Cynetic Wolf

by Matt Ward

  Walking into the country style kitchen, someone clapped me on the back. “We were worried, Raek,” Henk said with a grim smile. “Didn’t know if...”

  He left the question hanging.

  “You must be starving.” Zedda pointed to the counter. “Grab food and follow me. Ganla’s upstairs in the study. We can talk there.”

  The counters were cluttered with nuts and dried meat, things designed to last. Contorting guilt filled my gut, along with burning anger. I’d make them pay for what they’d done.

  “Over here, Raek!” Zedda yelled as I ascended the rickety stairs.

  The door at the end of the hall was ajar. Inside, seated around the antique iron table, were Zedda, Ganla, and someone I didn’t recognize.

  “Raek, this is Caell, he owns the safehouse and manages the farm for the Initiative,” Ganla explained. “We’re glad you made it. We were worried.”

  I ignored Caell, cutting to the chase, not bothering with niceties. “So, what’s happening? They tracked the van. I figured that much. We messed up. What’s happened since? How many people got out? Who’d we lose? Anything else?”

  Ganla told me, but it was nothing new. Sixty-five of our hundred strong had died, and it was my fault.

  “You saw the news,” Ganla added. “They are milking it for all it’s worth.”

  I shook my head, confused, taking in the dim, cozy space for the first time.

  “Yeah.” Zedda rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen this much coverage of a raid. They’re saying they won the war. Many speculate the library bombing was an excuse for us to carry out larger-scale attacks.”

  Those freaking liars. Somehow, I stayed calm, fists hard as iron.

  “Don’t forget Couve and Ghrail,” Caell added. “Both broke into widespread fighting and are in the process of falling to the cynetics.”

  “The cynetics?” I eyed the thin man. He had bland features and strong hands to match his farmer’s tan, only his whiskers notable, a wispy blond mustache in stark contrast to his thick auburn hair.

  “The cynetic factions within the DNS have unified and are pushing for total cynetic control,” Ganla said. “We think Calter’s behind it.”

  Of course he is… I paused, taking it all in.

  “We can’t wait any longer,” I said at last. “Notify everyone you can contact. As of this moment, we’re officially at war!”

  67

  A Little Relaxation

  Between calls, coffee, and chaos, no one slept much. The farmhouse was electric, fifteen-odd folks firing on all cylinders to make our people ready.

  When the rooster crowed, a sigh went up from the troops splayed across couches and countertops. It was rough, but we’d done it. By mid-morning, we were ready, at least as ready as we’d be. The main bases had been notified and we’d begun the next stages of our blitzkrieg.

  We’d renounce the ceasefire and launch assaults on several tier one and tier two cities that morning. Not Caen, that would come later. We didn’t have enough support with the losses we’d suffered.

  Timing would be everything.

  I’d filmed several videos that night condemning the violation of the truce and the growing violence in Couve, Ghrail, and the six other cities in full-blown anarchy. Animotes had to rise up again.

  At noon, we released the videos and kicked off the attacks. Lhalas was the first to fall, and I couldn’t help but think of Fitz. A deep throbbing. Who’d he wanted me to meet? Why?

  Lhalas was a huge win for us, a megacity of two million inhabitants. According to reports, there were homeless animotes everywhere in the cold ex-Canadian metropolis, the abandoned subway in particular. When word was released, animotes flooded the streets by the thousands, like rats emerging from a sewer.

  Local GDR officials and military personnel never prepared for anything like this. That morning, hundreds of thousands poured out of the underground and clawed, tooth and nail, literally, to victory.

  The next several days, a similar pattern emerged in several tier one cities. And while we captured Maste, Willon, and Broag, VTOLs carpet bombed dozens of animote towns and villages, killing tens of thousands and injuring many more. The GDR wanted us to choose, freedom or your families.

  They didn’t stop there.

  Most cities had strict zoning laws and pilots wasted little time decimating animote neighborhoods in an effort to eradicate us—pest control at its most inhumane.

