Mark Midway Box Set: Mark One, Mark Two, Mark Three, and Mark Four

by John Hindmarsh

  “What kind of communications?”

  “They were all encrypted. It took us a while to crack the key. I had to borrow some serious processing power to get that done. Oliver arranged meetings with them, individually and then some together. They were all very cautious to not include incriminating data. Oliver set up a private email account for these messages. He needs to learn how to hide things like that. We managed to get some electronics in place, and recorded some of the meetings.”

  “Did he communicate with anyone else?”

  “Yes.” Maeve did not elaborate.

  “Oh. Have I been compromised?”

  “Yes; the probability is 100 percent.”

  “You have a file?”

  Maeve held out a small folder. “These are the only paper copies. Of course, my team has soft copies of everything; however those files are encrypted and secured.”

  Schmidt leafed through the paper records, reading each item with care, sometimes backtracking and re-reading. He closed the folder and returned it to Maeve. “Shred them. Keep the soft copies. We need to go to a war footing.”

  “Yes. I’ve contacted some old friends. They’ll help.” Maeve had been in this business for a long time.

  “We’ll need to informally brief the President, as well. Both of us.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Please continue to monitor this group in depth. We need to know who they talk to, what was said, what they plan. All of them, no exceptions, understand?”

  “Certainly. If there’s anything I can do—?”

  “No, not that I can think of. I’ll just have to see where this goes. Maeve, thank you for your diligence, and especially thank you for not hiding any of the details.”

  She smiled and patted his hand. “Sometimes it’s sad, what we do to each other.”

  ***

  Chapter 29

  Dr. White woke when sunlight streamed in through the partially curtained windows. She sat up. She was in a comfortable bed, furnished with high quality white linens. She stepped out of bed onto a hand-knotted silk rug. She was dressed in her usual comfortable night attire. She stepped over to the window. The skyline of tall buildings was totally unfamiliar. She realized she was in an apartment and began to explore. The bedroom had an en suite bathroom; she checked it and there were fresh towels, shampoos and soaps, indeed, all the accoutrements expected in a five star accommodation. The bedroom had a walk-in closet and the few clothes she had packed had been pressed and hung, ready for her selection. She decided to shower and dress, and then she would explore further and try to find somewhere to have breakfast. She was famished.

  Refreshed, relaxed from a wonderful double-head shower, and wearing fresh clean clothes, Dr. White set out to explore the apartment. She stepped out of the bedroom into a living area; in front of her there was a heavy rosewood dining table set for one, on her left was an arrangement of comfortable chairs and settees, and to her right was a kitchen where she heard a clatter of activity. She walked towards the source of the noise. A small Chinese woman, dressed in the white uniform of a chef, stopped in mid-activity and gave her a slight bow, her hands clasped in a prayer-like position.

  “Zǎoshàng hǎo,” the woman said. “Good—good morning. I cook breakfast for you.”

  “Who are you? Where is this?”

  “Sorry. I not understand. My name is Bik—Jade, in English.” She fumbled with a cell phone. “I call.” The ensuing conversation was rapid-fire Chinese. Jade ended the call and said, “Soon someone come. Eat breakfast first. I make tea, coffee, juice, fruit, and Am-American breakfast or Chinese?”

  “Er—American breakfast. Coffee. Thank you.”

  “Please sit. Will take not long.”

  Totally bewildered and not a little alarmed, Dr. White sat at the table as directed by the diminutive chef. Her hands were shaking; she needed food first, then she would address her alarm. Jade brought out coffee, croissants and a glass of orange juice. Within minutes she returned with a plate of fruit and another of poached eggs, with slices of bacon and small sausages. Finally she brought out a rack of toast with small curls of butter on a tiny dish. Dr. White did not hesitate and she ate everything that the chef had prepared.

