Rewind 717: The Adventures of Time Traveler Anti-Terrorist Agent Cole Seeker
Page 11
“Okay, I don’t know who the both of you are, but there’s obviously been some sort of mistake. You two look like officials. I’m a legal renter in this building.”
Seriously? I say to Eleanor via the link.
Let him blabber whatever he wants and trust me, she answers.
“Look, mister,” she says loudly. “I’m Samir’s friend. He owes me money, and when he failed to pay earlier today, well, let’s just say that he had an unfortunate accident with a sonic grenade.”
Rasul’s look changes immediately at the mention of Samir’s name.
“But before the grenade accidentally blew his head off,” added Eleanor, “he said something about coming and getting what he owes me from you.”
Rasul nervously looks at Eleanor, then at me, and then somewhere behind us. To not tick him off I use the drone’s long-range cam to zoom where he was looking and see a small cupboard behind us where a crappy holo-TV runs, its sound muted. Eleanor pushes on. I’m still not sure what she’s playing at, but decide to trust her.
“Give us the money now and we’ll be on our way,” she says, her tone hard as steel.
“I don’t have any money, and I don’t know any Samir! Please leave. You have made a terrible mistake,” Rasul repeats, clearly not intimidated by us so far.
That’s when I hear her in my mind. Go apeshit on him, and remember to put a tracker on him. To make sure he can run, leave his legs alone.
I take two more steps and clock Rasul in the face with a strong jab that nearly knocks him out in one blow.
Okay, says Eleanor, maybe apeshit wasn’t the right operative word. Scare the shit out of him, but we need him operational.
I think I understand what she has in mind. Rasul is so disoriented I easily inject him with tracer nanites after grabbing him by the collar and dragging his ass off the couch.
“What are you doing, Cole?” she shouts.
I know it’s for show.
“I’m wasting that sucker. He’s not going to give us the money, so let’s just spill his guts on the carpet and go grab lunch.”
Rasul’s eyes grow big and he looks terrified now. I put my foot on his thorax and push him to the ground. I have to be careful not to hurt him too much, but need to apply enough force to make it believable; not the easiest balance to find while improvising something for the first time. I point my blaster at his head and see sweat beads gliding off his forehead like passengers abandoning a sinking ship.
“We’ll get the money from someone else,” I say, looking at Eleanor. “Right?”
Rasul speaks. “Please, don’t kill me. I don’t know you. I haven’t done anything. Please. I’ll give you all the money I have.”
“Hear that, partner? He’s gonna give us some,” I shout.
I’m fully aware I’m overacting, but I’m not exactly in my comfort zone here. Tell me to rip someone’s head off and I’ll probably find ten ways to do it, but pretending to be a thug, that’s new for me.
I grab him by the hair and lift his entire body off the ground. His legs are flailing uncontrollably. When I bring his face near to mine I regret it. His breath stinks like a long day spent swimming in the swamp.
“No funny business, okay?” I hiss at him.
“I . . . I promise. Just put me down and I’ll give you all I have.”
I let his feet back onto the ground and release his hair.
Nice performance, Cole, says Eleanor on the link.
If you say so, I answer.
Rasul goes to the cupboard he’s been eye balling before. I warn Eleanor.
He looked there when we first woke him up. He could be hiding a weapon inside, so stay frosty.
Roger that, Cole.
He opens the top drawer of the cupboard and takes a wallet from it as well as something else but I can’t see what. Must be important, though.
What if he holds a piece needed to make the bomb work? Can we really afford to let him go? I ask Eleanor.
That’s when Tanya decides to chime in.
There is a good chance he will lead you to where the bomb is, which is why letting him go is the smart thing to do.
Well I’m glad you agree, Tanya, says Eleanor.
You two are enjoying this too much. But okay, I’ll follow your lead. Brute force hasn’t been very helpful with his friend Samir, so let’s play this your way. How do we make his escape look believable?
Rasul comes with his wallet, takes a money card from it and gives it to me. “There’s more than ten thousand credits on here. It’s untraceable and all yours if you let me go.”
“And what stops me from shooting you in between your eyes and grabbing that from your corpse exactly?” I retort.
“Right now it’s set to only work on my DNA imprint. I can unlock it remotely, but you’re gonna have to trust me.”
“That ain’t happening, pal. You unlock it now or you’re dead meat.”
Easy there, Cole, says Eleanor. He’s presenting us with an easy way to let him go. I understand you want to stay in character, but . . .
Right.
He continues, “You and I both know that if I unlock this now, you’ll kill me right away. I have no need for this card, and I value my life. If it’s not unlocked later today, you can always come back and kill me then. But if you let me go now, you’ll get your money.”
“What do you think, partner?” I say loudly. “Does that cover Samir’s tab?”
“Not even close, but it will have to do. We need to get going anyway. You,” she shouts at Rasul. “We’ll be back next week. Make sure you have another one of these but with twenty Ks on it, or you’re history. Are we clear?”
Rasul nods his head up and down nervously. “Very clear. I will get you what you need.”
“Okay then, get the feck out of here before we change our minds.”
