by Andria Stone
“Nooo.” Kamryn lifted her head off the pillow.
Axel placed a finger on her forehead, lightly pushing her back down. He knew she would have gotten out of bed if she hadn’t been hooked up to machines and full of drugs.
Kamryn shot him a meaningful look. “Catch bad guys.”
“I know you want to. Don’t worry. Lt. Nazarova’s whole platoon landed last night. They’re on protection detail. The brass takes it personal when a member of an officer’s family is damn near beaten to death to pressure him into giving up military secrets. And one of their best sergeant’s is shot apprehending an accomplice to the TMD's Most Wanted.” He stroked her shoulder and stood there until she closed her eyes.
Mark walked up behind him. “How is she?”
“Drugged to the max, she still wanted to get up and go after Beth Coulter when I said she’d been spotted coming back to Terra. Kamryn’s a damned good soldier. I respect her. I’m amazed she’s still alive.”
“Torance likes her. He called her a “peach.” He’ll take good care of her.”
The cyber Ohashi entered. “Sergeant. A moment?”
“Sure.” Axel stepped away from the bedside, while Mark wandered back into his father’s room.
“I have that data you requested.” The cyber specialist dropped a data chip into his pocket. “It reads like a crime novel. Two of them should have been castrated years ago. The third one is sneakier, but not much better. I don’t understand how he got to be sheriff. I’m sure there’s more that hasn’t been documented. And you’re not going to believe this—the deputy who responded to the call for Mr. Warren? Well, he’s the sheriff’s cousin.”
“No shit.”
“I left no trace, but you can’t stick that chip into any military device to view it. I’d recommend a private system.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Temporarily disconnected from everything else.”
“Thanks, Ohashi. I owe you one.”
“No.” She made a slicing motion with her hand. “Justice will be thanks enough.”
“Justice it is then.”
***
Torance had waited until all the visitors were gone before he established a vid link with Harben and Dimitrios. The doctor was unhappy about having to transport his patients. In wartime, on the battlefield, in combat—yes—he could see the rationale. But not here—not now.
They would both heal. However, the doctor had not been entirely honest with David Warren’s family about how long it might take before he would be back to normal. There could be some residual damage to what was inside the skull. He hesitated to tell Mark, since neural implants happened to be one of the repair options. And currently, those didn’t have the best reputation.
Kamryn Fleming was a different story. As head wounds were the most complicated, neck wounds were some of the most problematic. Although she might wear her uniform again, she might not wear armor. Those units were in a class by themselves. You didn’t need medals when you wore armor. It was your medal.
The vid connection came into focus with a split screen between Harben and Dimitrios.
“Do you have an update on the injured?” The colonel didn’t look happy. He rarely did these days.
The doctor shared his prognosis with concerns for each patient, even walking around putting their faces on the screen, along with their monitoring readouts. “They can be transported, but just because something can happen, doesn’t mean it should.
“David Warren, his wife, and daughter all have practices. They’re professionals in this community. If he’s sent outside the area, his family will have to decide whether to desert their livelihoods to travel with him or abandon him in favor of staying here to make a living. Either way, when Warren’s tour is up—considering everything that’s happened to him, not to mention the attempted murder of his father—I would expect him to take his Ph.D. and run to the private sector. If he’s still alive.”
“Very well, Major.” Dimitrios leaned forward; his usual salty demeanor had been replaced today with an unusual serenity. “Let’s break for lunch. We’ll reconnect in an hour.”
The vid screen went dark.
The major knew Dimitrios well enough that his mood changes meant something alarming was on the horizon, and nobody was going to like it.
Ohashi poked her head into the room. “Sir?”
The doctor motioned for her to enter.
“We received an update on the Space Station incident. A container with liquefied human remains was found. They don’t have a DNA match yet. Since Beth Coulter was using a man’s ID and fingerprints—that has to be what’s left of him, right?”
“Araña viuda negra.”
“And that is?”
“Spanish for Black Widow Spider.”
“In New Zealand, they’re called Redbacks.” She shivered. “Nasty little things.”
“We have a pathological serial killer on our hands, with a body count mounting by the hour.”
Her tablet pinged. “You probably need to sit down for this one, sir.”
The doctor sank into a chair. “Continue.”
“With the transient population of Las Vegas, dead bodies aren’t unusual. I flagged any report of a corpse remotely similar, and one just came up. A body bag with liquefied remains was discovered in a hotel’s service elevator.”
“Wait,” he said, pointing a finger in the air. “Check the records on her flight to Las Vegas. I want an ID on her seatmate. See if that person had a reservation anywhere, then if anyone with the same name boarded another flight.”
Ohashi rushed out, returning with a large tablet. Her fingers flew over the touchscreen, programming algorithms to produce the data requested by Torance. “Okay, now all we have to do is wait.”
“Think I’ll go get a quick bite to eat.”
The large tablet buzzed. “Wow. The man from the station, Joseph Scheinberg, sat next to Tessa Underhill on the flight to Las Vegas. Her reservation was at the same hotel where they found the bag of liquefied remains. Six hours later, she also boarded flight N-965 to…Portland. Shit, sir. It’s already landed.”
