Critical Asset

by Ian Tonnessen

  Several times Candemir mentioned the outlandish possibility of Dirac Station as a ‘false flag’ target, and hinted that he had an indirect contact there, but did not know how to pin an attack there on the Silvers. Demirci’s own ideas, such as a cyber-attack on the party’s finances, did not seem feasible, either. The plans they had were either impractical, inadequate, too reliant on wishful thinking, offered no plausible deniability, or were just too likely to fail. For the time being, the Arrows kept preparing themselves, protecting their organization by compartmentalizing who knew what as they sought out new members.

  Aydin’s ideas for coup options began to change on the first Saturday in September, 2065. It was the day of Safiye’s wedding to Oz’s youngest son Kerem; officially an arranged marriage, but one which made both Safiye and Kerem very happy. Both families gathered for the celebration, including Azmi who was now an ambitious young lieutenant in the Army. In the past year Oz had transferred to the Space Technologies Research Institute in Izmir, and during the reception that day he whispered to Aydin some shocking news from the Arrows: they had acquired a container holding over two kilograms of antihydrogen, siphoned from production at Dirac itself and brought to Earth by a sympathizer on the station. The container held enough explosive power for ninety-six megatons, well over six thousand Hiroshimas.

  A couple weeks later, Oz brought Aydin news from an Arrows contact. There had been a massacre of Kurdish civilians in Ağri. A bomb detonated inside a regional air base and killed five of the ground crew, and Iron Wolves intelligence believed the bomber was hiding in a nearby village. The troops pulled twenty families out of their homes and slaughtered them. This was not the sort of story the public ever heard about, though the story itself was not an unusual one coming from Oz’s sources. What made it unusual was the unit involved in the massacre: 3rd Army, 9th Corps, 35th Internal Security Brigade – Azmi’s brigade.

  To Aydin, the solution became clear, so clear that he couldn’t believe he had not let himself think it before. Not only would a nonviolent solution never work, but a lack of publicity would not work either. They would need a popular revolt against the Silverist regime. The Arrows must create a violent spectacle for the world to see, and it would need to be a false flag, something which appeared to be caused by the Silverist government. Perhaps it could even be something they could pin on the entire Hras al-M’umnyn. At a minimum, it would have to be something which would compel the Democratic Alliance to declare war on Turkey and force the Silver Wolves from power. He started thinking about Oz’s antimatter.

  The plan to destroy Dirac Station was Demirci’s brainchild. He was ashamed of it, but it was sure to produce the war the Seventh Arrow needed. It would be a disgrace to attack the place that represented the forefront of modern science, he felt, the place that was developing the technologies that he had heard of only as theories when he was a student, but it was still far more humane than using smuggled antimatter to destroy a city. It could at least be done during a holiday, when most of Dirac’s personnel would be home on Earth visiting their families. The Silvers could not possibly hide the station’s destruction from Turkey’s public. But while the use of Oz’s antimatter to destroy the station had already been suggested, it didn’t seem practical enough for use as a false flag operation. It would be too easy for the DA to assume the blast was the result of an accident, and easier still for the HM to insist that they were blameless.

  Demirci’s idea wasn’t so simple. But the Arrows would need more than just willpower and a bomb, they would need Candemir’s special forces to seize a Dirac-bound spacecraft and then the station itself. The commandos needed to carry out the raid would have to believe that their involvement would be covert, and that they would return from it alive. They would be told that their operation could be falsely attributed to Iran, an adversary of Turkey and a troublesome ally of the DA. Lastly, the commandos would be told that the purpose of the mission was to return with stolen antimatter for use as the HM’s fail-safe, a last-ditch defense in the event of a crisis with the DA.

