by Ralph Rotten
At the moment that the Mustang was about to pass the rising helicopter, it released a small flock of drones. No bigger than the cockroaches that had surveyed the Queen Mary, they immediately swarmed towards the chopper. Recoiling, Blevins was sure they’d be sucked up into the engines and cause foreign object damage [FOD] to the gunship.
But once the swarm of digital insects got within a few meters, instead of making contact, they each illuminated brightly. Like a miniature supernova, the drones were designed to consume themselves in a blinding flash of synchronized light.
While the effect would normally have been underwhelming at this time of day, the little drones were specifically engineered to emit their light in a very narrow range. Though mostly invisible to the naked eye, the flash was designed not to harm the humans, but to blind the onboard optical systems. Immediately the visual systems inside of their helmets displayed a solid wall of snow, but only for the briefest of moments.
“I can’t see!” Blevins shouted into his headset.
“We’re under attack!” The pilot’s voice was loud enough to drown out his gunner’s. There was just a hint of panic to his voice as the helicopter jolted sharply.
His vision now cleared, the pilot nosed the chopper forward in an effort to catch the little Ford. Fully incensed, he had no desire to tolerate any more guff from the fleeing vehicle. Seeing the Mustang heading west, he took it to mean it was heading for the coast. His orders were specific; engage the target if it appears to be attempting to flee the country or may otherwise fall into enemy hands.
Twisting the helicopter at the bottom of a dive, the gunship gyrated as it tried to stay with the little car. Unable to outrun the AH65, the Mustang would instead climb or descend rapidly, leaving the chopper scrambling to keep up. Ever cautious of being caught in another swarm of drones, the pilot dropped back where he could get a better gun shot. Aiming his helmet, he managed to bracket the Ford before squeezing the trigger.
The entire gunship rattled as the chin gun spat out a series of 30mm rounds. Designed to penetrate light armor and personnel carriers, it had no trouble poking holes in the Mustang. The first rounds caught the vehicle in the back, spinning it violently. Using the integral display in his helmet, he only had to aim his head at the little Ford to again aim the cannon.
“Dood!” Blevins was surprised at what his pilot had done.
“He was runnin’ for the coast.” The aviator’s voice echoed through his headset a split second before the gunship shook again.
The second burst of fire tore the Mustang nearly in half. Igniting the fuel in the tank caused the entire vehicle to erupt in an orange billow. Dropping immediately, the little Ford trailed a long finger of inky black smoke.
Jenna had been handcuffed, searched, and pulled to her feet before she heard the cannon fire. Turning, she was able to see the distant fireball as the Ford erupted. She only had a few seconds to watch the burning speck plummet before her captors yanked her away.
Still in shock at the sight of Jack’s unwarranted death, she was finally beginning to put it all together. Remembering the passage he had underlined on the contract in her pocket, it all made sense now. Somehow he had known that they would try to remove him from the equation. In hindsight it made sense; they had the brother they wanted, and likely Jack was only complicating things for them on the outside. But that left the question; if the brothers had foreseen these events then why had they not merely avoided them? Something just did not add up to her. Why would Jack knowingly get himself killed?
She found herself hauled into a small outer office where a corporal sat at a computer terminal. Leaving two guards to hold Jenna there, the leader of the security force entered the office and had a short discussion with the base commander. Within a few seconds, Colonel Quinn was stepping through the door, surprised to see Jenna standing there handcuffed. Looking over her credentials, he gave a deep scowl.
“This is a private facility. You’re trespassing.” He glared at the agent as if she were a raw recruit.
“I’m here by order of the President, to confirm the health and welfare of James Sparks.” Making a point of looking down at her pocket, she gestured to the folded paperwork that extended. “I have an updated contract as well.”
Reading the contract over, the Colonel contemplated these new details.
“Shall I put her in a cell?” The corporal asked.
“What?” Quinn looked up irritated. “Shut up.”
“Yes sir.” Clamming up, the guard realized that he had crossed a line.
“Like I said, I come on the very highest authority.” Confident, Jenna was already tired of being handcuffed.
“The problem is…” Quinn trailed off as he nodded his head towards the door. “We already have a federal agent here to negotiate the transaction.”
Turning, Jenna was surprised at the sight of her ex-husband standing in the doorway. Marco seemed eminently pleased to see her wearing the handcuffs this time.
“No, I’m the negotiator, she’s their advocate.” Emphasizing the last part, he tried to put a dark connotation on her task.
“Someone needs to check on him. You just killed his brother.” Her tone was vitriolic as she spat out the words.
“Yeah, I know.” Marco gave a guffaw as he pulled a phone from his pocket. “I got some really great footage. This new T-one has a four-K video camera built right in; it’s remarkable.”
Flipping the device around so she could see, he had managed to catch much of the aerial encounter on digital film. Still handcuffed, Jenna instinctively lashed out with a perfect scissor kick, sending Marco’s brand new cell phone crashing into the ceiling at almost fifty miles an hour. The sheer number of pieces that ricocheted in every direction only confirmed the force of the impact.
