The Shadow Protocol

by Andy McDermott

  “Well, he’s started making divorce plans, so that’s hopefully a sign of improvement.”

  Tony laughed. “Sounds like he’s getting back to his old self.” They walked down a hallway.

  “How long have you known him?” she asked.

  “More than two years. Since I came to the Persona Project.”

  “Two years? I thought Adam only joined ten months ago.”

  “There was a lot of work needed to set things up. Let’s face it, what we do here sounds like science fiction—it’s complicated. And sometimes things didn’t go as planned.”

  “But everything’s working fine now?”

  “Yeah. Well, until Roger got shot.” They reached a set of security doors. Tony was about to use his card to open them, before smiling. “After you.”

  Bianca put her own card in the slot, getting a green light. “That’s a relief. I’d hate to get a red light when I was running for the loo.”

  They went through. “You’ve got access to pretty much the whole floor,” he said. “Everywhere except data storage and the weapons and equipment room.”

  “What, you’ve got your own Q Branch full of guns and spy gadgets?”

  “So we can mobilize quickly if we need to. It’s easier to have most everything we might need on site, rather than rounding it up from a dozen different places.”

  “What about the rest of the building? You said yesterday that STS has everything above the company downstairs. Is Persona only on this floor?”

  “Yeah. The floor below us is STS bureaucracy; it handles paperwork for operations here and at other STS facilities. The floor above’s like this one, with another Bullpen—projects can be assigned there if need be. There’s nothing active upstairs at the moment, though. Or if there is,” he added drily, “it’s so secret nobody’s told me about it. Then there’s a machine floor above that with air-conditioning, water tanks, that sort of thing. The building’s actually designed to be self-sufficient, by the way—if there’s a biological or chemical attack, it can be sealed up with its own air and water supplies for a few days. There are generators down in the basement.”

  “I hope I don’t get a demonstration of that while I’m here!”

  “Me too. But it’s best to be prepared.” They arrived at the Bullpen’s entrance. Tony used his card to enter.

  As on the previous day, there was little going on. Bianca recognized some of the people she had been introduced to—Holly Jo, Levon, Kyle—at their workstations. “Hey, brah,” said Kyle, swiveling to face them as they approached. “Dr. Childs.”

  “Hi, Kyle,” Tony replied. He looked around. “Where’s Adam?”

  “In the Cube.”

  “The Cube?” Bianca asked.

  Kyle nodded toward a door on one side of the chamber. “Adam’s personal chill-out room. He meditates in there, or something. Me, I prefer playing Xbox in the break room. They won’t let us hook up to Xbox Live for security reasons, though, which kinda sucks. Oh hey, Tony,” he added, sitting upright with sudden excitement. “I just got off the phone with Brad. He’s got the new UAVs ready to test, says his guys figured out a way to increase speed without costing too much battery life. I’m going over later to play with ’em.”

  “Let me know how they perform,” Tony said as he headed for the Cube, Bianca following. “And don’t forget to fill out the assessment documentation this time!”

  “Yeah, brah,” Kyle replied with a dismissive wave.

  “What’s this ‘brah’ thing?” Bianca asked.

  “It’s like calling someone ‘bro,’ but more annoying. It’s what all the hip young kids are saying today, so I’m told.”

  “You hardly look any older than him.”

  “I’m flattered! No, he’s only twenty-four, twenty-five, something like that. Actually, most of the project staff members are pretty young—the ones in the Bullpen, anyway. They make me feel like a kindergarten teacher.”

  She made a minor show of examining his handsome features. “I’d say you were about … thirty-five.”

  “Okay, I’m slightly less flattered than I was a moment ago. Only a little, though.”

  They shared a smile as they reached the door. Tony knocked. “Adam? You in there?”

  “Yes,” came the reply. They entered.

  The Cube didn’t quite live up to its name, being rectangular in plan. It did fit the bill as a meditation room, however. The walls and ceiling were plain white, lit by soft recessed spotlights, while the carpet was a neutral cream. A low leather couch, similar to a psychiatrist’s, occupied the center.

