The Time of the Attack

by Greg Ellis

  Chapter 7 Infiltration

  "Why do you want to do this," Pete asked. "I want to make them pay for what they did to her. I want to take the extreme measures that will prevent this from happening again." "Good enough for me." So it began. Joel was given a crash course in the art of being a spy and what he would most likely encounter. After about a week Pete declared him ready. That night Joel couldn't shake the feeling someone was following him but soon he passed into sleep.

  When he awoke. He found himself tied to a chair. Some guy in a mask with a solid build was in front of him. "He's awake," the masked man said. "Begin," Came another voice that sounded like it was coming from behind Joel. He turned to look but before he could turn far enough to see a hand was grabbing the back of his head and forcing him to look forward. His bonds to the chair were released but his legs were still tied together and his hands were tied behind his back. Joel was forced into a kneeling position but as he fell he saw a bucket in front of him.

  His head was shoved into the bucket. Joel wondered how long he could hold his breath. Seconds passed. 10 seconds Joel guessed. He started counting up from there. 20 had passed. 30 then 40. He was starting feel out of air. Joel knew he couldn't last much longer. He no longer could restrain himself and let the unconsciousness engulf. Before it came his head was pulled up. Oh how sweet the oxygen tasted even though it felt hurtful to his lungs. He breathed in deep but quick breath panting. "You will tell us everything you know." "Who are you? Who do you work for?" All Joel got for a response was a grunt.

  Then the voice from behind came again. "Let's start out with something simple. What is the current deployment of your Beagle ships and do they carry a nuclear armament?" Joel didn't know what to say. Lie or tell the truth? Which should he do? He had no idea who these people were or what they wanted. “Don’t know. I'm not exactly mister popularity with being discharged and all. I can tell you no that no beagle ship has every carried a nuclear armament but they are capable of carry a wide array of missiles which may or may not be nuclear." "If that's true how come no beagles were equipped with missiles at the battle of Mars?" "Because they are resource heavy. A laser only needs energy and a few parts and you can take as many shots as you have energy for. A missile is one time use and takes more resources. Plus we weren't expecting an attack that day."

  The questions continued and the tortures seemed crueler or easier on the whim of the voice behind him. He told them the same answers trying to remain consistent. As times he had no memory of the day's events. On days like those he wondered if he hadn't blabbed everything he knew about anything. He was always returned to a small room with a toilet and a cot. The first few days he looked for a way to escape the room. He found none. On the fifth day he considered various ways of committing suicide. He thought of drowning himself in the toilet but given recent experience he didn't want to go that way. He also thought of using the cot and as a noose or something but could find no way to do it. The lights were always so bright and there were always loud noises. He was given scant food and water. On the tenth day they tried a torture Joel had heard theorized but never heard of anyone using it.

  Joel saw a very odd looking gun in the hands of the masked man. Joel assumed it was some sort of directed energy weapon. All thoughts of trying to categorize the weapon disappeared when he felt like his entire body was on fire. He felt like he was being boiled, cooked alive. He had to move and get away from the pain. He rolled to the left and relief came. Relief lasted for a full sixty seconds before he was shot again. Joel felt like his mind was leaving him. It felt like it couldn't take the torture and decided to up and leave leaving only a shell of a man. He had a strange dream that night. When he awoke he was bewildered. He muttered something about an orange slaying a rake and himself being a tree house before he passed out again.

  Joel could no longer think and no longer feel. Part of him was glad for this as the pain was gone and he could no longer comprehend the tortures being done. Another part whispered, "At what cost?" He always tried to put that voice aside. Wait what was that? Joel thought he heard a female voice saying cruel and torture. It was nice to hear a female voice again. When was the last time he heard a female voice? "And if I should die before I wake I pray the my soul to take." Joel shook it off and concentrated on something else. Was he hallucinating the voice? He couldn't make out many of the words but the voice sounded angry, appalled even.

  Was his mind seeking refuge in the idea that some female saw the torture and was going to rescue him? A twinge of hope swelled within him. Then a horrible reality came crashing down. He had to be hallucinating. "Let's try it my way!" the female voice shouted. "Your way is no more reliable. The information you get can't be trusted any more then the info we got from the torture. We hope at best to find the glimmer of truth in what he says and to see if he can be trusted." It was the voice that was usually behind him during the torture making the speech. "You've tried the whip now try the carrot," came the female voice. "Fine but you won't get anything." Joel passed out.

