without passengers. The composite electric-jet fuel power units provided the extra range required to reach Bermuda. Billie was looking forward to taking the pilot seat on the return journey even though the aircraft’s autonomous flight system meant that as a pilot she would have very little to do apart from monitoring the flight plan and actual course flown.
They took two taxis, the second for the security team, to the fixed base operator at the airport, who had contracted to re-fuel the TE-Air and provision it for the return flight. The airport was located on the east end of St. David’s Island; the runway had water views on either side. The fixed-base operator owner-manager, Richard Tucker, welcomed them; his enthusiasm was focused on the arriving aircraft and Billie as pilot. Toby was happy to be regarded merely as a passenger intending to return to the US on the new aircraft.
While Billie and Tucker were discussing the electrojet, its design, and autonomous operation, Toby contacted Bronwyn. He asked, “Can you check the location of the TE-Air?”
Bronwyn said, “It’s on time and on course. It should be landing in ten minutes.”
“Thanks.”
Toby walked out of the hanger onto the small observation deck to join the Drexel guards who also were eager to see the new aircraft. After a minute or two, both Billie and Richard Tucker joined them. Tucker’s small workforce followed.
“It’s quite an event,” said Tucker. “It will be a first. I understand Tesla people were planning to be here?”
“My employer requested that this be kept low key, so they agreed to cancel,” Billie said. “As for the flight, the only real problem was getting permission for a fully autonomous aircraft to make the trip. There was a lot of red tape to work through.”
Tucker carried a pair of binoculars; he was trying to find the approaching aircraft but it was still too small and too distant. He handed them to Billie. “Here, you try.”
Billie stared through the binoculars, searching across the expected landing path from the north. There were no other aircraft in sight; the airport was low traffic. She pointed. “Look. There it is.”
Everyone looked in the direction Billie indicated as she handed the binoculars back to Tucker. They all were silent, aware that they were witnessing, even as minor as it was, a historical event.
“Yes,” said Toby, “I think I can see it. I’m glad we didn’t agree to have it painted blue.”
Suddenly, there was a red flash from the forward cabin. The aircraft burst into flames and there was a continuous series of explosions. The streaks of smoke were like tendrils of evil, flame-tinged, and accompanied by fragments of the aircraft. It was too far away for the watchers to hear the explosion although ten to twelve seconds later, a rumble of sound rolled across the island. The smoke dissipated. The aircraft no longer existed.
The watchers were silent, stunned by the destruction of the aircraft.
Eventually Billie, in a quiet voice, said, “Bugger.”
Bronwyn whispered in Toby’s ear and he assumed the same message was being conveyed to Billie. “There was no warning, at all. I was linked to the command unit. There was nothing wrong with the programing. Everything was stable. It’s sabotage.”
“Sabotage?” said Billie.
“A possibility,” confirmed Toby. The two security guards looked alarmed and moved closer, as though to add to Toby’s safety.
Tucker looked stunned, as did his work crew. He said, “Wow. That is a disaster. Sabotage? Do you think so?”
“The aircraft passed every test that Tesla could define. It also passed all the FAA tests. . It was capable of flying another thousand miles, and the batteries were designed and tested to cope with tremendous extremes,” Toby said.
Tucker turned to Toby. His change of expression was like a light switching on. “You—you’re that guy? Damn. I didn’t realize. Pardon me for not—you must be devastated?”
“Not as much as I would be if I was on board.”
Tucker nodded his understanding.
Billie asked Toby, “Is there a possibility their—whoever set this up—their timing was off?” She had turned pale.
Bronwyn said, “I had checked the status of every component that the AI pilot unit was connected to—absolutely nothing was wrong. Everything was operating at expected performance levels; there were no temperature changes, no leaks, no breakages, and no processes ending unexpectedly. My conclusion is definitely sabotage; whether the explosive device was set for the landing approach or was mistimed—I cannot tell.”
Toby said, “While the destruction of the aircraft on approach is very public, it’s doubtful that was the intention. I don’t think the timing could be set with that precision.” He had no doubts about who was responsible for the sabotage of his new aircraft. Flocke and his brownshirts had opened up a new battlefront, perhaps this time with the expected Russian assistance. He could see emergency vehicles heading to the far end of the runway. “I suspect they were hoping to destroy the plane on the return flight, possibly after takeoff. Billie, see what commercial flights are available—we need to depart as quickly as possible.”
“On it.” She tugged her cell phone out of her hip pocket.
Tucker said, “There’s a flight departing for New York in an hour. I know enough people in the terminal to smooth the way. That is, except for the US officials—you’ll have to work your way through their procedures.”
