The Kasari Nexus (Rho Agenda Assimilation Book 1)

by Richard Phillips

  Twenty-five nautical miles off southern Mexico’s Pacific coast, the Jù Làng-3 submarine-launched ballistic missile broke the ocean surface, blazing a fiery trail into the night sky as it headed south toward its distant target. As it climbed above the atmosphere, its astro-inertial guidance system locked onto two stars, their offsets from expected locations providing corrections to the inertial navigation errors incurred due to its moving launch platform.

  Far below the waves, the Jin-class submarine from the EAPA entered a steep dive and turned west, headed toward the deep waters of the Pacific Ocean.

  Mission accomplished.

  Daniil felt his anticipation rise as the two choppers set down on an empty soccer field a half mile from Jack Gregory’s last reported location. Including Daniil and Galina, thirty-eight highly trained killers exited the birds, all wearing the uniforms of the Peruvian Special Forces. The fact that few of them spoke Spanish and none of them spoke any of the indigenous languages made no difference. Nobody would be stupid enough to get in their way.

  Within thirty seconds, all of the commandos had dismounted and cleared the rotor wash, letting the Mi-17s wing their way back to the staging area south of Lima. Wasting no time, the Spetsnaz moved from the soccer field and into the surrounding streets, maintaining a tactical formation that caused the civilians who saw them to disappear into the buildings on either side.

  Fifteen minutes later, the Spetsnaz reached the street where the Smythes had been seen and subsequently surrounded by the Peruvian National Police. But now there was no sign of a police presence.

  Daniil issued a mental curse. What the hell?

  The police presence couldn’t have evaporated that quickly. Certainly the heavy bombing just outside Lima would have pulled some of them away. But all? That would have taken an official order sending them someplace else. Daniil realized Heather Smythe had penetrated the Peruvian police computer, phone, and radio networks and issued the alert that had redirected them.

  Damn it! This hacker shit is getting old.

  Major Kamkin reported that a sweep of the building where the Smythes had been pinned down had turned up nothing.

  Kneeling beside Galina, Daniil switched to Kamkin’s private channel and spoke into his radio.

  “Major, have your men sweep all the surrounding buildings. Someone will have seen them leave. I want to know which direction they went.”

  “I’ve already given that order. Don’t bother me with obvious shit.”

  “Fail to update me again and I’ll do a hell of a lot more than bother you.”

  Mark moved down the dimly lit alley with a purpose, Janet moving along the opposite side of the alley, her SCAR-H at the ready. When he reached a crumbling wall that provided both cover and a good field of view along the street that Jack and Heather would cross, he waited until Janet also found an overwatch position from which she could provide covering fire.

  When that happened, he sent a mental message to Heather through his SRT headset and waited. Heather and Jack moved quickly, crossing the dimly lit street and setting up their own overwatch position.

  Suddenly Robby’s stress-filled voice spoke through the shared subspace link.

  “Guys, Eos just intercepted an urgent message from Cheyenne Mountain to the president of the United States. They’re tracking a submarine-launched ballistic missile that surfaced off the southwestern coast of Mexico.”

  The missile track appeared in Mark’s mind and he paused to study it, breathing a sigh of relief. The missile would pass five hundred miles off the Peruvian coast on its way to its projected target in Santiago, Chile. That sucked for the people who lived there, but Mark, Heather, and company didn’t have to deal with the ensuing damage.

  “It’s headed for Santiago, Chile,” Heather confirmed.

  “There’s something else,” Robby said. “Two Mi-17 helicopters dumped three dozen Peruvian Special Forces on your doorstep several minutes ago. Right now they’re a little less than a mile north of you, but moving in your direction.”

  “You sure they’re Peruvian?” Mark asked.

  “Just by their uniforms and the markings on the helicopters.”

  “Keep tabs on them and be ready to move out when we get to your location.”

  “Okay, but there aren’t a lot of cameras in that neighborhood.”

