by Andria Stone
Axel spotted the doctor. “Sir, any news on Scarlotti?”
“Internal injuries. Don’t worry. He’s already on a shuttle back to base, along with one of Sgt. Russo’s men.
“Any hostiles captured alive?”
“All dead, except one, and he might not make it.”
“How many?”
“About a dozen—so far.”
“Any site personnel casualties?”
“No, but a few injuries.”
“I’ll let the lieutenant know.” Axel speculated the spy on the inside must still be alive. That person hadn’t expected any resistance, either. Maybe he or she was still there.
Axel found the blond captain sitting against the wall in the conference room. He seemed angry. “Want to stretch your legs?”
Warren jumped up. “Where are we going?”
“I want you to show me around upstairs.”
They retraced their steps back up to the second floor. All the bodies had been removed. Still, Axel watched as the captain looked away from the bloodshed.
“I’m hoping you can shed some light on a few things for me.”
“If I can.”
“An explosion and a firefight happened right around the corner from your lab here.” They passed the open XB door, continued down the corridor, stopping in front of an undamaged open door labeled MNT. “What lab is this?”
“Molecular nanotechnology.”
“And—”
“Nano. Little bitty things. Put a bunch together and you can make lots of stuff. However, since this is primarily an astrophysics research facility, the application probably has something to do with,” Warren pointed skyward, “up there.”
“Look, Captain—Mark—we’ve already played this game. Like what?” Axel leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms, waited.
“I’m sure they were just kidding. Terraforming—you know—changing a moon or planet’s atmosphere and surface into something habitual for humans. I heard them joking about terraforming.”
“Back there, your door was locked," Axel said. “When I got here, this door was open. It hadn’t been breached. I saw a large man in here, with his back toward me, dressed like the other terrorists. I ordered him to surrender. He turned and fired at me. He missed. I didn’t. I checked for a pulse. That’s when I noticed he’d fallen on a female wearing a lab coat. She turned out to be your Dr. Coulter. Can you offer any explanation as to why she was in here? With a terrorist?” Axel had been watching Mark grow more confused as the story unfolded.
Mark seemed thoughtful for a moment. “Not a clue.”
“And why weren’t the MNT people in their lab?”
Mark shook his head, baffled. “Don’t know.”
“Some things to think about. Right, Captain?”
After they had returned to the lobby, Axel located Monroe. “Sir,” Axel said in a confidential tone. “You need to come with me. We have an update on their cyberattack.”
The lieutenant cocked an eyebrow at Axel and the sergeant mouthed the word, “Spy.”
“Lead the way, Sergeant.”
Chapter 2
With all due expediency, a secure vid uplink had been established connecting the CAMRI office of Colonel Charles Saunier to the TMD Headquarters of General Eli Dimitrios, in Virginia. Every chair around the colonel’s conference table held an officer, including both sergeants, who observed in silence.
Dimitrios, a sizable man, graying at the temples, with a salty disposition, addressed them from the vid screen. “Well, gentlemen,” he started out slow, gaining speed as he went. “I gather this wasn’t some low hanging fruit stand in the middle of town, so will someone tell me the who, what, why, when, and how one of our primo research installations was shot to shit today?”
Major Nathan Torance, an ER doctor and 25-year veteran, unfazed by Dimitrios’s ire, began, “General, sir, the Medical Corps has recovered twelve deceased hostiles, plus one borderline. So far, they’re all ghosts. We haven’t been able to ID any of them, yet. We’ll be able to do a more thorough exam back at the lab. On our side, we sent two TMD wounded back to base. No fatalities. The Canadians have three injured civilians. They’ve been transferred to the nearest trauma one facility. CAMRI’s remaining personnel have been checked out medically and are undergoing forensic questioning. As to CAMRI’s onsite security forces, they were apparently called into a fictitious meeting and the room was tranq gassed. Tranquilizer rendered them unconscious. Nontoxic. No long-term side effects. They’re coming around now.”
