by JK Franks
“Raptor Team is in the water,” Jimmy said. His job was monitoring that group. “Cutter has one team member injured. Minor, but limits his mission effectiveness. It is within our projections.”
“Possible enemy target within 2000 meters and closing slowly,” the mechanical voice of the suit’s combat AI stated. Unlike Dee, the suit’s systems were all business.
“Show me.” Instantly, Cade’s full face shield lit in soft glowing lines like a radar scope. He could see it, and the rest of his team, spread out in a wide arc covering several hundred meters and the larger glowing indicator for the biologic threat. Presumably, the Saraph. If the creature knew they were here, it was taking its time. He looked at the readout, coming up on 2000 meters. “WarHawks, go dark.”
He minimized the radar display and looked to where the other team members should be. One by one, he saw the bubbles of light wink out. Instantly, the darkness seemed to slam against him. He felt his joints stiffen and could imagine it cracking through his diamond hard face shield. Not the water, not the immense silent pressure, but the darkness itself. He found himself having trouble breathing. It was very much the same feeling he got of being inside a house at night. It was confining, threatening, and it robbed his soul of its desire to live.
“Amy.”
He hadn’t meant to call her name, not out loud. The ghost of his sister, always frozen in his mind at four years old. She called to him, over and over, “Take my hand.”
Cade closed his eyes and rocked back and forth in the tight confines of the metal coffin he was bolted into. Please no, please no, please no.
“Cade?” The voice, full of calm and concern, cut through the clutter and noise of his tortured mind.
“Hey.”
“Sorry—Nomad,” Jaz said. “Still not used to all of your guys’ rules. Just wanted to see how you’re doing. Doctor Han is monitoring your team, and your numbers are spiking in several areas.”
Briefly, he considered lying to her but knew it was pointless. “Out of my comfort zone a bit here. Talk to me, okay?”
There was a slight delay in her reply. “I can only imagine. I’m so sorry. I can’t understand how you guys do what you do.”
“It’s not that, Jaz, the mission is dangerous and risky, but that risk is manageable. We train to be as prepared as we can be. This is just me. It’s, it’s…”
“Ah,” she replied. “The monsters out there are not as scary as the ones inside your own head.”
Damn, she did get it. Wow, he thought.
“You don’t have a lock on that, Nomad. Yes, your trauma and abuse may have made you more acutely aware of it, but we all have those same issues. It’s called being human. No one wants to feel helpless or alone.”
“I’m pretty much alone down here, though,” Cade replied looking out into the darkness.
“No you aren’t, you just can’t see everything around you. Doris, adjust Nomad’s visuals to show other team members.”
Instantly, the suit registered and tagged them in his HUD. Not as glowing dots, but the actual people. He took note of the wavelengths, a visual overlay of the magnetic anomalies the suits caused in the water. “The Saraph or Kalypso can’t see this, can they?”
“We don’t think so,” Jaz answered. “It’s a very narrow band, and the suit harmonics phase at an irregular rhythm to make it look random, unless you know what you’re looking for. Also, Nomad, dial the normal light sensors in your display up to max.”
He did so; it took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but he could just begin to pick out small fish, shrimp, and less identifiable creatures swimming all around him. All of their tiny bioluminescent bodies glowing or pulsing with light. The sheer density of life was incredible. Now he could see larger items farther away. A barrel-shaped thing with ribbons of light dancing down its length cruised slowly by as he passed 3000 meters.
“They look like creatures of light.”
“We have a problem,” Dee said just before the XOD began bringing weapons online.
“Threat detected, 1500 meters and closing fast.” Cade felt a pressure in his head and heard several members of WarHawk cry out in pain. The suit dialed the HUD back down until the light from only a single creature remained. The Saraph. It was approaching from the flank, right where Alias and Pyro were descending.
“Secondary threat detected,” the combat AI said, highlighting yet another target coming up from far below.
“Shit, there’s more than one,” Cade said to no one. “Deuce, you seeing this?” He knew he was, so he didn’t wait for a reply. “Execute Red-Twelve.” This had been a contingency they had trained on in the simulator. Cade slowed his descent, as did most of the others, and split into two defensive units. Each would focus only on a single animal.
“Weapons…,” Deuce began to order just as the closest of the monsters’ light began to brighten and pulse. The neural pulse Micah had warned them about. Riley and Doris had created several countermeasures to hopefully mitigate the effects, including a magnetic shielding in the XOD’s helmet. Still, he heard those closest to the glowing beast immediately go into distress. Pyro was throwing up in his helmet. Cade muted the audio feed from the man, as that alone could trigger gag reflexes in the rest of them.
Throwing up into the helmet of a hard-shell dive suit would normally be a death sentence. The stomach contents would remain in the helmet and be breathed back in by the gasping occupant, causing asphyxiation within minutes. But Riley and Doctor Han had created an amazing filtering system that could literally ionize particulates out of the air and cause them to be drawn to a collector grid around the neckline where they would be gathered, then purged outside the suit. Still, nausea was not a mission capable state for any warrior. You were out of commission until you recovered. Cade watched as Pyro’s suit went into autonomous mode. It wouldn’t fight for him, but it could escape and evade.
