by TR Cameron
So it was Cia who helped him steal a van with dark-tinted windows from one of the car companies that serviced the airport, and she was now in the driver’s seat to his left. They’d snagged a uniform for her as well, and he thought she looked very snappy in the navy blue trousers and button-down shirt. The chauffeur’s hat was the perfect finishing touch, and one he planned never to let her forget.
Juno was on the bench seat behind them, with a backpack holding the essential supplies for the mission at her feet. With luck, the company wouldn’t notice the vehicle’s loss until much later in the day. The rest of the team had signaled as they arrived at their assignments, and while Athena could have provided him with imagery of each, he’d opted to stay focused on his immediate surroundings. Reports came in over the comms. First the watchers getting into place, then Kimmel attempting his hack against the two agents, each of whom lived in the same section of the town. The computer expert muttered, “Not great operational security, that decision.”
Jax observed, “No, but people are creatures of habit, even spies. They would want to be reasonably close to their workplace, especially since they might be called to it in a hurry, given their career choice.” The two had settled on opposite sides of the disguised Intelligence Division headquarters, which was a better alternative than if they’d lived together or in the same neighborhood. But the criticism wasn’t wrong, and Jax hoped that he’d choose more wisely if presented with such a requirement.
After several moments, Kimmel made a disgusted sound. “I can’t get linked up. They’ve got the near field connection protected, too.”
Jax sighed. “Well, that’s why we have backup plans, right? Stay in place, in case we need you to assist the others.”
Athena warned, “Another call to the hospital. He says he’s landed.” While she wasn’t able to crack Quentin’s encoded comm, getting into the hospital’s system had been the work of only a moment. She and Juno had checked on the Fosters’ records that morning, and both were convinced the pair would be fine in a day or two. Juno said, “We should send them an anonymous gift afterward to make up for their trouble.”
Before Jax could reply, Athena said, “On it,” over the comm.
He shook his head. Adding the AI to the communication channel felt strange but somehow comforting as if she wasn’t only a part of him anymore. He pushed the thought away. The whole thing was weird and would continue to be, and he had to deal with it. He hoped the AI felt some discomfort on her end as well but knew she’d never admit to it even if she did.
Athena reported, “He called for a car. I intercepted it at one of the other companies’ phones and told them that this is the vehicle that will respond.”
Cia announced, “Rolling.” The watchers had reported that their targets were either staying in or moving on foot, which suggested they’d seen the surveillance and they’d chosen not to betray the presence of Arlox’s assistant. The van pulled up to the curb as their target walked out, accompanied by a burly looking man in a suit.
“Dammit,” Jax muttered and turned away from the window since he wasn’t exactly popular with the Intelligence Division. Cia ran around and slid open the van’s side door, then grabbed at the travel bag Quentin carried. The escort snarled, “We’ll keep that,” and leaned into the vehicle to check for danger. All he saw was the back of Jax’s head and Dr. Cray’s smiling face. He seemed satisfied as he clambered in and sat in the row behind Juno. Their target followed and sat beside his protector.
Cia closed the side door, climbed in the front, and asked, “Hospital, correct?”
The escort grunted, “Yeah.”
“Coming right up.” Before she got the vehicle moving, she succumbed to a series of coughs.
“Here. I have a cough drop. Let me get it for you,” Juno said brightly. Her hands dug into her bag and came out holding two small aerosol cans. She twisted and sprayed the contents of the first at the guard, and the other at Quentin. The bigger man struggled for an instant, then slumped as the knockout drug did its work. The one that had hit Arlox’s assistant had a different effect, and his face turned languid as he breathed, “Whoa.” Cia pulled away and headed for the hospital as slowly as she could reasonably drive.
Juno withdrew a syringe with a superfine needle and injected both the guard and Quentin in the side of their hand, where the rough skin wouldn’t easily show the puncture, even to a trained observer. Neither reacted, and she nodded in satisfaction. “Memory blocker should be doing its work now. They’ll have no recollection of the trip or the minutes leading up to getting into the van. Plus, Quentin’s hallucinogens seem to be working pretty well.” The thin man laughed, and she shook her head with a smile. “It’s all you, Jax.”
He climbed into the row right in front of Quentin to switch places with Juno and knelt on the seat to face him. There was no such thing as a truth serum, per se, but the hallucinogens they’d dosed their target with would put him in a highly suggestible state, enough that he should accept most of what they told him without questioning it. The memory blocker would only last reliably for about fifteen minutes, and Cia was doing her best to ensure that at the end of that time, they’d be outside the hospital. Jax growled in a deep, authoritative tone, “Quentin. Pay attention. Did you hear me? If you don’t do your job better, I’ll have to fire you. The Intelligence Director can’t have incompetent people working for him.”
Quentin’s eyes snapped open. “Director Arlox. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. Can you repeat the question?”
Jax shook his head in annoyance. “I asked you to brief me on our upcoming travel schedule.”