  Dr. White looked at the empty plates with surprise and not a little contentment. She sipped her coffee. It was time, she thought, to try to discover where she was. She set the cup down and pushed back her chair. As she did so, a melodious chime echoed softly. Before she could move, another Chinese woman appeared from a side room and hurried to the front door of the apartment. She opened the door and bowed to the unknown visitor. A man spoke in Chinese as he entered the apartment. He then walked forward, towards the doctor.

  “At last. Dr. White. Welcome to Beijing,” the stranger enthused. He too, was Chinese, tall, middle-aged. “I apologize for not meeting you at the airport yesterday. I hope you are comfortable, that everything is to your satisfaction?” He held out his hand as he approached. “I’m sorry, I should introduce myself first. I’m Dr. Cheng. Please call me Jiang. I met you—what—five years ago, at a conference in San Francisco. You may remember?”

  She searched her memories. She could recall the conference, and had a distant memory of a discussion with a Chinese doctor. “I have a faint recollection.” She stood and shook hands with her visitor. “Please call me Julia. Now, tell me what this,” she waved her hand at the apartment, “is all about.”

  “Dr. White—Julia—this apartment is yours.” He led the way to a pair of comfortable chairs, at the far end of the living room. “Let’s sit here and talk. The staff are very efficient, and speak English. We’ve made arrangements for you to live here. Far, far better than Paraguay, you’ll find. Also we’ve excellent laboratory facilities, and very intelligent technical people who’ll enjoy working with you.”

  Dr. White drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “So you want to improve your genetic engineering research?”

