The Aegis Solution

by John David Krygelski

  "No, thanks."

  As Rogan walked in, Pierce noticed an air of depression enveloping him like a cloud. Dropping into a chair near her, he sighed, "We've lost eight more."

  Pierce reacted to the news in much the same way that an overloaded mule might react to one more sack of goods being dropped onto its back. "That puts us down to less than forty."

  Rogan only nodded.

  Her voice flat, she asked, "Not that it matters, but do you have any idea why?"

  Rogan drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he replied, "I guess it was because of the electricity going out."

  "The electricity? That's all? We have candles, and it isn't too hot or too cold right now. I don't…."

  "Manager Pierce, you know it doesn't take much with our people. By the way, it's almost ironic, but Johnson just got back from a little patrol, and I guess that Walden is about the only part of Aegis without power."

  Her eyes widened slightly. "How is that possible?"

  "I don't know. I'm not an electrician. But I assume that when the solar panels on the roof were destroyed, breakers would have tripped, protecting the batteries and circuits. It seems that our breakers didn't trip quickly enough."

  

  "Ms. Stephenson?"

  Erin tilted her head so that she could see around Liz, the makeup artist preparing her for the late broadcast. "What is it, Amber?"

  "It's Rusty, from the National Weather Service. He wants to talk to you."

  "I can't right now. I go on the air in ten minutes."

  "I know. I told him that. But he said it was important."

  It only took Erin a moment to decide. "Bring a cordless to me."

  "Already did." The intern stepped closer, squeezing between the makeup tray and the chair, handing the cordless phone to her boss.

  Reaching up and brushing her blond hair behind her ear, eliciting a loud sigh from Liz, Erin lifted the phone and said, "Hello, Rusty."

  "Erin! Glad I caught you."

  "Is there something wrong?" she asked, as Liz continued to dab at the pancake makeup on her face.

  "You could say that. I'm sure your news department is probably aware of this. If they aren't, they will be soon."

  "Rusty, I've only got a minute or two…."

  Speaking more quickly, he continued, "We lost a plane."

  "What? What do you mean?"

  "I reported the anemometer readings to D.C., and they had the 53rd Weather Recon Squadron send a WC-130J to check out the situation. What they discovered was that the anomaly was centered on Aegis."

  "Aegis? The suicide tank?"

  "One and the same. All of the winds are radiating outward from that point."

  "How…? I don't understand, Rusty. How can winds blow outward in all directions from one point?"

  "I don't know, Erin. I wish I did. But it is definitely happening. And as they got close to the complex, the winds were approaching ninety miles an hour."

  Erin went blank. She had no idea what to ask next. Then she remembered his initial comment. "You said you lost a plane?"

  Before he could answer, the assistant director, ignoring the protests from Liz, pushed his way in next to the makeup chair and urged, "Erin, we need you on the set."

  The tension of the moment caused Erin's emotions to flare. "I'll be there when I can!" she barked uncharacteristically.

  Unaccustomed to this sort of an outburst from her, the assistant director backed off, mumbling something to the effect that she should hurry, and then he scooted away, talking excitedly into the mouthpiece arced around his cheek.

  Returning her attention to the phone, she began again. "Rusty, sorry about that. Tell me about the plane. What happened?"

  "We don't have all the details yet. Those things are built to fly inside hurricanes, so I can't even imagine what happened. In our last communication with them, they were about to enter the center zone."

  She could hear him cover the mouthpiece of the phone and begin speaking to someone else. A few seconds later he spoke into the phone. "Erin, I've got to go. I'm heading out there now."

  Once more, she only took an instant to make her decision. "Rusty, pick me up. I'm going with you."

  

  The technician pulled back on the manipulator gloves and slipped her hands out of them, picking up a cotton towel and vigorously rubbing her face.

  "Yolanda, why is it the minute I put the gloves on, my face starts to itch?" she asked the technician at the station beside her.

  The other woman laughed. "Psychological, Syndi. You know you can't scratch it, so it itches. Remember, this is much better than the full suits."

