by C. R. Daems
"Something that would scatter…no, panic the crowd," Pannell said with excitement. "What would you prefer to do?"
"I think I'd prefer to stay in the building. Unless of course the evacuation is real." I laughed.
"If you stay, I'll leave two Marines with you and change into the Marine uniform I'm leaving you. It may give you an edge."
* * *
"Shouldn't we all be wearing weapons?" Newman asked, as I sat for my scheduled staff meeting.
"From my experience, I would be more afraid of being shot by one of you than the HoBos." I laughed. "Most Navy personnel qualify at the beginning of their Naval career, and then never touch a weapon again. Most would be shot before they located the safety. And if you got the safety off, most would be lucky to hit the intended target one in five or six shots. No offense. It's not a skill the Navy encourages, since those on cruisers have Marines for protection. Besides, we have Marines in the room and they not only know where the safety is, they can hit the target every time." I smiled at the two Marines standing against the wall. "So, who can tell me who runs the HoBo organization?" I sat sipping my coffee as silence descended on the room. "All right, how do we find out who is directing the HoBos?"
More silence.
"Capture one of the HoBos and get him to talk." Atkins said.
"He's most likely a soldier and doesn’t know. He just takes assignments."
"Arrest the contacts. They should know," Cooper said.
"If you were running the organization, would you let them know how to identify you?"
"We need to discover how the leader communicates with the contacts," Newman said tentatively.
"Correct. The contacts get their instructions from the leaders of the organization, so they have to communicate. That's your homework assignment," I said, “while the Marines take care of the HoBos on the Ceto and Graeae."
* * *
"I know where the safety is located and can hit the target," Stamm said when he saw me notice the weapon he was wearing as we walked towards my office.
"Wouldn't doubt that for a moment, Carl. Master Chief Ransom taught me to shoot, after I could prove I knew how it worked, could take it apart, clean it, and put it back together." I grinned.
"That's the right way to learn." He nodded, a knowing look on his face. "What now?"
"We wait. It's the HoBos' move next.” I mixed my coffee and sat, thinking about the problem I had posed for my staff—how did the leaders communicate with the HoBos' planet contacts? Logically, by WavCom. Directly to them or to an intermediate. What would I do… The fire alarm blared and shortly afterward the announcement.
"There is a credible bomb threat. All personnel must immediately evacuate the building. This is not a test." The message was repeated every few minutes between the blaring of the alarm. Just then Pannell and a large group of Marines entered my office.
"Have you decided?" Pannell asked. I reached up and stroked Red. I nodded and stripped out of my whites and slipped into the Marine uniform Pannell had provided and smiled when I saw he had provided a gas mask. The uniform was a good fit. At the same time, a small woman Marine slipped into a Navy commander's uniform.
"I'll stay and watch," I said. Pannell pointed to a sergeant and a corporal.
"You stay with the commander." He looked around and, satisfied, waved. "Let's go." He led the way out of the office toward the stairs, which I thought a good choice.
"Master Chief, go with Colonel Pannell. That will add credibility to the fact I'm with the group," I said, and we made our way down the stairs. Carl nodded reluctantly.
By the time we entered the lobby the number of people exiting had slowed. I didn't follow Pannell but moved to the side of the lobby with the information booth, where I and my two Marines took cover. I wanted to see what was about to happen.
Uncertainty gripped me when I saw the Bomb Squad vehicle at the bottom of the steps. If they were coming in… HoBos? I reached into my uniform and inside the protective gear to touch Red. He was safe and the touch calmed me. Wouldn't make sense. They would have to search the entire building. No. They weren't coming in… Then I saw a man step out the back of the truck with a short weapon and fire. A cloud of smoke blossomed and people started running, screaming, and shouting.