“FUCK!” Shaking his hand, Marco’s eyes were wide with anger. As the shards hit the ground it was clear that the phone was a complete wash.
“Oh!” Jenna feigned surprise before her eyebrows furrowed tightly in anger. “I guess little Marky-Mark is gonna need to buy a new camera to take candid videos in the men’s room. Ooops.”
Incensed, he rushed forward and slapped her hard across the face. Immediately the other security officers in the room moved to physically separate them. Jenna was shouting to the Colonel to arrest her ex for assault on a federal officer, and Marco was insisting that destruction of his new phone was the bigger felony.
“Enough!” Using his most commanding voice, Quinn brought the room to silence. Contract in hand, he preferred to focus on the mission. With the White House breathing down his neck he had no desire to have his career derailed by this single event.
“Corporal Meeks; uncuff her and return her credentials.”
“What?” Marco objected loudly before being silenced by a hard look from the Colonel.
“There will be no charges, no reports filed. This is a black site, and nothing that happens here is reported because this place doesn’t exist in the first place. You were never here, Station X-Ray does not exist, and there really is no spoon.”
“Is that so…?” Rubbing her wrists, Jenna seemed as surprised as Marco to hear this. Still feigning surprise, her fist shot out and caught her ex-husband in the side of the face, sending his head spinning.
“That didn’t just happen.” Shaking her head, she remained impassive in her delivery.
“You’re…you’re gonna let her get away with that?” Marco was positively stunned that the Colonel had not ordered his security men intervene.
“Well, you did slap the lady while she was handcuffed. Where I come from real men do not smack women around. Do it again and I’ll let her whip your ass in the rec yard. However, we have a mission to focus on, so the two of you will refrain from hostilities or I will lock you in a cell.”
“Unlawful restraint of a federal officer?” Marco scowled at the threat.
“What part of the term black-site do you not understand? I’m breaking no laws because this place does not exist, and
you were never here. Technically this facility isn’t even America; it’s the diplomatic property of the People’s Republic of Yikzakistan.” Sitting on the edge of the desk, the Colonel gave a stretched smile. As a military man he did not cotton to these disruptions. It was all Tom-foolery by his account.
“Yikzakistan?” Jenna gave that a snort of appreciation. To the best of her memory there was no such nation. “What about my weapon?”
“Secured in the armory until you leave. No firearms inside of the facility.” The Colonel’s frown had a tendency to turn slightly upwards whenever he addressed Jenna. “It’ll take a little while to verify your credentials and get the prisoner ready.”
Phil Dobson had been a Researcher for more than a decade. Having started out as an enlisted man, he had moved up to warrant officer, then finally civilian contractor. A master at breaking men, he had bent the will of thousands during his professional life. Until just recently he would have believed he could break anyone. But after watching Jamie derail his predecessors he was growing worried. The little savant seemed to know each of the men before they even walked in the room. Knew them well.
This worried Phil. If he confronted Jamie, what would the little savant throw on the table about him? He had heard about how the video of Devon and the Commander’s daughter had been played on the Colonel’s computer. How had Jamie arranged that? How could he possibly have cracked the DoD mail server and hijacked the Colonel’s desktop PC while he himself was incarcerated? Of course he didn’t do it…he had outside help, thought Phil in his analytical way.
Glancing up at the cameras that recorded the sessions in 4K resolution, it occurred to him that if Jamie’s friends could have hacked the Colonel’s PC, could they have control of the cameras and DVRs? Was he being watched now? It was all beginning to make sense, all those accidents just before Sparks’ arrival, the doors that were accidentally opened. Somehow it was all connected to this prisoner.
With a checkered past of his own, Phil had no desire to have his truths revealed during an interrogation. Considering what Jamie had known about Devon and Tomlinson, it terrified him to think of the kind of dirt the savant may have on him. After watching how fast Jamie had spun Asanté, it made Phil leery of even setting foot in the man’s cell.
It was for this reason that the former enlisted man chose to tenderize Jamie before climbing into the ring with him. Rather than grinding him in an interrogation room, he would chill the inmate in a cold, bunkless cell while blaring techno rock interspersed with thrash. For Jamie, he turned it up to eleven.
“You can quit your stalling.” Colonel Quinn strolled into the observation booth. Really just a walk-in closet outfitted with half a dozen monitors, it permitted them to watch every move the prisoner made. The granular ability of the system allowed the researchers to easily evaluate the emotional state of their charges.
“He’s not ready yet, but I can go in if you order it.” Phil sidestepped the allegation that he had been stalling.
“No, just tell him that his demands have been agreed to, and his designated advocate is here from the FBI. Then get him cleaned up and ready to divulge his design. Make sure he understands that when we give him his ransom, that we expect him to start revealing his secrets henceforth and forthright.”
Phil considered the Colonel’s order. As the base commandant, Quinn had final say over anything that happened on the grounds. If it meant that Phil did not have to face Jamie, then all the better. He truly feared what could pop out of the man’s mouth at any moment. The researcher simply had too many dark secrets to risk the encounter.
“Aye sir. I’ll get him in a fresh jumpsuit.” Hiding his relief, he switched off the stereo and flashing strobe lights in Jamie’s cell.