  “Dr. White, here, in China, genetic engineering on humans is not illegal. You’ll be safe, with no extradition. We’re making advances, but I admit, we’re way behind your work. We want to move forward. With your leadership, we can become the most advanced country in this area of human research.”

  ~~~

  Schmidt summarized for MayAnn and Oliver. “The key people fled. We don’t know the locations of the so-called Chairman, Davis, Jones, or this Dr. White. They just disappeared. Your FBI agents have raided the Cerberus US locations and we’re waiting for final reports. There were no problems, no one was hurt, no property was damaged. We’re trying to identify Cerberus operations in Europe and South America, but all we’re getting are accommodation addresses. We don’t think they have any bases in Asia or elsewhere. We’ve details of all the Cerberus-engineered people and where they’re located, US and overseas. Same with the lab people, from the Genetics Center. We can issue warrants for all of them, either because they are members of a terrorist organization or because they’ve engaged in illegal research.”

  MayAnn cautioned, “We have to establish that Cerberus is a terrorist organization. Good attorneys could keep that burning over slow embers for five years or more. While some Cerberus people have committed crimes, I’m not sure that taints the entire organization.”

  Oliver nodded his head. Schmidt said. “I agree. It’s been a good holding offense, but we’ll have a hell of a task making it stick. Fortunately, the criminal elements in Cerberus have committed other offenses that we can use. So that gives us the alternative of arresting the key offenders in the organization, those who have committed serious criminal offenses, and ignoring the very minor issues. We need to consider them separately for the moment. We can take control of Cerberus resources in this country—the entire organization. There’s an operational business and a large number of people available to us.”

  “You’d have to remove the Cerberus people from law enforcement?” asked Oliver.

  “And from national security operations,” added MayAnn.

&n
bsp; “Perhaps.”

  Both Oliver and MayAnn stared at Schmidt. Oliver said, “You’re not serious?”

  “Think about it,” said Schmidt. “They are excellent resources, if directed properly. We know you have a hundred or so Cerberus people in the FBI. Having identified them, knowing their skills and abilities, would you fire them or use them?”

  “That’s a hell of a question,” said Oliver. “Would they have divided loyalties? Would they continue to report to Cerberus management in addition to the FBI? I’m not sure I could employ a team with divided loyalties.”

  “I would have doubts, too,” said MayAnn.

  “What if you didn’t know they were Cerberus?” Schmidt smiled. “Just for argument sake?”

  “Ouch. The result would be two-three thousand people, their links undisclosed, scattered throughout the FBI, DHS, NSA, CIA—reporting to a Cerberus master. That thought makes me extremely nervous,” said Oliver. MayAnn just frowned.

  “I know, I know,” said Schmidt. “I’m not sure I’d be comfortable, either. However, we need to consider whether there are possibilities? Advantages?”

  “You’re hypothesizing a secret government group with the ability to penetrate, at will, all federal and possibly state-based law enforcement, security, and intelligence operations. Without due process or legal oversight. That’d be worse than the current NSA structure. At least we all pretend their operation is legitimate.”

  “Well, doesn’t the FBI already do that? You run analyses on NSA data. You penetrate various operations, especially if you have evidence of possible criminal activities?”

  “With due process,” replied MayAnn. “There’d be no legal oversight on Cerberus?”

  “You’re right. That’s the stopping point. Otherwise I’m attracted to keeping Cerberus people in place. I agree with both of you, with some reluctance.”

  “So if you take over Cerberus, I assume that’s a possibility, at least in the US, what would you use them for?”

  Schmidt thought for a moment. “Currently we contract a lot of work to Cerberus. ‘We’ being the military, CIA, State Department and possibly others. The government can continue to operate under those contracts?”

  Oliver said, “Yes, that’s feasible. Is it enough?”

  “What else could Cerberus do?” asked MayAnn. “Apart from being some kind of secret spying service, I mean.”

  “Conduct anti-terrorism activities? A rapid response force? Expand their commercial shipping anti-piracy operations? Other options we have—both negative—include closing down Cerberus and letting everyone fend for themselves, or we could jail or institutionalize them all. It seems a waste of potential to have access to thousands of genetically modified people and not utilize them in some constructive manner. A waste for us and for them.” Schmidt did not yet have the answer he needed.

  “What about the children?” asked MayAnn. “I’m not sure we should automatically assume they are cannon fodder.”

  “Another problem entirely,” admitted Schmidt.

  “One we need to address, though,” reminded MayAnn.

  “Indeed. We must do something for them, both the Camp Brewer group, any others we haven’t discovered, and those not yet born. Perhaps the answer is to focus Cerberus as a commercial operation and withdraw everyone from direct employment in law enforcement and other government departments. We can then develop the Cerberus business model and employ these people if they want to continue with the organization and contract them out, perhaps back to those same departments. Assuming Cerberus makes profits—and I suspect it’s been very profitable—it could use the revenue to support the children and others who’ve been genetically modified. We don’t know whether they’ll have health issues later in life, or indeed, what their life quality and expectancies will be.”

  “Cerberus will be able to provide services to the government under contract. I’m happy with this suggestion,” said Oliver.

  “It means we don’t cast everyone adrift,” affirmed MayAnn. “I’d be very disappointed if we ignored the need to provide care and education for all the Cerberus-engineered children. We have to consider the possibility of Cerberus-engineered people having children who inherit their DNA changes, as well.”

  “Good. I’ll prepare a private paper for the President. If he agrees, we’ll have to make sure the military doesn’t take umbrage at the loss of their Cerberus soldiers. They could try to counter our recommendation. I think some of our generals are more than enamored at the thought of having what they regard as human robots at their command.”

  ~~~

  Dr. White sat back in her chair. She and Dr. Cheng had spent almost two hours in intense discussion and, under the circumstances, she was pleased with the result. It seemed Dr. Cheng also was satisfied.

  “Julia, it will be a pleasure working with you. You need to rest for a few days, to recover from your trip. Today is Wednesday, so I’ll pick you up on Monday morning to take you to your new research building. The team will be very excited when they hear the news and will enjoy your leadership.”

  “Thank you. By Monday your bank transfers will have reached my accounts, so our finances will be in order. Excellent timing.”

  “Indeed it is. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I have some very bad news. It seems two of your colleagues—Mr. Davis and Mr. Jones—have each met with serious, no, fatal, accidents. Very unfortunate, but unavoidable.”