The other man frowned. “But I don’t have that information, sir. You never release those details until the day before a move. As far as I know, we’re planning to stay here for a while.” Jax wanted to ask where here was, but the less unexpected content he threw at the other man, the better the chances of getting something useful would be. He waved a hand and wondered for a moment what Quentin saw. An office, maybe. “Unimportant. Give me a full report on our current operations. Start with the hunter teams.”
He nodded. “Yes, Director. Of course.” His subservient tone was painful to hear. Apparently, Arlox treated those closest to him with the same disdain he spread over everyone else who interacted with him. “The ones sent after Reese failed. Our belief is the artificial intelligence gave him an edge of some kind, either physically or simply in awareness. The presence of Academy people defeated our trap at his destination, so clearly they knew it was coming.”
Jax grunted. “How do you think they found out?”
The other man shrugged. “I’m not a technician, sir, but I presume that they intercepted comm transmissions, or they had standing surveillance on the station in Inverness.”
“Probably the latter. Continue.” Didn’t hurt to hide the fact that the agents they’d had on the ground that day had a vulnerability in their comms that Athena had been able to exploit.
“The ones on Maarsen and the girlfriend were unable to breach the castle grounds. The defenses have been significantly increased over the norm, and rebuffed them before they could gain access to the building. I’m sure it didn’t help that it was daylight.”
“Most likely wouldn’t have mattered. They’ll have locked that building down hard. We probably shouldn’t try there again.” Maybe that would ensure a level of safety to people at the Academy, anyway. “And the ones on his military supporters?”
The man’s face twisted in confusion. “We weren’t able to target them, sir, as you know. They are safe aboard ship for the moment.”
He snarled, “That’s not the kind of answer I want to hear. Why don’t we have anyone on board?”
Quentin cringed. “We, we do, sir, but your orders were not to activate them until a guaranteed opportunity to take out the major presented itself. Has that changed?”
Bloody hell. “No, it hasn’t. I was checking to make sure you had all the facts at your command, Quentin, and you do. Go
od job.” The man beamed. Jax imagined that compliments from his boss were few and far between.
In his ear, Cia’s voice whispered, “Eight minutes.”
That left him only four to finish the interview before Juno would need access to their momentary captive to put the next part of their plan into play. “Very well. What about our plans for the Special Forces unit? We must eliminate everyone who can provide support to that bastard Reese.”
“Proceeding as expected, sir, according to the last update.” Dammit. Why couldn’t he give me something a little more than that? Jax wracked his brain for another question to ask that wouldn’t betray his lack of knowledge but failed to come up with one. So, he finished the way he’d been instructed. “Excellent, Quentin. Everything seems to be in order. It’s good that you’ve devoted this time to take care of your family. You have my support. Stay alert.” Jax traded places with Juno again, and the doctor used a larger injector with a bigger needle to shoot something into his calf, which required her to bend awkwardly but attractively over the backrest. She took her seat. “Check with your friend.”
Jax didn’t have to ask. Athena reported, “I detect no leakage from the nanoparticles. They appear to be operating as intended.” The tiny tracking devices now moving through Quentin’s bloodstream would remain inert for seventy-two hours, then would ping local networks with their location once a day for a fraction of a second. Anyone not listening for the signal at that precise moment would miss it.
Even better, they would leave his body over time as sweat and potentially tag other people who might be near him as well. The hope was that the spread would provide a pattern of Quentin’s movements, those of Arlox’s inner circle of subordinates, and eventually lead to hints about the director’s plans or whereabouts. Like Jax had said when they’d come up with it, trying to use the assistant was a longshot, but it was the only one they had. He snickered. There’s that word again. Shot.
Athena replied, “Keep practicing. Someday you might say something funny.” Jax shook his head and stared out the window as they pulled up to the hospital’s entrance. Cia scampered around and slid open the door, then touched the two men to wake them. “Geez, you guys must be tired. You fell asleep as soon as you got into the van. Didn’t rest much last night?”
Both men looked bleary, but neither seemed overly concerned about it. Quentin nodded. “My parents are in the hospital. They might not make it.”
Cia’s impressive acting skills were on display as she expressed her sympathies and helped the two men out of the car. “Take care, and I hope everything turns out all right. If you need a ride somewhere, you know where to find me.” She slid the door closed and patted the logo on the side. “It’s been a pleasure serving you.”
Jax thought, Now it’s your turn to serve us by leading us straight to your scumbag of a boss.
Chapter Eight
Zavian Arlox was annoyed. He had spent most of the day that way, encountering a succession of aggravating situations as the hours passed. Meetings with pesky people, listening to irritating reports and answering vexing questions that his capable assistant Quentin would generally have handled. He’d sent the man off with his blessing, although part of him had wanted to remind his assistant that his presence wouldn’t make a difference in whether his family members survived or not. That sort of emotional frailty was not a thing Arlox could identify with. Perhaps at one time in his life he might have understood it, but years of being the Alliance’s primary spymaster had eliminated most traces of compassion from his personality. Now there was only duty: the need to protect his people and their way of life from the constant threats presented by the Coalition and the Confederacy.
