Dead Shift (The Rho Agenda Inception Book 3)

by Richard Phillips

  What had stunned Jamal was that he’d just observed a code sequence used as a secret handshake by Enigma members to identify themselves to their fellows. As hard as it was for Jamal to believe, he shared a powerful bond with the leader of the hackers against which he now struggled. The knowledge shook him to his core.

  There was no doubt about it. Something new was happening. Something important. And Jamal couldn’t shake the premonition that his very survival now depended upon figuring out precisely what it was.

  CHAPTER 85

  The uneasiness Jack felt told him that something about this operation was wrong. He just couldn’t put a finger on exactly what it was that bothered him.

  He and Janet, both dressed in black and carrying MP5 submachine guns, moved through the dense woods along the north side of Dry Creek, a rocky streambed that was currently as bereft of moisture as its name suggested. If not for the night-vision goggles they wore, the darkness would have been perfect on this night, when the waning crescent moon wouldn’t make an appearance until shortly before dawn.

  At the edge of a clearing, Jack and Janet halted. On this eastern side of the house, there were no doors, just two bedroom windows separated by a much smaller bathroom window, all of them unlit. Jack knelt and a glance to his left revealed that Janet had assumed a similar position as they waited for word that the rest of the team had reached their assault positions.

  Now his uneasiness had a reason. This whole scene was eerily similar to the ambush Jack had set up in Kansas City. Worse, that voice in his head was screaming TRAP at the top of its lungs.

  Janet’s voice whispered in his earpiece. “Bravo team in position.”

  “Roger,” Spider replied. “Alpha. What’s your ETA?”

  “Two minutes out,” Harry said.

  Jack inhaled deeply. He had no objective evidence to go on, but it was time to let the craziness out. “Spider, this is Jack. We’ve got a problem.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This feels like a setup to me.”

  “Based on what?” Jack heard a note of skepticism.

  “I don’t know. It just feels wrong.”

  After a brief moment of hesitation, Spider spoke again. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

  Then the radios went quiet.

  From where he lay in his overwatch position fifty meters up the hill on the opposite side of the narrow, winding road, Spider studied the front of the house through his infrared scope. Despite the closed living room curtains, he could see the body heat from one person, leaning back in a recliner. The TV that had been turned on earlier in the day had been switched off, leaving the house dark.

  The lounging person concerned Spider. If it was Qiang Chu, where was the Jimenez couple? If it was Mr. or Mrs. Jimenez in that chair, where was the spouse and, more importantly, where was Qiang Chu?

  He shifted to his left to study the southeastern edge of the clearing, just able to make out the kneeling forms of Jack and Janet, although at this distance through the IR scope it was impossible to determine who was who.

  “Alpha in position.”

  “Roger,” Spider said. “Situation update. One warm body on recliner in living room. No others visible.”

  Jack’s warning troubled him. He could see no sign of the trap that Jack sensed, but that was the nature of an ambush. Or it could just be paranoia based upon the trap they’d already stumbled into. No matter. They damn sure weren’t going to catch Qiang Chu if he spooked them into second-guessing themselves.

  Spider shifted his position, scanning the surrounding terrain with his scope, even the hillside above his position. If this was a trap, Qiang would be out there watching for the moment to set it off. Except for a doe and her fawn moving slowly through the woods, he saw nothing of interest. So much for that.

  Spider settled back down into his sniper position and gave the command. “Alpha and Bravo, go!”

  Without a glance to confirm that Janet was also moving, Jack raced across the clearing to his position below the rightmost bedroom window, a flash-bang grenade in his right hand. As he waited for Alpha to start the show, a sudden rush of adrenaline flooded his system, sharpening his senses with a psychic clarity that brought with it a dead certainty.

  Even as he heard the sound of breaking glass followed in rapid succession by the concussions of three flash-bang grenades, he dropped his own grenade and screamed into his jaw microphone.

  “Hit the deck!”

  Jack’s face smacked down into the dirt, the impact cracking his tactical radio. Two seconds later the ground lurched as a bomb exploded inside the house, sending shrapnel ripping out through the walls. But he didn’t stay down. Powered by muscles pulsing with all the force of his thundering heart, Jack tossed his goggles aside and sprinted toward Spider’s distant overwatch position, as a dull-edged dread carved his mind.

  NOT AGAIN!

  From high in the woods overlooking the rural house, Qiang Chu watched through his night-vision goggles as the American agent slipped through the darkness into a sniper position fifty meters below and to the west of Qiang’s hiding position. Whoever the man was, he was very good. Possibly Delta. It wouldn’t matter.

  A thin smile spread across Qiang’s features. The digital copy of Jamal Glover had overcome the best the NSA could throw at it and it had successfully baited this trap, drawing the American agents into the violence Qiang would soon unleash upon them. He had no backup. He needed none. The presence of others here tonight would have only served to alert his enemies and make the job of killing them that much more difficult.

  Then, as if he sensed Qiang’s presence, the American sniper turned, scanning the hillside through his night scope, making Qiang duck behind a rocky outcropping. The American was even better than he’d thought. Qiang waited, allowing the man just enough time to satisfy himself that there was nothing there.