“Immediately encrypt this data. Send it Priority One to Deering, Harben, Buchanan, and Dimitrios at HQ, plus Axel and Mark. We must keep the Warren women safe—but do not alert them. Find the location of the nearest shuttle; we may need it. Now.”
He dashed out searching for the other cyber specialist. Found her dozing in the waiting room. “Deering.”
Her eyes popped open. “Sir?”
The doctor snagged her by the arm, explaining the situation while steering her back to Dave Warren’s room. “Send that data to every armored soldier at the Warren residence. Then get our facial recognition program working on everyone that got off that N-965 flight. I want to know what she looks like and where she went. You’ve got three minutes.”
Torance ran to splash water on his face, finger combed his hair, and grabbed three cups of coffee from the machine. As he returned, both cybers had news. He offered them coffee, swung the chair into the corner to rest on, while listening to their updates.
Ohashi began, “Dimitrios is sending a shuttle to transport the Warren family, excluding the captain, to HQ. He says this is non-negotiable. It will also be dropping off three undercover operatives to impersonate Mr. Warren and his family. They will set up residence in the home and act as decoys for any future attempts by Beth Coulter or any of her agents.” She hesitated. “Uh, sir, he did add that if it makes you happy, you can scan them all for neural implants when they get here.”
Torance snorted and muttered a derogatory comment about the general’s heritage under his breath.
Not to be overlooked, Deering cleared her throat in a dramatic manner. “I have the image from Tessa Underhill’s ID. And an image of the person disguised as her, exiting the docking bay here about two hours ago. I’m transferring them to Ohashi’s screen so you can see them enlarged side by side. On the left is the ID. On the right is the human at the shuttle port. I’m going to enlarge the
left side of each face so you can see the difference in the faceprints. The distance between facial landmarks such as eyes, noses, and lips are nodal points. The human face has about eighty points. You can clearly see the variance. It’s a good makeup job, however, the underlying bone structure is all wrong.” She removed the ID image. “Now this is an image of Beth Coulter from her CAMRI badge of three weeks ago. It’s a match.”
“Do you have an image of the man, Josef Scheinberg?”
“Yes, sir.” She inserted his ID between the two females on the screen.
“Amazing. She’s a chameleon—for both sexes—that takes talent. It’s a long shot but try researching back twenty-five years for anyone in the makeup, cosmetic, theater, vid production or entertainment industries. See if you can come up with a match for her faceprint.
Ohashi’s small tablet pinged. “The incoming shuttle’s ETA is twenty-six minutes, sir. Should I recall the captain and his family now?”
“Yes, but give no explanation—encrypt the message Priority One to Warren and Von Radach.”
***
They’d just finished lunch at one of Leslie Warren’s favorite Japanese restaurants when the Priority One message pinged on both military tablets. Mark tried to act as if he wasn’t worried about the message, but the tightness in his stomach wouldn’t go away. He felt compelled to present a confident façade to his family without knowing exactly what was happening—or why. He looked at Axel, who only shrugged and shook his head. Their orders stipulated a return to the hospital. Nothing more.
Minutes later everyone had gathered in Dave Warren’s room to await the explanation.
The doctor wrote something on a piece of paper and passed it around. It read, “Warren’s shuttled to HQ.”
Mark mouthed the word “Why?”
“Your father’s improving, except he needs specialized care not available at this hospital.” The doctor pressed a finger to his lips, refusing to utter another word.
The Warren women seemed confused. They huddled together next to Dave Warren’s bedside, waiting for the unknown.
A new uniformed doctor entered the room. She led two medics guiding a floating shiny cryopod. Were it not for her military bearing; she could have been mistaken for a mature model, with elegant features and shoulder-length silver hair.
Torance visibly brightened at seeing the new doctor. “Major Le Berre, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather turn a patient over to than you.”
The colleagues exchanged faire la bise, or kisses on both cheeks in the French custom.
“Quickly,” she instructed the transfer of Dave Warren into the pod. The medics programmed all the settings and closed the lid. “So happy to see you again mon cher. I will send an ETA on TD. Come now, we must hurry.”
Torance signaled for everyone to follow them out, up to the rooftop and into the shuttle. The medics situated the pod, carefully monitoring all the readouts flashing over the transparent faceplate.
Mark hugged his mother and sister goodbye, not knowing when he’d be seeing them again. He was about to insist on more information before letting them go when three people from the front of the shuttle walked toward him. They looked…remarkably like his mother, sister, and father.
Torance greeted them as he scanned each one for neural implants. Once they had been cleared, he motioned the male into the empty pod laying just inside the open hatch. The man climbed in and settled his frame within the confines of the metal cocoon.
At once, Mark understood what was happening. These three strangers were to impersonate his family while the Warren’s were whisked away out of danger to the most safeguarded location in North America. He breathed a sigh of relief—until a new thought hit him like a sledgehammer. He grabbed Axel by the shoulder and whispered sharply, “She’s here, isn’t she?”
Axel gave a quick nod, verifying he had prior knowledge of this new game plan.