Monroe rested his clenched hands on the table. “Gen. Dimitrios, I have the unfortunate distinction, sir, of reporting that our cyber unit has conclusive evidence of a spy within the CAMRI ranks. Very sophisticated passive system hacks from inside have been detected, coupled with the targeted attacks from the outside today, which shut down the entire installation. It’s not yet determined whether this was corporate or enemy nation sponsored, but cyber has barely scratched the surface.
“Fortunate for us, they seemed unaware that attacking the server would trigger an alert in TMD Headquarters, which enabled us to scramble a tactical assault response within minutes. As yet, it’s unknown, but doubtful, if any terrorists escaped. However, without a prisoner to interrogate, we can’t determine what they were specifically after, and may not know until the spy—saboteur—is discovered. Then we have a dilemma, General. Do we apprehend immediately, or use surveillance to track them to the source? Only the people in this room have been made aware of this information.”
“Mon Dieu.” The Canadian colonel looked ashen. “This is a nightmare. A Judas among us.”
The lieutenant continued. “First, standard operating procedures mandate no electronics leave this facility. They’re already being collected and tagged. Second, cyber needs data on every company doing business with CAMRI. And, third, the same goes for every employee—past and present—including any current personnel not here today. Everyone.”
After the meeting, Monroe remained in the colonel’s office, huddled in a corner with the doctor. He motioned for Axel to join them. “Sergeant, since this was your lead, you get to accompany the doctor here, to St. Vincent's Hospital in town so he can check on the three injured civilians we had shuttled over there earlier. Rank has its privileges, so the major shouldn’t have any problems accessing these patients. Make sure to take a cyber with you to record their statements. And shed the armor; let’s not frighten the locals any more than we already have.”
***
The shuttle silently hovered above the hospital’s rooftop. When its hatch opened, all three TMD figures dressed in gray ballistic-proof uniforms stepped out. Axel and Ricky Gutierrez, a cyber specialist, wore leg holsters with sidearms. Torance followed in a black dress hat with a silver braid detail and an imposing black cape. A cadre of hospital personnel stood shivering in the frigid air, waiting to escort them inside.
Axel accepted that he was the muscle on this mission. He enjoyed playing the heavy, for a chance to find out how this scenario unfolded. Torance had rank; he commanded the lead. Gutierrez was the tech, nothing more.
At the nurse’s station, the emergency room’s charge nurse greeted them with a tight smile, holding the charts and admitting paperwork.
“You’ve only given me data for two patients,” Torance said, enunciating clearly, in case of a language misunderstanding. “We sent three patients.” He held up the same number of fingers, supporting his claim.
“Oh no, sir. We have only two, you see,” the nurse replied. “Come, I’ll show you.”
“Wrong,” he insisted. “We sent three patients. You accepted three. Two men and a woman.” He held out his tablet, pointing to the screen. “These are their IDs, the time they were delivered today, along with the names of your personnel who accepted them.”
“No,” she repeated. “We have only two.”
The major’s face had grown an angry red against his silver white hair. Tossing one side of his cape back, exposing his insign
ia and rank, he leaned toward the nurse. “Get the admitting ER doctor up here in the next thirty seconds, or I’ll see to it your license is marked invalid and tomorrow you’ll be reporting to work with the janitorial staff.”
Axel and Gutierrez exchanged looks. They simultaneously moved up to flank the doctor, thereby enlarging their presence, blocking all movement.
The nurse rushed to the adjacent wall comm and pressed a button. “Dr. Bouchard, second-floor nurses’ station, STAT!”
Axel had never seen the major act badass before. He liked it. Just for fun, he counted to twenty-nine before the ER doctor came running in, with the hospital administrator arriving on his heels.
“Your hospital has lost one of our patients,” the major snapped, giving the newly arrived doctor no time to catch his breath. “Get the personnel in here who accepted our three patients earlier today.”
