Red Angel: Book III: Hijackers

by C. R. Daems

  "Ma'am, the team put together a template for interpreting the numbers and characters into page, sentence, and word, which I used to create a small program to apply against any text. We ran the sample from the Graeae against a few random books. It works. Of course, the results are a bit funny," Newman said, handing me his table, which had the output for each. "And the work Commander Leyva's group produced agrees with our model. So I think all we need is the book."

  "Great work," I said. "Master Chief, can you get me an appointment with Captain Choi? I think we are getting close to solving the HoBo problem."

  "Do you know the book, ma'am?" Cooper asked, giving me a hard stare.

  "No. But I think Captain Choi may be able to help, and my Master Chief is in a hurry for results."

  Everyone turned to look at Stamm, who gave a sharp nod.

  * * *

  The Officer on Deck, a young second lieutenant, wasn't sure what to do when he saw a commander, Marine colonel, and four Marines approaching—all armed.

  "Permission to come aboard," I said as I handed him my identification. "I believe Captain Choi is expecting me."

  "Yes, ma'am," he said after a cursory examination of my ID. "Petty Officer Scarwell will escort you to the Captain's office."

  I waited for Pannell and his detail to get cleared before waving for the petty officer to go. The guard had the door open when we arrived and Pannell and I entered and saluted.

  "Are you planning another trip?" he asked as he waved to his sideboard. I fetched a cup of coffee and sat.

  "No, sir. I have a favor to ask," I said, and sipped my coffee as Choi came around his desk and sat in the chair facing me.

  "You have unlimited credit in addition to your P1A authority. Although ridding the UAS of foreign aggressors is very rewarding, the opportunity to destroy a FPU cruiser is a rare and exciting event. And you led us to three. So, what can I do for you?"

  "This is personal and I won't ask if you aren't comfortable doing it." I held his stare until he nodded.

  "The HoBos and their contacts use a code which is based on having a specific book available to decipher it. I believe my team has the algorithm so all we need is to find the book or text they are using. If I could have a sample of the books or text material five or so Marines have on their CDC or tablets, we would have the book we are after." I looked to Choi, whose face was expressionless, but I could feel his apprehension. "I don't need the individuals' names or the specific books or material. I'm convinced it's common material and readily available. I only want the name of the book or material that the majority have on their tablets, or in their room. If you can't, I will understand. It's not a question of finding it. It's a question of how long it will take to find."

  "Captain," Pannell surprised me by interrupting. "The HoBos from the Graeae set fire to the Paulus’s residence last night and had snipers waiting for her and her mother to exit."

  "I hadn't heard that. Did anyone get hurt?"

  "No. We have a safe room so we chose to stay in the house."

  "I wasn't hesitating because I don't want to help. I was debating how to go about helping. I trust you, Anna. I don't believe you would participate in a witch hunt," Choi said. "I believe Colonel Sanchez will also want to help. I'll get back to you as soon as I know something."

  * * *

  "We are in luck," Sergeant Carrillo said when he entered his sleeping quarters that evening and found Lacroix and Saavedra there playing cards. Both men looked up and laid down their cards.

  "Five million lucky?" Lacroix asked, leaning back in his chair and taking a swallow of his drink.

  "The Ceto just docked at the space station. Although it will reduce our shares, six of us will have more options than three. Paulus hasn't been relocated, indicating her house has a basement or safe room, so our plan won't work. Besides, they are going to be extra alert now. Therefore, we're forced to attack her in the NIA building or as she is entering or leaving," Carrillo said. Lacroix and Saavedra slowly nodded agreement.

  "I can scrape by on eight hundred thousand and change," Lacroix said and laughed. "And it's safer with six."

  "Good. I'll let our contact know we want a meet with the Ceto HoBos," Carrillo said and got out his tablet, then shook his head and closed it. "I'll use the recreation room. It's safer. The money is no good if we are in prison." He left the room. At the recreation room, he logged onto the Eastar Nightclub website and sent the message:

  WANT MEET WITH CETO AT GOLDEN LADY AT NOON.

