by A J Jameson
And Hunter, Alpha squad’s computer technician and their eyes in the sky, was recruited from a junior antivirus software development company that lacked the funding needed to make any real difference in the field. Their product did the job, but more at a subsidiary level; a security net, implemented to reinforce the primary antivirus software. He just needed somebody to give him a chance. And Hunter never forgot who gave it to him.
“First up—” Law fished out the handkerchief from his breast pocket and covered his mouth. The fibers of his lungs shook and split as he convulsively coughed. A blot of blood stained the cloth. I hope your time table is right, Victoria. I don’t know how much more of this I can withstand. “Localized response and evidence.”
“There was a camera on Imogen’s street that overlooked her house,” Hunter said. “I used it to live-stream the raid. All recorded footage has been redacted from needless agencies.”
“Witnesses?”
“I’ve been intercepting all phone calls relating to the incident.”
“And now?” Law asked.
“Yolanda’s filling in.”
“Good.” Law took a sip of water to ease his aching throat. Somebody behind him yawned and the effect dominoed through the room. Law granted access to this meeting for those directly involved in the incident—two members of Delta and all abled Alpha—and to those preparing a response—Bravo. “Walk us through breach and entry.”
Hunter displayed the entry team’s camera feeds on three separate monitors, and Ray described the obstacles one at a time as they popped up: deenergized power feeding the house; concealed air horns; cluttered bear traps; and battery-operated, photo-eye initiated home-explosive devices. The entry team fell like a meteor, its rock-hard core chipping away little by little until its threat level equaled that of a pebble.
“We didn’t even make it past the first room,” Ray said with a pang of humiliation.
“By the look of those explosives, that’s probably a good thing,” Marek said.
“No eyes on the target?” Law asked.
“Negative,” Hunter said. “Although I didn’t have a visual on any potential back exits. The good news…” he opened a fourth video feed. The view was from a street camera overlooking Imogen’s house. The first floor had been hollowed out by brittling flames, and the second story was poised to fall through at any moment. Black smoke snaked its way into the open sky as a firetruck fed a steady stream of water into the charred aftermath of Imogen Ayton’s row home. “She won’t be returning,” Hunter said.
“So where does that leave us?” Law asked.
“Axel’s,” Marek said. “We’ll send Ivan, dressed as Axel, and he’ll eliminate Imogen in close proximity.”
Law examined Ivan. The newest member of Bravo squad had recovered from being punched in the face by Ray earlier, his disguise fully restored. Remarkable, Law thought, the things they can do these days. Change eye color with contacts. Skin complexion with a tube of dye that lasted weeks, if not months. And now whole faces.
“We could demolish Axel’s house,” Eduardo said, his attention still on the monitor. “I can set charges at all critical infrastructure points. Anyone inside will be buried alive.”
“No,” Law said. “We don’t get messy unless we have to.”
“What about my drone?” Ivan said, his altered voice speeding Marek’s blood pressure. “I could fly in a stick of C4. No mess.”
“Fly it into his house? No, it doesn’t fit Axel’s character. Imogen or this Little Eye person will know something’s off.”
“Let’s back up,” Law said. “Who are these people, exactly, and what roles do they play in Axel’s life?”
“Imogen’s the romantic extension,” Marek said, but then realized it wasn’t his place. “You know what, this one’s on you, Ivan. You’re the one going in.”
Law nodded, proud of his prodigy.
“Right,” Ivan said. “Imogen is the romantic extension, and Little Eye is someone Axel depends on. A guardian of sorts.”
“Sounds like speculation,” Law said. “What did the background checks say?”
“Uh, they were…inconclusive.”
“All electrical components—phones, computers, home-security devices—are under the protection of a heavily fortified, anti-intrusion software,” Yolanda said. “We can’t access cameras outside the house, and the camera Zyta planted inside was found and disposed of. We do have access to his phone, brought in by Alpha squad, but all contacts and web history lead to a dead end. Parents, primary care physician, and service providers are the only saved numbers.”
