by T. C. Edge
Within the maelstrom, Ragan was spending his time moving from station to station, keen to hear any new tips that were coming down the line. There were sections assigned to each of the four nations of the Disunited States, with technicians in communication with the various agents and spies on the ground there. There were smaller ones, too, whose focus was on gaining intel on the various large tech companies, private military groups, and other organisations operating across the neutral zones that might also have a great interest in the data.
Truly, Mikel might have been working for several dozen different entities, making the search particularly fraught.
Of course, the prime suspects were always the nations themselves, with the WSA under particular watch. Ragan was quite sure that few people had the means to actually develop synthetic life, without which the data would be meaningless.
After all, the data disc was merely the final piece in the puzzle in unlocking the ability to transfer human consciousness into artificially created bodies. Without those synthetic forms, the data that Professor Phantom stored in Chloe’s nanites would have no meaning or value at all.
And the forms themselves?
Well, the science behind the development of synthetic human bodies had been in development for a while, with Professor Stephanie Horton the resident expert among Project Dawn on that particular subject. Having worked over in the WSA, she’d been intimately involved with their synthetics development programme, one that had frightened her so much as to have her defecting and abandoning the nation of her birth.
She’d spoken to the leaders of Project Dawn on many occasions about the terrible creations the WSA were designing. These weren’t just human bodies, enhanced with nanotech like Ragan or Chloe, or any number of soldiers among the Crimson Corps.
No, these were artificial lifeforms, created from the ground up with the specific purpose of warfare and control. They would be far more capable in combat situations than the likes of the Panther Force and Spectre Squad, the two most feared special forces units on the continent. And truly, there were no limits to the powers of these artificial lifeforms, imbued with the consciousness of a real human. Should they be destroyed, the consciousness, stored elsewhere in a secure location, would merely be transferred and uploaded into a new body. This new breed of super-soldiers would, in effect, live forever. And those who ruled them would do the same, creating a cycle of endless wealth and power to whomever wielded the sword.
It was a vision of a future that terrified Project Dawn, and terrified the rest too.
Only he who controlled the data, held the key, would profit. The rest might well be forced to come together to battle what would become a common threat.
And with such thoughts came those of collaboration…
Because as the day marched on, Ragan yearned for the resources employed by the NDSA and his team over at the CID. Mikel had stolen the data from right under their noses, and they’d surely have a better idea of just where he’d gone. They may well have been able to track the direction of his jet, giving them something to start with. They might even have gotten lucky - if Mikel hadn’t deactivated the tracker in the aircraft, they’d be able to pinpoint him more precisely. Given Mikel’s proficiency, that was, however, a rather long shot.
Yet whatever the case, if Ragan had managed to stay undercover, and hadn’t chosen to save Chloe first before going after Mikel, he’d be there right now, in the thick of the hunt, and probably much closer to getting a sniff of the nano-vamp.
Instead, he’d made the simple decision to get Chloe out of there, thus sparing her a terrible fate at the hands of President Rashmore’s government. Had he left her, he might well have managed to get right on Mikel’s trail before he even took off. He might have retrieved the data right there and then.
With all that in mind, he could understand Colonel Slattery’s ire, as he could many of the other members of the council, as well as a fair few of the soldiers around the compound, and the very technicians in that command centre.
But did he regret it? Did he regret saving Chloe, and giving Mikel a chance to escape?
To hell he damn well did…
No, he’d made his decision, and he was living with it. But in the back of his mind, the temptation remained…
Should I get back in contact with the CID? Should I speak with Doc, or Commander Wexley? Should I see if we can work together to track Mikel down?
At the moment, all the CID really knew was that Ragan had knocked Commander Wexley out cold and taken Chloe from the lab. He’d even told Doc that he was going after Mikel, that he was going to hunt that data down. Other than that, they knew nothing of his affiliation with Project Dawn. In fact, they didn’t even know of the organisation’s existence.
But what did they think? Wexley had clearly noted, and even drawn direct attention to, Ragan’s obvious affection for Chloe. He hadn’t been able to hide it when the guards had transported her to the labs for data extraction, and Wexley, perceptive as always, had been swift, and correct, in his assessment.
Could that now work in Ragan’s favour? Could he convince his commander at the CID that he’d acted from the heart by saving Chloe, but was still committed to the NDSA, to retrieving the data for them and hunting Mikel down?
It might work. He was only human, after all, and prone to weakness as all people were. His years in tracking Chloe, he could tell them, had made him care for her. He wanted to save her only before getting on with his job. The truth of his intentions, they didn’t need to know.
He considered it long and hard within the command centre that afternoon, before deciding that, at a time like this, he needed the consent of those above him if he was going to make contact. He’d acted as a rogue operative in sneaking Chloe off the base, and things hadn’t gone as intended. He didn’t want to further spark his superiors’ ire by going off piste again. That was something that Tanner was more adept at.
And Ragan wasn’t Tanner.
So, with the evening advancing, Ragan marched towards Colonel Slattery’s office and knocked on the door. It was glass, as were the walls. Here in the command centre, it was all about full transparency.