  Mark felt Heather’s mind go from strategy to alarm in an instant.

  “Oh no!” Her voice screamed in his mind.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “The missile isn’t—”

  Suddenly, the western sky flared brighter than the sun, momentarily blinding Mark even though he hadn’t been looking in that direction. A number of loud bangs were accompanied by the crackle of electrical arcs as nearby transformers exploded. The ongoing sound of the car alarms that had been set off by the previous bomb blasts came to an immediate stop. As Mark’s vision returned, he looked around.

  All the lights in the neighborhood were out. Fires had broken out in a number of the nearby buildings. From his hillside vantage point, he could see that this was true across the entire city of ten million. There was no doubt about what he’d just witnessed. A nuclear blast at the edge of space had doused Lima with a massive electromagnetic pulse.

  “Heather, can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  “Robby?”

  Nothing.

  Shit! Along with every other electronic component in Lima, the EMP had fried their SRT headsets.

  Daniil liked what he was seeing. Major Kamkin was one annoying son of a bitch, but when it came to running his Spetsnaz unit, the man was a machine. As soon as witnesses had identified the northerly direction the four members of The Ripper’s group had taken, he’d sent two five-man teams sprinting out to either side, aiming to get them around and in front of their targets. Even if those teams happened to run into The Ripper and company, the firefight would pinpoint their location. After that, an all-out assault by the bulk of the Spetsnaz commandos would finish them off.

  Daniil intended to be at the heart of that action. He didn’t care about the Smythes. The Ripper was his.

  When the nuclear detonation turned night into brightest day, it dazzled him so that he tripped over a broken curb and sprawled face-first onto the pavement as transformers exploded in the distance. Cursing, Daniil climbed back to his knees, feeling around for his dropped AK-105. Only then did his tongue notice the hole where his two front teeth had been.

  He spat them out, along with a mouthful of blood, grabbed the assault rifle, and climbed back to his feet, already feeling the nanites closing the minor wound. They wouldn’t regrow teeth, but he wasn’t worried about cosmetics.

  To his front, Major Kamkin blew on a whistle, sending three sharp notes echoing through streets that were rapidly filling with startled people stumbling from dark, burning dwellings. Immediately his commandos responded, tightening their formation.

  Gunfire opened up all along the street as Kamkin’s commandos sent the crowd scurrying away in a panicked stampede that trampled the weak, clumsy, and infirm beneath their running feet.

  Another sharp blast from Major Kamkin’s whistle started the unit moving again. The flames became an inferno on the slopes above them and to their east. The sound of distant screams, breaking glass, and gunfire echoed through the night, but without any accompaniment from the sirens of police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks, the night felt surreal. No doubt about it, without working pumps or power to spray water, the gathering conflagration would make the great San Francisco fire seem like a Girl Scout cookout.

  Daniil spat more blood onto the pavement and picked up his pace. Once again his boss had surprised him, but this time Daniil approved of his actions. There would be no more super hacking tonight. Prokorov had just leveled the playing field.

  The sensation of having the Internet chopped out from under him was so disorienting that it left Robby gasping for breath.

  “Eos. What happened?”

  “An
electromagnetic pulse of approximately fifty thousand volts per meter has just destroyed the SRT headset and all unshielded electronics within a ninety-three-thousand-square-mile area around Lima.”

  Stunned as he was by this information, he understood. He believed it inevitable that someone would recognize the power he and Eos had over the Internet and seek to neutralize it. Robby and Eos were now blind and deaf.

  He was frightened. The noises that arose from the preternaturally dark neighborhood outside this safe house were even more disconcerting. The pops and bangs from the exploding transformers had gradually been replaced by the hoots and howls of a gathering mob. He focused his neurally enhanced hearing on those sounds, refining them into words that formed partial sentences.

  He wasn’t surprised. Although he had never experienced this phenomenon, his mom and dad had talked about it often enough. During power outages or natural disasters, while law enforcement was overwhelmed, the gangs came out to play.