“There’s no chance the contacts could be acting as a guise?”
“Negative. Everything checked out. As well as emails, social media…”
“Bank statements?”
“Withdraws to cover monthly bills and food,” Yolanda said. “Nothing else. Not even an article of clothing over the past three years.”
“What does this guy do for fun?” Eduardo asked.
Nobody had an answer to that, so Law provided one. “He’s a hacker. The fun is in the challenge.”
“Hackers need software,” Marek said. “No purchases of software?”
“Negative,” Yolanda said, but she opened the files containing Axel’s bank statements to double check.
“What about computer hardware? Certain technologies become obsolete within months of their release.”
“I don’t see anything here.” Yolanda lifted her baseball cap to scratch an itch. “His parents, investing in their child’s future?”
“That would mean they’re involved in his life and could be wondering where he is at this very moment.”
The computer monitor displaying Imogen’s burning house flickered to a black screen. Then a prompt materialized, requesting the acceptance of an incoming cam-call from username ‘Little Eye.’
“Everyone but Marek and Yolanda evacuate,” Law ordered.
“And Ivan, where’s Ivan?” Marek said.
“Here.”
“Sit at a desk. You’re working. You’ve passed the interview, got the job, and been busy. If she asks why you haven’t answered her calls, tell her you work in a basement and have poor cell reception.”
“No, too unbelievable,” Law said, slowly inching his way to the door. “Your work revolves around sensitive data, no phones on the floor. And don’t mention the basement. I don’t want this person having the slightest inclination of where we are.”
Marek followed Law’s lead and stepped out of the monitor’s camera range. “Patch it through Yolanda, but don’t include Ivan’s feed. Not yet. And pixelate your face.”
Ivan cleared his throat. “My name is Axel, Marek.” He emphasized the last word with a rise in tone, testing Marek’s name as if still learning it. Marek didn’t bother responding.
Yolanda connected the call and the image of Axel’s living room came into focus. To the left was a table with a few tools strewn across it. On the right stood a portable whiteboard, the writing too blurry to read. And center, a computer workstation with three screens and an empty chair.
“Good afternoon, Axel,” a woman’s voice streamed through the command center’s speakers. “Your mother has been worried.”
Ivan, sitting to Yolanda’s left, leaned back in his chair and mouthed, “my mother?” to Marek. Great plan of action, Marek thought. He entered the webcam’s field of view, his face pixelating on the monitor. “This is a secure line and the connection will be terminated if the business at hand is not—”
“You know very well that the business at hand is of the upmost importance,” Little Eye said.
“Nice to make your acquaintance, Little Eye,” Marek said. Then, keeping his gaze forward, he keyed the computer’s mute button and spoke quickly to Yolanda. “Scour Axel’s phone for the voice of Mother and compare it to Little Eye’s.”
Yolanda retrieved a set of headphones from the desk drawer and began the process.
“Show me Axel,” Little Eye sai
d, “and I won’t turn you in to the authorities.”
“Ma’am, I’m not sure you’ve contacted the correct address. You see, our institution is one of the many branches of law enforcement. Please hold.” Marek keyed the mute button.
“She’s not his mother,” Yolanda said.
Marek continued. “Sorry, but I was under the impression that you were an immediate relative to Axel by blood, but it—”
“I’m a close friend of the family,” Little Eye said. “A concerned friend.”
Good, she’s willing to give ground, Marek thought, and looked to Law for approval. He motioned Marek on with a simple nod. Audio input disengaged, Marek gave Yolanda the go-ahead for phase two. “Show her Ivan but be prepared to cut the connection if any suspicions arise.”
Yolanda gave a curt nod, her monitor-cam shutting off. Little Eye exhaled relief at the sight of Ivan. “Axel, are you okay? I’ve been so worried.”
“Yes, yes Little Eye.” Ivan tapped the keys of his keyboard. “I’m fine, just been working.”
“You’re not hurt?” Little Eye asked, her voice strained.