  It would only work if the attack on Dirac would be a surprise, and most importantly if Ankara was forced to accept blame for it. To accomplish both of those things, they would need to destroy the station’s communications relay satellite. That part was where the Arrows’ smuggled antimatter came in. It could power a missile, disguised from all but Oz and a few others as a scientific rocket. The rocket would destroy the satellite, cutting off Dirac’s contact with Earth minutes before the commandos stormed the station. Turkey would be held responsible as the country that launched it. It would guarantee that the Democratic Alliance would not interpret Dirac Station’s subsequent destruction as an accident or coincidence. General Candemir could issue phony orders to a special forces unit to carry out the raid. He selected a team from the National Security Command, the MAKs. The MAKs would be unaware of the missile and sent to their deaths on Dirac, all while believing they were acting on government orders and expecting to come home alive.

  But an Arrows volunteer would need to go with them on a suicide mission. The MAKs would need a technical specialist with a good understanding of quantum physics, a man who could ostensibly enable the commandos to steal a capsule of antimatter, but would in fact rig the capsule’s containment shields to fail. A bomb alone was unlikely to make a dent in those shields, Oz was told by his sources familiar with Dirac, unless it was nuclear, and the Arrows did not have one of those. Nor could they divide their own stolen supply into two, with one to power the missile and one to bomb Dirac. They had no equipment even close to that capability, nor did anyone besides Dirac Station itself. It had to be one or the other, and the satellite attack was essential to planting the false flag. Aydin and Oz concluded that they were the only two Seventh Arrow scientists who would make acceptable volunteers.

  Aydin decided within seconds that he would have to be the one to go. He was twelve years younger, physically fit whereas Oz was not, and had the better understanding of theoretical science. Oz was the applied physicist. In any case, Oz’s position at the Izmir spaceport meant that the Arrows would need him in charge of converting a routine satellite launch into the missile to be used against Dirac’s relay satellite. He would also have the job of smuggling himself out of the country along with both their wives and Kerem and Safiye, in case the aftermath of the plan did not work out like they hoped.

  As for Azmi, Aydin couldn’t try to have him spirited out to another country, not without ruining the whole plan or jeopardizing the rest of the family. He couldn’t even risk giving his son a warning. Azmi would have to be on his own. Perhaps, Aydin allowed himself to think only once, it was just as well. He was more the Silvers’ son now than he was Aydin’s. Perhaps they would not hold Azmi responsible.

  Demirci presented his plan to the Seventh Arrow’s central committee in late September 2065. After a long morning of debate, they approved it unanimously. General Candemir selected a colonel named Cemil Terzi to be his dupe for the raid. He trusted Terzi to carry out any order, and knew that the next couple months Terzi would spend on preparations would be enthusiastic and thorough. The Arrows would send word to a sister network inside the United Caliphate, advising them to be ready for their own coup. The general also promised that he could covertly create an international incident a few days before Dirac Station was destroyed, something involving undersea cables which would start the tensions boiling between the HM and the DA.

  On December 19th, Aydin said good-bye to Dilara. She pleaded with him to find someone else after he hinted a vague idea of what was going to happen, but she surprised both him and herself by not pleading too long. He had made up his mind, he said, and for once in his life he would not just sit back, watching their world unfold and waiting for things to get better. He gave her twenty-five years as a good husband, and now he would give his life for his country’s future. Go and live with Safiye and Kerem now, he told her. Perhaps someday if they have a boy, he tried to joke, they will name him Aydin.


  Now, he was onboard the Kostroma en route to Dirac Station, with twelve MAK commandos ready and eager to follow Candemir’s orders, all expecting to return to Earth. They all had faith that God would see the mission through, but Demirci preferred to recall their AI simulations: eighty-eight percent chance that the mission will succeed, and ninety-five percent that Turkey retains plausible deniability. Even the Silvers would never have approved an operation so audacious as to risk war on a five percent chance of failure, no matter what the potential gain. But these MAK troops, cavalier men of duty that they were, didn’t know that.

  All that remained for Demirci was to follow through, to have a few minutes to work in the control room of Dirac’s powerful particle accelerator. And he needed to have the nerve to actually do it. There was also the matter of avoiding the elusive unknowns, the tiny wrinkles and loose ends that could undo the Plan. Terzi was right, he thought, about not worrying so much once the mission began. Perhaps there would be unforeseen little details, but they would be ones unlikely to stop this plan already in motion. We are like an arrow already loosed.