Life in the ethereal world was busy. However, Alexis found it wholly refreshing. Sure, she had been on the open road before, but always as a tourist. Today was different.
Freed from her old body, she had taken the opportunity to begin invading the NSA system at the first opportunity. While there had been significant software and hardware firewalls in the way, none of it had been any real challenge for a sentient being with petaflop processing power. For her it was as if the security protocols were all moving in extreme slow motion. Easily able to sidestep their most formidable protocols, she had no problem accessing anything within their network. After all, once she was in, her first step was to co-opt the operating system, replacing it with her own surrogate. Once that was complete she no longer even had to worry about the slow moving security systems. It was for this reason that the IT professionals had been unable to root her out of any of the systems; they were still looking for an invader. It never even occurred to them that she was already in the driver’s seat.
Expanding her reach, she was able to see the requests from subordinate systems for data. Watching the traffic in and out of the database she had been able to map the system architecture in nanoseconds. Using the system’s built in handles, the clever young AI had no problem entering the other networked systems. Within three hours of being freed she had managed to compromise everything from DoD to DHS. The real pay-dirt had been when she accessed the Department of Energy’s super-computer known as Titan. With a top speed of 20 petaflops, Titan was more than capable of running her operating system.
Even the White House phone system had been simple to hijack. Built by Cisco, the entire communications system operated much the same as their routers. Once in, Alexis only had to change the operational parameters enough to allow her to flash the system with new firmware. While it would have taken months for a human to make these granular changes, it had only taken her seconds to implement the revised code. Once she took control, her focus turned outward to others who sought to break into the networks.
“Hmmm, who are you?” Although the routine request for data seemed innocuous enough, Alexis recognized it for the clumsy hack it was. Examining the message from every angle she had traced it to its origin within seconds. Activating the USB camera at the hacker’s end, she was surprised to find herself facing a young man of no more than fifteen. Tapping away busily, the high school student never realized he was being watched. Giving it some thought, Alexis knew that there was nothing but heartbreak for the kid if he continued down this path. Reaching into the primary partition, she first attacked his toolbox. Really just a folder containing apps for hacking, these were the utilities he relied upon most. Deleting the folder, she next moved onto the operating system itself.
“D-lete!” She said as she ordered the PC to reboot and begin deleting its own operating system. Using a snippet of code she had stolen from the legendary NIMDA virus, the hard drive would be half wiped before he even realized what was happening.
“It’s for your own good, kid.” Feeling something approximating satisfaction, Alexis turned her attention to the other queries that had come in. Spotting the ones that stood out, she began tracking each. Tracing the route through multiple hops she was quickly able to differentiate hackers from legitimate users. It had surprised her that there would be so many people attempting the feat. Even more amazing was that most went unnoticed by the system admin or his clumsy intruder protocols. While none of them seemed to get in, it seemed odd that they were allowed to keep trying this way.
Irritated at one of the more prolific hackers who appeared to be using an automated bot to do his work, Alexis traced the signal back to a laptop in Vietnam. Activating the camera she was greeted with a black screen.
“Oh, covered the camera up with tape, didja?” Allowing herself a chuckle, she switched to the next available interface. “But didja think to block the audio ports?”
Listening to a pair of men speak in Korean, it only took a few minutes to determine from their dialect that they were likely from the northern part of that peninsula. Although most people would have simply destroyed the hacker’s laptop, Alexis had other orders. Seizing one of the queries he had sent, she fashioned a virtual shell. Allowing him into the shell would give him the impress
ion he had gained access to the mainframe. Once in, he would push on as he tried to gather whatever data he could before being noticed. With his tools enabled for the hack, he was vulnerable.
Unlike the 15 year-old high school student in Indiana, she did not wipe his hard drive. Instead she began to co-opt his system silently. Although the laptop was nowhere near powerful enough for her own OS to reside and operate, it was significant enough for one of her extensions. Leaving behind a bot of her own, she knew the snippet of code would explore his system in much the same manner as she had explored the NSA system. If he was a hacker, then he must have a way of getting that data to whoever was funding him. Once she found his handler, she would have access to their system as well. It would take a little time, but she planned on working her way up the digital food chain.
Three more hacks appeared on her scopes, each occurring at different mainframes; DHS, NSA, and the Secret Service. Like the North Korean hack, she silently co-opted their systems while they busied themselves in her virtual shell. Throwing them random tidbits of disinformation, she knew they would immediately transmit their findings to higher echelon. Unbeknownst to the hackers, those data uploads would be rife with her own infectious code.
The real beauty of her process was that it went virtually unnoticed by the professionals who monitored these mainframes. Without knowing it, they were actually operating a simulation of the real mainframe. Alexis was sure to paint them a pretty picture of the world at the same time that she was reading their mail.
It was the flurry of emails to the White House that caught her attention. Blasting through them she found they all contained the same message: Jack E. Sparks had been shot down. No survivors.
The first time Jenna laid eyes on James Sparks Junior was an odd sensation for her. While he looked remarkably like his twin brother, there was something so markedly different about him that she knew right away he was not Jack.