  Standing, Syndi agreed, "That's true. Well, I'm done. Thirteen hours is long enough."

  "I hear you. I'm about ready myself. I still can't believe they're having us retest."

  "Guess they figure after two years of storage, they'd better make sure it still works."

  Syndi left, and Yolanda completed the medium transfer she was working on. She pulled back on the gloves to extricate her own hands, and noticed an unusual tug as she freed her right hand. Looking down, she muttered, "Damn!" On her right wrist was a gold-plated charm bracelet, a gift from her sister and strictly forbidden in the lab.

  Nervously, she unclasped the bracelet and dropped it into her pocket, angling her body to obscure what she had done from the ceiling-mounted camera, which was behind her and to the left. Glad that she was the last person in the lab, she pulled out the right glove a bit farther and examined the portion of it that had been adjacent to the bracelet.

  She did not want to lean down and stare at it closely, as that would be too obvious on the security camera. With the inspection Yolanda was able to do, the material looked intact. She did not notice any tear or snag in the laminated and reinforced fabric.

  The tension of the near catastrophe was causing her to sweat profusely. She picked up the cotton towel from the neighboring station and mopped her face and neck, before getting up and hurriedly departing the lab.

  

  "I'm guessing you did connect with our colleague from Mossad."

  "I did," Elias answered tersely.

  Wistfully, Stone continued, "That's the weakness with intel – never the full picture. We thought he had tried to set up a meeting but it hadn't happened yet."

  "You and Faulk have too much faith in your technology and your own competence. I knew I was being watched. I knew my emails were read and my phones were all monitored. When I heard from Benjamin, I used an intermediary, made a blind drop."

  "Ah, yes," Stone said, shaking his head, "the old-fashioned way."

  "Everyone has become far too dependent on electronics. You've got whole rooms full of people staring at computer monitors, waiting for the other guy to make a call, text a message, use a chat room, or send an email. There's nothing like pen and paper, transported by a person you can rely upon."

  "How did you meet him? After he left you that voice mail, we were watching him, too…every minute of the day."

  "I didn't say that I did, only that we connected. I sent him a message, using the drop, telling him that he was also being watched. As you said, the old-fashioned way. Benjamin sat down, handwrote everything he had learned, and the courier, someone I knew I could trust, brought it back."

  Stone chuffed, a sound of disgust. "So I suppose you think you know it all."

  "I have no idea if I know it all, and I don't care. I know about the lab. I know why you killed Leah. And I know Faulk is behind all of it."

  The one reaction Elias did not expect from his erstwhile friend was the one he got. Stone laughed, the sound echoing off the concrete walls of the raceway. "It would be generous to say that you only know the tip of the iceberg. But even what you think you've figured out is wrong."

  "Why don't you enlighten me?"

  "Why don't you go to hell?"

  "The only person going to hell in the next few minutes will be you. I'm just giving you a chance to clear things up
for me before you go."

  Stone stared at Elias for a moment. "Sure. Why not? You already know that Mossad raided a Taliban nest in the West Bank. There was only one survivor, Bassam. You also know that Bassam was Khalid's number-two man. Our Israeli friends don't have the weak stomach that we have as far as using effective interrogation methods, so Bassam talked his head off. He told Benjamin about the lab. He told him that Leah had found out about it and she had to die. How am I doing, so far?"

  "He also told Benjamin that it was you who came up with the idea for the missile strike."

  "He's right. It was. It was perfect. It got rid of Leah and gave Khalid a perfect PR story for the whole world."

  Elias felt his finger tighten on the trigger. With monumental effort, he relaxed the pressure.

  Acting as if he were oblivious to the fury building in Elias, Stone inquired, "Tell me, Elias, what did Bassam disclose to Benjamin about the lab?"

  Even through the self-induced fog of his rage, Elias was unsettled by something in Stone's demeanor, something he could not quite identify.

  "That Faulk and others were operating a bio-weapon lab, in violation of our laws and international treaties."

