Clancy,Tom - Net Force - Cybernation.txt

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by Cybernation(lit)


  The business Missy wanted him to handle? Well, that was of small importance. One man who needed to have a bad accident. He didn't even have to die, merely be put out of commission for a month or two. Easy as falling out of a tree.

  He made a point of swinging by the computer rooms just before lunchtime. He saw Keller with two of his people as they headed for the private cafeteria. Keller was laughing at something one of the others said.

  Keller looked up, saw Santos.

  Santos gave Keller a quick two-fingered salute, a how- you-doin'-amigo? gesture, nothing the least bit threatening in it. He smiled.

  Keller went pale, as if somebody had just punched him in the belly.

  Santos didn't stop. He turned away and ambled off down the corridor. All he'd wanted to do was make Jackson aware that he knew. That was enough, for now. Let him sweat a while, worry that maybe something hard was coming. Because it was coming, no question. There were some lines you did not cross, and Jackson had crossed one. He knew it. How much it would cost, when, where, he did not know. And that was part of the payment, too.

  Santos hummed to himself as he headed for the helipad. Good day, so far. Real good.

  20

  Force HQ co, Virginia

  i sat at Alex's desk, going over operations reports. She I to be back. She'd forgotten how interesting this ; was in the time she'd been away. As Alex's assisIshe had been privy to the inner workings of the na- jp computer business, all kinds of information the : citizen didn't even know existed had come across sk. When she'd quit-over a mistaken supposition had been too idiotic to correct-she hadn't work, because almost immediately she'd had an from the director to start a job for the mainline FBI. ^pregnancy, then the baby, had stopped that. It had f the better part of a year, and she'd lost a few steps, fit was like riding a bicycle-the basic balance was = there, and with a little practice, she'd be rolling tily again pretty fast.

  felt a quick stab of guilt. Did that make her a bad that she wanted to work? Shouldn't she be at doing mommy things, putting all this away until

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  Little Alex was old enough to go off to school? It wasn't as if they needed the money. And she did miss the baby, that was true. But her husband needed her, too, and what' was she to do? Guru had showed up, and that had seemed j like some kind of sign.

  Still, she worried.

  Well, it was only temporary, after all. A few days, a | week, until the crisis was over, that was all...

  "Boss still testifying?" Jay said from the doorway.

  "I think so," she said. "Anything new on your front?"

  "Yes and no. I'm on the right track, I got ambushed in VR again. But this time, I surprised the sucker. Didn't get a solid lead, unfortunately."

  "Win some, lose some."

  "Oh, this one ain't won or lost yet. Too early. But I have some feelers out on the CyberNation gambling ship, down in the Caribbean, and I'm expecting those to come in later today."

  "You think they are responsible?"

  "Gut-check? Yes. Proof? None."

  "Lay it out for me."

  "Sure." He came in, flopped down on the couch. He started ticking points off on his fingers: "One, CyberNation has a lot to gain if people switch to diem because of net woes. Two, CyberNation has the talent to pull this kind of thing off. I don't have a complete list of their programmers and weavers, but I've seen their public face, and it is very slick, uses all the latest language. Three, their advertisements increased just about the time all this started, a vigorous campaign to sign up new members, stressing the integrity of their systems. Four, there's that connection with the casino ship and the dead guy from Blue Whale. Five, I haven't found anybody better, and I've been looking real hard."

  "Circumstantial and iffy," she said.

  "Hey, I got another whole hand of fingers here. Six, CyberNation is pushing on other fronts. They have a powerful lobby working in D.C., and in various major coun-

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  i around the world. Isn't that what the boss is over on ?Hill about today? Problems with the net that rNation claims it can cure?" shrugged. "So what are seven, eight, nine, and

  '. haven't filled those in yet," Jay said, grinning. "But i working on it."

  ow are the wedding plans coming?" i smile faded. "Okay, I guess." ting cold feet?" it? No!"

  y. I was just joking."