"Come with me," I shouted as I ran back through the lobby and into the building. I ran as fast as I could, checking offices and cubicles as I ran. I stopped suddenly, snatched an officer's dress white jacket and slipped it on as I continued running. When I reached the emergency exit in the rear, I stopped. "Grab me by my arms and run with me between you and well into the crowd like we are hiding. Keep your gas masks ready." When they nodded I lifted my arms and they put theirs through mine and we exited the building and ran for the crowd milling across the street. We had just entered a few steps into the crowd when a smoke bomb exploded a meter or two behind us. I whirled around, stripped off the jacket, knelt, put on my gas mask, and drew my weapon. The Marines did the same. Only seconds later a man appeared, waving his military-looking rifle side to side, looking for his prey. The three of us shot at the same time, the man was propelled backward, and landed on his back.
"Jack, you okay?" another man appeared in the fog, barely visible. Three more shots and the truck was heard accelerating away.
"The colonel isn't going to be happy," the sergeant muttered.
"Tell him I didn’t give you a choice."
"He still isn't going to be happy. He's very fond of you, ma'am. We all are." As he talked, his eyes never strayed from surveying the area.
* * *
"Why? That was…reckless, Commander Paulus," Pannell said when the sergeant explained what I had done.
"When I saw what happened out front, I realized they probably had a similar group in the back in case I exited the rear. And that represented an excellent opportunity to identify the HoBos on the Ceto and the Graeae. And that reduces the number of people trying to kill me by six." I smiled sweetly. "And would leave only three ships with HoBos."
Paul just shook his head. "We've identified the men we shot as Sergeants Lacroix and Corporal Saavedra from the Graeae and Sergeant Brogan and Corporal Tejo from the Ceto. There is a city-wide search for a Sergeant Carrillo and a Corporal Trejo, so you aren't safe until they are found."
* * *
"It was a fucking trap," Corporal Trejo snarled.
"By now they will know our names and have a planet-wide search for us," Sergeant Carrillo said. "So we have no options except to kill that little bitch, collect our reward, and live happily ever after, or die trying."
Trejo's head jerked up and he smiled. "Yeah. With that much money we can disappear and be reborn wealthy gentlemen." He laughed. "I'm not going to prison so, rich or dead."
"We need to stay out of sight for a few days to let things calm down before we act. Let her and Pannell think we left the planet or at least aren't in New Hope." Carrillo said.
Trejo grinned. "Maybe it's for the best. Two way split is better than six."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Chasing HoBos
"Teresa, can you run a search for me?" I asked, when everyone had returned to the building.
"I guess the rumor that you had been shot by the masked men isn't true." She gave a short laugh.
"The Marines killed four of the six who staged the attack, two each from the Ceto and the Graeae. And they have a planet-wide search for the other two as they know who the dead men's friends were."
"But that leaves two loose," she said, concern in her tone. "Will the search help catch them?"
"No. I'd like a search of the WavCom for the last forty-five days for outgoing messages. I suspect the head of the HoBo organization is on Eastar, it's the hub of the UAS. If I'm right, they have to send instructions via the WavCom."
"That is going to be a lot of messages. That's anywhere from ten to twenty a day."
"That will help keep my staff busy. Wouldn't want them to get bored." I laughed. "And can you get me the itinerary for the Laelaps, B
oreas, and Oedipus?"
"Those are the remaining cruisers with HoBos?" Hadley asked.
"Yes."
"And you are going to do something brave and stupid?"
"Neither, I hope."
"I'll bring the results to your office. The price is telling me what happened."
* * *
"Has anyone identified the leaders of the HoBo?" I asked as I sat. I had scheduled an impromptu staff meeting the next day, after Hadley had delivered the data from the two searches I had requested.
"Ma'am, we tried a brainstorming session yesterday but didn't come up with any concrete ideas," Newman said. "We got interrupted by the evacuation and distracted afterward, wondering what, if anything, had happened to you."