  Days passed without any major incident. One night he had a dream where all his life troubles played out but that quickly passed. There was no torture and the food got better, if only slightly. Was this this the calm before the storm? Was his hallucination real? A knock came at the door. The door then opened slowly. A tall brunet was the one pushing the door open. "Hello," she said in the same voice of the hallucination. Joel reached a hand out and touched the knee of the woman. She felt real enough. "Are you a hallucination?" She laughed. "I have been called a lot of things in my life but hallucination is not one of them. Look I got you a short reprieve on the torture but you are going to have to cooperate with the powers that be. Do you understand?" Joel nodded slightly but firmly. "Good. I'll show you to some better accommodations where you can freshen up a bit before what we need you for."

  The room she showed him was marvelous. Of course he would have thought that about most rooms at that point. There was a nice bed, there looked to be a holographic generator in the room, and the bathrooms looked like something a king would have. The strange woman left. What to do first Joel thought. Shower would probably be best he concluded. He quickly rushed to the bathroom and locked the door. After taking a hot shower that felt like it lasted hours he turned the shower off and stared at his clothes. What was the point of the shower if I have to put those on? He wrapped himself in a towel and searched for clothes in the main part of the room. He found a closet full of UARS uniforms that were roughly his size. Dare he wear the uniform of the ones who killed so many? Would the ruse be believable if he didn't? "When in Rome," he muttered and donned the uniform.

  He headed outside the room. When he opened the door he saw the woman in a chair facing the door. She appeared to be reading something on a tablet computer. "All done," she said not looking up from the device. "Yes." The woman turned off the device and slid it into a pocket. "Follow me," she said. "Don't veer off." They went through a lot of hallways and took an elevator down before they found themselves in a room with three people chattering very quickly. One was a redheaded woman, a young looking Russian man, and an old looking ma of Arab descent. They walked to about an arm's length from the table. The brunet gently whispered, "Joel's here." Everyone immediately stopped their chattering and came to look in his direction. "He's here to help us," the brunet said. "What is the current nuclear armament of the AU and do they have any other weapons of mass destruction," the young man asked. "I don't know," came Joel's response. The redhead piped up, "What is the mission of the Miranda project?" "To study Uranus and its moons and also to report if any of those moons would be good for mining." "Is the project based of a space station or are they being based from one of the moons," came the redhead again. "Last I heard it was a space station orbiting the planet but I never saw plans or anything." There was silence for a while. "Can he be trusted," came the young man.

  The mysterious brunet woman laughed then said, "If he can't he's bound for a short drop and a sudden stop or somet
hing far worse." The woman seemed to chill the room with those words. The redhead broke the silence. "Do you have any ideas how to contact someone on this mission?” "Radio signals and a lot of lag." The young man spoke up. "We were looking for something a lot quicker and less traceable. Possibly instantaneous." "The only way it could be instantaneous is if the message traveled through subspace and from my understanding of subspace it's impossibly." "Elaborate," the redhead said. "When one enters subspace they are trapped between the second. An infinite amount of time can pass in subspace but going back to normal space you'll come back on the exact second you left. Helps that the laws of physics don't completely apply to that region. Anyways the point is two different objects have to enter subspace at exactly the same moment or they will be trapped in different moments. Logistically that's nigh impossible to coordinate over short distances but with the added distance between here and Miranda it really does start to become impossible. If the other side is just the tiniest fraction of a second off your message would be lost forever."

  "Surely there would be some way to read the signal from the outside," came from the older man. He looked to be a man in the later years of his life Joel thought. "The most someone would detect is the subspace fluctuations as the transmission passed them by and those fluctuations would be faint. The only time subspace fluctuations are easily detectable is when an object enters subspace and when it leaves." "And if someone had the equipment to detect the minor fluctuations," replied the older man. "Still impossible." There was silence. Joel took this opportunity to take a seat at the table. The brunet did the same. The redhead started tapping a finger on the table as if to an unheard melody. The younger man clicked a pen. An idea started to form in Joel's mind. "Hang on. How fast can whatever is sending the signal oscillate?" Everyone look puzzled. After a few seconds the redhead’s eyes lit up. "That is brilliant. Though sending a binary sequence would take hundreds of characters." "I wasn't thinking binary. More like Morse code." Everyone’s faces turned back to bewilderment. Joel joined them. "What did your history classes teach you nothing? The telegraph or the million or uses it had? Man if what they say about those who don't learn from history is true we're screwed."