Rasul runs out of his apartment like an athlete running the Olympic one-hundred-meter dash.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Now we follow the bee back to the hive,” says Eleanor.
C H A P T E R
XI
Mission completion time: T minus 339 minutes.
Rasul takes more than a few precautions to get where he’s going, and I’m nervously looking at the reverse-counter mission clock while my patience is running out.
“I could have gotten this information out of him faster than this. He’s been going all over town for more than an hour,” I say in frustration from the jet bike, hovering atop one of the large skyscrapers not too far from where Rasul is at the moment.
“He probably suspects we’re trying to follow him, so he’s just making sure he’s got no tail,” says Eleanor, mildly annoyed at my complaining. “And if you had failed to acquire the info from him, we wouldn’t have had any leads whatsoever to intercept the weapon before it reaches its intended target.”
“We don’t even know if he’s getting anywhere we need him to. What if he got spooked and changed his mind? I don’t like this.”
“Look, Cole, I understand waiting is not your strong suit, but trust me, this guy will lead us to the bomb.”
“And how exactly do you know?”
“Call it female intuition.”
I want to argue some more but then I decide against it. I know Eleanor is a difficult gal to argue with. Better spare myself from the possible fallout. I am, however feeling something I haven’t felt in a long time. Friendship with a flesh-and-bone partner. It’s been so long since last we went together on an op that I had forgotten that bond. I love having Tanya with me at all times but this is something else.
“Tanya, what’s your take on all of this?”
“If Rasul doesn’t get where he needs to go in the next thirty minutes, we’ll have no other choice but to change tactics. Hang on a second, he’s making a call.”
“How do you know that?” both Eleanor and I ask in sync.
“I hacked his transmission augment and installed spyware while you two were doing your thing . . . Cole, something is happening.�
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“What?” I ask.
“You’re not gonna believe this. He’s calling Ahmed.”
“Bingo!” says Eleanor with a triumphant smile on her face.
“What are they saying?” I ask impatiently.
“Not much, but Ahmed gave him a rendezvous point not too far from his current location. He should be able to get there in less than twenty minutes.”
“If they meet in person we can put them both to rest,” I say.
“Yeah, let’s not jump the gun here,” says Eleanor. “He might just send someone else to recover whatever Rasul has in his possession.”
“We’ve been working under the assumption that whatever this bozo is carrying is important, and I think Ahmed will want to make sure he gets that back from him. If it’s a part of the bomb, he can’t detonate without it. So we make sure Ahmed doesn’t get his hands on it, and, while we’re at it, if he shows, we take him out.”
“Their call has ended, and the bozo is already changing tubes,” says Tanya with a chuckle. “I sensed tension in Ahmed's voice during the call. Whatever Rasul is carrying, it seems really important to him.”
“Which means we shouldn’t have let him go,” I say dryly.
“Look, Cole,” says Tanya, “what’s done is done. The important thing is we have another real lead to Ahmed now.”
I don’t answer; she’s right and there’s no need to assign blame. We have to play the cards we have been dealt.
“We should have a second vehicle, you know, in case one of us needs to go after one of the targets. We need to be able to split up, and we could use some additional firepower,” says Eleanor.
“Tanya,” I answer simply.
“I’m sending the short range fighter to rejoin our location. It’s already in the air. ETA eight minutes,” says Tanya.
* * *
By the time Rasul arrives at his destination we’re already in position. We can’t afford any more cockups today, so everything needs to go smoothly. No sign of Ahmed yet even though Rasul has arrived before their agreed time. Eleanor is providing sniper cover from higher up in the structure while I use my stealth augment to follow him inside an abandoned and decrepit factory, undetected. There are barely any lights in here besides the city lights casting chaotic shadows all around, always in movement due to lights from vehicles passing outside at different speeds.
This is definitely not Ahmed’s base of operation but I didn’t expect it to be. He’s far too crafty to rendezvous with Rasul in such a place.
I look around for booby traps and scanning devices and find none. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Ahmed is smart enough to have stealth tech of his own in place. This place could have its fair share of surprises, and I know I must stay on my toes the entire time. An incoming neuronal message from Eleanor interrupts my train of thought.
How come you guys don’t have all the information needed to stop them? I’d expect you’d know their meeting places and just get there and scoop them.
It’s not that simple, you see. While we do get some valuable information after the fact, most of it is due to post-attack analysis. If terrorists were clumsy, we would simply catch them before they act, but they are very crafty, especially Ahmed. Somehow, he always seems to be one step ahead of us.
That must be frustrating. But how can it be the case? Have you asked yourself that? I mean, you should have the upper hand knowing where and how he will strike. How come he still gets the upper hand, unless he is helped by someone on the inside?
The thought is legit and somehow echoes my previous concerns. Eleanor probably isn’t too far off here. Why is it that he is still able to anticipate our movement when things are clearly happening differently during a time jump? The very fact that I am in this time, running after him and trying to prevent any terror attack makes this timeline different. How can Ahmed anticipate that? Unless he knows our tactics. But Project Rewind is the most top secret operation in existence. He shouldn’t know about it. And if he indeed does, can Eleanor be right? Could there be some mole providing him a head’s up?