Yolanda leaned into Marek’s ear. “The source of the call is coming from Axel’s apartment. My best guess is that she’s in another room, broadcasting from a wireless microphone. Maybe even a cellphone.” Marek nodded.
“Sorry I didn’t reach out to you,” Ivan said. “The files they have me working on are top secret. Some of them I can’t even access myself, I need someone in the room with me.”
“Oh my,” Little Eye said. “That sounds comprehensive.”
“Yes, very,” Ivan confirmed. “But the outcome of the work is worth the labor.”
A short silence. But too long for somebody supposedly worried to the moon and back for a close friend, Marek thought. “Little Eye?” he prompted.
“Yes…I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“You can call me Jim,” Marek said.
Another silence. Yolanda looked over her shoulder at Law and mouthed, “Cut the connection?”
But Marek pushed on. “Axel has spoken of you often, always in the highest regard, and, if his demonstration of skillset is any indication of the things you’re capable of, I’m very interested in meeting you.”
“How thoughtful,” Little Eye said.
“Well, what do you say? Would you like to come in for an interview?”
“I would love to, Jim, but I cannot physically come in for an interview, since my inner networking is strictly limited to CPUs and circuit boards.”
“She’s AI,” Yolanda muttered.
“Is everything okay, Axel?” Little Eye asked.
Marek caught of glimpse of Ivan’s reaction—eyes wide and mouth agape—before he regained composure. “I’m fine, I was just caught off guard by a file I’m reading. Some of the things people do in this world…unspeakable.”
“Yes, unspeakable, and classified,” Marek said. “Your associate has a big heart.”
“Yes, he does,” Little Eye said.
“I hope this call has put your mind at ease, but we really do need to get back to work. It was a pleasure meeting you, Little Eye.”
“You too. And the job offer?”
“We’ll get back to you about it,” Marek said, the first signs of a smile curling his lips. An AI. CPUs and circuit boards. Could it get any easier?
“Thank you,” Little Eye said. “Oh, and Axel, Imogen asked me to pass this message onto you: I’m praying for you to land the job and I miss and love you.”
“Tell her I miss and love her, too.”
“And your parents, for the next time they call?”
“I love them and can’t wait to tell them all about the job. Well, a little about the job.” He jokingly laughed and was the only one to do so.
“Bye, Axel. I love you.”
“Bye. Love you, too.”
Yolanda disconnected the call and leaned back, smiling up at Marek. “Little Eye the AI.”
Ivan leaned back in his chair, too, pleased with his performance. “That went pretty well, huh?”
“All but one thing. Axel told me he barely knew Imogen,” Marek said.
“Of course he did, he was trying to protect her. If he barely knows her, he barely knows anything about her. Where she lives, shops, etc.”
Marek wanted to protest—he wasn’t lying, he can’t without his MI thing—but Law clasped his shoulder and congratulated him on the superb performance. The only thing Marek could do was smile and agree. “Yeah, one less person to worry about.”
Zyta steadied the laptop in Axel’s lap as he dragged one sluggish hand over the keyboard. The blood pumping through her veins had done a good job at heightening her senses at the start of this charade—an edge that would keep her vigilant should anyone wander into the auxiliary room and check on their MIA medic—but now the adrenaline was oversaturating her mind. She could feel the pulse at her temples, taste the sweat above her lip, and smell the odor of last night’s alcohol as it passed through her pores. And the hacker, so good that he outwitted Yolanda on multiple occasions, moved slower than molasses. Not his fault, Zyta reminded herself.
“Do you need another tablet?” she asked.
He shook his head and mumbled something. Zyta thought she witnessed a jolt in his typing hand, increasing his words-per-minute from 15 to 20. Yeah, he needs a tablet. Zyta fished out another dose of ammonia and cracked it under Axel’s nose.
The effect was immediate; from night to day, dead to alive. His typing hand whipped back and forth over the keyboard, assuming different shapes to reach each key in the most efficient way possible. He’d continue to work this way for about three or four minutes before it all came crashing down again.