  Elias saw a slight smile play across Stone's face. "That's it?"

  "That and the fact that the lab was on the verge of perfecting a new aerosol agent."

  Although he had the muzzle of an automatic rifle aimed at his chest, Stone relaxed. Elias, noticing this, sensed that he was running out of time. "Eric, where's the lab?"

  This last question from Elias caused Stone to break out in a broad grin. "Elias, thank you. Your question was the last answer I needed from you. Now you only have one remaining function to fulfill."

  Sensing the muscles in his back and neck tighten, Elias suddenly felt at a disadvantage but still was not sure why. All at once, his thoughts crystallized. He shifted the barrel of the AK-47 downward so that it pointed at Stone's leg, and pulled the trigger. He heard only a single click. At that moment, Stone stuck his fingers into his pants pocket and pulled something out, tossing it on the floor between them. It fell with a metallic clatter, coming to rest inches from Elias' feet. It only took him a moment to recognize it.

  "If you're going to shoot one of those things, Elias, it helps to have the firing pin installed."

  As Elias was about to charge at him, Stone slid his hand behind his back and pulled out the 9mm.

  "Stop!" Stone snapped.

  Elias froze in mid-stride.

  Taking in a deep breath, Elias asked, "Eric, why? What turned you?"

  With a vicious snarl, Stone answered, "We don't have that kind of time. And I doubt that you would understand, anyway. Leah sure didn't."

  The final threshold had been reached. Stone had made one too many references to Elias' wife for him to be able to keep a lid on his emotions. Despite the fact that Stone was holding him at gunpoint, Elias threw the useless AK-47 at him, charging directly behind it, not caring at that moment whether he lived or died. His mind registered the slight elevating of the pistol…the slow tightening of the finger on the trigger. Stone was too well trained to panic and snap off a hasty shot. More than half the distance between them was closed, when Elias heard the thunderous crack and roar of the discharge. Pure adrenaline kept his legs moving forward as he waited for the effects of the bullet ripping through his chest to register.

  Inexplicably, he saw Stone's head explode into a cloud of pink mist, the already dead body toppling, the 9mm tumbling to the floor, unfired. Unable to counter his emotion-charged momentum, he slammed into the halfway-fallen body of Stone, with both himself and the body crashing down.

  Pushing the inert form away, Elias scrambled to his feet and swung around, trying to figure out who had intervened.

  From the darkness of the raceway from which he had arrived, he heard a familiar voice. "This saving your life thing is getting a little old."

  Tillie stepped into the dim light, a bolt-action rifle resting casually on her shoulder.

  She walked to where Elias was standing and looked down at the body. "Elias, I'm sorry."

  With his ragged breathing, the hammering of his heartbeat in his head, and the ringing in his ears from the rifle shot in the confined area, Elias was barely able to hear her soft apology. "You're sorry? For what? You saved my life…again."

  She looked up at him. "I know you wanted to be the one to do it."

  He could not help but chuckle at her perceptiveness. "This'll do just fine."

  "I tried. I was standing back there listening, waiting for you to get your shot. I only pulled the trigger once it was obvious that you didn't have a chance."

  "I appreciate it. But you probably didn't have to cut it quite so close."

  "Hey! I saved your butt again and you're complaining?"

  "No, no, I take it back," Elias backpedaled, holding up his hands defensively. "How did you know?"

  She glanced down at the dead Eric Stone one more time. "I'd really be happy to tell you, but I'm not as inured to this kind of stuff as you are. Could we head back?"

  "Sure. Let me grab a couple of things."

  He began to walk to the shoulder pack that held the firebombs, when Tillie volunteered, "I'll get that."

  "Still don't trust me, huh?"

  "Let's say, you've got enough to carry."

  With a shake of his head, Elias returned to the laptop and disconnected all of the feed wires for the surveillance equipment, packed it in its carrying case, and hooked it over his shoulder. He pocketed the smartphone and snatched up the canvas pouch filled with rations and a bladder full of water. He returned to Tillie as she finished wrestling the heavy pack onto her back. Elias bent over and picked up the 9mm and the AK-47, remembering to grab the firing pin.