“We’ve analyzed the pulse wave harmonics and are attempting to compensate now,” Doris said.
Cade wasn’t sure what that meant, but hoped it helped. He was aware that the XOD generated an electromagnetic field just nanometers outside the skin of the exterior. Part of this had to do with the ability to keep the incredible water pressure away from the actual suit, but it had also been fine-tuned to help protect against the beast.
His HUD had switched to combat mode minutes earlier, and he watched helplessly as several of the eight indicators switched from green to yellow. One of those yellow glowing dots was Deuce.
“Deploy countermeasures,” Cade ordered. The various suits’ AIs obeyed, even if the occupant was incapacitated. Basically, fighting a battle underwater was challenging for humans no matter how good the tech. Projectile weapons like guns were very limited as the drag from the water limited killing distances to a few feet, and reliable aiming was nearly impossible. Energy weapons like Riley had been developing couldn’t be used because the water dissipated the charge, and the shooter was more at risk that the target.
One thing about working around a bunch of geniuses, if you give them enough time and motivation, they will come up with some options. One was the incredibly small aqua drones now deploying from most of the dive suits. Looking like small fish, they would school in front of the animal and try to be consumed where a small explosive, embedded in each unit, would detonate in a timed explosion designed to rip the Saraph apart from the inside. Another set of drones used a nerve paralytic that Jaz had helped develop. Based on the tentacle that Micah retrieved, she felt sure it would cause the creatures to become immobile for at least thirty seconds. These were part of an arsenal of long thin shafts that could be fired from a miniature rail gun affixed to the forearm of each diver. It looked more like a miniature self-loading crossbow, but like most of what they had, it was a close-quarters defensive weapon.
The first Saraph made an attack run to Cade’s right, but his attention was on the other coming from below. “Shit, these things are fast.” The pressure in his head increased; he knew it was att
empting to incapacitate him. “You first, buddy.”
“We have a hit,” someone, maybe Greg, said excitedly, then added in a much more somber tone, “It’s still coming. Drone countermeasures are ineffective.”
“New target detected,” Cade’s suit's AI said.
Cade looked at his display. Something else was beginning to show. Something much farther away and much, much larger. Way bigger than the one he was about to engage. No, no…shit. “Riley, tell me that big ass thing is Kalypso.”
77
Texas
“Chaps, how long until we arrive?”
“Wheels down in San Antonio in forty-three minutes, Director.”
Margaret had made the calls; her agency’s teams were stretched to the breaking point. Most of her field agents were untested, and Deuce would have a cow if he knew what she was doing, but her options were limited. Homeland had provided a pickup crew, and now her Nighthawk was screaming toward central Texas to meet up. Doris had peeled apart layer after layer of identities on one Richard Goldman, fifty-four-year-old resident of Round Rock, Texas. The identity was false, and that was about the only honest thing she could determine. Richard Goldman had a cover story that literally went back to his birth. No part of it stood up to scrutiny, yet it was pieced together like a master forger might recreate a masterpiece.
“Doris, update.”
“We’ve had the house and property under surveillance from space since your man first voiced the name. No one has come or gone in that length of time. Ground teams are moving into position now, and we should be able to get heat signatures on IR within the next few minutes.”
“Do we have a better image, something we can put out on BOLO, feed to CBP, or Interpol? We don’t want this guy slipping through the cracks.”
Doris answered, “We have various CCD footage only of someone using his identity. At an ATM, using a credit card, and such, but all seem to be different people. No driver’s license, no passport in that name, nothing official.”
That wasn’t much of a surprise to Margaret. “Put Jimmy on the money—the kid can find anything. Obviously, Goldman, or whoever he is, has been working on this plan for years, using other people to offer multiple false leads for us to pursue. Let’s not waste our time on any of them right now.”
“What are you thinking, Director?”
“I’m thinking this guy is going to be gone long before we even know who he is. He’s smart, he has money, and he knows what the agenda is.”
“Agents are now on site, Director,” Doris said soon after. “Do you want them to hold?”
“Scan the house,” she responded, a sense of helplessness beginning to creep in.
“We have two occupants, one stationary, possibly on a bed. One appears to be outside near a storage or garage area.”
A driver and Goldman, that seemed way too easy to the former CIA station chief. Things rarely worked out that nice and tidy, no matter how much you wanted them to.
A thought occurred to Margaret. “Isabella has seen this guy, she had mentioned it. Get her watching the video feed from the compound, but also go through any of the image archives from Cryptus, DOD, DARPA, anyone who may have captured images related to Section Z. Let’s eliminate the ones you can identify and have her see if Thrall’s buddy was in any of them. We not only need to find Goldman but need to know the other accomplices as well.”
“I can do that, Director. I may even be able to piece together an image of the Texan from her memory. Something I’ve been working on actually.“
The way the AI said it made Margaret’s curious nature want to ask more questions, but this was not the time for that. “Sounds good, keep me updated, please.”