  "The one in question would know ancient forms of communication. That might work." The redhead looked pleased but still puzzled. "We don't need him any more," the old man said. The mysterious brunet escorted him out and back to the nice room. She took out a pen and clicked it. "There that should keep anyone from listening in. I'm CIA and we need to get you out of here. They are going to kill you soon." "I was wondering what you were doing here with an American accent. Why haven't they killed you yet?" She set the pen on the bed and grabbed a key from her pocket and rushed to unlock a door. "Because they think I'm a double agent for their side." She grabbed a bag and handed it to Joel. "These are your effects including a tablet, portable hard drive, and a lollipop. How cute." "Wait hold on a sec. The CIA recruited me to pretend to be a double agent. Why wouldn't they have told me about you?"

  "Considering how you told them everything and when you did it wasn't hard to tell the lies from the truth I think it was a great decision. Plus they probably weren't expecting you to be grabbed. You couldn't shake a tail? That's not smart." "Hey I am one of the best military commanders the AU has seen." "That very well may be but you're an oaf when it comes to espionage. Though that bit about the Morse code was good. Like that would ever work." She was heartily laughing. "Hey I was being serious about that suggestion." She stopped laughing. "Well then, you are an oaf."

  "Shockingly calling me names isn't helping me escape, and shouldn't we be trying to get more info before we up and leave." "I've found out about all I'm going to. Some guy code named Gog is running the show and what ever they are up to it's bad. Annoying person always giving me furtive glances. It sounds like another attack but I can't find out the when and the where. Though Miranda might be it if they are trying to send a message there. Maybe some sort of sleeper agent that needs to be activated. Anyways we need to move now." "I have a friend on Miranda. We need to warn him." "Which we can do when we escape. Let's move." "No we need to get more info especially if the attack is on Miranda." "Oh and do you have some sort of brilliant plan to go along with that?" "You are very beautiful." "Why do I not like the look in your eyes? No wait you can't be serious." "It worked in the world wars and probably later on most likely. The hard drive has a virus that can hack almost any system and the lollipop has an audio transmitter embedded in the stick. Best-case scenario you get some info out of him. At worst you provide a distraction and give me enough time to get info off the system. I can keep an ear on you with the transmitter." "That's a decent plan. Fine. Down the hallway to the right, last door on your left, is a computer no one uses but is connected to the whole system. On the ground floor is a hanger with some prototype ship they have. Head for there. If you can, wait for me for thirty to fifty minutes. If I'm not there by then just go."

  Joel handed her the lollipop. She handed him the pen, then unwrapped the lollipop, and put it in her mouth. "Go," she mumbled. Joel put the pen in his pocket, fired up the tablet, and ran for the location the woman had said. He could hear a sucking noise. He opened the door slowly. There was no one in there. He quickly plugged in the portable hard drive. He moved the mouse. He could see a password prompt. It was gone a second later. He saw a file called TTOFTA on the desktop with a picture of a snow-capped mountain behind it. He copied the TTOFTA file to his hard drive. He then brought up a search for the words attack or Miranda. The only file that appeared was a file labeled TTOFTA. He checked the location of the file. It was the same file he saw on the desktop earlier. He opened it. "Pending. Israeli invasion on hold till the secrets of Miranda are found." Secrets of Miranda? Wait what did they want with Israel? No time to think. He had to leave. He quickly logged off the computer and removed his drive. He than started to run to the place where the brunet had told him to go. He met with no security along the way to the elevator. When he got out he saw a door with sunlight going through a window in a door. He ran to it and opened it. He was outside and still saw no security or guards. He looked around at the landscape. It did look like they were in the middle of nowhere. He finally spotted the hanger and a small landing strip next to it. From the angle he was looking there appeared to be no guards. Should he make a run for it? He did. No shots rang out and he was relieved when he had a hand firmly placed on the white spaceship. He caught his breath for a moment then went into the ship. No one was there. He strapped himself in.

  He turned his focus to the controls. They were all labeled firstly in Russian then in Arabic. That was unhelpful he thought. He then turned his focus to the tablet. He heard a rap on a door. A creak followed. "Hey I'm bored. Wanna have some fun?" "Oh I knew this day would come.” A whooshing sound was heard then a clink. There was the sound of some odd noises. This went on for a while. Then there was a male voice. "I want to show you my collection. Come on." There was silence then he heard an odd sound. It sounded metallic and grating. The male voice spoke again. "This sword is the sharpest blade known to man. You are a traitor." A scream rang out, then a cutting noise, and then the thud of heavy object hitting the ground. Joel started to panic. This can't be happening. Why do people keep dying around me? Why are these controls labeled in Russian? "Is there some kind of autopilot," he wondered aloud. "Yes there is. Where would you like to go," came a male voice. "That's slightly disconcerting." Joel thought for a moment. "Peterson Air Force Base." "That location is enemy territory. Would you like to engage shields?" "This thing has shields?" "Yes it's one of four prototypes that do." "Yes engage shields."