“Please, messieurs, let us discuss this in my office.” The administrator motioned with an outstretched arm. The entourage followed him into a richly furnished corner office. The staff seated themselves, now visibly nervous.
As the muscle, Axel assumed guard duty at the door.
Gutierrez stood shoulder to shoulder with the major as he glared at the civilians.
Three orderlies in blue scrubs scurried in, squeezing past Axel.
Again, Torance seized command of the questioning. “We offloaded three accident patients today.” He pointed to a male image on his tablet. “Who accepted this one?”
The tall female raised her hand. “I did.”
Torance thumbed up another male image. “And this one?”
“I got that one, sir,” said the wiry older man next to her.
“And this woman?” Torance asked.
“I did, sir.” The last man nodded.
The major turned to Gutierrez. “Record his statement.”
“Does this hospital have a video or drone surveillance system?”
The administrator stood. “Oui, monsieur, both.”
The doctor clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Since we’ve established you have indeed lost a patient, let’s see where she went. Cherchez la femme. You may show Sgt. Von Radach to your security office now.”
Axel laughed so hard on the inside, he could barely follow behind the administrator. Later, he would congratulate Torance on his performance. Now he concentrated on evaluating the administrator’s body language. When he heard footsteps, he glanced back. Gutierrez was double-timing to catch up.
The small room housed a surplus of equipment, and numerous vid screens. Gutierrez shoved the hospital employee out of his chair and took over at the screen. Within moments, the cyber specialist had accessed the vid scene beginning with the patients being offloaded and taken into the hospital. The woman, Dr. Coulter, was placed on a hover gurney, and delivered to the ER. A swarm of activity ensued. Her gurney was next seen without a patient on it. Empty. She had disappeared.
The hospital administrator gasped. The security employee shook his head.
“Gutierrez, download every frame,” Axel ordered. “Continue searching all the vids for anyone remotely similar leaving this hospital until you’re current. Cherchez la femme—literally.”
“And you two—” Axel pointed at the hospital staff. “Remain here as witnesses. Your statements will be needed.”
Axel stepped outside and commed Monroe. “Sir, Dr. Coulter has disappeared. We’re searching for when and how right now. In the event you decide to put out a warrant, you’ll need to assign a cyber to do a full background data search, gather any personal items she might’ve left behind, including a vehicle. She’s a civilian, so I don’t think she lived in the housing on the grounds.”
***
Mark Warren craved a drink—maybe two, more like three—and a nice quiet place to process all the shit that had happened today. After receiving clearance to leave the building, he jogged the chilly quarter mile to his quarters, laughingly referred to as condos. They served as housing for all the Terran military personnel stationed on the compound.
“Home sweet home,” he said aloud. Once inside his small apartment, he headed straight for a special bottle of Canadian whiskey in the kitchen. He had two bad habits: he drank and he gambled. Right now he focused on the drink. He poured himself two fingers in a coffee mug and downed it. He bolted the door and wedged a chair against it, because now he was officially paranoid.
He wanted to contact his family, but decided to do it later. He took a quick shower, got out, then had a second drink. After pulling on jeans, a sweatshirt, boots too—just in case he had to escape another unforeseen catastrophe—he stretched out on the couch and began to unwind. The third drink smothered some of the raw nerves still lingering in his mind. Mark felt the effects of the jog, whiskey, hot shower. Normally, he’d have the vid on, or music, or he’d be on his tablet checking the stock market. Now he needed to think. In silence.
Dr. Beth Coulter. What an everyday, harmless name.
In hindsight, she’d been the shadow of a real person since day one. Jung called it, “owning your own shadow.” Mark never had a point of reference for that phrase—until now. About a year ago, she’d walked into the XB Lab, right after Mark’s previous partner, Dr. Suresh, whose specialty was organic electronics, left to work in the private sector. In research and development, many different scientific disciplines produced the finished product. CAMRI’s directors believed it was time to combine Mark’s work in Xenobiology with neuroscience; Dr. Coulter’s specialty. The easiest way to create genetically enhanced humans or artificial intelligence was to start with biological intelligences and modify them, using artificially enhanced biological cells.
