M
ark Brown, the suspected syringe man and the FedEx guy, lived in a working class apartment building on Roosevelt Road in South Chicago. His apartment was on the top floor of the six story structure. There was no elevator and only an outside rusting metal emergency exit as the second exit.
The ten man SWAT team roared up on the busy street in two black vans. There were several police cars and an ambulance a few blocks behind them. Eight men immediately broke for the front door and two circled around to the back to block the emergency exit. Three cameras were recording the takedown. They were attached to the helmets of the SWAT officers. Marlene Moore watched the action on her monitor.
The SWAT team was dressed in black kevlar and armed with their customary SWAT assault rifles, but three of the men also carried a stun gun as well. They intended to render the suspect unconscious and take him in custody.
They knew that Mark Brown was home. A female police officer had called his home number only fifteen minutes earlier, pretending to be a telemarketer. She reported that he didn’t seem at all suspicious.
It was mid-afternoon on a workday and the street around the building was completely deserted. The police officers quickly streamed into the building and silently climbed the six flights of steps to the top. They were soon parked outside the suspect’s door. A listening device was attached to the door, but no noise was heard other than a television game show turned up a little too loudly.
“No movement inside,” the technician told the leader.
“We go on three,” the SWAT leader said. One of the men carried a battering ram. He got into position.
At the count of three, the door shattered and the experienced professional SWAT team poured into the flat. They all had prearranged assignments, yelling “Clear” as they swept through the apartment.
They found Mark Brown in the shower. A bullet had been inserted into his head. He was dead.
“How the hell did this happen,” the SWAT leader lamented.
“It looks like somebody shot him. He was murdered,” one of the officers stated the obvious.
“Damn,” the SWAT leader shouted. “Start looking for evidence while I call this in.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
B
ernard Schultz closed his cell phone and turned towards Brenda. “Aldo says the task is complete. The FedEx man is dead. He checked for any evidence and found that the idiot had left some used syringes in his kitchen. Aldo left one sterile syringe to implicate him,” Bernard told her. “He said a SWAT team showed up minutes after he left the building. It’s a good thing he got there quickly.”
Brenda didn’t react to the news, she had already moved on. “Well, is phase one complete then?” she inquired. “I’m anxious to get to the next phase.”
“It will be as soon as they find the woman we used for the distribution of the books,” the old man replied happily. “Things are going well so far.”
“I’m still not too sure why we even had a phase one,” Brenda always sought the quickest route to an end.
“I’ve told you many times that phase one was necessary and had two real purposes,” he patiently replied. “First we needed to test our machines on some unsuspecting humans and secondly we wanted to get publicity for the Aryan cause.”
“Yes, I know the goals Bernard,” she replied impatiently with a wave of her hand dismissively.
“I believe we have accomplished both those objectives, don’t you think?” Bernard said.
“But isn’t killing our own people bad publicity?”
“My dear,” Bernard said with a sinister grin. “As many have said before, ‘Any publicity is good publicity’.”
Brenda nodded her head in understanding. “Well, there is no question that many of our white Aryan brothers are outraged by the killings. This will certainly improve recruitment for the Effort, and be a strong rallying cause for our people. I can see the slogan now, ‘Remember the twenty-five’,” she said as she waved her arms over her head.
“And the inmates who died were never going to help the cause in any other way. They were never going to be released from prison. We killed two birds, or maybe jailbirds, with one stone,” Bernard said jokingly and started laughing as if he was an insane person.
“Okay, so when does phase two start?” Brenda suddenly asked. She was done with the discussion about phase one.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A
fter Marlene explained what had happened to the FedEx guy, she signed off to investigate the other leads in the case. The murder of the syringe dupe fortified Banyon’s belief that a sophisticated spy ring was involved. Is it the Chinese, he wondered, but didn’t say anything to anyone else. He just wasn’t sure yet.
The next person on Bart’s list was Timmy, the computer geek from the home office. He was charged with getting them up to speed on nanobots, but was not privy to their case. Bart wanted to keep him out of the loop because Timmy was a known gossip. Anything he heard would be immediately spread all over the office and probably everywhere else, and the team was working in complete secrecy.
Banyon pressed the Bluetooth connector and said, “Connect me with Timmy.” Banyon knew each office of the law firm had a resident geek who performed the IT functions, so all he had to do was request a connection. He wondered if the Las Vegas geek was as good as Timmy was with a computer.
The screen blinked and suddenly Timmy’s smiling face appeared. He was dressed in his usual jeans and tee shirt. It looked like he hadn’t combed his hair in weeks. “Hey dude,” he said to Banyon. “How’s it hanging?”
Timmy was brilliant but slightly eccentric. He was often goofy and was very young, under twenty years old. He was completely consumed by all things electronic and high tech. Banyon had taken the juvenile, socially awkward hacker under his wing sometime back. Timmy was making progress as a person but was sometimes hard to follow when talking or discussing anything having to do with technology.