  The fighting deteriorated and death tolls skyrocketed as each side doubled down. In theory, that was okay, at least in the short term. If there was an end in sight... But there wasn’t. Neither side was making progress in the bloody, WWI-like slog.

  I didn’t know what to do.

  By the fourth day, I was despondent. By the fifth, borderline depressed. We’d been so close before it all came crashing down.

  “I’m going out,” I announced to no one in particular. Zedda and Henk were slumped on the couch but said nothing as I slipped out the door.

  A deep breath on the porch. Another. The picturesque beauty amplified the numb bleakness inside me. What was the point? Millions more would die anyways.

  Walking padded snowy trails, I soaked it all in as a hawk soared in ever-expanding circles. He must be hunting too, if only it was that easy.

  I stumbled through a large snowdrift and reached a frozen pond. It had been ages since I’d skated. Wouldn’t that be nice?

  A flash. What was that, by those trees? A blur... It was a doe, blood trickling down her fleecy side. Even at a hundred meters, the gory scrapes along her left flank were obvious, ripped raw. By what? Was that a thornbush?

  She kicked and let out a high-pitched wail. The thorns tightened as she squirmed.

  We had plenty of food at the house so I didn’t want to kill her if I didn’t have to. A quick stun and she collapsed. I hurried over, claws making fast work of the thorny vines ensnaring her scrawny torso. Once she was free, I rubbed her wounds to stimulate blood flow and dragged her from the entanglement.

  How’d she get so tangled? Must have brushed a thorn and panicked.

  Wait, that was it! We didn’t need to win the war, per se.

  We just had to sever the thorn. Calter...

  68

  Hello Again

  Sprinting back to the farmhouse, I called Ania to go over a few things. I had Calter’s username, only he had enough power to make things happen. We called him.

  ‘Calter?’ I said as soon as he answered.

  ‘Who is this?’ He sounded wary.

  I turned on video, keeping my surroundings out of the picture.

  ‘What do you want?’ he spat, glinting eyes betraying his curiosity. His background shifted from an oak-paneled masterpiece of an office, grand piano in the background to a bland white wall.

  ‘I want to meet,’ I answered. ‘Just the two of us. I know you planted the bomb, coordinated all of it. If it weren’t for a lucky break, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’

  ‘What do you want?’ he said again, face unreadable.

  ‘The fighting’s gone on long enough. You aren’t going to win and you know it. And neither will we, at least not for a while. This’ll go on for weeks, months maybe. We’ll destroy everything we worked so hard to rebuild since the Fall. You can’t want that...’

  He narrowed his eyes further. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Who’s controlling the government, the military, the police? I’m guessing it’s you. You have the power to end this, only you. But you’ll want some guarantees for the future, right?’

  ‘I’m listening.’ He tried to look bored but his lips twitched. It wasn’t working.

  ‘All I’m saying is,” I continued, “we can make things work for you. A position in our government? Done. Beautiful mansions by the ocean, the mountains, wherever? Not a problem. We can make you disappear and give you a new identity. Anything you want. We need to end this. It’ll be better for everyone. If it takes some spoils, that’s worth it. Think about it.’
/>   He paused and my heart stopped. Would he fall for it?

  ‘Why should I trust you?’ he said at last.

  I shrugged, fighting to stay calm. ‘Do you have a choice? Whether it’s ten days or ten years, eventually, we’ll be an inevitable majority. So, do you go down a war criminal and pull a Hitler as we’re arresting you, or do you start a new life with a clean slate? It’s that simple. You don’t have to decide now,’ I added before he could say no. ‘Call me tomorrow.’

  He smirked. ‘You have no idea, do you?’

  ‘What?’ Something in his voice terrified me. He knew something I didn’t. But what?

  The line went dead.

  “Did we get a trace?” I turned to Ania.

  She grinned. “We got him. I got his location and history too. I’m guessing he’s at work, so that won’t help us. The history could be interesting though.”

  Was this was the break we needed?

