The Faceless Stratagem (Tombs Book 2)

by Robert Scott-Norton

  “Then you’re to share with them. They’re in the best position. They have TALOS at their disposal.”

  Linwood felt her face flush and cursed under her breath. She hated being so transparent but reporting into a woman who was still at university when Linwood was fighting off alien incursions riled her. “Toby, Department 5 wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the sacrifices me and my team made.”

  He was surprised at the use of his first name but he wasn’t easily manipulated.

  Kingston’s tone became conciliatory. “Time has moved on. We have the best team in place under Jacqueline. I need you to give her your full support. You know what Thadeus was like. You know what Irulal was like. You can help her.”

  “And that’s what you want me to be? An adviser?”

  He bristled. His hands clenched and unclenched like he was massaging an invisible stress ball. “Department 5 needs continuity of leadership. We’re in the middle of a crisis and they need a leader they know and who in turn knows them. You had a good team once with MI18 but you’ve got to put that behind you. Your team is all gone. MI18 doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “Give me some people then. We can work alongside Department 5. There’s equipment at the Tombs that can help.”

  He shook his head. “Absolutely not. We’re not splitting our resources like this. And as for access to the Tombs facility... It’s out of bounds. If you need to go down there, you will have to clear it with Jaq.”

  Linwood felt the courtyard closing in around her. The towering walls pressed on her, cutting out the sky. “I can help. Let me run the operation. Jaq can work alongside me—”

  He raised a hand and cut her off mid-speech. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “But I’ve got experience with Irulal. I know how she thinks.”

  “If that was the case, I don’t think we’d be in this mess now,” he said.

  9

  6th May 2013

  The headache was threatening to blow up into something magnificent and Winborn was damned well not going to let that put him behind schedule. Already this morning, he’d taken three calls from the directors asking for progress updates. He’d done his best to appease them but they were getting anxious and that made Winborn worry. He guessed that was the source of his headache. It wasn’t as if he could make any of this happen any faster, and after this morning’s incident at Jodrell Bank, it was a miracle that his staff had turned up to work their shifts as it was.

  He got out of his Jaguar and fetched his jacket from the back seat, looking around him at the high walls of the TALOS Institute. It had taken over his career—no his entire life. The place was as good as home. He worked here, ate here, and had an apartment in a section they’d fitted out for visitors.

  The incident at Jodrell Bank had left him unsettled. The directors told him it was of the utmost importance to work closely with Jacqueline Petro and aid Department 5 at every opportunity. But, this didn’t extend to revealing what today’s delivery meant and why it would go straight down to lower level two.

  It was a little after ten a.m. and the delivery van was already nestled by the loading bay doors. The back of the van was closed, sealed by his order and wouldn’t be opened until he arrived in person to unseal it.

  Wade Navarro looked up from his tablet at the loading bay door as Winborn approached.

  “Sir,” Wade said.

  “How’s it going?” Winborn asked, staring the man straight in the eye. “Any trouble?”

  Wade straightened and brought his tablet in front of him. “No. The clean-up crew didn’t report any problems. The cargo is secure in the back.”

  “And how are the clean-up crew?”

  “They’re in quarantine.”

  “We can’t take any chances.”

  “Do you mind my asking what it is?” Wade asked.

  Winborn frowned.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I was just—” Wade paled.

  “Curious. Yes, of course you are. It’s only understandable. And I promise you that as soon as the cargo is secure and that I am assured our facilities are suitable to contain it, you’ll be the first to have access.” Winborn smiled. Wade may be good, but he was far from the best that TALOS offered.

  “How do you want to proceed?”

  “We need to get this open,” Winborn gestured at the back door of the truck. “I want the area clearing. You can stay, but when the back of the truck is open, I want no one crossing the threshold but me. Do you understand?”

  Wade nodded, his eyes sharp black coal. “Absolutely.”

  Wade turned to the other men scattered around the loading bay. All of them seemed to be busy but Winborn suspected they were only here because they were deeply curious about the contents of the truck. Wade gave the instruction to clear the loading bay and within seconds, the men had left through the doors at the back. Wade waved his security pass at the black sensor plate and tapped in an override code. The light above the doors turned from a welcoming green to a deep red.

  Now, just Wade and Winborn remained in the loading bay and Wade took out a key from his jacket pocket. With it, he unlocked the padlock on the truck’s tailgate, then put the lock to one side, grabbed the handles on the sliding door and hauled it up. It clattered into the roof space.

  Together, they peered into the depths of the truck. Winborn could make out a low white chest, about two metres long, one metre across and one high. Wade lifted his foot to step into the back of the truck, then remembered what he’d been instructed and brought it back to stand on the tailgate, looking down at the floor, feeling admonished by the look Winborn was giving him. “Sorry, sir. Almost got carried away then.”

  That was fine. It wasn’t a problem.

  Winborn patted the man on the arm and told him to get back into the loading bay and to only come up should he request it. Wade did as he was told and Winborn watched him retreat before returning to the chest.