He looked up from the work on his desk as his office door opened, prepared to dress down whoever dared to interrupt him. However, he’d lost track of time because the woman who strode in was his second in command, and they had a standing meeting at nine in the evening whenever they were in the same location. He pushed aside the tablet in front of him with a sigh. “Jasmine, grab us some drinks before you sit.”
She was almost as tall as he was, a few inches shy of six feet, and had long brunette hair she wore straight in a curtain that fell to the middle of her back. That mane was the one imprecise thing about her. Her suit was sharp and exquisitely tailored. The skirt ended just below her knees, and the crisp white blouse was a perfect counterpoint to the gray jacket. Her boots were calf-high, polished black, and stylish. He studied her profile as she dropped a ball of ice into two tumblers and filled them each with a triple shot of whiskey. Her nose was a little too pointy for his taste, but it suited her face’s strong lines. She was someone who had never relied on her looks but instead traded on the force of her personality and the keen spark of her intellect. Those were the factors that had drawn him when he selected her from among his top lieutenants to serve as his right hand when the last one failed him for a second time.
She slid a glass across the desk as she sat in the chair opposite him, crossed her legs, and adjusted the skirt. He asked, “Any crises?”
Jasmine’s voice was dry, not quite sarcastic but seemingly always on the edge of it. “None that we didn’t face this morning when we woke up.” The comment made him think of how pleasant it might be to wake up with her by his side, but Arlox was never one to mix business with pleasure. Too much chance of getting close to someone who could betray you.
“Okay. Tell me about the Academy.”
“The hunter teams got no further than we expected them to, but did provide a useful test of the building’s external defenses. We believe there might be a blind spot in the back now, but can’t be positive based on this limited trial. They may have moved people around inside rather than on the outer grounds, which could account for why we didn’t see a response from that area to the incursion at the front. Or it could be that they’re simply quite disciplined. But I would put my money on no human guards assigned to the rear courtyard. Surveillance, certainly. Perhaps traps, likely mechanical deterrents of some kind.”
Arlox nodded with a slight frown. “But you think that would be the better choice for an assault if we needed to make one soon?”
“I do. If we sent in robotic cannon fodder to trigger the traps, and an attack wave right behind them, we might be able to get inside before their personnel could respond.”
He tapped a finger on the tablet on the desk while thinking. “We would likely have to use some expendable soldiers as well, in case there were traps that were only set off by something particularly human. Electromagnetic fields, temperature, whatever.” He waved a hand. “You know.”
She sipped her drink, then carefully set it back on the round wooden coaster that protected the desk from its moisture. “I do. We have mechanicals programmed to emulate all those things, but you are correct, better not to take chances. We can requisition some from the local military base in England if it becomes necessary.”
“Very good. Any sign of Reese?”
Jasmine shrugged. “None so far. We were forced to discontinue surveillance on the Academy after our attack since they were very much on the lookout. We’ve lost a few drones since then while trying to get a sense of the situation. I estimate it will still be several days or a week before their defenses lower enough that we’ll be able to reinsert any significant oversight. But we’ve not seen any evidence of him in Inverness or Edinburgh after his arrival.”
Arlox grunted an acknowledgment. “And the spaceport?”
“It’s being protected too carefully for us to have surveillance there, either. The ship Reese used before isn’t present, but we have no idea when it departed, if he was on it when it did, or where it went.”
“No satellite recordings?” His voice held a note of surprise since the Intelligence Division had access to every surveillance device the Alliance possessed.
She shook her head. “Interestingly, our satellites over that area have gaps in their recordings.”
Arlox slapped a palm down on the de
sk in frustration. “Damn you, Maarsen. You’re a clever bugger.” He sipped his drink and steadied his voice. “See that we get some of our technology into place. He’ll find it far harder to crack our systems than the military’s.” The scorn in his tone indicated his opinion of the quality of the armed forces’ resources.
She nodded. “Will do. In other news, Quentin called. His parents are recovering.”
“Good. Everything seemed normal there?”
“Also interestingly, several of our operatives were under surveillance during or around the time that Quentin was on Mars.”
He scowled. “Could be something targeted at Quentin, could be random chance. In any case, see to it that he takes the standard roundabout on the way back. Make sure no one can follow him to us.” The regular procedure involved a sort of shell game of ships and shuttles that would shake off anyone trying to follow. It added a good seventy-two hours to the travel time from any one place to another, but it had proven effective in the past, and there was no way in this time of heightened risk that they would abandon it. Still, four or more days without his assistant wasn’t something to look forward to. He took another drink to ease the pain of that realization.
Jasmine shrugged. “Sometimes a coincidence is just a coincidence, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure.”
“We need to get that damned intelligence out of Reese’s head. Otherwise, it will still be possible that someone could counter us. Is everything in place for our move against the Confederacy, the Snellar, and the Krastow?” The proper pronunciation of the alien species names required more effort than he was willing to give it.
“Proceeding as expected. The resources you moved into place on Ventralia are setting things up, and additional resources will be brought to bear over the next few days. We can’t bring everyone in at once, or we risk them noticing and either taking offense or getting suspicious. But there is one small snag.”