“I think we all have our passports with us. What’s the flight time to New York?” Toby asked.
“A little over two hours.”
“Okay, let’s do it.” He turned to the security duo. “One of you can travel with us if we can get tickets. Whoever catches a later flight, please collect our personal stuff—our notepads and anything valuable. Clothes can stay. We’ll all be back, I can promise that. Billie, did you get seats?” When Billie nodded her head, he asked the FBO manager, “Richard, can you drive us to the airport?”
“Why certainly. It’ll be my pleasure.” He thought for a moment. “What about government aviation officials? They’ll be investigating the destruction of the aircraft?”
“We probably know less than they will, so I don’t think we can add any value by staying here. I assume they’ll fly in air accident investigators from Canada and US. That will take a day or two to arrange. I want to avoid the media; they’ll be all over this.”
“I know what you mean. I play golf with one of the assistant commissioners. I might be able to persuade him to keep this on the restricted list for at least a few hours. Let me get you to the terminal and I’ll see what I can do.”
They were at the terminal in less than five minutes. Billie collected their tickets, and Toby called Drexel. The security boss cursed.
He said, “You’ve made the right decision. Get back here as soon as you can. I’ll arrange for additional security for you, on your arrival at New York. I’ll also make some calls that should get you VIP treatment through Homeland Security—their team in Bermuda should help with your entry clearance. Let me know as soon as you land.”
Billie handed airline tickets around. She had booked the last two business class seats for herself and Toby; Drexel’s people would travel economy. She handed one ticket to the Drexel guard who was taking a later flight and briefed him on what he should pack of their belongi
ngs to bring with him. It was very little. He also promised to collect his companion’s belongings.
Toby, Billie, and the second Drexel guard managed to grab a sandwich for a rushed lunch from La Trattoria while the airline representative was waiting to hand them over to a senior Homeland Security official. Apparently Drexel had contacted someone who recognized the need for assisting them to board the aircraft. No one questioned their lack of luggage. The flight departed on time.
oOo
Chapter 35
After takeoff, Toby said to Billie, “When we arrive at New York, everyone—Flocke, perhaps the Russians, media people—will be expecting us to travel on to LA. Instead, we‘ll catch the first flight to Europe; London, Zurich or Paris—any one of those should do. Our final destination will be Zurich, though. Bronwyn can set up some false trails.”
“Why Europe? I didn’t expect you—”
“That’s the advantage. No one will be expecting it. I have a paperwork deadline that’s only a week or two away. The attorneys and banks in Lichtenstein are raising the importance level for me to finalize aspects of Nate’s estate that they control. With Bronwyn’s assistance, we can make it appear as though we’re on an LA flight. We can add some other destinations to confuse the brownshirts. Hopefully, the media will lose track of us. There’ll be other disasters in the public’s mind by the time we return.”
“Drexel will not like you traveling without security.”
“Not sure we can do much about that. The people in Vaduz are anxious because my senior team is taking control of operations in Europe before I’ve completed the Lichtenstein legal formalities.” Vaduz was the capital of Lichtenstein; Nate, Toby’s uncle, had established a corporate network in Europe with controls through the small country. Nate, Toby thought, knew more about taxation and cross-border trading then he expected to ever understand.
One of the cabin crew interrupted their soft-voiced conversation and offered another glass of champagne. They both accepted.
Bronwyn, who had been listening to Toby’s plan, said, “I agree it’s prudent for you to go to Europe. Incidentally, according to Nate’s property portfolio, you have access to a large apartment in Zurich. It’s owned through a Luxembourg company, which in turn is owned by a trust in Bermuda, which in turn is somehow related to one of the foundations Nate established in Lichtenstein.”
Toby did not comment. His uncle’s business structures were surprisingly complex.
The flight was on time, and when the plane landed at JFK, Toby and Billie disembarked ahead of most of the passengers. As they entered the concourse, Bronwyn said, “There’s a military squad of some kind just ahead. One of our bots picked up a snippet of conversation. I think they’re waiting for you.”
“I wonder what that’s about,” mused Toby.
“You’ll soon learn,” advised Billie. She pointed. “They’re just ahead.”
Two men approached and indicated Toby and Billie should move out of the way of following passengers. A squad consisting of four men was waiting, further back. The two strangers both held out ID cards. The one nearer said, “I’m FBI Special Agent Xavier Jones.”
The second man added, “I’m Major Alderink, and I represent the Office of the Director of National Intelligence.”
Jones continued, “Tobias Allan McIntosh, you’re under arrest for treason. Miss Wilhelmina Nile, you’re included. I have warrants for both of you. Please come with me.” The waiting squad moved closer.