  Adam, however, was seated on one of the matching chairs at the room’s far end. If he had been meditating, his pose showed no evidence of it; it looked to Bianca more as if he had simply been staring into space. His eyes fixed upon the new arrivals. “Tony. Dr. Childs.”

  “You can call me Bianca, you know,” she said. “Both of you. Now that we’re working together.”

  “Bianca, then. What can I do for you?”

  “We need to introduce Doc—I mean, Bianca”—Tony gave her a sidelong grin—“to the exciting world of international espionage. Or, as we call it, reading directives and filling out forms.” The joke was only mildly funny, but still enough to produce a smile from Bianca. Adam’s expression—or lack thereof—remained unchanged, however. “I want to bring her up to speed on what we do and how we do it. Gently, though. I think there might be some culture shock.”

  Adam nodded. “When?”

  Tony checked his watch. “It’s coming up on lunchtime, so there’s no point doing anything until after then. How about we meet at two, in briefing A?”

  “Okay. I’ll see you both then.”

  That was clearly the end of the conversation. Bianca and Tony exited. “So, is that what Adam does when he’s not on a mission?” she asked facetiously as they crossed the Bullpen. “Sits in a plain room staring at the wall? I mean, he didn’t even have a newspaper to read.”

  Tony was defensive. “He does a lot more than that. Assessing intelligence reports, briefings, physical training, weapons training—anything that can make him even better at his job. The personas he uses are only a boost to his abilities; he still has to be a top-flight agent in his own right. The Cube’s just where he goes for some peace and quiet. But,” he said, in a more apologetic tone, “if he asked for anything else in there, we’d give it to him. He just hasn’t asked.”

  “Oh. Sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean to be rude. I know he must be your friend.”

  “Yeah. I suppose …” For a moment, it didn’t seem as if Tony was actually sure. “Anyway, as I said, it’s close to lunchtime. How about I treat you to something from one of DC’s fine range of franchised sandwich shops?”

  Bianca laughed. “How could I refuse?”

  Kyle leaned over Holly Jo’s workstation, watching Bianca and Tony as they left the room. “So, guys—what do you think?”

  Levon padded over from his nearby desk. “About Dr. Childs?”

  “No, brah, about the Fed’s new fund rate. Of course about her, dumbass!”

  “I just think there’s something weird about the whole thing,” said Holly Jo. “All the times they’ve told us that the PERSONA tech has to be kept ultra-secret, even from other parts of STS, no leaks … and then they bring in a foreigner out of nowhere?”

  “She’s supposed to be some old student of Roger’s,” said Levon.

  “Supposed to be? Or actually is and you hacked into her file to see for yourself, and are just saying ‘supposed to be’ to cover your butt?”

  Levon put up his hands in a protestation of innocence. “She’s supposed to be, that’s all I’m saying.”

  Kyle leaned closer. “Next time you hack in, can you look at my personnel assessment and see if I’m up for a raise?”

  The hands went up again. “I ain’t doin’ nothin’!”

  “So what do you think?” Holly Jo asked Kyle.

  He stroked his chin. “Well … I wouldn’t kick her out
of bed.”

  “Oh for God’s sake.” She sighed.

  “What? I wouldn’t! Sure, she dresses kinda frumpy, and her hair’s a mess, but you know what they say—it’s the quiet ones who get wildest in bed. She’s got a sort of sexy librarian thing going on. And, y’know, chicks with English accents—always kind of hot.”

  Levon shook his head. “Man, one of these days you are going to come into work and find a sixteen-page sexual harassment lawsuit on your desk.”

  “Only sixteen?” said Holly Jo. Kyle made a dismissive pffft! noise. “But seriously, you guys—what happens if Roger doesn’t come back for six months? Or ever? Is there even still a project without him? Would we all lose our jobs?”

  Levon looked around as Adam emerged from the Cube. “I don’t think it’s Roger’s health we should be worrying about. If there’s one person the project depends on …”

  Kyle shook his head. “Adam can take care of himself. Come on, he took out a bunch of terrorists single-handed and jumped off a friggin’ building, and there was hardly a scratch on him. That’s some Jason Bourne shit, right there. Dude’s a badass!”

