by Cliff Ryder
They both knew it was as good as decided.
Alex would take the job. He was too white-hat not to.
Alex was folded over a cup of coffee, his gaze turned inward, when Brin joined him. She was dressed for work, not a hair out of place, her brown eyes bright and dazzling. He was the opposite—
careless hair, unshaved, vision murky. When he wasn’t on a job, he was unkempt and relaxed. He kept it casual. He loved that Brin could roll out of bed looking perfect. Her gorgeous blond hair always looked sexy, either smooth and perfect or playful and tussled, his favorite, the way she looked after sex. Or was it just that his love affected his vision?
Brin eased into the chair opposite his and rubbed his hand for a moment. “Sleep well?”
He looked up at her with a smile and a wink.
“Always do, first night home.” He hadn’t told her that he’d been back for almost a month, staying in a nearby hotel until the doctors had finished working him over. It had been incredibly hard not to race right home, to see her and their daughter, but he wanted to know what was going on before he allowed himself the luxury of the feelings his family aroused in him.
“Me, too.” She let loose an uncharacteristically girlish giggle.
Alex took a long sip of his coffee, studying her face over the rim of the cup. He held it in both hands, just in case the tremors returned. So far, they had only affected one hand at a time. He could always steady one hand with the other.
“Things went okay in Mexico, then?” She fiddled with her briefcase latch. “You were gone longer than I thought you’d be.”
“Took longer than I thought,” Alex said. “They don’t have a lot of the resources we do here, but it turned out all right. No worries.” Brin had no idea what Alex really did for a living. She thought he was some sort of security expert, doing contract work all over the world. He wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to handle all the alone time if she’d really known what he was doing in those faraway places. But he couldn’t tell her anything without putting her in danger and he liked the image that she had of him now. Besides, she might actually take exception to his killing people for a living.
Quite a few people seemed to think that it wasn’t the most honorable line of work.
“Glad to hear it.” She turned a bit in her chair, so that she was facing him, and cupped her chin in one hand. “So, how long do we have you for this time?”
“Right up to the moment you get tired of me.
There’s nothing on the radar, so I guess I’ve been gifted with some major downtime.”
“Good. Savannah will be happy to hear that, too.
She misses her big old daddy bear when he’s gone.”
If there was anything sexier than Brin talking baby talk, Alex couldn’t imagine what it was. “I miss her, too. Like I’d miss the air.” He reached for his coffee and a sigh slipped out before he could cut it short.
“Alex, are you all right?”
Confused, his arm paused halfway to his mouth and he frowned at her across the table. “Fine. Why?”
Her arms were folded and crossed on the table.
She nodded toward his hand in a quick jerk of her head and the frown deepened.
Alex looked at his hand, holding the coffee cup almost to his lips, and his breath caught in his chest. It was shaking, and not just a little, but a lot.
Coffee sloshed gently against the sides of the cup.
Quickly, he transferred the cup to his left hand and put it back on the table.
“I’m fine, really. I’m just still a little tired from the trip and all the excitement. Guess I just didn’t realize how tired I was.”
Brin’s face was etched in worry, strained.
“Are you sure? Maybe you should see a doctor or something. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hands shake like that.”
Her tone changed from concerned wife to scientist. He knew that he needed to move on to something else or she would sit and analyze until she uncovered the truth. Part of the problem with being married to a Ph.D. was that sometimes she was too observant for his own good.
“I’m sure. Now, come here, wife!” He held out his arms to her and she rose instantly, slipping around the table.
Alex grabbed her by the hips and swept her into his lap in one easy movement. His lips found hers from experience, resting there as they had done a thousand times before. When he released her, his eyes sparkled.
“If I were sick, could I still do that?” Another wink and a smile.
Brin giggled again and nuzzled his neck. “I guess not. Now, you have to let me go before I’m late for work. You get some rest today. Promise me?”
“Yes, Mother.” He swatted her on the backside, a little too roughly perhaps, but with good humor and great results. “Love you.”
With Brin safely off to work and Savannah hugged, kissed and off to day care, Alex was alone with his misery. He tried to focus, to find a positive he could cling to that would help him map out the next few months or weeks. Days? Nothing worked. He finished his coffee, then puttered aim-lessly about the kitchen before pouring another cup.
He tried thinking about the house, his family and planning for the future, but it was hopeless. In many ways, they were fortunate—far more so than many of the people he’d seen in other countries.
The house was paid for and a college fund for Savannah was already in place, accruing interest.
He had more money tucked away than the family would ever need, and, in all reality, Brin didn’t actually need it. The research lab she ran was on the cutting edge of the hunt to cure a dozen or more degenerative diseases. She made plenty of money on her own.
Sometimes he thought it was marriage to him that held her back from a Nobel Prize or more. And she was a wonder with Savannah. It was true that the girl loved her Daddy, but it was Brin who got the call when knees were scraped or a stuffy nose kept the girl from sleeping.
He couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration that he wasn’t going to be part of building their family, their life—he was going to be a burden on it.