"Colonel Pannell and his detail had deduced the HoBos would try to have the building evacuated in order to get me outside. Which demonstrates that plans seldom survive contact with the enemy—in this case, Marine security—or the inverse, surprises are good if you are the surprisor and bad if you are the surprisee. The HoBos lost four of the six attackers. The two who got away are known and will eventually be caught." I knew Pannell wasn't happy with two on the loose and their only good option was to kill me. "This flash drive contains a list of all the outgoing messages over the past forty-five days. I'm hoping the HoBo ringleaders are operating out of Eastar. If we're lucky, that group of messages will contain correspondence to the planet contacts. Cooper, you may want Lieutenant Cintron to sort the list by individual or company with the highest number of messages sent. If they are stupid, our ringleaders will be near the top."
"Why, ma'am?" Cooper asked.
"Because they have to send the information for each contact to fourteen planets."
"And if they aren't?" Atkins asked, with a slight grin.
"It's going to take a lot more work."
* * *
"I see you have homework," Alexa said as we sat in the living room after dinner, where I had explained the HoBo-innovated plan and how we had eliminated four of the six.
"Yes, I'm hoping the HoBo ringleader is working out of Eastar. If so, one or more of these five hundred and eleven messages are from him or her."
"Like a very small needle which is hopefully in the large haystack you are looking." She shook her head. "And I imagine the needle doesn't look like a needle."
"No, like a piece of hay," I said as I opened the sorted file Cintron had sent me. Not too surprising, seven government organizations led the list of the most active, with a total of over three hundred messages. I put those messages in a separate file to consider later if the others didn't turn up anything. Then I did a search on messages being sent to multiple planets. That netted twenty and totaled over a hundred messages. As I had suspected, the HoBo leader wasn't stupid. It meant he sent the message to one person or a contact, who forwarded it to others. I decided to quit a little after midnight and retired to bed.
* * *
While waiting for Lulltrel's staff meeting, I went over the itinerary for the three cruisers with known HoBos onboard.
"At ease," Lulltrel said as she entered the conference room. "If I'm correct, we have three cruisers with HoBos, and two HoBos running loose," she said as she sat.
"Yes, ma'am," I said, as she was looking at me.
"How are you recommending we get rid of them--leaving them free isn't an option since they have a contract on you?"
"Ideally, I'd like to find the leaders then identify the HoBo on the three cruisers, then close down the contacts," I said and continued thinking I knew her next question. "I have my staff working on identifying the leaders. If we are lucky, they are working out of Eastar and have within the past forty-five days sent their contacts a new contract on me."
"How are you going to identify the individual HoBos?"
"Thought it best if we catch them in the act. We can decode their contract information so it should be easy to set up a trap. The only problem would be doing it quickly so word doesn't get back to the remaining ones."
I'd like to just investigate the Marines on each of those three cruisers. The longer they exist the longer you are in danger. However, I doubt Admiral Webb would approve it. The negative publicity and resulting morale problems would be a nightmare. And I understand why we can't ignore the ringleaders." She was quiet for several minutes. "I want everyone thinking about a solution. It's our number one priority."
* * *
I worked the rest of the day until the early hours of the morning without even finding a potential candidate. I hoped my staff had better luck, as I entered my conference room. But the looks on their faces dashed that hope.
"By the black cloud that is hanging over the room, I assume you didn't have any more luck than me," I said as I sat, and Stamm placed a cup of coffee in front of me. I held up my hand before anyone could respond. "The problem is we are all trying to force a solution and brute force seldom works."
"We are concerned, ma'am. We know there is a contract on you and the longer it takes the greater the risk of them…" Newman paused without completing the sentence.
"Killing me," I finished. "The urgency makes it more difficult to think and harder to solve. You need to concentrate on the task and forget about might or could happen if."
"Ma'am," Odom said hesitantly. When I nodded he continued. "I was doing some queries and ran across a message that purported to be updated software. The update was supposed to be in binary code…but it…it's binary but doesn't translate into any machine code I know."
"Show us," I said, excited that he may have located the message. A few seconds later the message appeared on the room monitors and on each of our tablets.