  : didn't speak for a moment. Then he said, "Did you? ;-cold feet, I mean?"

  "lot really. Of course, I was pregnant, and I didn't : to have the baby by myself."

  i."

  ey, look, it's only natural to worry about making changes in your life. I wanted to get married, but I ? think about it. Alex was married before-what if I |'t measure up to his first wife? And he's got a daugh- from that marriage, a great kid, but I had to wonder, I he going to be thinking about her when he looked at ild? It's not like buying a new pair of shoes, is it?" Mo."

  fou should talk to Julio Fernandez. He got married a lot of years on his own, he had to make some stments." . was thinking that. I mean, I want to be with Saji, no

  on, it's just, I dunno, scary sometimes." Welcome to the human race, computer-boy." ^Thanks."

  t Howard looked at the computer log and stack of hard on his desk and shook his head. Forms and clogged

  ', boxes were the bane of military officers everywhere, they had to be attended to for the command to con:

  working, and mostly, he managed to pass a signifi-

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  cant amount of paper shuffling and signing off to senior officers on his staff, but if you'missed a few days, your piece of it always grew, it never shrank. He'd been at it for an hour and a half, and hadn't really made much of a dent.

  How important was most of this junk? An invitation to speak at an upscale military school in Mississippi? He knew the school. Enrollment was ninety percent white males, with a few women and minority students sprinkled in to keep things legal. Yes, he was the commanding military officer of Net Force, but they didn't want him-he'd bet dollars to dimes they didn't know he was black. It might be amusing to show up just to see the expressions on their faces. Then again, that wasn't worth a trip to Mississippi, was it?

  Another e-mail was a cc notification from the NF Quartermaster from a military supplier in Maine that there was a recall on part number MS-239-45/A, due to possible stress fractures in materials that might lead to failure in critical situations. The Quartermaster would have already addressed the situation, but it still sounded worth knowing about. A man needed to see where his troops might be at risk.

  A check of the Net Force parts catalogue, which naturally changed the supplier's part number to their own designation, NF-P-154387, showed the part in question to be the "flexible containment system locking device for a Model B dorsal-unit personal supply and equipment carrier." After years of military jargon, that one was easy: They were talking about the plastic buckle on a backpack strap. The B-model had been in service for approximately three years, according to the computer file, and had been superseded by the C-model.

  If the buckles on the old packs hadn't busted by now, then it probably wasn't going be a problem that would bring the Net Force strike teams to their knees.

  And how many man-hours had been lost to this tidbit?

  Here was a directive from the U.S. National Guard re

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  I directive from the General Accounting Office, ; the dkective from the Department of Defense's and Updated Guidelines for Officers Regarding i Harassment, -please. How relevant to anything was a directive

  directive about a directive about guidelines? |iintercom chirped. "Yes?" " his secretary said. "Lieutenant Fernandez to see

  had just left a couple hours ago, but anything to ; of this drudgery. "Send him in." ' arrived, s?"

  jjf. I'd hate to tear you away from all this excitement, p've got a new shipment of goodies and there-are a : of t
hings you might enjoy seeing." fpeally need to get this done," he said. He waved at

  ii're the general, General." He started to leave, lit a second, I'll go with you. This can wait." i grinned. "I thought it might." i.,they walked out, Julio said, "I ran into Jay Gridley i the hall a few minutes ago. He seems to be a little us about his upcoming nuptials." at did you tell him?"

  being married is worse than death by Chinese torture, of course. That if I had it to do all over

  , I'd jump in front of a speeding train before I said

  " "

  jfou're a braver man than I thought, Lieutenant. What

  : somehow gets back to Joanna?" E'll deny having said it to my last breath." Mch wouldn't be long in coming if she thought you :h a thing."

  chuckled. "I'm a career military man, sir. Not i she could do would scare me."

  could make you watch little Hoo on your poker

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  "I was only joking. I told Gridley that. I also told him it was natural that he should feel nervous about taking the big step. That everybody does."