  Then, setting aside his night-vision goggles, he moved through the dark undergrowth so silently that the night insects remained undisturbed as he crossed to a point on the slope directly above the American sniper. Qiang descended slowly, pausing in the thick brush three paces behind the prone man. Freezing in place, he extracted a small RF device from his pocket and waited.

  Suddenly, there was motion in the clearing on both sides of the house, two hundred meters from where he stood, five American agents moving, with well-practiced precision, toward opposite sides of the house. When their flash-bang grenades exploded, Qiang waited, allowing just enough time to let the Americans get inside the building.

  When he thumbed the switch guard, the RF device made a small clicking sound that spun the prone American sniper toward him. But as quick as the operative was, Qiang kicked the man’s gun from his hand and flicked the switch, unleashing the god of thunder on the night.

  Spider heard a click behind him, released his grip on the sniper rifle, and whipped his legs in a motion that landed him on his feet, pistol already in hand. But before he could level his sidearm at the shadow within the darkness, a hard kick knocked the gun from his hand. Behind him, a massive explosion split the night and though he knew it meant the death of some or all of his team, it gave Spider what he most wanted right now . . . enough light to see his enemy.

  Moving with the speed that had left him victorious in every previous hand-to-hand combat situation, Spider drew his knife and attacked, letting his hatred for the assassin fuel his body. With the blade held in a reverse grip, Spider moved into a left-handed boxing stance that extended the cutting edge of the blade toward Qiang Chu.

  Spider performed three rapid jabs that barely missed his opponent’s throat, then stepped into a reverse spin that should have impaled Qiang on six inches of steel. Instead, he sliced air with such force that it hissed over his blade. A foot caught him on the side of his planted left knee and Spider felt it give way, releasing a pain that seared through his body. But he mana
ged to throw his weight into Qiang as the man pressed his attack.

  For the briefest of moments as Spider drove his blade toward Qiang’s stomach, it seemed that his brutal strength would suffice to drive the deadly instrument deep into his target. Then he felt the world invert itself as his two hundred pounds of lean muscle was propelled into the ground with such force that his ribs cracked like kindling. Spider’s next breath brought a bloody froth bubbling to his lips.

  Shoving the pain aside, Spider rolled to his knees as a strange realization filled him with sadness. He could not beat this man. But neither could he give up. So where the hell was his knife?

  Suddenly he saw it, flashing in the light of the distant fire, just before it slid smoothly into his gut, the hand that held it twisting the blade through vital organs. Qiang Chu released Spider and the knife at the same moment, giving him a push that toppled him onto his back.

  Then as an animal howl of rage echoed through the canyon, Qiang Chu looked up, paused, and then sprinted into the night. It was a howl that Spider recognized.

  Then Jack was beside him.

  “Ahhh shit, Spider.”

  Spider felt Jack work to stop the bleeding, carefully leaving the impaling blade in place as he worked to bind the wound. In the distance, the roar of a dirt bike winding up told Spider the assassin was beyond their reach, but Jack paid no attention.

  A fresh gout of blood gushed into Spider’s throat, but when he tried to spit, he only managed to dribble it over his lips. With the last of his strength, Spider managed to grip Jack’s wrist and squeeze.

  “I’m here,” Jack rasped, leaning in close.

  Spider swallowed and spoke, his voice a barely audible gurgle in his own ears. “Jack. Kill that son of a bitch . . . for me.”

  Then, as his vision faded to black, Spider saw the reflection of the distant fire shining brightly in Jack’s eyes. His last perception was the low growl of Jack’s voice in his left ear.

  “I’ll introduce myself.”

  CHAPTER 86

  Janet heard Jack’s warning and dropped to the ground. Then the house splintered as the force of the explosion ripped through it, raining fragments of wood and glass down on top of her. When she looked up, the house was engulfed in flames fed by ruptured propane lines, the intensity saturating her night-vision goggles, rendering them useless. Pulling them up off her eyes, she staggered to her feet and looked around. Jack was gone.

  “Jack,” she said into her radio. “Where are you?”

  He didn’t respond, but Bobby Daniels did. “Janet. You okay?”

  “Fine. Just nicked up. Harry and Bronson?”

  “I’m good,” Harry said. “Bronson’s unconscious but he’s breathing.”

  “Spider,” she asked. “You there?”

  No response.

  “Shit!” Bobby hissed.

  With Spider unresponsive, control of the team had just passed to Janet and she didn’t hesitate. “Harry, you take care of Bronson. Bobby, meet me on the south side of the road. Then we’ll go find Spider.”

  “And Jack?”

  “I’m guessing he’s already there, so be careful about who you shoot.”

  Janet hefted her weapon and jogged out of the clearing, reaching the road just ahead of Bobby. With the fire burning behind her, she knelt, pulled her NVGs back over her eyes, and studied the terrain on the far side of the road. Ten yards ahead of her, thick brush blocked her vision, but as she moved through it, the distant growl of a dirt bike echoed down from the top of the hill.

  “Damn it!” she yelled. “Let’s move.”

