by Jan Domagala
“I take it then your thoughts are favourable at this point?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where are you on OMEGA?”
“We’ve contacted every megacorp in the Confederation with details of Maguire, the Rover. We’ve forwarded them his ID, his DNA, voice pattern, fingerprints and retinal pattern. Any one of these would be enough for them to recognise a clone if he’s there. I’ve ordered him to be detained by their security staff until we can send someone to pick him up and for his access to any data bases to be terminated forthwith.”
“Very good.”
“Sir, I would ask you to contact your counterpart in the Alliance and suggest they do likewise. OMEGA failed here with us because Jonas Wilde held a grudge against Col Sec and me personally. There is nothing to say that if we don’t smash them they won’t try to get the Alliance to do their dirty work, turn the cold war hot once more.”
“I see your point, General. You have my word; I’ll get right on it. What do you intend to do about Maxwell Eisenhower?”
“As soon as Matt returns from Fort Bragg I intend we drop in and see him.”
“Keep me informed.”
“As always, sir.”
“It’s been three weeks now, General, since the attack, how’s the recovery operation going for the bodies at the site?”
“It’s going well, sir. They’ve recovered enough to identify over thirty thousand people whose loved ones have been notified. All the remains have been recovered now and the identification process goes on and should be completed as per schedule, the site is being rendered safe as we speak.”
The memorial service will go ahead as planned then I presume?”
“Correct sir. Matt and I will be back from Cordoba by then and the search for the base will be complete also, it’ll go ahead on time as planned, sir.”
“Good, maybe people can get some closure then.”
“Yes, sir, let’s hope so.”
“Have your people identified Jonas Wilde in the wreckage from that transport yet? Three weeks seems an awful long time with the technology available to them.”
“They managed to locate a trace of DNA which they ran tests on but they couldn’t get a positive ID from it, claimed the sample was too degraded from exposure to the vacuum of space. Another sample was found and multiplied so they’d have enough to test, but every test came back with the same result, that of cellular degradation.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I’m afraid so, sir. The only way that all the tests could show that level of degradation was if the sample was taken from a clone.”
“Dear God!”
“Yes, sir, Jonas Wilde is still alive.”
* * * * *
Matt Hawk left Fort Bragg and drove to where he’d left Tanya Wilde under the protection of two Col Sec agents, both recruits from Recon Delta as he himself had been.
Armed with the knowledge that the man he’d killed was a clone and not Tanya’s real father, he was faced with a real dilemma. Should he tell her the truth or not?
Should he allow her to think that her father was dead, that he’d killed him and in that way find some closure and move on with her life, probably hating Hawk for depriving her of her last parent, regardless of the kind of man he had been?
What happened though if she learned the truth? She would hate him for lying to her.
If, on the other hand, he told her the truth he would be consigning her to a life of continual fear. A fear that one day he would return for her again.
During the long drive to the safe house he pondered the question: what to do, what to tell her? As he pulled up outside the building he had come to the decision that it would be best to tell her the truth, she deserved that much at least and if she required his help he would give it freely.
The safe house was in a secluded area outside of New York’s sprawling metropolis. The street it was situated on had few houses and the owners liked to live private lives away from the prying eyes of the public or the lenses of the news channels on the GalaxyWeb. As a result, when he pulled his ground car up at the massive gates at the bottom of the tree-lined driveway, identified himself with a retina scan, then entered, no one gave him a second glance.
The house was quite large having five bedrooms, two bathrooms, two lounges, a large kitchen and a dining room. The entrance hall was open plan, in that a stairway led to a circular balcony, which fed the rooms upstairs. It was positioned centrally giving access to all the rooms on the ground floor. To the rear of the house was a large conservatory that overlooked the impressive lawns.
Hawk parked the ground car, a nondescript Maxim cruiser, one of the many pool cars available to Col Sec agents, on the white gravel forecourt in front of the house. The door slid into the recess in the coachwork allowing him to exit the vehicle and stretch his back and legs. The long drive had been almost intolerable with his six feet six inch frame squashed into the cramped interior of the Maxim. He loved to drive but these pool cars were a nightmare for him and he hadn’t had the time to pick up his own vehicle, an Alpha GTV9000, a two-seater sports coupé that was his dream car and an absolute beast to drive.
The front door to the safe house was situated centrally leading to the entrance hall and as he approached it opened.
Cameras on top of the gateposts, which gave an unobstructed view of the street in both directions for several hundred feet, watched his approach. Other cameras on the roof of the house picked him up as he entered through the gates and walked up the drive to the house. Not only did the cameras watch him they also scanned him so the agents knew he was coming, if he was armed and what physical condition he was in, right down to a skeletal scan.
“Matt, long time, no see,” greeted Mike Gregory, one of the two agents tasked with babysitting Tanya Wilde. Slightly shorter than Hawk at six feet three, he was still an impressive size and in good shape. He kept his light brown hair cut very short, almost down to the scalp, somehow accentuating the hazel eyes, which sparkled as his easy smile told Hawk he was pleased to see him.
“Mike, man, how long’s it been?” Hawk replied as he walked up the two stone steps to the front door to give his friend a bear hug, as they slapped each other on the back.