  * * *

  Carrillo recognized Sergeant Brogan's broad shoulders, craggy face, and square jaw right away. He was sitting with two men in their thirties who looked tall and in good condition. They were engrossed in watching three women bouncing around the stage while singing. The singing was fair but the shaking and bouncing was excellent. One of the men nudged Brogan when he saw Carrillo striding toward their table. Brogan looked up and snorted.

  "You can join us if you’re buying the next round," Brogan said and waved Carrillo to the empty chair. He didn't introduce the other men, who just nodded.

  "I assume you know the reward for the puppy has gone up," Carrillo said as he sat and caught the waitress's eye.

  "I heard you found the puppy but it got away." Brogan laughed. That must have brought tears to your eyes.

  "You bet. That puppy has teeth and is as slippery as a greased otter. We wondered if you would like to join the search party. Less reward but better odds of finding it without getting bit."

  Brogan looked to the two men, who gave imperceptible nods. "You have your search team with you?" Brogan asked.

  "Yes. Let go someplace where there are fewer distractions and we can hear ourselves talk," Carrillo said. When Brogan nodded, the four men left, got their cars, and left the city for an out-of-the-way hotel where Carrillo had booked a suite.

  * * *

  I had just arrived home when my CDC buzzed, indicating a priority message. I smiled when I saw it was from Choi.

  TO: ANNA PAULUS.

  SINCE YOU LOVE CRUISER DUTY SO MUCH, I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT ENJOY READING THE ATTACHED MANUAL. IT'S MANDATORY READING FOR ALL CREW.

  FROM: CHOI

  Dashing up the stairs to my office, I threw myself into my chair, opened my tablet, and downloaded the file. Then I ran Odom's application he dubbed Tangles against the coded message and held my breath as the application began to deliver word after word:

  WANTED DEAD-COMMANDER ANNA PAULUS-FIVE MILLION CREDITS

  Bolting upright, I stood staring down at my tablet. The message a raging fire in my mind and hindering me from forming a coherent thought. Alexa's voice jerked me back to the present.

  "Anna, you look pale. Is there anything wrong?" she asked, taking a couple of steps into the room. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want her to see the message, as it would cause her…unbelievable stress. But I didn't like lying or hiding things from her. So I stood frozen with indecision. My mind still a smoldering ember.

  "I need a minute, Mother," I said feeling my legs shaking and my head throbbing.

  "I think not." Alexa rushed over and grabbed me, pulling me into her warm embrace. I cried. Not for me, but for Alexa and the trouble I continued to cause her. She didn't deserve the stress and worry. Before I realized it, she had maneuvered me into my bedroom and onto the bed. She sat next to me, holding my hand but saying nothing. She had the patience of a saint.

  "Mother—" I began.

  "Rest, Anna. Decide what you want or don't want to tell me. There is no rush."

  I leaned over and put my head in her lap and cried. I think I fell asleep because the room was dark when I woke. I lay wrapped in Alexa's arms, with Red lying around both our necks. A clear message, I laughed mentally at attributing human traits to Red—the psychologists would claim I was anthropomorphizing and a clear sign I was repressing something, or had some complex or other, or… But Red did too many strange and uncharacteristic things—things even pets like dogs or monkeys wouldn't do. I don't know w
hat Red is or isn't, but he is special and I trust he and I are together for a reason.

  "Mother," I whispered.

  "Yes, Daughter?" she whispered.

  "The HoBos have put a large reward on me." I thought I'd ease into it, having decided Alexa would not only want, but deserved, to know. What difference really. She and I already knew they wanted me dead, the amount didn't change the threat.

  "Is that all?" She snorted. "Proves they are scared, and they have a right to be."

  I was speechless. "Thank you, Mother. I think the space gods sent you and Red to me."

  "Let's go eat, I'm starved. And you can bring me up to date on how close you are to giving them their just reward." Alexa smiled as she helped me rise. During dinner I explained about Odom's application and how Choi had found the book the HoBos and their contacts were using to pass instructions.