  “I don’t think Levon meant Adam’s physical health,” Holly Jo said as the trio watched the blank-faced man cross the room.

  Bianca spent the afternoon learning more about how the Persona Project—and Adam—operated. Some of what she discovered shocked her: not least that Adam was, technically, a cyborg. With a two-way radio implanted inside one ear, powered by a kinetic battery beneath the skin at the base of his spine that used his body’s own movements to recharge itself, he certainly fit the dictionary definition.

  However, whatever startling revelations there were about Adam Gray the agent, she still had no handle on Adam Gray the man. He remained as opaque as the first moment they’d met. His answers to all of her questions were precise, factual … and devoid of anything resembling an emotive viewpoint.

  After a few hours, her attention began to slip. “Okay, I think we should take a break,” said Tony. “You look like you need some coffee.”

  She shook her head. “Oh God, no. If I have too much caffeine in the afternoon, I can never get to sleep.”

  “Something else, then. We’ve got a selection in the break room. Even tea—maybe that’ll help you feel more at home?”

  “You know, not all Brits are obsessed with tea,” she mock-chided. “Just like we don’t all talk like Dick Van Dyke and have bad teeth.”

  Tony was caught off guard. “Sorry, I didn’t mean …”

  She let him off the hook. “But I like tea.”

  “Great. We’ll pick up in twenty minutes, then.”

  They left the briefing room. Bianca followed Tony, but Adam went to the Bullpen. Bianca glanced back as he entered. Was he going to talk to one of the analysts, or …

  “I’ll catch up,” she told Tony as they passed one of the bathrooms. He nodded and continued on his way. She went into the ladies’ room, waited until she was sure he would be out of sight, then returned to the door of the Bullpen.

  Her card opened it. She went inside. No sign of Adam. The nearest person she knew by name was Holly Jo. “Hi. I’m looking for Adam—did he just come in here?”

  “Yes, he went into the Cube.” She wagged a manicured finger toward the door.

  “Okay, thanks.” Bianca crossed the chamber, Holly Jo watching her with curiosity.

  She stopped outside the Cube’s entrance, considered what she was about to say, then knocked. After a few seconds she got a reply, and entered.

  This time Adam was on the couch. He sat upright. “Bianca, hi. What can I do for you?”

  His greeting was so similar in tone and cadence to that of a few hours earlier, it could have been a recording. “Oh, nothing—just a social call,” she said. “I thought that since we’ll be working together, it might be helpful if we got to know each other better.”

  He didn’t recoil in horror at the prospect, but neither did he display any enthusiasm. “What do you want to know?”

  “Just a bit more about you, really. I mean you you, not agent you.”

  That finally brought a glimmer of emotion to his face, though it wasn’t one she had expected. He seemed mildly bewildered by the very idea. “Really?”

  “Yes, sure. What are you like when you’re not being someone else? I’d like to know.”

  “Well, I’m …” He hesitated. “I can’t—”

  The door flew open, Kiddrick rushing in. He had the manic aggression of someone who expected to discover their spouse in flagrante. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean, what’s going on?” said Bianca, surprised.

  “I mean, what are you doing in here with Adam?”

  “I’m … talking to him? Like I have been for the past three hours.”

  “He comes in here for privacy and quiet,” Kiddrick snapped. “Not for chitchat! When he’s in here, it’s because he wants to get away from the stresses of his work. You should respect that, and stay out of here.”

  “Are you his dad or something?” said Bianca, riled by his attitude.

  His eyes bulged even wider than usual. “What did you say?”

  “I said, are you his dad? Are we in your house? Because you seem to be setting ground rules for everyone.”

  He drew himself to his full height. “Now, look here! I created the Persona Project, and when I tell you to do something—”

  “Is there a problem?” said Tony, entering.

  Kiddrick spun to face him. “She’s talking to Adam!”

  He nodded calmly. “Okay. And you’re angry about that because …?”