“Got to be years man since we were last in Delta together,” Gregory said, as they separated to look each other over.
“We’re still in Delta Mike, once a Recon Delta marine, always a Recon Delta marine, you know that,” Hawk said smiling.
“True, so very true, it gets hard sometimes when you get stuck with a babysitting gig like this though.”
“That lady is one very important lady. I can’t go into details but she ties in with the recent events at HQ.”
“You mean the attack?”
“Yep, can’t say any more, it’s classified, but this is more than just a babysitting gig.”
“Should’ve known really.”
“Not really, it was on a need to know basis, you know how it is. Anyway, you’re looking good. Listen I just need to see her, and then we can catch up before I head off again, okay?”
“Fine, she’s in her room, bedroom number one. Maguire has just taken her evening meal up to her, she’s not feeling too well.”
Hawk’s blood froze at the mention of the name.
“Who?” he asked, filled with a feeling of dread.
“Maguire, new guy, only arrived today. Carter was given this gig with me originally but he has gone on compassionate leave. Apparently his wife died yesterday, an accident at home or something,” Gregory explained.
“What’s this Maguire like?” Hawk asked.
“He checks out, Matt. What’s this about? I know you, what’s wrong?”
“His eyes, tell me about his eyes,” Hawk insisted.
“Strange you should mention those – opaline green.”
Hawk was past Gregory in a flash, running up the staircase, his legs pumping to power him forward. He’d already drawn his new Sig P999 and
pulled back on the slide to prime it. He was already half way up the stairs before Gregory had time to draw his own weapon and follow.
On his way up, his eyes searched for the right bedroom and the one to the far left was the only one with the door ajar; that had to be the one.
Reaching the top of the stairs Hawk turned to the left and reached the bedroom in a few strides. With a kick from his right foot the door was smashed open, almost coming off its hinges and the sight before him chilled his blood even further.
Standing before him in the centre of the room at the foot of the king-size bed was Maguire; his arm outstretched holding a Sig P996 to the forehead of a terrified Tanya Wilde. Those distinctive opaline eyes stared straight at Hawk as he burst into the room, his own gun aimed straight at him.
“You must be Matt Hawk,” Maguire said.
“Didn’t I kill you already?” Hawk replied hoping to put the clone off his stride.
“Oh, very good, calm in the face of impending danger, but in this case that’s easy I suppose, seeing it’s her and not you that the gun is aimed at,” Maguire said calmly with a trace of derision in his voice.
Tanya’s eyes were pleading with him to help but at the moment there was absolutely nothing Hawk could do but see how the situation panned out.
“Put the gun down,” he said calmly not wanting to precipitate what the clone was obviously here to do.
“Can’t do that, Matt.”
“How?” Hawk asked, hoping to learn something at least before the shit hit the fan and he killed his only lead, the one thing in this situation he was certain of.
“Oh, we still have contacts inside Col Sec. I found out who was guarding Tanya here, had to be Carter, Gregory out there has no one, been a loner most of his life. Recon Delta is his family, but Carter, he had a wife, lovely creature. I killed her so I could replace him. I knew you’d come to visit; you had to, seeing as how you showed such affection for her, coming to her rescue like that. Oh, how it must’ve pained you to have to kill her father. What would she have thought of you? But on discovering you didn’t really kill him, you had to come and give her the news. Well, I have a message from Daddy, and I had to wait for you to arrive Matt, it’s a message for you both. Daddy says that you’ve been a naughty girl Tanya and you must be punished.”
With that, never taking his eyes off Hawk he fired the Sig. Tanya’s scream was cut short as her head exploded from the pulsed plasma bolt fired at point blank range. Blood erupted over the bed as she was sent flying backwards, arms outstretched to land on her back, bouncing slightly on the mattress before settling down.
She died instantly.
Hawk caught all this; even though the second Maguire fired he too fired a rapid double tap. The two shots struck the clone’s head almost as one in a mist of blood, throwing him to the far side of the room to land in a crumpled heap, killing him stone dead.
Gregory rushed in to verify what he already knew, that the shooter was dead, while Hawk went to the bed.
Tanya, or what was left of her, was unrecognisable. The shot had destroyed her lovely face, her head was nothing but the lower half from the nose down, just a jumbled wreck of tissue and mashed bones covered in a patina of her own blood.
“Matt, what the fuck just happened here man?” Gregory asked from his position by the dead clone.
“Classified Mike, that’s all I can tell you,” Hawk replied, his voice deep and dark, full of rage. Turning away from the gory remains on the bed he left the bedroom and headed for the staircase. With a clench of his teeth he activated his ear bug and said, “General, we have a problem.”
32
On his way out to the cruiser, Hawk told Gregory to hold the fort until the clean-up squad arrived and then he left with no further explanation.