  “Give me a few hours!” Ania eyes locked on her screens, voice accelerating. “A normal GDR account would be near impossible to hack, but looks like he’s drunk on power, not taking basic precautions. I can’t promise anything,” she added. “But we might find something.”

  “Great work, Ania!” I clapped her on the back. “Want some coffee or anything?”

  She was already gone, the rest of the world disappearing under an impenetrable veil of focus. “Nevermind,” I said to myself as Zedda and I left to give her space.

  We were upstairs, analyzing Zone Three when there was a scream.

  “Yesss!”

  I rushed down to make sure everything was okay. Ania had a huge smile and was pumping her fist. “I got him. We got him!” She noticed us. “Guys, come here.”

  We took the remaining steps two at a time and piled onto the sofa. A few others came to see what the commotion was about.

  “We planted a virus disguised as a distorted-pixel in your video feed, Raek,” she began. “Calter’s AV programs didn’t catch it. By cross-referencing his search history with old GPS check-ins before a security patch and some picture and video files, I used a probabilistic distance matrix to—”

  “In English please,” I cut in. The farmhouse was silent, collective breaths held. This could be it.

  “Oh… We found him, where he lives. And it looks like he has a regular mistress; photos of two different women on his personal server, some homemade adult stuff.” She smirked. “He’s cheating on his second wife. Was this what you were looking for?” she asked with a timid smile.

  “This is better!” Grabbing her shoulders, I pulled her into an unexpected hug. “Change of plans, guys. We found him, we found Calter. That’s where we should focus!”

  “But there’s no proof he was behind the attacks,” Ganla replied, sounding skeptical.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “This is our chance to cut the head off the snake. If we capture him, we’ll have access to all their secrets and be able to manipulate the DNS at will. None of ‘em would question a direct order from him. He’s the most powerful person on the planet right now. And if his security’s any indication, Ania could spoof messages to their troops.”

  After talking it over, we agreed the mistress’ house would be the place to take him. His own home would be impenetrable, with security cams, drones, guards, and more. If he was cheating on his wife though, he wouldn’t want to make that public knowledge.

  Her apartment would be easier to stake out and raid if it came to it.

  According to Ania’s analysis, he visited his mistress twice a week. For a man fixated on security and control, he made himself an easy target. I guess power will do that to you. Everyone’s invincible, until they’re not.

  Now was Fury’s time to fall.

  69

  Perfect Timing

  We kept eyes on the place for the next two days to no avail. Something, or someone, was keeping him busy. By the fourth day, I was worried. Did they have a falling out? Had his system found the intrusion? Or maybe a more beautiful mistress...

  Whatever the reason, those four days were miserable. Every day, there were dozens of stories on what the WNN had taken to calling World War IV. Tens of millions were slaughtered as fighting outpaced even the brutal first days of the conflict. The footage was horrifying; bodies strewn everywhere, a jumble of arms and legs and decomposing corpses.

  The GDR seized control of several megacities while exterminating dozens of towns, and our forces captured nine tier one and tier two cities. Overall, it felt even, each side delivering crushing blow after crushing blow on a daily basis; heavyweight boxers ruining each other’s future with every swing.

  And Calter still hadn’t called back. My plan had failed. Morale was bad and worsening. I couldn’t blame them.

  Wednesday, Zedda and I went for a walk. It had been ages since we’d had a moment alone, months of constant crab cooking pressure… and it was only four days.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked when we reached the pond.

  I sighed. Only she knew how I was really doing, that the optimistic facade was a front to motivate the troops. My insides were dying.

  She took my hand and placed it on her belly. She wasn’t showing, but I knew. That was the one ray of hope in all this, the one thing keeping me going. “He’s here for you, Raek. We’re here for you.” We both thought it was a boy, but hadn’t had the chance to see a doctor, or run a test. A son, wow. My son… What would he be like? Was I ready?

  “What about you? How are you—”

  A call came in. Crap, was it Calter?