Mark felt anger rising in his chest. “What else aren’t you telling me?”
“That’s about all I know. Things are extremely fluid right now. We’ll be briefed when we get to your house.”
Torance left the shuttle, taking everyone with him that was staying, including the three new additions to the Portland TMD contingent. The entire group congregated in Dave Warren’s old room to switch out armored soldiers guiding the cryopod for regular hospital interns. Next, the entourage moved downstairs and out the emergency entrance where the pod was loaded into an EMS vehicle, then delivered to the Warren’s home.
They were met inside by Nazarova. “The house has been swept for electronic devices and will be on a regular basis going forward. Also, a surveillance and alarm system has been installed on the structure and outlying perimeter.” She smiled with pride. “If you decide to order a pizza. The delivery boy’s going to be scanned for neural implants, blacklisted biomaterials and fifty-three different kinds of weapons.”
“Outstanding.” Mark had no idea what his mom would say when she returned. If it caught Beth Coulter, then it was worth it.
Every military tablet pinged with encrypted instructions for a vid conference.
Nazarova flipped on the large screen in the Warren’s living room. They waited for the TMD insignia to materialize, followed by the split images of Harben and Dimitrios.
“Beth Coulter murdered a Space Station employee named Josef Scheinberg,” Dimitrios spoke through gritted teeth, his coloring a sheer cherry red. “She cut off his fingerprints and liquefied his remains. The person she sat next to coming back to Terra was murdered in the same fashion. She has now assumed the identity of Tessa Underhill. This is the faceprint from the Portland spaceport where she landed this morning.” An inconspicuous middle-aged brunette appeared on the screen. It could have been the face of a next door neighbor, kindergarten teacher, or librarian. Just not a killer.
“The Warren family was removed to avert the opportunity of another attack. They cannot be used to coerce Capt. Warren into giving up any information. Except now, Capt. Warren, you are a decoy, along with the three undercover agents that have been embedded as your family. This predator wants what you have, Captain—so we’ve prepared a gift for her. A chip with massive amounts of cybernetic and terraforming data. However, this chip is formatted to be read exclusively by military systems, which means she’ll have to be on a TMD base to access the data. Don’t worry—it’s flagged. The instant she opens the chip we know her location. Plus, it self-corrupts if anyone tries to make a copy. Just to put your mind at ease, not only is it encrypted, it’s all obsolete data. Not a byte of useful information.” Dimitrios gestured for Harben to proceed with his part of the update.
“An interrogation of last night’s prisoner, the cyborg’s human accomplice, revealed Beth Coulter has two more operatives in your area. Their identities were unknown. As of now, all TMD personnel have been scanned for neural implants—with an alarming number of unsanctioned devices being discovered. They’ve all been removed. It won’t prevent a civilian with an implant from wearing a counterfeit uniform and impersonating a member of the military. So you must be on your guard. Don’t take anything for granted.
“On a different note, the interrogation of the owners of the Malaysian cyborg plant revealed Beth Coulter had acquired another plant in India, which is not yet operational. Since titanium is one of the main elements, we’ve flagged those shipments and various other components to that particular location, as well. This new site will be under surveillance twenty-four/seven. It will never become functional.
“To recap here. Beth Coulter will contact you, Warren, or send one of her operatives. Your orders are to bargain—with the devil if need be—for the safety of your family using the data chip we’ve provided. We don’t believe you’ll be getting a second chance to get this right. So you’d better do a damned good job the first time around.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.” Mark understood all too well. They were using him as “chum” to bait the waters in hopes of luring their prime shark, otherwise known as
Beth Coulter, to Portland. At the moment, he was too angry to be afraid. He still felt the enormous weight of this responsibility as it settled on his shoulders.
Chapter 16
The man standing in for his father approached Mark and handed him a small data chip. “You can call me Alpha. We never use real names on assignment. We studied a schematic of the house on the way, so we’re familiar with the layout. I’m going upstairs to monitor the perimeter if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure.”
“Hi, Mark,” the woman said. “I’m Beta. I went over the dossier on your mother, so I know she’s a professional. Do you know if she’d contacted her office manager to let them know to reschedule her patients?
“No, I don’t think she did. We should send them a message.”
“Fine. I’ll have the cyber Deering take care of that. Now, does she cook? Should I go see what I can make for dinner?”
“Be my guest. But I think you might have to fight Sgt. Von Radach for that position. My mom gave him keys to her kitchen this morning.”
“Well, Sergeant, aren’t you full of surprises?” Beta hooked her arm in Axel’s. “Let’s see what we can rustle up in this kitchen, shall we?” She led him away with the authority of a commanding officer, or a mom.
“I’m Charlie,” the younger woman said. “This is such a change from what I normally do. Most of the time I have to portray the girlfriend of some scumbag weapons dealer, or a prostitute. So I consider this a righteous assignment, especially if we acquire the target. We were briefed on her crimes. I’ve never seen anyone with so many warrants. She’s one wicked female.”
Mark drew her aside, speaking in a confidential tone. “Can you tell me if her crimes also included being complicit in the destruction of the Europa mission?”