It was just a short drive from the safe house to the nearest spaceport where a sub-orbital shuttle was waiting to take him to Area 15 where General Sinclair would be waiting for him. The shuttle was one of a fleet that was loaned to Col Sec for private use in cases such as this, when military transport was unavailable or logistically infeasible. It was a small, sleek dart of a craft that had all the luxuries of a much larger passenger shuttle. The Cessna C210, nicknamed the Silver Dart due to its sleek profile and swept back wing configuration, would get Hawk to Nevada in a fraction of the time a commercial flight would and in a lot more comfort. That fact, however, did nothing to improve his mood and he doubted anything would until he crushed Jonas Wilde and his insidious group, OMEGA.
“Can I get you anything?” said a voice at his side. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, dark thoughts full of blood and revenge; he failed to notice the flight attendant until she’d spoken. When her words finally registered he turned to look at the bright-eyed young woman with the beaming smile.
“I’m sorry, I was lost in thought then,” he apologised, his voice still dark and full of menace.
“That’s okay, sir, rough day was it?” she asked.
“You have no idea,” he said trying to hide the pain and anger he was feeling. The need to lash out was almost overwhelming and it wasn’t this young woman’s fault, so he had to control his urges.
“Can I get you anything to eat then, I always find a hot meal helps me to unwind after a tough day, you know, refuel for the next day, give you the strength to fight on.”
“You know, I am hungry, I can’t remember the last time I ate, so bring me whatever’s on the menu please.”
“Anything to drink, sir, the wet bar is quite impressive.”
“It has been a rough day so bring me a large whisky, I don’t care which just as long as it’s a single malt.”
“Coming right up, sir.”
“Excuse me Miss, but what do I call you?” Hawk asked once he’d finished ordering and she was about to leave. He found talking to her had actually helped his mood somewhat.
“I’m Lieutenant O’Neil, sir, and your flight crew are Captain Wright and Lieutenant Commander Sanders,” she replied courteously.
“Thank you Lieutenant O’Neil,” he said with a brief smile. “You ought to do that more often if you don’t mind my saying, sir?”
“Excuse me?” he asked, not sure what she meant.
“Smile, sir,” she replied then turned and walked towards the rear of the shuttle to fill his order.
He was taken aback by her comment and he glanced around his seat to watch her leave. He was surprised to see her glance at him over her shoulder just as she went through the door.
Her smile was genuine and he had to admit she certainly was easy on the eye and, despite his earlier dark thoughts, he found himself smiling.
When she returned with his glass of Jameson Gold Reserve she said, “Your meal will be along shortly, sir,” and was gone again.
He took a sip of the amber liquid savouring the creaminess and honey sweetness as it lay on his tongue, before swallowing it and allowing the warmth to spread through him up to the peppery finale as he began to finally relax.
On his drive from the safe house he’d called Sinclair to give him a sit-rep and was told to stay on the Cessna where the General would join him once he arrived at Area 15. From there they would go directly to the Legend, which had returned from the search for the illusive base. They would dock with the cruiser and proceed to Cordoba and their meeting with Maxwell Eisenhower.
Everything was set in place; all that seemed to be required of him was to go along. With nothing left to do but wait, he sat back in the plush padded seat to savour his drink until the meal arrived.
His meal was rack of lamb with roast potatoes and seasonal vegetables embellished with mint flavoured gravy, and was quite superb. As he ate his mind wandered over what Maguire had said, the message that was for both Tanya and him and was to be delivered personally. Maguire must’ve known that it was a suicide mission, still more evidence of the blind obedience programmed into the clones, but the message wasn’t what he said but rather what he did. Look at the lengths I will go to, to deliver this
message, even though it will cost me my life. Look at how easily we can reach you even though you think you are safe.
The message was clear. How were they supposed to fight and defeat an enemy with resources and resolve like that?
It was clearly meant to demoralise them but in fact it had had the opposite effect upon Hawk. He was now more than ever determined to see this through to the bitter end, and he was sure General Sinclair would feel the same.
Before he knew it the Cessna was landing at Area 15, a bleak military outpost in a remote part of the Nevada desert. From the ground it appeared to be a few low buildings dotted here and there, the real base stretched several miles underground and covered more than five city blocks.
General Sinclair boarded and Captain Wright soon had the sleek Silver Dart airborne once more. He wasted no time getting to and docking with the Legend, barely giving Sinclair time to get comfortable before he and Hawk were being led up to the bridge where they met another old friend.
“Nice to see you again, Colonel,” Sinclair said as he saw the figure of Colonel De Boer standing next to Captain Walker Townsend, commander of the Legend.
“Nice to see you too, sir, and you, Matt, but it’s not good news I’m afraid,” De Boer replied.
“Go on,” Sinclair said.
“We covered the entire area twice with no signs of any base being there at any time. We ran every test, every scan we could, sir, and still came up with nothing.”
“I’ve a theory about that,” Hawk said. Something had been bothering him about Wilde’s escape plan and, with the results now in, it was time to air his thoughts.
“Go on, Matt,” Sinclair urged.
“It’s been bothering me, sir, that Wilde used a transport with a limited range on the hyper drive. Why? Was it because their base was that close? The search proved that not to be the case, so another alternative would be that he was rendezvousing with another craft for the second leg of the journey, which I feel is doubtful. He already had a hyper drive so why use two ships for one journey, seems pointless? The only other alternative is that he programmed the nav-comp for another jump and we stopped it before it could be completed.”