  Now to warn Simon! He grabbed the tablet and tried to connect to the LLAMMA satellites. The words, "Authorization required, please place fingertips on a scanner," appeared on the screen. Joel put his fingertips on the screen. "Authorization no longer valid," came a female voice. "Well so much for that." Joel started looking around the craft. His eyes stopped at the portable hard drive. Sure
ly it couldn't hack the satellites. Could it? He quickly plugged the hard drive into the tablet. In a few seconds he heard, "Assess Granted." "Send this priority message to Miranda Base specifically Commander Simon." The ceiling of the craft appeared on the screen. Joel adjusted the device so his face was on the screen. "Simon do not let anyone else see this message. You're the only one I can trust. There is a UARS spy on Miranda Station. I don't know who exactly so trust no one. I just escaped from being a highly classified undercover op so tell no one where you got this info. Be careful old friend. Message ends." The screen changed to a list of possible commands. "Connect me to the ADC." Joel's face appeared on the screen with the face of a general in top left corner. "Joel you were discharged! How do you still have access to the array?" "Long story. Look I'm in a stolen blackjack headed for Peterson so please don't shoot me down and can you inform our allies to do the same."

  The general was stammering. "How'd you get a blackjack?" "You don't want to know and secondly it's classified." "How do I know you haven't defected and are going to drop a nuke on us?" "There are no nuclear armaments on this vessel," came the male voice of the computer. "What was that?" "The blackjack seems to have a similar AI to the ones we put in the Beagles." "Probably another thing they stole from us, just like the FTL drive. Fine we'll inform allies and give you a clear path. What's your current position?" "Somewhere over UARS territory. Should hit the UK in," Joel paused. "One hour thirty," came the ship. "Fine we'll scramble a fighter escort when you get near there." The screen faded back to a list of options. "Computer when you see fighter jets disengage shields. Is that understood?" "Yes it's understood but why should I disengage shields in front of enemy craft?" "That's classified." "Then I am afraid I cannot." "Fine it's an undercover operation to feed false information to the AU and create a panic. The idea that UARS is trying to create a shielded blackjack will do that exceedingly well." "You keep referring to this ship by its ATO designation." "Give me a break. I haven't been a turn coat for that long and it sounds a lot better than the ship type name." "Shields will disengage upon seeing enemy craft." "Thank you."

  When UK airspace was reached the shields disengaged. "You may want to disengage the jamming device," the computer said. Joel had forgotten about it. He clicked the pen. "Come in enemy craft. Please identify. We saw a flash of lightning. Is your ship okay?" Joel quickly replied, "This is Joel Jordal flying the captured enemy craft and the lightning was shields disengaging." "Bloody hell they're shielding them now? Anyways we'll be your escorts till halfway across the Atlantic where you will meet up with an American entourage." The rest of the flight was peaceful. The tradeoff happened without a hitch and the ship managed to land without incident at Peterson Air Force base.

  "You will explain yourself," came the general Joel had spoken with earlier. "I was playing a double agent, got some info, and hijacked a blackjack to make my escape. Lancaster could probably explain it better than me. He still not in the springs is he?" "No, till about an hour ago he was in prison. We thought he might have leaked your location to UARS." "A blackjack lands on top of a base and you accuse the CIA of leaking a location?" "It wasn't my decision." The conversation ended there. The odd figure of Peter Lancaster was walking towards them. "Brother am I glad to be out of there. How'd you like you're first op?" "Did you send anybody else in?" "Not me personally but there was a long term female plant in place." "She's dead."

  Peter paused looking sullen. "Was it worth it?" "You're trying to put a cost on a human life? We got some intel on where the next attack may be. Is that worth it in you're ideology?" Peter sighed. "Look what we do is not pretty. There are sacrifices and we do things others wouldn't be willing to do to protect this nation. The ends do justify the means." There came a slight pause then a reassuring glance. "Are you in? Were always looking for a good operative." "Can I decline assignments?" "Of course." "Yes." Peter handed him what looked like a badge and an ID. "Raise your right hand." Joel complied. "Do you promise to always fight for the AU and follow orders given to you?" Joel thought for a moment. "I do." "You're in" "That seemed a lot less formal than I thought it would be." "Desperate times."