  The sounds that followed were those of breaking storefront windows from the local market, accompanied by celebratory yells and gunfire.

  “It would be wise to leave this area,” Eos said.

  Robby shook his head. “No. Mom and Dad said to stay put. They will come for me.”

  Moving to his go bag, Robby extracted the AR-15 rifle and one of ten magazines of 5.56mm ammunition, slapped it home, and chambered a round. Then, hefting the rifle and his go bag, Robby moved out of the room he’d been using as an office.

  Despite the darkness that pervaded the house, he could still see well enough to navigate his way up the stairs to the second floor. He’d locked all the doors and windows, which were blast resistant since this was a drug cartel safe house. Moving into the hallway, he pulled on the rope that lowered the attic stairs. He climbed up, then pulled the stairs up after him.

  This attic was special, featuring two crawl spaces converted to sniper hides where windows had once been. One faced the front of the house while the other faced the back. Unfortunately there was only one of him. The biggest threat would come from the front . . . at least initially. Hopefully, before that became a very big problem, his mom and dad would get here.

  Robby dragged his kit bag into one and unzipped it, dropping the fried SRT headset inside and removing the Altreian headset that would connect him to the Second Ship. Pulling the band down so that the twin buds at the ends settled over his temples, he allowed himself a few seconds to enjoy the warm glow it delivered. Then, as he assumed a prone firing position with the barrel of his AR-15 poking out through the armored slot, a comment from Eos drove that warm feeling away.

  “I hope Jack comes for us, Robby. I hope he comes soon.”

  Tucked into a doorway on the western side of the alley, Jack had been sheltered from the brightest part of the flash, yet it dazzled him. Movement across the alley attracted his gaze and he saw Heather sprinting toward him, pulling her go bag off her back and dropping it beside him as she slid to a stop.

  “EMP just fried our SRT headsets. Give me a second while I switch to the Altreian band.”

  “I didn’t think you could use those to hack other systems.”

  “We can’t,” she said, removing the SRT headset and digging through her go bag. “When the Second Ship and Rho Ship shot each other down, the Second Ship’s ability to do that was destroyed. But the band will let Mark and me communicate with Robby and Eos.”

  “If he puts it on.”

  “He will.”

  “Won’t the EMP have fried everybody’s nanites?” Jack asked.

  “No. EMP generates current in circuits. The nanites are too tiny and they’re not connected to each other.”

  Jack turned his attention back to his surroundings. From this elevated slum, he could look out over Lima. It had gone dark, but not completely. A series of large explosions from the vicinity of the Jorge Chávez International Airport told its own sad story. All of the aircraft that had just taken off or were lined up for landing were falling from the skies en masse, adding to the conflagration on the ground.

  All over the sprawling city, burning transformers and other blasted electronics had started small fires that were rapidly turning into big ones. And the glow of those flames reflected off the low clouds that hung over the city, bathing the streets in an ominous orange glow.

  A new sound rose in volume. Screams mixed with the exultant yells of gangbangers, as gunfire accompanied the sound of breaking glass. They were less than five minutes into this calamity and already the looting had begun. Since almost every vehicle for hundreds of miles would be dead, there was no transportation for the police or firemen. For the next several weeks, nobody would be coming to help these desperate people. And in that madness, they would have no choice but to join in on the looting.

  As a fresh rush of adrenaline flooded his bloodstream, Jack’s vision misted a familiar red. Some of those sounds were coming from the neighborhood where Robby’s safe house lay.

  Beside him, Heather slid the alien headset over her temples.

  “Robby’s online. So is Mark.”

  “Okay. Let Mark know we’re out of time. No more bounding overwatch. Everyone just stay on me.”

  Heather paused to issue the mental commands. When she nodded, Jack sprinted forward, letting that old sense of danger pull him into the fire-lit chaos of the Lima night.