One thing was certain. He couldn’t put off telling Denny Talbot that he was done as a Room 59 agent. They would have to replace him, and quickly. His personal life might have gone into a slide, but he knew the world wouldn’t pay a bit of attention to that. He might even have saved it once or twice—it was all the same to Mother Earth.
Alex stalked to his desk. The computer monitor was dark. He punched the power button and brought the machine to life. As it booted up, he plopped into the leather chair and stared at the screen.
He didn’t even know what he’d say when he logged in. He had his final report on the Mexican operation to upload, but they already knew the details. He’d given Denny a quick debrief when he’d returned. Nothing was really news to Kate or Denny. They probably also knew that he’d nearly screwed up, though they wouldn’t say anything about it. If he’d failed or the mission hadn’t been completed, he’d be hearing about it in spades. His mistake this time had no lasting repercussions, so he was sure that was okay.
The computer screen filled with the smiling faces of Brin and Savannah, and Alex stared at them. He didn’t want to touch the keyboard or the mouse. He didn’t want to disrupt the image. With a long sigh, he leaned forward and typed in the coded keystrokes he’d memorized so long ago. While the commands ran, he removed his virtual reality glasses from a hidden slot beneath his desk and put them on. The image on the screen shifted, dissolv-ing to a slowly spinning number 59 in the center of the screen, followed by a login prompt. This was the first of a multiple-stage process for logging into the ultrasecure Room 59 reporting center.
As he followed the familiar electronic trail, he considered what he’d say once he was in. He knew he’d have to resign. There was no way to continue under the circumstances. It was likely he wouldn’t be in any condition to deliver for much longer.
He passed the final security level and his personal portal opened. To the right we
re icons for a variety of contacts and resources. Down the left side were alerts, memos and communications. The center icon sent a direct chat request to Denny.
Despite using the Room 59 technology on a regular basis, there was still a feel of science fiction to it all as far as Alex was concerned. Virtual offices, avatars, conference and briefing rooms. Anybody could look like anyone, though he’d noticed that humor was not highly appreciated. His initial avatar of choice had been Yoda, the Jedi master from the Star Wars movies. The frowns alone told him to choose something more mundane and now he appeared as a somewhat altered version of himself.
Alex started to open the link, and then stopped.
One of the communications icons was blinking. He had an urgent message waiting for him. He frowned. These were usually reserved for assignments or emergencies. He hadn’t even been home a full month, and they’d never contacted him for his next mission so quickly.
Yet there it was. Alex touched the icon with his virtual hand, and immediately a series of folders opened in front of him. The files were from Denny Talbot and Kate Cochran, including a note that he should review them before checking in for his assignment. A final document opened without prompting, and, curious, he began to read.
It was an intelligence report from one of their Chinese operatives, interspersed with notes from Chinese intelligence, as well as the conclusions of Denny and Kate and Pai Kun, the Room 59 leader for China. Alex’s frown deepened. This intelligence represented a serious threat to the security of the world, but all it had taken was the name of the company, MRIS, to get his full attention. He quickly skimmed the rest of the materials.
He closed the document, minimized the files, reached out and launched the chat icon. The scene in front of him shifted and he was standing outside the door to Denny’s virtual office. Denny had been waiting for him, and when he rapped on the door he heard “Enter,” just as though they were in the real world.
Alex stepped through the doorway. Though he had never met the man in person, Alex suspected that Denny’s avatar was exact in almost every detail.
He had a heavy build and his hair was graying at the temples. Still, he looked strong, and his eyes were sharp. Denny didn’t miss too many tricks, despite the fact that he wasn’t a field man anymore.
“What do you have?” Alex asked without hesitation. “What the hell is this file, Denny?”
“Big stuff, cowboy,” Denny replied. “The Chinese are pretty worried over this one, and if they don’t like it, you know it’s got to be bad. They don’t play well with others, as a general rule.”
“I just got home a few weeks ago,” Alex said.
“I was sort of planning on some downtime.” He knew it didn’t mean a thing; he was buying time and running what he’d read through his mind. He knew he should be telling Denny what the doctor had said. This one was hot, and there wasn’t going to be a lot of time to find someone else to handle it. If there was someone else.
“I know, Alex, and I hate it, especially considering that things didn’t go great for you in Mexico, but I told Kate I’d at least present it to you. We don’t send out operatives this soon unless it’s mission critical, and I like to give my men at least a month or more off between assignments.”
“That’s why I’m surprised,” Alex said. “I’ve always had at least that long—usually closer to six weeks or more—between missions.”
“This is going to be a tough one, Alex. Security is tight, and the schedule is half a gnat’s ass short of insane. We’re under the gun, and you may be our only field agent who can pull it off. You have experience with the Chinese, and you speak the language.”
It was true. Alex had completed two missions in the east in the past ten years. As an Army Ranger he’d been specially trained for Chinese operations—he spoke several dialects, and with some work he could pass for a tall Asian if he had to. Of course, given the right opportunity, he could pass for almost anything.
“The file said MRIS was involved,” Alex said.