Ragan needed to do the same.
Slattery’s eyes lifted at the knocking, and he nodded Ragan in.
“Hunt, what have you got for me?” he asked immediately.
Ragan shut the door, blocking off the din from outside. All sound was immediately muted, the room silent and sound-proofed. It was a slightly odd sensation having spent several hours in that unending din, and Ragan had to calibrate the volume of his voice accordingly.
“Colonel Slattery, I just want to run something by you, for the sake of full disclosure.”
Slattery sat back in his large leather chair.
“What is it now, Ragan?”
Ragan took a step forwards, then gestured back to the command centre behind him.
“Sir, as you know, we’re not really getting anywhere yet. No sight or sound of Mikel. Nothing coming down the wire. Really, we have to question who even knows whether the data has been stolen. Aside from us, and those at the CID, it’s probably been kept under wraps.”
“Yes, Hunt, tell me something I don’t know,” grumbled Slattery, his eyes still curved in displeasure. “Were it not for your actions, you’d still be in with the CID. We have no one else over in the NDSA who had the same clearance as you…”
“Yes, sir, that’s what I’m here for. I’m thinking…” He swallowed. “I’m thinking it might be a good idea to get in touch. I could call in with Commander Wexley or Doc…”
Slattery lifted a hand to cut Ragan off.
“To what end, exactly, Hunt? Your cover is blown. They won’t give you anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“They might, sir. My cover my be redeemable.”
“How so?” queried Slattery, leaning forwards, elbows to his desk and hands steepled. “I seem to recall you telling me just this morning that you didn’t need the CID? That you’d
be able to hunt Mikel down without them?”
“Yes, I believe I could, in time. But we may be able to expedite things by collaborating with New York.”
“Collaborating?” scoffed Slattery.
“Yes, sir. All the CID know is that I saved Chloe, and I believe that Commander Wexley noted my…my liking for her. When I left, Doc asked me, right to my face, whether I was betraying them…”
“And?”
“And I didn’t answer. I merely told Doc to get his fingers seen to - Mikel had broken several of them - and that I was going after the nano-vamp. That is the only information they’re going on.”
“And it’s plenty to know you’re a traitor.”
Ragan didn’t much like the immediate dismissal of the idea. It seemed that the trust he’d garnered and carefully cultivated over the years had been stripped away in one fell sweep, both at the CID, and here too.
“Not necessarily,” he was swift to counter. “If I got in touch again now, I might be able to prove my allegiance. I could tell them that I wanted to get Chloe free, and then went after Mikel myself. If anyone has the intel we need to find him, it’s the CID.”
The little breath that escaped Slattery’s lips was almost one of pity. It was as though he knew, and perhaps rightly, that Ragan was trying to make up for things, and this was the best his state of desperation could deliver.
“Ragan, put yourself in their shoes,” he said slowly, as if needing to spell it out for him. “Best case scenario - they believe that, yes, you did do this to save Chloe, but you’re still loyal to the NDSA, and want to retrieve the data for them…”
“Yeah exactly…” started Ragan.
Slattery cut him off.
“But…worst case scenario,” he went on smoothly. “They don’t believe a word of it, know full well that you’re a spy, and will either bring you in, only to imprison you, or merely send you false information in order to sidetrack you and whoever they think you might be working for. Despite what you’ve done, we can ill-afford to lose you as an asset, and we don’t even know what the CID might know.”
“They might know a lot, Colonel. Mikel escaped in one of their jets, from their airspace. They probably have the entire CID tracking him right now, and will almost certainly have better intel than we do.”
“Yes, I’m sure they do. But the truth is, this isn’t something I can green light. What if they zero in on your signal and track you here?”
“I’ll ensure they won’t. I know their capabilities.”
“OK, but what else could you achieve? Do you really think you’d be able to convince them over the phone of your loyalty? Do you really think they’ll just bring you back in, even if they’re willing to overlook what you did?” He shook his head. “Ragan, it just won’t happen. And as I say, any intel they do pass on may well be tainted. I see no good coming from this. My ruling is a firm ‘no’, Agent Hunt.”
Slattery firmed his expression, and refused to turn his gaze from Ragan’s. Ragan held the stare for a few long moments, before dropping his eyes respectfully, and nodding.
“OK, sir. I understand your reasoning. I won’t contact them, if that’s what you wish.”
“Good,” grunted Slattery. “Make sure you don’t. Now I advise you to refocus on the resources we have, and don’t waste your time on fanciful thoughts. We are on the clock, Agent Hunt. Now get back to it.”
Ragan left the room with those words, no more shared between the two. He’d gotten the reaction he expected, and had no real choice but to follow through with Slattery’s order.
Needing some fresh air, he moved out through the building and into the open air of the main yard at the heart of the compound, his skin kissed by the cool mountain breeze as it swept from the higher passes above. The sky was dark now, the black blanket above twinkling. He drew several long breaths, and turned his eyes to the northern edge of the camp, where the soldier’s barracks were set.