  It wasn’t. One of the undercovers watching the mistress’ apartment was on the line. Someone matching Calter’s description had pulled up in a high-end Volvo with tinted windows and hurried into the building.

  Zedda and I ran back to the farmhouse.

  The kid—Baker was his name—had managed a quick snapshot of the suspect. I got it seconds later.

  ‘That’s him! That’s Fury!’ This was it. ‘Good work, Baker. We’ll have a team onsite in two minutes. Stay put, watch the door. Once they enter the building, get out of there. Find somewhere safe to hide, but keep your eyes out.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ Baker stood straighter. ‘Thank you, sir. It’s an honor.’

  I ignored the sir comment and made the call. We had a team of five ready round the clock.

  ‘It’s on!’ I said as soon as the call connected, the entire farmhouse gathered around me, listening. ‘He entered the building.’

  ‘Roger that!’ the leader replied in a Georgia twang. ‘En route now.’

  ‘Call when you have him. We’ll send backup.’

  ‘On it. Over and out.’ He signed off.

  This was either going to be ingenious or an absolute disaster. “How soon can we have a second team onsite?” I asked.

  “Ten minutes,” Zedda said without hesitation.

  “Do it! We should be fine, but just in case.”

  She made the call.

  But what was I doing here? I needed to be there. Since retreating to the farmhouse, it had killed me sending others into harm’s way. It was one thing when my life was on the line, but from the safety and comfort of the safehouse, it felt wrong.

  Screw it! “Get me a VTOL!” I said.

  Zedda grabbed my arm to stop me. “But, Raek, you—”

  “I’ll explain later.” I pushed past, hurrying to the barn, calling Henk as I ran.

  ‘Hey, Henk, I need a ride.’

  We were airborne two minutes later. It would take eight to get there, minutes after the second team arrived. A call came in on the approach. That was quick. Was it really that easy? I patched it through the farmhouse so they could savor the moment, muting them before answering.

  ‘Hello?’ I said.

  A long pause, and what sounded like Beethoven in the background. Beethoven? I tensed. ‘Did you think five would be enough?’ a voice hissed.

  No… I closed my eyes. It was Calter. ‘Surely you didn’t fall for the oldest one in the book? A
n unsecured comms line.’ He laughed.

  My head spun. This wasn’t happening. ‘What do you want, Calter?’ I spat.

  ‘A meeting. Just you and me,’ he added in an innocent voice.

  ‘Are they alive?’ I asked. Had I condemned more innocent people? If I could keep him talking...

  ‘Of course,’ he said in a low, sarcastic voice. ‘Well, two of them, and barely.’

  ‘Let me talk to ‘em. I need proof.’ The fur on the back of my neck tingled.

  Henk looked at me, worried. Three minutes, he mouthed.

  ‘Raek, it’s me Zedric,’ a voice coughed. ‘He’s—’ Thud.

  ‘Zedric’s out again, that should do for proof. If not, here’s, what’s your name, boy?’

  ‘Frankis, Frankis Caol,’ a voice whimpered.

  ‘Ah, yes, Frankis.’ Another slam. ‘Frankis and Zedric are alive. I can’t say the same for the other three, or the kid on the corner. It was pathetic.’ He laughed again, freezing me. ‘Their deaths are on your hands, boy. Tonight, 23:00. I’ll send you coordinates twenty minutes beforehand. Come alone or these two die!’

  ‘Wait!’ One minute until our backup arrived. Would they be in time?

  The call ended, the connection to the farmhouse unmuting.

  The room was silent.

  They’d heard everything.

  70

  Confetti

  ‘What’s the status of team two?’ I asked, voice wavering.

  ‘One minute to target,’ Ganla replied.

  ‘Connect me.’

  She did.

  ‘Raek here,’ I said as the call connected, our VTOL descending.

  ‘We’re here, sir. It’s Michaels. Entering the building now.’

  ‘Wait!’ I shouted. ‘Wait for me. Calter took out team one. Has anyone else come or gone?’