  But as she broke out into the open again, Janet came to an abrupt halt, her mouth suddenly bone dry. Coming down the slope fifty yards in front of her, the bright green image of one man carrying the limp body of another filled her with a sudden sense of loss. Nevertheless, she forced herself to hurry toward Jack’s familiar figure.

  “Spider wasn’t wearing a vest,” Jack said, his voice cold. “I doubt if it would have made any difference if he had been.”

  Janet removed her goggles and stepped forward to place her right hand on Spider’s face, a face that still maintained some of its warmth. As Bobby stepped up beside her, Janet felt her anger and frustration mingle with a despair that she somehow managed to keep out of her voice.

  “Jack, bring Spider down to the road and wait while I get the vehicle. Bobby, you get the other one, pick up Harry and Bronson, and head back to Petaluma. If you get unwanted company, turn on your light bar and siren, but don’t stop.”

  Then, without a backward glance, Janet moved back down to the road and let her long stride carry her to the Explorer, unaware of the blood that trickled down her throat from the reopened head wound. She knew that no amount of vengeance could bring back another dead friend.

  But it sure as hell wouldn’t hurt to try.

  CHAPTER 87

  Levi Elias glanced at the time shown in the lower left corner of his laptop’s display. It was 7:25 A.M. eastern time, just over an hour since he’d delivered the bad news to Admiral Riles. Spider Sanchez was dead and Qiang Chu was still on the loose. Raymond Bronson had suffered a concussion and only Bobby Daniels had come through the disastrous raid uninjured, although the others had merely suffered some minor cuts and bruises.

  Lack of sleep was becoming a problem, not just for Levi but for his cyber-warfare team. A bigger problem for this last group was how badly they were getting their asses kicked by the bad guys. More specifically, it was now apparent that the Chinese agents had deployed a form of artificial intelligence that was a high-quality emulation or digital copy of Jamal Glover, one that was good enough to beat the real Jamal Glover, Caroline Brown, and the rest of the assembled Dirty Dozen at their own game.

  Levi rose from his chair and headed toward the admiral’s private conference room and the seven thirty meeting of minds that would determine the plan for defeating an enemy that had somehow acquired a game-changing technology and was on the verge of smuggling it out of the country.

  When Levi walked into the conference room he saw that the others, except for Admiral Riles, were already present: Dr. Kurtz, Dr. Jennings, Caroline Brown, and Jamal Glover, the latter looking like something straight out of a bad horror movie. This was the first time that Jamal had been invited to such a high-level meeting and only the second time for Caroline, a fact that clearly made them both uneasy.

  As Levi sat down, Admiral Riles entered, motioning for everyone to remain seated. When Riles was seated, he surveyed those assembled around the table, his visage grim.

  “So how certain are you,” Riles asked Jamal, “that the Chinese are using a digital copy of you against us?”

  Jamal cleared his throat. “I’m certain of it, sir.”

  “So am I,” Caroline interjected.

  “It’s using all my techniques,” Jamal continued, “and doing it far faster than I can.”

  Levi watched as Riles leaned forward to rest his chin atop cupped fists, elbows on the conference table.

  “If they have that technology, why are they waiting to upload it to some Chinese government server? Or have they?”

  “Caroline and I have been discussing that,” said Jamal. “From what we’re seeing, this AI construct is being contained inside a simulation and doesn’t realize what it is. I’m quite sure it thinks that it is me, not an uploaded copy of my mind.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Levi saw Jamal hesitate and dreaded the coming confirmation of what they all feared.

  “Because, sir, that’s what they did to me. Somehow they downloaded my memories and used them to construct a detailed simulation of the War Room. Then they drugged me and hooked me up to a system that made me believe I was back at work right here. Only I was really working for them. Now that I think back on it, there were a number of clues that something was wrong. But I was too angry about Ji
ll to take the time to puzzle it all out.”

  Levi leaned in to ask his own question. “But now that they have a digital copy, why bother to feed it the simulation? Why not just directly connect it to the Internet and tell it what to do?”

  Jamal frowned. “Because it’s me. Don’t you get it? If I knew what was really going on, I wouldn’t do what they wanted. In fact, I’d be doing everything in my power to undermine them. The same goes for their copy of me.”

  Dr. Kurtz nodded in understanding and agreement. “It’s the classic AI containment problem. One way to try to ensure it has humanity’s best interests at heart is to emulate a person who cares about others instead of just designing an equally smart machine and having it make decisions based upon its own interests.”

  Levi got it. “Which means they’re scared of it.”

  “They damn sure better be,” said Kurtz.

  “So,” said Levi, “the scientist who developed this is an American.”

  Levi felt the intensity of the admiral’s gaze as Riles studied him. “Why?”

  “It explains why Qiang Chu is still here. The scientist has created a prototype that he is now testing against us. He must be refusing to deliver the design until he is confident in the containment mechanisms programmed into the AI.”

  “If so,” said Riles, “he’s playing a very dangerous game. Why wouldn’t they just transfer what they’ve got so far?”

  Dr. Denise Jennings joined the discussion. “He must have programmed a variety of trip wires into the test versions of the AI that would limit its usefulness. If the Chinese think he is close to perfecting a release version, they would wait.”