“Timmy,” Banyon started. “I’m told you can fill us in on what is going on with the technology of nanobots. Are you ready?”
“Oh great one, I’m always ready,” he replied with a snicker. “Me and my Mongolian playmates have been putting reams of data together for you. I’m sending it now,” he gushed as he hit a send button.
“Can’t wait to read it all,” Banyon said sarcastically.
“You know, Colt,” Timmy continued. “Now that the girls aren’t blue anymore, I’m dating one of them.”
Banyon and his team had helped rescue six young Mongolian women from slavery about a year ago. Their tormentors had fed them silver, mixed with water which turned their skins blue so they wouldn’t try to escape. The Mongolians were all expert programmers and Dewey & Beatem had hired them, once they were freed. They all now worked for Timmy.
“This call is about nanobots,” Bart reminded Timmy in a stern voice.
“Yes, sir, oh wise one,” Timmy quickly said and bowed using both hands extended straight out towards the screen. He then started his lecture. “Nanobots are more correctly called nanorobotics. That refers to the nanotechnology and the engineering discipline of designing molecular sized programmable machines.”
“Speak English,” Bart roared.
“Okay, Darth Vader,” Timmy responded. “I’ll dumb it down for you.” He then began speaking in a normal voice. “Nanobots are very tiny machines. Some are the size of a molecule or even smaller. The theory of developing nanobots has been around since about 1959. There has been some success in using them as sensors, especially for medical purposes, but so far, no one has actually developed a working model.”
“That is until now,” Banyon noted under his breath.
“Why not?” Loni asked.
“Well, in order to have a workable prototype, you would have to overcome several difficult design issues,” Timmy continued.
“And they are?” Loni pressed him.
“There are four major issues,” Timmy quickly responded. “Th
e nanobots need to sense and navigate where they are going. They have to have some form of locomotion to get around. They would require some sort of onboard computing system and finally, they would need to communicate.”
“Communicate? Who would they need to communicate with?” Loni asked.
“They would have to communicate with each other. One single nanobot would accomplish nothing,” Timmy responded. “They would have to travel in huge groups, many billions traveling together, and thanks to Star Trek, scientists now refer to a large group of nanobots as ‘grey goo’ or ‘swarms’. To travel together, they would have to be able to communicate with each other as they swarm to their objective.”
“How on earth could someone produce that many nanobots — they are so small?” Haleigh asked as she scratched her head.
“In theory, you would build two or more types of nanobots, those to do the job, they are the workers, and those to replicate, or build, the workers. The replicators would self-generate and begin spitting out workers at a fast clip. There would, however, also have to be some way to store the workers until the swarm was large enough.”
“Can that be accomplished today?” Banyon asked. “Could a large swarm be developed and stored?”
“Many scientists believe it will be ten years or more before a swarm of nanobots could become large enough to become useful,” the geek replied.
“Are there any recent breakthroughs that could speed up the pace?” Steve asked, always concerned about changes in technology and therefore changes in security.
“Rumor has it that scientists have been able to reduce a programmable computer chip down to the molecular level. That would solve the sensory, navigation and communication issues. Locomotion is still a big issue.”
“Why?” asked Loni.
“The power supply for the machines would only be the size of an atom. They would run out of energy very quickly.”
“How long do the scientists think nanobots will function before they run out of gas?” Bart asked.
“Right now the popular thinking is about twenty minutes, once it leaves the protective solution,” Timmy replied.
“Let me put you on hold a second, Timmy,” Banyon said and quickly hit the escape key to stop Timmy from listening in on their conversation.
“The nanobots that were used for the murders had to live for at least three days,” Banyon noted.
“My God, this is beyond what scientists even believe,” Loni said as her hand went to her mouth in horror. The other members of the team fidgeted where they stood. This information was becoming very unsettling.
Banyon hit the escape button again. “Timmy is there any possibly way you know of to extend their ability to function and make the nanobots last longer?”
“Not that anyone knows of,” he quickly corrected him. “But we already know there are several solutions, liquid pools, made from chemicals, which can keep them in suspended animation for up to two weeks. After that, they will start to erode and malfunction as the solution would not be able to sustain them.”
“Maybe that’s how they did it,” Loni accidently said.
“Did what?” Timmy suddenly asked with interest.
Banyon quickly cut in to keep Timmy from probing further. “So, if they are in this solution wouldn’t they be noticed and how do they activate?”
“That’s simple, man,” Timmy responded and waved is hand. “First of all the solution pool would be microscopic. But it would have to be on some surface that didn’t activate the nanobots, something like metal or plastic. Second, the nanobots could be programed to automatically activate when they came into contact with their target.”
“Does that include humans?” Banyon cut in.
“Someday, we will be able to program them down to a DNA type. They will be able to seek out only people with cancer for example.”