“Director, I think you need to talk to Micah.”
Confused, Margaret asked why. Doris let her know that he’d decrypted something important from the Saraph’s source code. Important wasn’t accurate. It was—in a word—chilling.
The man counted down silently from five. At zero, a steel battering ram impacted just as the blasting patch tore the hinges from the massive wooden door. This was Texas, and they had just violated the ‘Knock-notice’ rule, but legal consequences be damned. The director was on her way, and she’d authorized it personally. A Hispanic man in the courtyard had been washing a luxury Land Rover. He’d been dropped by one of the tranquilizer darts minutes before the rest of the team encircled the main house.
Talon Team members made entry first. Each man or woman had a hand on the one in front until they were deep enough into the residence to separate into assigned rooms to clear. The AIC for Talon was a giant South African named Ade Nale. Ade had a resounding presence and a no-nonsense approach to security and combat. The house was cleared in ninety seconds.
“Command, no one inside the residence,” Ade said.
“We are still picking up the heat signature,” Doris responded. She then gave Agent Nale the exact coordinates in the house. Weapons up, he and two others streamed into the spacious room, an office or study by the look of it. Their video feeds were going live to Margaret, Doris, and everyone at TCP control. Ade walked over to the exact spot and lowered his hand down until it made contact on the IR screens. “It’s a sofa, settee, I believe. The surface is quite warm, I believe it has been wired to give a false signature.”
“Agent Nale, I am landing now. Preserve the room in pristine condition. Sweep the house for transmitters, trip switches, or any other nasty surprises.”
Ade heard the chopper coming in from the south. The sweep was standard protocol for the team, but he ensured his people were doing it correctly. Minutes later, Margaret Stansfield walked in looking as crisp and sharp as a new razor blade. ”Any other tampering?”
“Nothing so far, ma’am,” Ade answered.
She walked around the entire room, taking note of the eclectic range of books the man had. Odd rocks and old artifacts. A few framed certificates. Everything about the room seemed a bit too precise. Not that it was all neat and organized, it wasn’t. Something about it all was off, though. The disarray seemed staged somehow. “Doris, what is wrong with this room?”
Ade stepped back to the entry door to let the director discuss her ideas with the AI. He’d been fully read in, but still couldn’t fully come to terms with this group he had joined.
“I believe someone is sending you a message, or us a message. They knew we were coming.”
“How so? Samuel?”
“I don’t think so, we’ve been monitoring the Guardian via the tracking dot you managed to get on his arm,” Doris answered.
Margaret allowed herself a small smile. It hadn’t been easy, having the dot ready to go just as Samuel reached to take the drink from her hands. She doubted it would last long on the very paranoid man, but for now it could keep them aware of where he was and who he was talking to.
“I have an image for you, Director,” Doris called.
Margaret was busy studying the room. Not its parts, but the entire ensemble as a collection. It was all false, all misleading just like the man, but like every good lie, it needed something real to hang its deception on. Her delicate hands moved over the hardbound leather books once more and then to the objects and artifacts. Finds from a lifetime of oil drilling and traveling the world if they could be believed. Her fingers danced over a polished piece of volcanic geode, a rock with a fossilized feather and an ancient piece of gears and levers all fused together by time, rust, and possibly seawater, and then, an old ship's bell. Without turning the bell to face her, she ran her fingers over the lettering and smiled. “Bring me the driver.”
78
Kalypso
“Come back to bed.”
Her voice both soothed and chilled Ivan. Ruslana was a pit viper. He knew better than to give in to all of her charms, but damn. Looking over at the slender, perfect body lying on the bed instantly caused certain parts of him to take notice. In truth, they’d had sex many times during the night, but her appetite seemed to never be fully satiated.
“I need to go to the bridge, I’m expecting a call from Richard and Dakso,” Ivan answered.
“What about da fat pig?” she snarled. The Czech pushed her nose up with two fingers to leave no doubt who she meant.
He smiled. “Freida will arrive on the next rotation, and you need to be nice to her.”
“Nyet, she is awful person, and she smells like sausage.”
“Darling, how bad do you talk about me when I’m not around?” Thrall asked, leaning over to kiss her full lips once more.
“Hardly at all, you are most reasonable man. You do what I want.” She pulled him close. “And now, I want this.” Her hand wandered down his body to his groin. She stroked his erect cock, and he knew he would not be making it to the control room just yet. Their lips met, and he was lost to her needs once again.
Several decks below in the research level, Thera was working on a plan. She’d made significant progress with the new creature over the last three days. She’d been right, the SS4 was a major step forward in the lineage of the Saraph universe. The strangeness of the creature still unnerved her. Its eyes followed her constantly as she monitored equipment around the spacious labs. She’d taken to calling the SS4 ‘Henry,’ as she needed something less antiseptic, less clinical…unlike almost every other animal she’d studied in her career. Henry had a consciousness; he had intellect. Not just some deep hidden mammal brain either. Dolphins and whales were smart and might have whatever it was that created a state of consciousness. They certainly possessed a level of self-awareness.