  Robby had barely tugged on his Altreian headset when he felt Mark and Heather enter his mind. But as excited as he was to no longer be alone, his elation was short lived. In the semidark streets outside, the mob was getting ugly.

  Two houses down, on the right side of the street, a flurry of excited activity broke out as someone smashed out the front windows, allowing several people inside. Moments later, shots rang out as a group of bystanders joined the looting.

  Heather’s voice entered his mind. “Stay out of this, Robby. Don’t draw attention to yourself. We’re coming.”

  He saw new movement. The mob broke into adjacent buildings, working their way gradually toward the fortified safe house where he was hiding. With rising panic, he realized this house was perhaps the most attractive target on the block.

  As if his thought had been psychically channeled to them, members of the gang flowed toward the safe house, carrying tools and implements looted from homes farther up the street. Robby could hear clanks and bangs as they hammered and pried at the armored doors and windows, even at the stone walls themselves.

  If they got inside before his mom and dad got here . . . well, he didn’t dare think about it.

  Heather and Mark could sense everything he was going through and they were coming at a dead run. He heard a loud crash from one of the side windows. Robby doubted that they’d make it in time to save him.

  A great wave of sadness sent tears streaming down his cheeks and momentarily immobilized him. Then his thoughts turned to his mom and dad. If he died, they’d be devastated. But if he just sat helplessly crying without using any of their training, they’d be disappointed in him. That was too horrible a thought to imagine.

  Without bothering to wipe his wet face, Robby grabbed his AR-15 and some spare magazines and crawled out of the tight space. If this was the end, he’d at least try to make his mom and dad proud.

  CHAPTER 26

  Jennifer’s journey back to the northern front with Dgarra had been relatively uneventful. Thankfully, she’d been outfitted in the black and purple combat uniform of the general’s warriors as opposed to the skintight dress uniform that she’d worn for the victory parade. But she still wore the purple braid on her left shoulder that marked her as Dgarra’s aide-de-camp.

  With the new position came new responsibilities and a whole lot of animosity from captains on the general’s staff who had envisioned themselves being selected for this post, not some alien female lacking combat experience. She didn’t need her abilities to read that in their eyes, though they were careful to hide that look from Dgarra.

  With the super-monsoon flow from the northeast
, they still had a third of the year to prepare for the reversal that would break the harsh Koranthian winter. Shortly after that reversal would come a renewed Eadric and Kasari attack on the Koranthian Empire. In the meantime, Dgarra was determined to implement as many useful pieces of the alien technology as possible.

  He’d returned her SRT headset but, so far, she’d had no luck contacting Raul. She still planned to keep trying. Though disappointed by the failure of the headset, Dgarra was very pleased with the detailed diagrams Jennifer created to illustrate the construction of a stasis field generator, a matter disrupter, and the Kasari disrupter weapons. The subspace field generator held little interest for Dgarra, since its applications for warfare on the surface of Scion were far from obvious.

  The real problem Jennifer faced was the limited time remaining to manufacture and test any of those devices before the change of season.

  Up until now, she’d had no idea how little of the Koranthian war machine she’d seen as a slave. She’d witnessed the Koranthian warriors in battle and had seen part of their complex network of underground railways and supply network, but that was just a fraction of the whole. So Dgarra took her on a tour of the facilities within his sector of control, giving her an overview of the Koranthian version of a military-industrial complex and the war preparations that went along with it.

  Although the manufacturing facilities were impressive, Jennifer was astounded by the massive fusion reactors distributed in large artificial caverns throughout the empire. Admittedly, she toured only a few of them, but they all seemed to be based upon the same design. Together they formed a redundant and heavily protected power infrastructure that made Jennifer doubt that the Koranthians would even bother to pursue the more dangerous Kasari matter disrupter technology. These people appeared to have no interest in wasting resources on space technology. The Koranthians were perfectly content to leave the sky and the heavens beyond to the Eadric and their Kasari masters. The underworld and the rugged mountains above it were the domains the Koranthians were determined to protect.