  "What's next?" Alexa asked, scooping up a spoonful of bread pudding. "I know you are reluctant to spy on the crew or to conduct a general investigation. You could shut down their contacts since you know or can find out who they are, but you don't want to leave the HoBos loose."

  "Worse yet, we don't want the people in charge of the HoBo organization to go free," I said, thinking he or she or they were the head of the Medusa. With the head off, the vipers would die. Before I went to bed, I notified Pannell.

  TO: COLONEL PANNELL

  RUMOR HAS IT THE PRICE FOR ME IS NOW FIVE MILLION.

  FROM: COMMANDER PAULUS

  I didn’t want to mention that we had deciphered the HoBo's code—extreme paranoia.

  * * *

  With Lulltrel's permission, I invited my staff to her weekly staff meeting. When I entered everyone was standing around, realizing I had something big to announce since my staff was there.

  "Attention," Spalding shouted as Lulltrel strode into the room, almost on my heels.

  "Sit. Paulus, I don't like surprises. What's up?" She sounded annoyed but felt apprehensive and concerned.

  "Sorry, ma'am, but I thought the issue would be best discussed with everyone present, since it involved the Owlet Project and how to move forward." I waited for her to nod. "My staff deciphered the algorithm that the HoBos are using to communicate with their contracts. Using that algorithm, Commander Odom developed an application to run against the messages. However, the code is based on a specific book, so without knowing the book, neither the algorithm nor the application was useful. I talked with Captain Choi, since I was sure it was some book or manual that every Marine and crew member had easy access. Last night he sent me the official manual for crew serving on a UAS cruiser. I ran the message the Graeae received when the HoBos logged on to their contract's website when they docked the other day." I clicked on my CDC and the message appeared on each of the room's monitors.

  WANTED DEAD-COMMANDER ANNA PAULUS-FIVE MILLION CREDITS

  A cold silence pervaded the room as individuals looked from the monitor to me and back.

  "I'm seeking ideas on how we go about identifying the individuals," I said and sat.

  "We should sequester you someplace safe while we work on the problem," Lulltrel said and looked to Pannell.

  "I agree with you, Admiral, but Paulus doesn't—"

  "Why not?" Lulltrel glared at me.

  "Ma'am. The Owlet team is terrific and I'm confident you will eventually identify them all. But who is focused on the head of the organization? Without identifying that person or group, the organization will regenerate or morph into something else, and I would have to hide for the rest of my life. I'd rather stay and help crush the organization."

  Lulltrel sat quietly while sipping her coffee for several minutes as she silently evaluated each person in the room, then her gaze seemed far off in thought.

  "Any thoughts?" she finally asked.

  "Ma'am," Newman began. "Commander Paulus is like a topnotch coach, focusing us on the real problem and directing our efforts. I know if I were the Easter NIA Station chief, you still wouldn't know there were Hijackers and HoBos."

  To my embarrassment, most everyone was nodding agreement, including Lulltrel.

  "Newman is right. I selected her for the Eastar post for just that reason. So if she is crazy enough to want to stay active, I should let her. Pannell?"

  "Ma'am," Pannell said, clearly frustrated and concerned. "The Ceto and the Graeae are docked at the Eastar spaceport."

  "Hadley, retrieve the last messages from the Graeae and Ceto," I interrupted, excited that we now had a way of knowing what they were saying. Hadley was busy on her tablet for several minutes, then looked up and smiled.

  "I've sent the messages to Commander Odom," she said, looking to Odom who was bent over his tablet. Less than a minute later the messages were displayed on the overhead monitors.

  To the Ceto with a timestamp of eighteen hundred hours yesterday morning:

  WANTED DEAD-COMMANDER ANNA PAULUS-FIVE MILLION CREDITS

  From the Graeae with a timestamp of one hundred hours today:

  WANT MEET WITH CETO AT GOLDEN LADY AT NOON.

  "Interesting. The Ceto checked in with their Internet contact within minutes of docking and were notified of the bounty on Paulus. When the Greaeae found the Ceto was in port, they decided to contact them for an alliance, since their attempt to kill Paulus had failed," Lulltrel said, as if thinking out loud. "Paulus?"