  "I never did," Howard said. "Never crossed my mind."

  "And you were what-twelve when you got married? Never had a room of your own, much less a life before you met Nadine. You didn't have anything to give up, except your virginity, now did you, sir?"

  Howard laughed. "Unlike you, who lived alone so long that you had to relearn how to pick your socks up because you had never had to do that before? No, I knew Nadine was the best thing that was ever going to happen to me. Just like Joanna is the best thing that ever happened to you."

  "Yes, sir. But don't let that get back to her, either. I'd never hear the end of it if she knew that was true."

  "She knows, Lieutenant, she knows."

  If he had had time, Santos would have taken the train up from Florida to the District of Columbia. The East Coast trains usually ran pretty well, they were clean, and it was relaxing to watch the country roll past your window at a speed where you could see much of it. The trip would have taken most of the day, and he could have gotten up, moved around, stretched out, eaten, drank, enjoyed the drone of wheels on steel.

  But time was a luxury he seemed to have too little of, so he caught the jet shuttle, and what would have been a relaxing all-day ride became a two-hour hop. Not counting the forty-five minutes they circled the airport, waiting to land.

  He rented a car at the airport. The car was a full-sized sedan, as big as they had, and he took out full insurance coverage on it. The name on the card he used matched the name of his fake driver's license, both of which had been issued to a man in Georgia a few weeks ago. The card and license had not been used before, and the man whose name was on them had not reported them missing,

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  j he had been dead before they were issued. It was a ill way to move around semi-legitimately. Some- in CyberNation's computer hutch had figured this papplying for credit cards and duplicate licenses in the of the recently departed who already had such before the family thought to let anybody know. The ; rented post office boxes, applied under several dif- : names, and had the cards sent there. Once they had used for a few days, the IDs could be tossed into

  est trash bin. Very neat, no way to trace them, j drove to a local hotel. He wore a suit and tie, carried and registered at the hotel, which catered to ssmen, looking as if he was one of them. Just an- middle-class white-collar worker earning his living, : to remember.

  briefcase contained not papers, however, but the [coins he had gotten at such a bargain rate. While the at the metal detectors in the airport had been cu, they hadn't even bothered to open the case to look. I if they had, they could have done nothing, because was no law against carrying such things onto a . It wasn't as if he was going to beat somebody to with them, although technically that was possible. i fifteen or twenty of them into a sock, it would make e, hefty blackjack.

  he was checked into the hotel, he took a stroll, into a big drugstore, and bought a cheap dispos- I cell phone with thirty hours of credit on it. He used i to put in a call to his friend at the Brazilian Embassy, who could always used a little extra money, was to hear from him, and they arranged to meet for at a restaurant not far from the hotel, stween now and then, Santos had plenty of time to the information he had about his target. This one lid be simple, nothing complex about it at all. As soon ', had the gold transported, he would locate his quarry, f'then it was merely a matter of waiting for the proper at.

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  NET FORCE

  Hollywood, California

  Two tall and well-muscled black men in different NBA uniforms played one-on-one basketball in a gym bathed in supernal beams of sunshine pouring in from big skylights in the gym's roof. There was just enough dust in the air so the beams stood out, hard-edged and brilliant.

  The men were the hottest small forwards from both teams in last year's championship finals, all-stars, guys who routinely got triple-doubles when they played-ten or more shots, assists, and rebounds.

  The one with the ball was dressed in black shorts, shoes, and tank top, the other player in white-on-whiteon-white.

  The offensive player jinked left, then right, dribbled behind his back, and stutter-stepped, trying to get into position to shoot at the goal.

  The defensive player stayed with him, slapping at the ball. Two fine athletes at their peaks, beautiful to watch, even if you didn't follow the game.

  Both men sweated, fat drops that rolled and flew with their sudden moves.