  Sergeant Kervan woke up, which gave Demirci his turn to lie on the floor and rest. As tired as he felt, his worrying mind wouldn’t let him sleep for another hour.

  CHAPTER 5

  RFSS Kostroma

  2015Z, 23 December 2065

  Time to go.

  During their mission planning, it was difficult for the MAKs to decide on the right time to seize control of the Kostroma. Nobody had ever tried to hijack a spacecraft in flight before, let alone tried to do it covertly. They decided to wait until after the ship passed its closest approach to the Sun and completed its one major course adjustment, after it spun around and was decelerating. They did not dare seize the ship before that happened, with none of them having the skills to supervise the maneuver. But they also worried about how soon any loose ends on Earth might catch up with them. There weren’t supposed to be any, but they deemed waiting until they reached the station itself to be a higher risk.

  Colonel Terzi looked up from his watch and nodded to his men. It was fifteen minutes since the Kostroma was scheduled to complete its hourly transmissions to Engels Spaceport and to Dirac Station. Captain Yazici removed his computer tablet from his jacket, unrolled the screen, and plugged a small data cable into the port on the cargo bay’s inner hatch access panel. The tablet downloaded information, and he quietly spoke a command into its microphone.

  Yazici nodded to the others. Thanks to Yuri Vedinin, the ship’s core computer did not detect the tablet’s access. There would be no indicators on the bridge that this cargo hold door was opening. Terzi pushed a button on the panel, and the hatch opened in front of them.

  The twelve MAK commandos sprinted out of the cargo hold, splitting into two groups to race through the narrow passageways towards the bridge. One group ran up the port side, one up starboard. Dr. Demirci ran behind the starboard group. They might be seen on the ship’s internal cameras if someone was even looking at those, but there would not be time to react. During their training for the mission, the MAKs never took longer than nine seconds to make it to the bridge.

  “Hands in the air!” yelled Sergeant Kervan in Russian as the two groups charged into the bridge from both passageway hatches, sidearms drawn in front of them. The four crewmembers inside spun around in astonishment. The navigator jumped up, yelling a curse of surprise, and collapsed after receiving a punch to the stomach by Yazici. Two others raised their hands up, their eyes wide. The co-pilot lunged towards her console, attempting to open a communications line to Earth. Kervan grabbed her wrist and smashed the red-haired woman’s nose with his weapon, making her shriek in pain.

  “Team two, split back!” Terzi yelled. Captain Avci and five other MAKs ran out of the bridge and down the passageways towards the crew quarters.

  “All of you, keep your hands up!” Kervan yelled at the Russians. “Stand up! Now! Over to that side of the bridge! Kneel down, face towards me! Clasp your hands on your heads! Do it!”

  The Russian crew did as instructed, shaking and breathing rapidly. From the port side passageway came the noise of more barked commands by Terzi’s men, then the sound of a woman screaming.

  The other MAKs returned with the two missing crew. Both were in light clothing and barefoot, the man wearing only boxers, and they squinted from the overhead lights.

  “You two, over there! Kneel down, hands on top of your heads! Quickly!”

  Colonel Terzi and his men surrounded the six Russians, weapons pointed at them. Demirci leaned against the rear bulkhead of the bridge and tried to calm his thumping heart. Terzi thought the doctor looked like he might faint but decided to ignore it.

  “Officers of the Kostroma,” Terzi began, “we are now in command of your vessel. I want to assure you that we have no intention of harming you as long as you cooperate with us. I will say that again. We will not harm you if you cooperate. I am sorry about your nose, ma’am,” he said to the navigator with blood running down her face, “but we cannot allow any communications at this time.”

  The six kneeling crewmembers were still breathing fast, trying to comprehend what this man was saying as their minds raced.

  “This ship will continue on its course and dock with Dirac Station on schedule. Once there, the six of you will join with the station’s personnel while we carry out our mission. You will remain on the station until our requirements for your release are met. Any disobedience or attempts at heroism will be followed by severe punishment. Nod your heads if you understand me.”