  "Ready?" she asked.

  "Let's go."

  As they walked away, she began to explain, "I never trusted him."

  "I could tell."

  "I don't know why. Maybe I'm psychic or whatever. But I never felt right about him. And then you asked me how he tested the bomb gel, and I could tell in your eyes that something wasn't right. Besides, he was way too dumb."

  Laughing, Elias replied, "What do you mean?"

  "You know, his questions. Always asking all of us questions. He didn't seem to have anything figured out, and that didn't make sense for someone who is supposedly a hotshot secret agent and who had more than two months to sit and think."

  "Good point. When did he have the time to break down that AK-47 and remove the pin?"

  "That's easy. Remember, as soon as we got back from our tour of the storm system, he...."

  "That's right," he interrupted. "Eric excused himself and was gone quite a while."

  "Too long, considering that he didn't shake off any sand. Later, I got into the bed after he'd been on it, and it was full of the stuff."

  They were almost back to Tillie's den, before Elias remarked, "There was one more thing."

  "What's that?"

  "After you were lying down and, I guess, pretending to fall asleep, Eric and I talked for a minute or two. I asked him a question, and his answer has been bothering me ever since."

  "What was his answer?"

  "Well, that's just it. It wasn't the answer itself; it was the phrase he used. He said, ‘Insufficient data at this time.'"

  "I don't get it."

  "That's not a typical phrase. And I've it heard twice since I've come to Aegis."

  "Twice?"

  "Yes. The last time from Eric. The time before from Wilson."

  "I still don't see the big deal. Eric probably heard Wilson say it, and liked it. That is the way the old man talks, you know."

  "I know. And I think you're right. I think Eric did hear Wilson say it, and either he liked it or it simply stuck unconsciously."

  "So…?"

  "Wilson used the phrase when he and I were talking alone. It was while you were out looking for Eric."

  Tillie stopped walking and turned to face Elias. "You think the
y've been listening in on us?"

  Elias shrugged. "I don't know. It may be nothing. And now Wilson's shack is only cinders. But I think we should check out your place."

  Tillie turned and took the remaining few steps into her makeshift home, looking around at all of the ductwork, piping, and junction boxes which filled the walls and ceiling. "Between all of this stuff and all of my pretties that I've hung everywhere, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack."

  Elias stood next to her, surveying the space. "You're right. We'd never find it unless we were unbelievably lucky."

  Hearing them talk, Wilson shook his head to clear it from the slumber and asked, "Look for what? Where's Eric?"

  Tillie held up one finger in front of her lips to silence Wilson as they both took him by the arms and walked him several yards out into one of the passageways, where they, in whispered tones, filled him in on the last several minutes. After they finished, Wilson softly said, "That makes much more sense than the puzzle pieces I was struggling to assemble before."

  "We've got a lot to talk about before we make our next move. But my base is out of the question. Eric and Faulk both knew about it. And now that Eric's been at Tillie's, we can't stay here. Your shack is gone, Wilson. We need a new place."

  "I agree," Wilson concurred. "Tillie, you know Aegis better than anyone. Can you think of a logical base camp?"

  "It needs to be easy to defend," Elias added, "and close to the electrical raceways, mechanical passageways, and plenums, as well as the main corridors. We may need a variety of options."

  The two men watched as her mind reviewed the layout. With a quiet huff of exasperation, she uttered, "Hell, we're going to need them, anyway."

  "Need what?"

  Rather than answering Elias' question, she abruptly turned and trotted back into her living area. He hurried behind her, followed by Wilson. Her first stop was a drawer in the kitchen area, from which she removed a screwdriver. Closing the drawer, she hurried to the far corner of the space where a green steel box was bolted to the concrete floor. In red letters, a warning was stenciled – DANGER ~ HIGH VOLTAGE – immediately adjacent to a yellow sticker of a lightning bolt inside a circle with a diagonal line through it.