  He considered the chest. The men who’d collected the contents had done so with full biohazard procedures in place and Winborn suddenly felt very vulnerable. He’d been assured that there was no need to wear biohazard suits now. The chest was secure. It met the specifications the directors had sent through. There was no need to be concerned.

  All the same, though, Winborn was worried. If this was so important to the directors, why hadn’t they shown up today when they could have offered their advice in person?

  The truth of the matter was that the directors would never just show up. Winborn opened this facility and helped to establish its remit and operational strategy. The directors, so far as he could tell, operated at a higher level than that. Never once setting foot on the premises. All his communication with them was over the telephone or email. Hell, he’d never even had a video conference with them.

  Winborn walked up to the chest and gingerly placed his hand on the surface. A custom-made unit, powered by three independent supplies and built-in redundancy. This was the most secure unit they could create and now it was sealed it would take his hand print to release the locks.

  A small window had been built into the top of the unit, and Winborn bent to peer through the glass.

  “Is everything OK with it, sir?” Wade asked from the back of the van.

  Breakthroughs from this could mean cancelling over half of the projects bring run at TALOS. There just wouldn’t be a need for them.

  “Everything’s fine. We will have to get moving. Is lower level two ready?”

  “Almost. I’ve got a team carrying out a last-minute inspection but we should be good to move the storage unit there within the hour.”

  “Tell them to hurry. I don’t want this sitting here any longer than it has to.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wade said, hurrying out of the loading bay.

  Winborn gently patted the containment unit then moved to the loading ramp, pulled and locked up the back of the van. He hopped off the ramp to be met by Jacqueline Petro.

  She looked tired, her hair pulled back in a tig
ht bun, and her eyes had lost their usual shine.

  “I guess you got about as much sleep as I did,” Winborn said.

  “I think they’re cancelled sleep for the likes of us,” she replied, her tone amused. “Is that your new delivery?”

  “The same.”

  “Care to tell me what it is yet?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Not yet,” he replied. “Shall we take a walk?” The air was carrying a light breeze and he could smell the pollen from the rye crops in the adjoining fields along the eastern perimeter of the TALOS Institute. Usually, the pollen brought on his hay-fever but he wasn’t getting any hint of the general irritation today. Apart from that niggling headache, he felt fine.

  As they walked around the perimeter of the building, Jaq spoke. “I want to bring more of my agents here.”

  Winborn inwardly groaned. Jaq had been working on him about this point for the best part of six months. The agreement that Department 5 and TALOS had in place was mutually beneficial, allowing Department 5 to concentrate its resources on expanding its field agents whilst getting access to the best brains and resources in the world at TALOS. As for what TALOS got out of the arrangement; well, the government funding to the TALOS Institute was appreciated but not strictly necessary. They could continue to function quite happily for some time with no additional funding—the directors would continue to make sure of that.

  No, what TALOS got was access. And a level of prestige and trust that was difficult to buy.

  But Winborn could understand why Jaq was pushing this point again now. It was no coincidence her arriving within an hour of his special delivery. He’d kept the details of when the delivery was happening on a need to know basis, and yet here she was. He had a leak on his team. Well, he’d always suspected that Department 5 would have someone in their pocket.

  Whilst access and prestige were part of the deal, trust was not.

  A sharp pain at the back of his head made him stop walking and grab onto his scalp.

  “Woah, are you OK?” Jaq asked.

  “Fine, just need a minute.”

  He opened his eyes and saw her concerned face staring back at him. She’d put a hand on his shoulder but quickly withdrew it, looking embarrassed.

  “It’s just a headache,” he said.

  “You’ve been busy. We’ve both been working flat out on the incident—it’s understandable.”

  The pain passed, and he shook his head lightly. “It’s no excuse. We don’t get opportunities like this often. We need to be prepared to take full advantage of them. Failure is not an option.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded slightly in agreement. “I know what you mean, but perhaps you could let me get more involved. I could have a new team here within two hours. Brief me on what you’re working on with your new project and share the burden.”

  “Impossible. We already have enough of Department 5 here. My team will soon be overrun.”

  “I have a dozen people here, Trenton. That’s hardly being overrun.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Ms Petro. You have the access to our facilities that we’ve agreed.”

  “In light of the Incident, it’s surely time to re-evaluate that agreement.”

  This was so much like the woman, using the greatest scientific event to ever happen on British soil as an excuse to bring in more spies.

  “If you’re talking about a renegotiation, you must instigate that through your Director General.”

  “I know, but I thought—”

  “That you could speed things up.”

  “Exactly.”

  “No. It’s not the time to make rash decisions. TALOS is preoccupied enough without trying to circumvent the formal process.”

  “I see,” she said.

  “Right. Then I think we understand each other.” He made a show of checking his watch for the time, then continued. “If there’s nothing else, I’ve really got to get back to work.”