As a rule, Mark usually reserved an opinion about people, trying not to label anyone until he got to know them. Admittedly, he’d done a net search for her, and found she had stellar credentials. Plus he learned she spoke three languages, had an irreverent kind of humor, and drank coffee by the bucketful. They worked in the lab together, day after day, and little by little, they’d established a harmonious working relationship, as well as a personal friendship. When she had learned Mark was smitten with a woman he’d met in Paris, she started teaching him to speak French. Alas, Juliette was not meant for long distance relationships, and it had ended. Still, Beth had endeared herself to him and he'd grown to genuinely like her. The truth of the matter was, she’d hustled him. She’d deluded, mislead, sucker punched, and she’d scammed him. Damn. Damn. Damn. The question was…Why?
Sgt. Von Radach had been correct with his assumption of military applications for synthetic life. Except Mark was actually working on upgrades. The program had begun with interfacing applications for the replacement of lost limbs, restoration of sight, and other senses on injured soldiers. It quickly progressed. At last count, there were about 100 Terran military augmented human soldiers, or cyborgs, currently in existence. Half had been stationed on the orbital spacedock for the last six months. Another three squads had been discreetly intergraded through the auspices of the new Mars Military Command. Although not a secret, the military preferred to keep the introduction of these troops as low key as possible.
However, Mark didn’t know if Dr. Coulter had compromised the XB lab’s work. Or, maybe working in the XB Lab had been a way to get close to the Molecular Nanotechnology lab, since that’s where the sergeant found her. Mark understood what his question had implied, but he wasn’t sure if the sergeant had branded him guilty by association.
There was a knock at the door. “Captain Warren?”
Mark nearly fell off the couch. “Who is it?” He stood up, feeling light headed.
“Captain Eva Jackson, from the Nano lab.”
Mark removed the chair from the door and opened it to greet the scientist; perky, pretty, bronze-skinned, wearing a pink anorak over her uniform.
“They finally released me.” She kept glancing over her shoulder, as if worried someone was following her. “And by the time I got back here…well, could you come take a lo
ok…please, Mark? I knocked on every door. You’re the first one that answered.”
“I’ve had a hell of a day, Eva,” Mark said. “Why don’t you come in? Tell me what happened.”
She spotted the bottle of whiskey.
“Sit down. I’ll fix you a drink.”
Eva sank into a chair, elbows on knees, cupping her head. “I think someone’s been in my apartment.”
“This will warm you up.” He held out a mug and handed her a fuzzy blanket from the couch. “Now start from the beginning.”
“We were all in the Breakroom for Walter’s birthday when the sirens went off, and the doors were locked.” She took a sip and made a face.
“It’s medicinal. Drink it.”
“I thought…anyway, I was really scared and just kept praying until it was over. I was so glad when the soldiers showed up and took us downstairs. They separated us. I swear they gave me SP-27, they put a halo on me, and I was interrogated. Interrogated! They asked me questions about Dr. Coulter—who I hardly know. I haven’t eaten all day, except for a piece of cake. When they finally let me go, I got home, and it looked like somebody had been in my place. Now I’m scared to go back there alone.” She put the cup to her lips, taking a big gulp.
“Isn’t SP-27 experimental?”
“Yeah, and they experimented on me!”
“How did you feel?”
“I remember feeling like I wanted to choke somebody. And that’s not like me.”
“Well, shit. I probably got a dose, too.”
“Really? Still, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“Okay, let’s get back to why you think someone’s been in your place.”
She had a sheepish look on her face. “You’re going to think I’m silly.”
“I have a sister. Her middle name is silly. I’ve heard it all, believe me.” He nodded, smiling, trying to put her at ease.
“I’m pretty sure I saw fresh nicks around the edges of the keyhole…for real.”
He cocked his head, studying her, and sensed this was important.