  "Ma'am, the attempt at Westar succeeded because they were smarter than us and we weren't expecting it. The attempt at Oxax failed because we were expecting it and we proved smarter than they. At Eastar we have the advantage," I said to a variety of snorts, coughs, and jaw-dropping expressions, "since we are expecting an attempt on my life. We just need to be smarter than they."

  "And you are willing to bet your life on it?" Lulltrel asked. I turned to look at Pannell, who looked a bit pale. "Yes, I trust Colonel Pannell and I can outsmart the HoBos."

  Lulltrel stopped to have a short conversation with Pannell before leaving. Everyone took that as an opportunity to cluster around me.

  "How can we help?" Byrnes asked to eager faces and nodding heads.

  "I will limit my movements to home and the NIA building. Since attacking my house didn't work, I believe they will try entering the building or to engage me as I enter or leave the building. So question everyone you don't know. They are very crafty and have the money to buy credentials and access. And," I laughed, "send me any ideas on how you and five Marines would kill someone working in this building. I'm not being morbid. If we are prepared, we win and they lose."

  "Paul, I'm sorry to put you in this position, but hiding won't solve the problem," I said, knowing everyone would hold him accountable if I got killed, regardless of the impossible odds of protecting me against every possible threat."

  He laughed. "You're worried about me when it's your life on the line." He shook his head. "I like your idea of brainstorming possible threats."

  "First, I think they are good Marines, not people, and don't like killing Marines. Therefore, I think bombs are unlikely…" We spent the rest of the day considering possible threats.

  * * *

  "How did it go at work?" Alexa asked as we sat eating two stuffed small game birds.

  "Everyone wants to focus on the wrong issue," I said, barely tasting the food which I'd wager was far better than most restaurants.

  "What's that?"

  "The contract on me," I said, and Alexa choked.

  "The HoBos have far more to fear than they know. If I were the head of the organization, I'd make the reward double or triple. You and Red are scary."

  "You, mother, Red, and me," I amended. "You keep me sane. Without you, they would win."

  Alexa rose and came behind my chair, gave me a hug, and kissed my head. "All right then, tell me what your brainstorming session with Paul produced. Let's see if I'm as sneaky as you two.

  * * *

  Pannell insisted that I wear a protective vest and, if I could, keep Red inside the vest. I agreed and didn't mind as I knew the att
empt would occur within a day or two, since the Ceto and the Graeae had been informed they would only be in port a few days, at Pannell’s and my request. We had decided that would force them to act quickly, which would give them less time to prepare and give us a better idea of when the attempt would happen.

  "What are your top two scenarios?" Pannell asked as we rode the combat shuttle to the NIA building the next morning.

  "If I were them, I would want to evacuate the NIA building. That should be easy—an anonymous bomb threat, fire, or minor explosion," I said, having considered the suggestions people sent me and a long discussion with Alexa. "Then two options. If I leave the building, a shooter has an opportunity to target me. If I don't, an inside man or woman has a wider set of opportunities in an empty building."

  "Wider set?"

  "They don't appear eager to kill Marines and I believe that extends to civilians. If I'm correct, that means they wouldn't throw a grenade into a crowd. Besides, in a crowd a bomb wouldn't be guaranteed to kill me—too many people in the way. A bomb in a building is more likely to be effective, and they could verify the result."

  "I don't like all the assumptions you're making, but I tend to agree. Going to and from the shuttle is more risky for them because I have two combat shuttles and one remains in the air. If any one of them is wounded or killed, it could result in the entire group getting identified. So their plan has to take that into account," Pannell said.

  "The two most likely scenarios, then, are to sneak someone into the building and try to catch me alone, in case I stayed in the building when it was evacuated, or somehow catch me when I evacuated with everyone," I said, summarizing what we had been theorizing.

  "Sounds right. However, how do they kill you if you evacuate? Lots of people standing around," Pannell asked, trying to outguess his opponents.

  "Diversion of some kind," I suggested, not having a clue.