Toby hid his shock. He whispered, “Wilhelmina?”
“Damn, I hate that name.”
Bronwyn, unheard by the two men, said, “It’s a sham of some kind. No warrants have been issued anywhere for your arrest. Their identities appear to be genuine. I’ll help get you out of this as quickly as possible. I’m capturing images and recordings from security cameras and a sweeper bot. I’m arranging reinforcements.”
Toby said, “Very well, Xavier. First though, show me your warrant.”
The FBI agent ignored Toby’s request. “I have no patience for traitors. Come quietly or the major’s men will deal with you.”
Toby decided, at least for the moment, to allow Jones to take control. He said, “Very well. Come along with the kind men, Billie. I’m sure they’ll realize their error before long.”
Agent Jones led them along corridors that Toby suspected had little relationship with possible exits. Airport terminals were warrens, with areas well out of the way of the public. He used his pass to open a door and signaled for Toby and Billie to pass through into another corridor, shorter, with offices off one side. The office doors were all locked.
“We have a flight to catch,” Toby reminded the FBI agent.
“Asswipe,” was the less than polite response. “You’re not going anywhere for a long time.” He fumbled with an office door, and eventually his pass worked. “You’ll be here until my team arrives.”
The military escort remained outside the office. It was mid-sized with two desks and half a dozen chairs. They looked uncomfortable. The ceiling held a black oval cover hiding a camera unit.
Bronwyn said, “I’ve completed a video file you can send to their bosses. I have a squad of bots on the way. Less than two minutes.”
“Upload the video to my cell phone.”
Jones reacted. “What?”
Toby held up his cell phone. “I’m sending video clips of our detention to the National Security Adviser. He’ll be most annoyed with you and the major. I have a copy for your AD. What’s his name?”
Bronwyn whispered, “Jordan Hurst. The major reports to General Al Frost.”
Toby continued, “Ah yes, Jordan Hurst. And for you, Major, the video is heading to General Frost. That should alarm everyone.”
“How the hell? Let me see your cell phone.” The FBI agent reached out.
Toby held the phone inches away from the agent’s hand. He played the video that Bronwyn had spliced together commencing from the initial FBI contact, so that the two men could view it. Their voices on the recording were clear and unmistakable.
Both Jones and Alderink had worried expressions. The major stared at the FBI agent.
“Your bloody idea. Get us out of this.”
The agent reached under his jacket and grasped his weapon.
The major said, “Don’t even think about it—you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” He turned to Toby. “Sir, we’ve made a mistake. I apologize. I’ll escort you back to the main pedestrian corridors.” He opened the office door and looked out to his men. “Stand down—shit, what’s happening here?”
The smaller corridor was full of bots; they included heavy duty cleaners, sweepers, security bots, service bots—the list went on—and the bots were packed in as close as they could get to each soldier.
Toby looked out and said, “Friends of mine. Thank you, Major, I think we have our own escort. Please be more careful of your associates in future. Jones, your best option is early retirement, I suspect. Come on, Billie. Let’s get out of here.”
The bots opened up a path for Toby and Billie and then moved back to block the two men. Toby suspected they might be held there for some time.
oOo
Thank you for reading Body Shop. I hope you enjoyed the story—and if you did, please share your experience by adding a review to Amazon.
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About John Hindmarsh
I write fiction; mainly science fiction and thrillers, sometimes with crossover. Well, I claim you need a thrill in your science fiction and an occasional touch of science in your thrillers.
I’m Australian—I was actually the first Governor of South Australia (from December 1836 to October, 1838) so I’ve around for a century or two.
I mentioned I write fiction?
I’ve lived in England (plus a number of other countries—it’s a long list - Thailand, Singapore, Turkey, Netherlands, Ireland, UK, New Zealand, Australia, with side trips to places like Moscow, Copenhagen, etc.) All that stopped about five years ago and now live in the High Sierra region of California where I’m writing full time.
I have a muse that sits on my shoulder and beats me over the head with a cricket bat (think baseball bat, but flat) if I don’t take notice of its urgings.
I could be hiking, kayaking, or skiing when I’m not writing – if the muse allows me to take time off.
My books generally are written with an American voice [well, I try], although I prefer to write British English. So I get mixed up.
Let me know about possible errors—send your email to: [email protected]
Thrillers
Annihilation Series
The Annihilation series is my latest. There are four books, structured as technothrillers with a touch of politics and adventure. I focus on AI and SI [superintelligence] at an advanced level. So what happens when AIs and SIs are more advanced than humans? Read these books to find out:
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