“I can’t break in,” he said after a few more failed entries. “The archives aren’t linked to the main server. I have to be inside the room to access them.”
“I told you, the room uses a print reader,” Zyta said. “There has to be a way. A loop hole somewhere.”
“Why don’t you just ask him? Law, you call him?”
“I can’t, why do you think…” Zyta trailed off, remembering that he had sedatives circulating his nervous system. It was a wonder he could think at all. Maybe if I flush the drugs from his system and try again…but then he’d be awake, and he’s not allowed to be awake…
“Have you seen Zyta?” she heard a voice say from down the hallway. It sounded like Marek. But who was he talking to? Victoria? Eduardo? It didn’t matter, anyone who was still at the medical center knew she was here, “checking on the prisoner.”
“Thanks for your help,” Zyta said, and injected the syringe attached to Axel’s IV. He slumped back on the makeshift bed.
“Wait,” Axel mumbled, the sedative slowly overwhelming his motor functions. His head bobbled up and down as he fought to keep it afloat. “I need to call…to call,” and then he was out cold. Zyta zip-tied his free hand back to the lock-out hole of the disconnect.
“Zyta, there you are,” Marek said, entering the auxiliary room. “We made contact with Little Eye. She’s an AI program, probably written by…” Marek spotted the laptop resting on Axel’s lap. “Why does he have a laptop?”
“He doesn’t,” Zyta said. “I was logging his condition and had to record a dosage of morphine.”
Marek’s suspicion melted away. He let the door close quietly behind him. “How did the surgery go? I mean, how are you handling it?”
“Fine. Sadie and Mason are both stabilized, as is Kyle. I mean, they’re all out of commission, but that’s the job, right?”
Marek squeezed Zyta’s shoulder, then pulled her close for a hug before the tears welling in her eyes could brim over. “They owe their lives to you, Zyta. Most of us do, in one way or another, and we’re thankful.”
Zyta lowered her head and sponged her tears with Marek’s shirt. Where was this coming from? Just twelve hours ago she was walking on cloud nine. Or more accurately, I had clouded my pain with the façade of a bubble-wrapped
life that can never be. And with the realization came more tears. Marek rubbed her back. “Yesterday,” Zyta said, her voice muffled.
She lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. Marek gave her space. “Yesterday,” she said again. “Kyle came to and we ran some tests…for motor function.” She took a deep breath. “He’s paralyzed, Marek. From the neck down.”
Marek blinked away the moister in his own eyes. “Jesus. He’ll be released.”
Zyta sniffled. “And then what?”
“He’ll receive compensation for the rest of his life. Him and his family.” Marek ran a hand through his hair. “We haven’t had a release in…what, over ten years?”
Again, her brother astonished her with his Law-like reaction. “Compensation? Haven’t had a release in over ten years? What about the fact that he can’t ever get out of a fucking bed by himself again? What about the fact that he can’t ever feed himself again? Or go to the bathroom?”
Marek stood speechless. When did he change you, brother? “I don’t…” he stammered. “There’s nothing we can do about it, except get payback.”
Zyta rubbed her eyes, her throbbing temples.
“We have the address, and we’ve learned that Little Eye is an artificial intelligence. That leaves only Imogen. And then this whole thing will be behind us.”
“And then there will be a new thing. A new Little Eye, a new life-destroying injury. And what about him?” Zyta said, gesturing at Axel.
“No future mission will ever get out of control like this again. I promise. And him…he’s too much of a liability. He’s talented, for sure, but he’s not one of us.”
“Because Law didn’t find him when he was a child like he did us? And please, don’t make promises you have no control over.”
“You shouldn’t go to Umar’s anymore,” Marek said.
Fury exploded from Zyta’s core to reach every extremity of her being. “Don’t you dare bring him into this.”
“I didn’t, you did. Law has cameras installed in the homes of every potential spouse. He knows where you went last night.”
That same fury that came in a flash left in a single, unbelievably long exhale. So long that Zyta felt ten pounds lighter as her lungs collapsed on themselves. “He watched…us…”