  Julia paled. She had not realized her new business partners were that deadly. It was a lesson for the future, she thought. “I—I think I understand. Although they didn’t have the knowledge to compete with you.”

  “Think of it as a protective move. We don’t want to be challenged as we move forward with our developments,” said Dr. Cheng. “We may need to conduct some more—ah—protective actions.”

  Dr. White nodded her understanding.

  Dr. Cheng stood, ready to depart. “Please feel free to explore our beautiful city. We have arranged a car and driver, and a tour guide. The guide speaks English. They are available twenty-four hours a day and will take you wherever you wish. Please understand, it is not safe for you to go out without an escort.” He smiled. “Our desires are only to ensure your comfort and safety.”

  For some reason Dr. White was reminded of a tiger playing with its prey.

  ***

  Chapter 30

  After some discussion with Schmidt, MayAnn and the older children, Mark decided he should close out his apartment and move to Camp Brewer, a stay he expected would last at least a year, if not longer. He was in Boston to pack all his belonging which would be shipped to the Army fort. He had cartons and rolls of tape ready and a lot of packing to do; it was a task he felt he could not delegate. There was far too much computer equipment, either in parts or assembled, to just hand off to some stranger to pack. Bubble wrap and foam padding, he decided, were the missing ingredients; he would need to buy some once he had packed his clothes. The doorbell interrupted his musings.

  “Sam,” he exclaimed as he opened the door. “It’s good to see you.”

  Sam reached out and hugged Mark. “I was disappointed when I heard we’d lost you to the quagmires of Washington. So you’re moving onto an Army base?”

  “Schmidt thinks I need to be there for a year. So, as I said, it seemed unrealistic to keep the apartment here. How’s Evan?”

  “Evan’s well. He broke up with Katrina, a bit of a downer for him, for a while.”

  “What about you? And Julian?”

  “I think it’s fair to say we’re more than good friends. He’s very nice. At first I was worried about Paula; however, she and I are close, now. Are you coming to dinner tomorrow night? Julian had the apartment redecorated, so it won’t hold any bad memories for you. Evan will be there, with his new flame.”

  “Oh, yes. I’ll be there.”

  “Good. Paula is quietly attracted, you know?”

  “She’s a nice girl. I think we’re from two very different worlds, though.” Mark pus
hed at a bundle of flat cardboard cartons. “I’d better make a start. I’m here for only two nights and there seems to be more to pack than I remembered.”

  “Paula and I could give you a hand tomorrow, if you like?”

  “A tempting thought. I’ll see how it goes today, and let you know.”

  After Sam left, Mark carried on with his packing and gradually the stack of packed cartons increased and the items to pack decreased. He had a quick lunch break, purchased additional packing materials, and continued, carefully padding computer components and breakables as he packed them in cartons. The stacks of sealed cartons increased in number and height as the afternoon progressed. He was determined to complete his chore as quickly as possible.

  ~~~

  Anna walked into the large mess hall in Barracks B building, curious as to the activities there. The walls had been decorated with streamers, and balloons floated just above head height. Flowers and candles had been set out on the tables. Preparations for the promised party were well advanced. She assumed it all had been arranged by either General Schmidt or Special Agent Freewell; or, indeed, by both. The dinner was to celebrate both the return of the 145th and recovery of the children, each notable milestones in their way. She watched as contractors set out the flatware for almost two hundred diners. Caterers were already setting up their equipment in the large kitchen and a handful of chefs were beginning to prepare the food. The menu circulated earlier in the day listed a range of Szechuan and other dishes that had everyone looking forward to their evening.

  Anna clutched her stomach; she felt as though she were about to suffer an onslaught of some dreadful nausea and quietly withdrew from the mess. Her agonizing pains were accompanied by a foreboding that she did not understand and did not examine. She decided to return to her room; perhaps if she rested for a few hours, she would improve enough to enjoy the evening’s celebration. She almost staggered across the square to her barracks building, her pain was growing in intensity with every step.