“You know Brin works for them. It’s pretty close to home.”
“As far as we know, her work isn’t a part of this,”
Denny said, “but it’s a safe bet that they’re using every resource they have in one way or another, even if the people don’t know it themselves. I doubt there’s any part of the company not involved in this one way or another. I’m sure she’s clean—
we checked and rechecked to make sure—but I don’t know what it will mean for her if they bring this all together. Hell, I don’t know what it will mean for China, or the world, but it won’t be good.
Chemical attacks are bad enough—if they manage to infect someone over here with those damned nanobuggers of theirs, it could get out of control pretty fast. We can’t let that happen.”
“Of course not,” Alex agreed. “Do we have an in? They’re going to be looking for trouble, especially if they’re as close as you say. You sure we have time for this? Might be better to turn one like this over to more standard channels and get them shut down.”
“Can’t risk it,” Denny said so quickly that he must have anticipated the question. He was like that.
“Relations between China and the U.S. are already too strained. Our sources on this are in deep—they can’t be the ones to bring this forward. If we tried it, it would just be seen as us taking another shot at their culture. They’d tighten up, shut us out, and by the time they’d realized their mistake, it would be over. We have to go in—hard, fast and right now.”
Alex didn’t reply. Denny didn’t wait long.
“You want it, cowboy?”
Alex glanced down at his hand. For the moment, it was steady. He thought of Brin, smiling at him and hurrying Savannah out the door. There was such trust in that smile, such love. How could he leave her alone to face—what? A company that wasn’t really trying to cure diseases, but intent on spreading new ones? Would she be safe? Would they come after her, others like her, to force them into creating bigger, better diseases instead of curing the ones they had now? How long before Savannah was in danger?
He sighed. Maybe he wasn’t one hundred percent, but even at ninety he was better than most.
This might be his last shot at doing something that really meant something. Maybe he could beat the MS and still do what he loved.
“I’m in,” he said. “Give me what you’ve got.”
“Timetable transferring to your calendar,”
Denny replied. “You have the files. There are photos, a database of personnel, instructions on contacts and credentials. You know the drill. Once it’s all transferred, and you’re airborne, we’re out.”
“The assignment?” Alex asked. He knew the information would be in the file, but he wanted a few seconds more to back out if he thought of a way to get clear. Nothing came to mind, and this wasn’t a drug lord making things nasty on the border—this was a huge global threat.
“We need the research either retrieved or wiped out,” Denny replied. “It has to be removed from all their systems and backups. We want it utterly gone. There is also a list of key personnel, the people we have established with certainty are behind this. They have to be taken out of the equation so they don’t just recreate the work. There has to be a message sent with this, Alex. It must be made clear that this kind of thing won’t be tolerated. If we hit too hard, we’ll get too much attention—but if we don’t hit them hard enough, they’ll—”
“Just come back like bad pennies,” Alex finished.
“Where do we stand right now for field support?”
“You’ll have a local asset in Beijing who will supply any and all needs beyond your departure.
You have, of course, full run of equipment, data and assistance on this end. That ends the minute you hit the ground over there, so take advantage while you have the chance.”
“Will do,” Alex replied. “Damn. And I was looking forward to weeding the garden this week.”
“You’ll get to it, cowboy,” Denn
y said.
“Yeah,” Alex replied. “I guess. I’m out. I have a lot of reading to do, and then I have to explain to Brin and Savannah why I won’t be taking them camping this weekend.”
“Alex, one other thing,” Denny said. “I tried to talk Kate out of calling you on this one. I know you could use a break—if for no other reason than to finish that report on Mexico.”
“It’s okay,” Alex replied. “I have to do this—you know I do. It’s too close for me to ignore. I’ll get in, do the job and get out as quickly as I can. Plenty of time left for gardening when it’s done.” He grinned. “And I’ll upload the report on my last mission to you before I leave.”
“That’s the spirit,” Denny replied. “Catch you soon.”
Alex left Denny’s office, then brought up the icons again, choosing the one for home. His view shifted and once more he was in his own virtual office. He flipped open the first file. He wouldn’t be able to download or print any of the data, so he had to make the most of the time he had to read and memorize everything they knew. His life might depend on it. What he could safely carry would be waiting for him at the equipment drop—
names, photos and false identification.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Holy five-flaming hell.”
He cursed, and he read, and he drank black coffee. When his hand twitched and then began to tremble, he told himself it was just the caffeine.
Alex had meant to offer his resignation. To call it quits and spend his last good days with his wife and daughter. If Denny or Kate or anyone in Room 59 found out about the MS, the mission would be aborted. They might even take him out to keep him from snapping. He couldn’t let that happen—
he needed this one. It was his chance at the blaze of glory—a final shot at being a hero. This was a mission that could make a difference, and he wasn’t about to turn it down. A warrior without a war to fight wasn’t much of anything.
As far as missions went, it was a good one. Challenging and making the world a safer place. At the least it beat holy hell out of a pile of useless pamphlets and a race to oblivion. It would have to be enough.