TO: SOFTWARE SOLUTIONS, LIMITED
THIS IS A REQUIRED UPDATE TO OUR SECURITY SOFTWARE. URGENT.
UPDATE ATTACHED.
FROM: UAS SECURITY PROGRAMS
And just below the message a string of three hundred ones and zeros.
10111000010111010100001010010011111001000010100001001001111100011…
"Odom, I think you found it. Congratulations. This is everyone's homework—decipher that string," I said to eager looking faces.
* * *
That night after dinner I curled up on the couch with Alexa and brought the number up on my tablet. As I did, Red wove into my hair with his head on my forehead.
"Red looks interested," Alexa said, smiling.
"He and I hope we have found a link to the HoBos' ringleader. Commander Odom says it’s not a software update, as the sender claims. It's a string of three hundred ones and zeros I'm hoping I can decipher."
"Good luck."
Three hundred produced a whole number—integer—when divided by the numbers one, two, three, four, five, and six--which meant the solution wasn't going to be obvious. The number one could be discounted, as you couldn't represent letters with only one number. The number two produced one hundred and fifty words if two digits represented a letter, which was unlikely. The number three produced one hundred, four produced one hundred twenty-five, five produced sixty, and the number six produced fifty characters. I smiled when I realized the numbers three, four, and five wouldn't be enough to represent the current alphabet, although it would be enough for old Russian and old Latin. Crossing my fingers, I counted the characters in the message:
WANTED DEAD-COMMANDER ANNA PAULUS-FIVE MILLION CREDITS
"Forty-five," I said feeling my euphoria burst. The problem with hoping for a specific outcome, I chided myself. Then I felt Red's head bang my forehead several times. Unusual, I thought. Oh, I almost banged my head but stopped in time, remembering Red was hanging there.
Spaces, dashes, and other punctuation were characters. The string had fifty characters and the first six digits formed the number twenty-three or the letter 'W.' And the second six, one, or the letter 'A.' I pulled Red out of my hair and kissed him.
"Red solved the problem?" Alexa said smiling at me.
"He did. And he does communicate with me," I said realizing it was true. "In em
ergencies he hisses when there is imminent danger and is agitated when he has the answer and I need to look harder."
"I believe you but I'd keep that a secret between you, me, and Red."
"Even Renata would wonder if I were fit for duty if I told her."
* * *
"Carl, would you see if Admiral Lulltrel is available for an update?" I asked as I entered my office area. He immediately pulled out his CDC. I had just sat with my coffee when he entered. "She's waiting," he said with a laugh. I took the hint and double-timed out of the office and used the stairs. When I arrived, a rear admiral sat scowling at me as her aide waved for me to enter. .
"Good or bad, Paulus?" she asked before I could even salute.
"We have the link to the ringleaders," I said as she visually relaxed.
"And?" she frowned when I didn't react.
"I'd like to identify the HoBos before we pursue the ringleaders."
"Pannell?" she said, looking past me. When I turned I saw Pannell standing just inside the door.
"Commander Paulus and I haven't discussed it, ma'am," he said, frowning at me.
"Senior Sergeant Phillipo, see if Admiral Webb is available."
"Paulus, I can't believe you are willing to travel anywhere except from your home to the office and back." She shook her head in disbelief.
"I trust Colonel Pannell and my security," I said, leaving out and Red, "to keep me safe."
Before anyone could comment, Philllipo spoke from the doorway. "He's available now, ma'am."
Without a word Lulltrel strode out of the office, with Pannell and me following. The ride in the elevator and the walk to Webb's office was made in silence. A lieutenant commander had the door open when we arrived. After saluting, Webb stood evaluating Lulltrel and me.
"Since you brought Paulus, am I to assume the news isn't good?" He waved us to sit.
"Commander Paulus believes she has identified the HoBos' ringleader, or at the very least, a link to them—" Lulltrel said and was interrupted.
"But," Webb said.
"She would like a cruiser to go catch the HoBos on the remaining three cruisers before we follow-up on the link."