  She nodded and forced a smile. “Absolutely, Trenton. I’ll see you later.” And then Winborn headed for Building 1 where his office was located. He kept a decent stash of self-medication in there and would have something to get rid of this pain in his head. He thought he’d done a reasonable job of convincing Jaq it was a minor ailment but if truth be told, it still felt like knives were burying themselves under his skin. It took all his mental effort to not grip his head and run for the sanctity of his office.

  10

  6th May 2013

  It would be all too easy to just grab the stuff from her drawer, head back to her flat and write up her resignation notice. In fact, she wouldn’t need to even do that; her resignation letter was still on her computer. She’d written it years ago and had been meaning to send it on a regular basis ever since. There was always something, however, that made her stop. One last thing that needed doing before she could allow herself the luxury of putting it all behind her.

  Today was another one of those days.

  Despite the harsh words from Kingston, and the shoddy way she’d been treated at the debrief session, she wasn’t prepared to risk any more civilians dying on the basis of her pride being hurt.

  There was still one loose end, at least one, probably more, that needed her attention. She could tell Kingston what she needed. There was every chance he might even make it happen if she caught him in a good mood. But, she wasn’t prepared to risk him saying no, and that was a real possibility with the way he’d been on her case.

  Back at her desk, she logged into her computer and got to work. The surrounding office was busy. It would be like this for the foreseeable future as the agencies tried to get on top of what had happened. The fallout hadn’t even landed yet. When it did, heads would roll. The public needed scapegoats and security services were always in the firing line. Not able to defend themselves by explaining how many incidents they’ve protected the public from, the focus was always on what went wrong. How come they didn’t protect us on this one particular occasion?

  She opened a console environment and created a new project. This would take a few hours to get right and she would have to rely on existing solutions as much as possible. She didn’t have time for this to be pretty or even efficient. It just needed to do its job and sit there undetected.

  People noticed her. Her name had been attached to the Jodrell Bank Incident and colleagues she rarely spoke to, wandered over from time to time, checking if she wanted a tea or anything from the cafe. Despite her stomach rumbling, Linwood declined every offer and dismissed nosey colleagues as efficiently as possible. The interest in her would wane quickly—she didn’t have her ice queen status without merit.

  Five hours passed and gradually the stations around her quietened as her neighbours drifted home. Most of them had relationships to get back to, family and friends they wanted to check in with. It would test their integrity to the limit to not share what they knew with their nearest and dearest. But, what they knew was limited. The briefing Linwood had endured earlier was a sealed affair. Heads of department were under orders to only share the absolute minimum with their teams and only when it was operationally necessary. The bulk of the heavy lifting on the aftermath of this event was being picked up by Department 5 under Jaq Petro. Other services would be drafted in on an ‘as needs’ basis and that only made the speculation spread like wildfire.

  Because none of this was normal.

  Linwood, with her work at MI18, had known about the existence of extra-terrestrials since the late 1970s. She’d encountered her first alien life form in 1979 and been almost killed by the experience. MI18 had a much broader operational scope back then, and obviously, the lack of social media made it far easier to keep things out of the public domain. Secrets could be secrets. Now, one picture could spread across the world in seconds and once it was out there, there was little the security services could do.

  She missed the old days.

  Once the office was nearly empty, Linwood found a pen drive and plugged it int
o her terminal, overriding the security protocol that should have prevented her from doing so. Transferring the files took seconds, and she unplugged the device and double-checked that she hadn’t been observed. Officially, there was no monitoring CCTV inside the offices. This was a private working space, closed to members of the public. It was possible though that cameras in here were monitoring her movements.

  She dug into her bag and pulled out her work phone. It had been heavily modified by Department 5 technicians and later, by her own hand. Technology was packed into the device but to anyone unfamiliar with the work, it looked like a regular smartphone.

  Linwood put her finger to the unlocking sensor, then swiped another digit along the edge of the device where a hidden biometric sensor analysed skin samples for a DNA match. Without this double-unlocking, the phone’s hidden features remained hidden.

  She was welcomed by a menu system that she adroitly navigated, finding the blanket blocking software in seconds and activating it. Anyone observing her on any monitoring device would now be watching static. To a smart security technician, it would serve as a red flag, but she hoped that wouldn’t be important today. She just wanted to slip out of the office with no one noticing. Twenty minutes was all it would take.

  Her heart beating a little faster now, she headed across to the lifts. There was no one to notice her press the call button. The lift arrived in seconds, empty. She got in then pressed the button for the fifth floor.

  She prayed that no one would be there and for once her prayers were answered. The lift opened out into a lobby. There was an unmanned reception desk opposite the doors. That was unusual but with the current high alert, resources were being redeployed to where they could have the most effect. This technical section was unlikely to be considered high priority today. People were needed elsewhere, plus, it was late.

  Looking around, she slipped her phone from her pocket and held it against the security pad by a secured door behind the desk. If someone caught her in here, she’d have a lot of explaining to do, but she’d considered the possible repercussions and knew it was a chance worth taking.