  “Because she shouldn’t be! The Cube is supposed to be a refuge, a sanctum—you of all people should—”

  Another person appeared. “This room doesn’t sound much like a sanctum to me,” said Morgan. “What’s going on?”

  Kiddrick spoke first, jabbing a finger at Bianca. “She—”

  “Dr. Childs,” Morgan interjected. “What’s all this about?”

  “I just wanted to ask Adam something,” she replied, taking brief pleasure in Kiddrick’s fury at being cut off. “The next thing that happened was that Dr. Kiddrick burst in here like the Tasmanian Devil.”

  Kiddrick glared at her, then turned to Morgan. “You know why I—”

  He was interrupted again. “All right,” said Morgan. “Dr. Kiddrick, calm down—we can discuss this in my office. Dr. Childs, I know that you’re new both to STS and to the entire working ethos of an intelligence agency, but you have to realize that this is not a social club.”

  “It wasn’t as if I was asking him out on a date,” she protested.

  “I’m sure you weren’t. But please, in the future, if Adam is in here, then respect his privacy. Okay, Dr. Kiddrick?”

  Still seething, Kiddrick stomped past him back out into the Bullpen. Morgan gestured for Bianca and Tony to follow. They did, Bianca looking back at Adam. His gaze met hers, still seeming perturbed by her interest.

  Outside, the commotion had drawn an audience. “All right, show’s over,” said Morgan as he closed the door. Heads reluctantly turned back to monitors. “And where are you going?”

  Tony was guiding Bianca to an exit. “Getting back to what we were doing, Martin. Adam and I were taking a break from briefing Dr. Childs. She’s British, she can’t function for long without tea.”

  Morgan made an amused sound. “All right. But don’t take too long about it.”

  They headed for the break room. Bianca shook her head. “Talk about overreacting.”

  “I’m sorry, I should have warned you,” said Tony. “Kiddrick doesn’t like Adam … well, he calls it ‘fraternizing’ with anyone.”

  “Roger mentioned it,” she said, remembering her earlier conversation. “So where exactly do I stand with Kiddrick? Is he my boss?”

  A small laugh. “He likes to think he’s everyone’s boss. But no, he’s not. He and Roger both report directly to Martin, but they’re equal in … not rank, exactly
, but position. They’re outside the operational chain of command, though.”

  “So if I’m standing in for Roger, does that mean I’ve got equal status to Kiddrick?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, yes.”

  “Good! I’ll remember that the next time he goes off on one at me.”

  Tony laughed again. “That should be fun to watch. Okay, let’s get your tea.”

  The long day over, Bianca returned to her car. The Fusion was not all the agency had provided; although her own phone was compatible with the US network, she had still been given another, Tony explaining that it had “NSA-grade security.” However, that was of less interest to her than having the American government pay for her international calls.

  So she first rang her parents to assure them she was perfectly fine and her sudden decampment to the other side of the Atlantic was nothing to worry about; then James Harding to say much the same for business rather than personal reassurance. The good news there was that the deal had gone through, the investors finally signing earlier that day. Harper’s threat had remained unused. Her absence would not even be an immediate issue—as Albion had said, everything was now in the hands of lawyers and bankers.

  “But,” said James, “you will be back here when everything gets moving again, won’t you? You are rather important to Thymirase’s development, after all.”

  There was definite concern behind his understatement. Bianca couldn’t do much to alleviate it. “Believe me, I’ll be back the second Roger is on his feet. When that’ll be, though … I don’t know. A few weeks. Maybe.”

  “Hopefully not much longer. Are you seriously telling me there’s literally not a single person in the whole of the States who could take over for him?”

  “Apparently not,” she replied, deciding he wouldn’t like the truth even if she could tell him.

  “Oh. Great. Still, whatever it is you’re up to is obviously important, considering I had MI6 talk to me yesterday and somebody from the US embassy today. So make sure you claim for everything you can think of on your expenses, all right?”

  “They’re paying for this call, for a start …” She trailed off on seeing someone crossing the parking garage.