I sure hope there is no mole or outside forces helping scum like Ahmed. The terrorists are wreaking havoc enough as it is, I say.
Well, technically every time they do, you stop them, so from their perspective they aren’t really getting many wins, right?
Time travel is not really something easy on the mind. Humans are not supposed to rewrite their own history. Just thinking about it defies the laws of what it means to be human, to be born, live a linear life as far as time is concerned, and then, in due time, die. From his perspective, every time I stopped his nefarious plan, it would feel like one more failure for Ahmed. Having witnessed so many successful attacks before making sure they didn’t happen after a Rewind mission, I never stopped to think that Ahmed never really got the satisfaction of succeeding. Well, at least whatever satisfaction he got was short lived as it was surely erased afterwards. But then, there were those times when the people in power decided that a specific attack didn’t yield enough loss of life to warrant a Rewind mission. Smaller targets, where only a few died, were often just accepted as collateral damage. To them it made sense to time jump to course correct history after only the vilest of acts, but it didn’t seem fair to the innocent who perished in what the company considered acceptable loss.
It’s not that simple. Sometimes Rewind doesn’t sanction a time jump if they deem the loss of life acceptable to the timeline.
This is bullshit, Cole, and you know it! Nobody should have the power to decide when it’s right to save lives and when it’s not. I’m surprised you actually agreed to serve such interests.
This stings me but I have to admit I cannot deny or rebut Eleanor’s words. It’s not the first time I question that part of the job either. But at the end of the day, missions like the one today, where my actions could save hundreds of thousands of lives, couldn’t be belittled either.
It’s not black or white, Eleanor. If we succeed today we save hundreds of thousands. Doesn’t that count for something?
I’m not trying to make you feel bad about it, Cole, but surely you must ask yourself about the motives, especially if there have been times that you felt like time jumping to save only a few but the company said otherwise.
Yeah, we had many such occurrences.
Which means you’re not really in control.
Control is an illusion. I wish it wasn’t, but in this world, the last place one can really experience freedom is within one’s mind, and, even so, with all the augments, I’m not even sure that is the case anymore.
Eleanor doesn’t answer.
I want to further defend my case and my reason to be part of Rewind, but I know very well I wouldn’t just be trying to convince Eleanor; I would certainly try to convince myself as well. I have doubts sometimes; heck, a lot more often than just sometimes. But I believe that at its core, even if I am just a pawn, my actions are serving a higher purpose.
That’s when Tanya’s holo-image appears in my mind. But before she speaks, static distorts her image and her face is replaced with Vassiliki’s.
What the hell is this? This is not the time to have yet another bug-ridden hallucination.
“Cole, you need to ask yourself these questions. There is a reason why you feel you are doing good. Pretending to have pure intentions is the only way a corrupt organization can trick someone like yourself to do their bidding. Don’t trust everything you think you know. Keep asking yourself questions, a lot of questions. Your life and the ones of everyone on planet Earth depend on that. Don’t ever just be their pawn. I beg you, my love . . .”
The message makes me shiver to the core. Is it because these glitches, if that’s what they are, happen with Vassiliki’s face and voice, or is it something else? Could this be part of Ahmed’s arsenal of cyber terrorism to make me doubt myself and to weaken my resolve? No matter what they are they give me the creeps; plain and simple.
Tanya, I think you’ve got a virus. Plea
se run another set of self-diagnostics.
Why? What happened? she answers.
You didn’t hear that last holo-message I got?
What message? I guess I should run self—but then she stops. Hang-on, there is movement outside. I don’t think now is a good time to do this.
Agreed, we’ll have to check your code later. Give me a full tactical data overlay. Eleanor, get ready, something’s happening.
Roger that, Cole. Eleanor confirms.
My HUD overlies with all the info Tanya sends on my enhanced vision. Infrared confirms two men are approaching the entrance of the abandoned factory. I get some weird static on wireless signal scans.
“Tanya? What is this? Why do I get all that wireless static?”
“Unknown, but if I had to theorize I’d say it looks like signal-scrambling.”
I am not happy to hear that but then again it might mean Ahmed is coming himself. It would make sense for him to scramble the area, keep his presence unknown to the city’s central AI and security watchdogs. That’s what I would have done in his place.
I take position not too far from Rasul, still in full invisible mode until I find a decent cover and drop the augment as its power consumption is substantial and I need to keep my power levels up. I check my internal power source; it’s at seventy-three percent. The moment I drop my cloak, another augment starts syphoning power wirelessly from nearby electrical sources. It’s a slow trickle type of charge, but every bit helps.
But then the two men stop right after entering the building. Just after I dropped my cloak. Have I been detected? I swear in my head, activate image enhancement and zoom towards the two men. It takes a little while to process the pixelated image from this distance but before the sharpening filters finish their jobs, I recognize Ahmed’s face. He has a burn on the right side of his face, no doubt a result from the explosion at Rasul’s place.
I start to worry that I might have been discovered and cut any wireless connections from my augments. Soon the two men resume walking towards Rasul, who has been pacing impatiently only a few yards away from me, playing nervously with a data chip in his hands. No doubt the piece of tech Ahmed came himself to reclaim.