  The offensive player faked right, then twirled around to his left and got past the player in white ...

  Time slowed to a crawl. The ball bounced slowly, took two seconds to come back from the floor to the shooter's hand. The sounds of heavy breathing grew louder, and when the ball hit the floor again, it sounded like a cannon -booml-deep and vibrant. The ball bounced up. The shooter caught it, jumped for the dunk, moving in glacial slow-mo, as the player in white leaped to block ...

  The pair drifted through the air, seemingly as weightless as the dust motes in the gym's air, floating oh-so- slowly toward the basket...

  Time speeded back up to normal.

  The offensive player slammed the ball down, playing well above the rim, and the net ka-thwipped! in that way

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  only when the dunk is perfect. The two players : down and smiled at each other, [rite Suit said, "Good move, brother." He slapped the

  on the shoulder, went to fetch the ball. Black Suit said, "Yeah, I still got a few. Here's another i for you-who's doing your Internet service?" hite Suit shrugged. "Same provider I always use." He

  the ball to the other man. llack Suit shook his head. "Naw, you need to lose that, I'm tight with CyberNation, it's the only place to

  yberNation? I heard of them."

  jfsl'm telling you, it's the way to go. They got VR so it'd help even you with your defense." got a cramp in my foot, is all. Try it again." Slack Suit laughed and walked away, dribbling. White : propped into a defensive crouch as the other player

  and started back toward him.

  pThe words CyberNation appeared under the screen, the URL. The scene faded to black, leaving the alone on the black background with the sound of fe dribbled ball echoing in the gym. The sound and im*"'*, held for five seconds, then faded out.

  PART TWO

  The Butterfly's Wings

  21

  tike Bon Chance

  nine Chance liked to be in charge, a big part of the she had taken this job. Here she was, with a cor: budget as big as the treasury in some small coun- , on a gambling ship she had named herself, and after don, for herself. She could, literally, decide matters fe and death. If that wasn't control, what was? But at I moment, with Jackson practically wetting himself, she ; a definite loss of mastery here, hey sat on the bed in her room. She'd thought sex going to be the main thing on his mind, but she ly realized she was wrong, le's going to beat t
he crap out of me," Jackson said, ow it."

  3n't be stupid." fou didn't see him, how he looked at me. I'm telling this is not somebody to mess around with. He might rell have sent me an invitation: You are cordially into

  a major ass-kicking-yours." "Jackson..."

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  "I'm not joking around here, Jasmine. This guy isn't civilized. Yeah, he wears a suit and smiles and can make small talk, but that's no thicker than a coat of paint. Underneath, he's a savage. He's a killer! He wouldn't think twice about sending me to the hospital, or the morgue."

  "He's just trying to rattle you, hon, that's.all. He knows how much we need you. He's playing with your head."

  "And he plans to be playing soccer with my balls. I'm telling you, I know."

  "You need to relax." She put her hand on his shoulder. The muscles there and in his neck were bunched like wet, knotted ropes.

  "Easy for you to say. Listen, I want off die ship. Let me go to the train."

  The train was one of the other two locations for CyberNation's mobile computer centers. Currently, it was on a siding in Germany, somewhere near the French border.

  "Keller-"

  "I can take my team there. It won't be any different. The hardware is the same, the software we built in the last day can be encoded and uploaded in a few hours. By the time it finishes downloading, we can be halfway there."

  "What will you tell your team?"

  "No need to tell them anything except they should pack their bags. They do what I say."

  "That's not the plan," she said.

  "Neither is getting my head stomped in by a jealous assassin!"

  She thought about it. It was the fight-or-flight syndrome. Maybe in his place, she could understand it. Still, it wouldn't really solve anything. What was to stop Rob- erto from hopping on a plane and dropping round to see Jackson on the train? When he had time to settle down and think about it, he'd see that. There was no safety in distance, not if somebody like Roberto really wanted to

 

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