“Timmy, what do the most radical thinkers say about nanobots? What do they think will be the future?” Banyon coyly asked.
“Now you are hitting my sweet spot, dude,” he replied cheerfully. “The application of nanobots would revolutionize many existing industries. They could deliver medicine to sick or injured people, examine any building or structure at the tiniest level to determine any weakness or design flaw. It will also change the way we view television and communicate, cause the redesign of virtually every electronic device and eventually replace the way we design and build almost anything.”
“Explain that?” Banyon asked.
“The nanobots will build products from molecular size up to the finished product. One day you’ll go to a machine, press a button and a chair will spit out.”
“Are there any other possible applications?” Bart asked.
“Good question,” Timmy replied. “If you follow science fiction, nanobots are often used as a weapon to kill people. You could even program them to attack specific targets based on genetics.” A shudder went down Banyon’s spine.
“How could you possibly stop them?” Steve asked.
“Well, if you were to get them in the open, almost anything will stop them, even water. Your best bet would be something acidic,” Timmy responded. “The acid would corrode their moving parts. But if they get to their destination, it will only take seconds for them to perform their function and then they could self-destruct. It’ll be lights out.”
“Timmy, I’ve got one more question for you,” a concerned Colton Banyon uttered.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“P
hase two will start this evening, after our inept government finally tracks down the woman,” Bernard told her.
“Why start then?” She asked.
The old man raised his fist in the air for emphasis. “I want confusion, chaos. I want the government to be chasing their own tails. I want everyone to know how vulnerable they are, especially the President,” the old man spoke like a true fanatic.
“Yes, yes, you’ve said all that before, but how is it going to happen?” Brenda was never very patient with Bernard when he went into a tirade.
“I’m sending the President an email tonight,” Bernard said seriously. When Brenda’s eyebrows rose, he continued. “Don’t worry, it’s being sent from another unsecured location. They’ll never find anything there.”
“What’s in the email?”
“I’m advising the President that the killings, using nanobots, will start in two days,” Bernard grinned.
“You’re warning him? Why? That doesn’t make sense.” Brenda could not understand why the old man insisted on creating deceptions and diversions. She just wanted to get the project going.
“That’s right,” he replied, smiling evilly. “I’m going to order him to disarm the population immediately. I want him to order a complete and immediate ban on all guns in the entire country. I want a shoot to kill order whenever a gun is found. We need to get as many guns off the streets as possible.”
“Or you will begin the killings?”
“No,” Bernard replied emphatically. “We are going to kill people anyway.”
“Now you are really not making sense,” Brenda huffed.
“I will explain that the killings are inevitable, he can’t stop them, and there will surely be rioting in the streets once the killings start. Remember we want the least amount of collateral damage possible. We don’t want good white Americans murdered.”
“But he can’t ban guns without the consent of Congress can he?” Brenda asked her father.
“In two days, there will not be a Congressmen or Congresswomen to stop him,” Bernard laughed. “He’ll be forced to institute the ban.”
“You’re going to kill everyone in Congress with nanobots? Brenda burst out — it was a mocking laugh.
“Yes, we are,” he said with a crazed look on his face. There was the fire of a fanatic in his eyes.
“Hmm, that’s actually a good idea. Most of them are just greedy pigs anyway. We can do without them.”
“We should get at least half in the first wave.
The rest will immediately vote to allow the gun ban, or they will face complete annihilation,” Bernard said fanatically. “At worst, Congress will cease to function.”
“So phase two is notifying the President to ban guns and then kill a bunch of Congressmen to encourage him, right?”
“More or less,” the old man said.
“Well, that will certainly put the government in chaos,” Brenda agreed. “How many people are we going after?”
“There are less than six hundred people in all of Congress. But I want to prove that we have the ability get to anyone. Those killings are already in the works. Some Congressmen will start dying tonight before the President even gets my email.”
“And if he still refuses even after all the Congressmen are dead? Then what?” she questioned.
“Many more government people will die,” Bernard hissed. “We do have a contingency plan.”
“Tell me about the contingency plan?”
“It will only help our cause,” Bernard explained with fire in his eyes. “We’ll start cleaning out the many secret government agencies like Homeland Security and the FBI. We’ll make them incapable of functioning.”
“Well, let’s not weed out the wrong people. We’ll need them in the future.”
“I’ll make him submit or someone else will do it later and he will also be dead. In either case it will accomplish our goal,” he blustered.
“And precisely, what is our goal?”
“Brenda, the first step in conquering a nation is to disarm the people. That’s exactly what the great Adolf Hitler did in Germany.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“B
ut if these nanobots can provide so much good to the world, why would anyone ignore that and use them as a killing device. Wouldn’t the inventors make billions of dollars by patenting their invention?” Loni wondered out loud. Banyon had put the screen on mute while the geek went to collect some data to answer Banyon’s question.
A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10) Page 8