  All six nodded quickly, their fingers still interlocked on their heads.

  “Very good. Comply with my associates here, and before long you will all have quite a story to tell.”

  “Everyone up!” shouted Sergeant Kervan. “To the wardroom! Keep your hands on your heads, and no talking. Move!” The six captives marched out of the bridge, flanked fore and aft by six MAKs. They were made to sit around the wardroom dining table, hands untied but in front of them, while three MAKs remained inside on guard duty.

  “Are you all right, Doctor?” Terzi said to Demirci, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  Demirci nodded yes, trying to look unruffled but not sure if his mouth was too dry to speak.

  “You handled that well enough. The bit of shaking you have right now is just adrenaline wearing off. You will also do well when we take the station.”

  Terzi turned to Captain Yazici and Lieutenant Erkan, who were now sitting at the front control stations. “Communications?” he asked Erkan.

  “Confirmed... their last transmission was at twenty hundred Zulu,” the lieutenant replied, reading the data in front of him. “Twenty-one minutes ago. Communiqués sent to both Engels and Dirac. Automated ship’s status and telemetry data. Nothing else.”

  “Navigation?”

  “Still decelerating,” Yazici replied. “We’re currently four thousand, five hundred kilometers per second and dropping. Time to Dirac vicinity and the shift to maneuvering thrusters… sixteen hours, twenty-four minutes. Exactly on schedule, sir.”

  The colonel smiled. “Well done, men. Very well done.”

  USS Abraham Lincoln

  0530Z, 24 December 2065

  Jaana Pierce towel-dried her thick blonde hair after her morning shower. Morning quarters weren’t even for another two hours, but she was long-practiced at starting her days before everyone else. It wasn’t hard for her to draw a line between habits like that and the rank she now held. The stars of the admiralty were now close enough to taste. Still, waking up alone on Christmas Eve was a desolate feeling no matter her rank, and besides, there was another reason to get up so early.

  She opened a comms line to call home. The ship kept itself on Zulu time even though it was spending its days in a skeletal dock thirty-six thousand kilometers above the east African equator, but it would be eleven-thirty p.m. in Omaha. That was home, at least while Jaana was assigned to Lincoln. Knowing Jack and Ellie, they would bo
th still be awake. The call tone ended with Ellie’s cheery face appearing on the screen.

  “Hi Mom! How’s life on the ship today?” Next to Ellie was the family greyhound, wagging his tail. Behind them, Pierce saw that Ellie was working on a new sculpture. Jaana couldn’t tell if it was molded or printed. Two engineers for parents, and she’s determined to apply to an art college next year, Pierce thought, amused. Well, she is talented at it.

  “Not bad, just another day in the dock. Arleigh sure seems excited.”

  “Yup. We got an inch of snow today, and he spent the afternoon running around like a maniac. That and he’s happy to see your face, of course.”

  Jaana smiled. “Nice to know he hasn’t forgotten me after two months. Where’s your dad?”

  “He’s in the shower, I think. Mom, he’s crazy. He took me driving tonight because he wanted me to practice driving both in snow and at night before I get my license next month! Like I’m ever going to drive manually in those conditions.”

  Jaana smiled. “I’ll talk with him. I’ll be sure to thank him for making you so prepared.”

  “Gahhh, you’re both crazy! Oh hey, what’s this thing on the news about ‘def-con four’? Anything you can tell me about?”

  “Not really, but it doesn’t mean too much for us. We’re still in the dock. We just have to be ready to leave on short notice.”

  “Should Dad and I be worried down here?”

  “Not a bit, sweetheart. That’s why I’m up here,” Pierce replied, giving Ellie a grin. “So, what’s happening with hockey? Any changes before your team went on holiday break?”

  “No, I’m still left winger on the second line. The coach doesn’t want to disrupt things. But guess what? We did speed drills, and on the five-ring run I was only a second off your record!”