He wandered off quickly in that direction, keen to check on Chloe. It had been hours now since he’d left her, though they’d seemed to pass more quickly. Reaching the barracks, he stepped inside, creeping from the cool air, and headed off down the corridor to the left, right to the edge of the building.
Reaching Chloe’s room, he knocked. No reply came. He opened the door up gently, and found Chloe on the bed, curled up on her side. The projector on the entertainment interface was glowing, sending an image onto the wall, lit bright in the dim room. It appeared to be a news article of some kind, the latest murmurings of Chloe’s location after the sighting several days ago.
Above her, hovering about, Ragan saw Remus keeping his constant vigil. The little drone flew slowly towards him, and Ragan lifted his finger to his lips.
“Shhhh,” he whispered. “No point in waking her.”
Remus seemed to understand. If Ragan had been a threat, the drone would have immediately communicated with Chloe’s nanites, bringing her straight back to consciousness. He was her guardian, and knew Ragan to be a friend.
Ragan smiled at the drone, and stretched out a finger. Remus swept down, forming into a bird, and landed upon Ragan’s digit.
“Hey little bird,” he said. “So that’s what Professor Phantom used to call her, huh. ‘My little bird’. That’s why you take that form?”
Remus, in bird form, nodded his tiny head.
Ragan had to lift his spare hand to stifle a laugh.
His eyes guided back to Chloe, breathing quietly. He stepped over towards her, reaching to the discarded tablet to her side, as Remus flew back into the air, turned to a drone, and continued his vigil.
“I’ll just turn this off,” Ragan whispered to the drone. “You’re not scared of the dark are you?” he smirked.
Remus’ form flared angrily, as if displeased by the suggestion. Ragan’s lips parted again, a light rumble working up through his chest.
Turning to the wall, he switched off the projector, and the interface shut down, plunging the room into darkness but for the light of the corridor outside, sneaking through the half open door.
His eyes moved to Chloe again, imagining how many nights she’d spent like that, curled into a ball with Remus floating above her, watching over her, keeping her safe. How much time she’d spent alone, away from the world, never able to stop or settle. How hopeless she must have felt, never knowing the truth, cursing her father for putting her on this path, and the world for hunting her down.
And looking at her, Ragan knew more than ever than he’d made the right decision in saving her from that lab.
And if he could go back again, knowing what would happen?
He looked at her and smiled.
I’d do it all over again.
And with that thought, he turned, left the room, and returned to the command centre, knowing full well that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night.
6
Chloe woke to a flurry of activity.
Instantly awoken by Remus, she felt a familiar surge spread through her body, her eyes opening up like a ventriloquist dummy and taking in the dark shapes before her. There were two silhouettes, storming through the doorway, haloed by the light from the corridor outside.
She had no time to act. Before she could summon her powers, the two figures were upon her, reaching out and snatching at her arms and legs to restrain her. Remus, above, was buzzing around, preparing to zap at the two of them as they grappled with his master. He sent a shock of electricity at one, but it had no impact, absorbed by the attacker’s combat suit.
Chloe got a brief look at the two, garbed in black from head to toe, faces hidden behind combat helmets as they wrestled her wrists and ankles into position, fixing them into restraints. Her voice spread out as a muffle as a mask came down upon her face, blocking out her sight.
Dismissing the fog in her head, she searched through Remus’ perception, and from his viewpoint saw one of the attackers swing across with a net, unfolding as it ensnared the little drone, and plunging him into the darkness.
A hurried rush of movement followed. Chloe could feel herself lifted to her feet, dragged from the room. Her body was hauled easily upon a shoulder, a little way down the corridor, then into another room.
She felt herself flung onto a soft surface. A mattress.
She bounced once, before hands came for her again. She struggled against her shackles as she heard a door being shut. A second or two passed as she heard the two figures step ahead of her. Then, suddenly, a hand came forward, dragging the mask from her face.
The bright light of the room spread into her eyes. She squinted in the sudden glare, before two black-clad figures materialised again. They stood at the foot of the bed, right in front of her. Her gaze lifted straight to their faces, their headgear discarded and dropped to one side.
She saw smiles. Bright white teeth, gleaming in the light. Sparkling eyes full of humour, all but ready to let loose a raucous chuckle.
Chloe’s anxiety swift faded.
It was a damn prank.
Ahead of her, Tanner and Nadia stood, side by side, faces split into smiles and lungs now spewing forth a torrent of laughter.
Chloe stared, heart flaring and eyes creasing into anger, for a good long moment as they enjoyed the sight. Then, through his laughter, Tanner’s voice came bouncing mirthfully.
“Sorry Chloe…so sorry. We just couldn’t resist!”
Chloe’s ire was steadfast. She looked to Nadia, who quickly released Remus from the net in her hand. The drone buzzed out and flew to Chloe’s side, seeking the comfort of her palm as she reached out and snatched him up.
“We didn’t mean to scare you,” Nadia said, looking to both Chloe and the little drone.
Tanner glanced over at her.