Natural Born : Book Three: Annihilation Series: A Political Technothriller Series

by John Hindmarsh

  “Whoah. You little bitch. Drop that before I drop you.”

  Elena stepped towards him. He stepped back, cautious. Elena had never turned on him before.

  “I’m not your bitch. Now drop my key and get yourself out of here. Yesha, call 911 for me, tell them I’m under attack.”

  Wayne swore and aimed a sweeping kick at the care bot. It missed and he staggered, partly off-balance. Elena moved further into the living room still brandishing the knife.

  “Didn’t you hear me? Drop my key, there, and get out of here.”

  “Oh, sweetest, let’s talk this through. You know you want me.” Wayne smiled.

  Elena recognized the danger—Wayne had used that approach before and it usually ended with him knocking her unconscious. She was not interested. She felt liberated.

  She said, “You are a stupid bastard. That won’t work on me. I know better, now. Get out of my home.”

  He snarled. “Got yourself a replacement lover, huh? I suppose it’s one of these tin cans that you love so much.” He picked up the small wooden table and threw it at Yesha. It hit her shoulder and broke into pieces. The care bot was unharmed.

  Yesha said, “I’ve called 911. They said there’s a patrol car nearby and police will be here in minutes.”

  Wayne swore again. He picked up a heavy ceramic lamp and threw it at Yesha and at the same time lunged towards Elena. “I’ll get you, bitch—”

  His voice cut off. Elena screamed. The carving knife was embedded in Wayne’s throat. It had cut through his external carotid artery as he tripped on the lamp cord and his momentum had driven the point of the knife into his spine. He gurgled, blood sprayed, and he fell to the ground, lifeless.

  There was a police siren in the distance, growing closer.

  Yesha said, “Get me a towel that I can hold against Wayne’s throat. I can’t do anything to save him, though; the point of the knife has gone too deep.”

  Elena fell to her knees, unable to react to the care bot’s instruction. She was hyperventilating. Her hands were numb; she felt blackness closing in.

  The police siren stopped.

  Yesha looked at Wayne and then at Elena. Her sympathies were with her friend. She ignored the body and attended Elena. Unconscious, her breathing had returned to normal. Yesha made her comfortable, with a pillow under her head. Her ministrations were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  She left Elena and opened the door. There were two policemen on the small porch. She said, “There’s been an accident. Wayne McDonald, who was under a restraining order, illegally entered and attacked Elena. She attempted to defend herself and her assailant stumbled onto her knife. I have a video I can transfer, if you wish?”

  The first policeman entered and he said, “What a mess.” He covered his mouth with his handkerchief. “Blood’s everywhere.”

  His companion, a police bot, replied to Yesha, “Yes, please transfer the file.” After a moment he added, “Good. It’s a clear self-defense action.” Louder, he said to his companion, “Harry, I’ve got a video file. Definitely self-defense. There’s an ambulance on its way. I’ll arrange a clean-up team.”

  The human officer was kneeling beside Elena, checking her condition. She sensed his presence and opened her eyes. “Oh, God. He—he was attacking me—”

  “Shh. Take it easy. My buddy has a video file from your care bot. He agrees it was self-defense. We’ve all kinds of reports to prepare.” He turned to Yesha and said, “Care bot?”

  “My name is Yesha, officer.”

  “Yesha, can you take this young lady to another room? We need to process this one as a crime scene even though it is clearly self-defense.”

  “Yes, sir. Elena, come with me. Your mother will soon wake from her nap and we should be with her.”

  Yesha led Elena to her mother’s bedroom.

  The police officers waited for their crime scene team and the ambulance.

  Junior detected the incoming report. Bots were now instructed to report all attacks, and this was one of many that he routinely checked.

  “Darwin?”

  “Yes?”

  “The care bot, Yesha.”

  “Yes?”

  “She has transferred a file to the help desk. It’s a video. The man who damaged her is dead. He attacked his ex-girlfriend and, in the fight, ended up with his throat cut and spinal column severed. No one else was hurt.”

  “Thanks.” He reviewed the video image. “Humans. Sometimes they’re nice, other times they’re impossible to understand. I’ll let Henderson and Victoria know.”

  “That shot your opportunity to experience the court room processes.”

  “Yes. Having watched this video though, I’m sure there will be more.”

  oOo

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Toby and Billie were back at the Bel Air house after returning from their trip to Washington. They were trying to relax. Darwin sealed the end to that exercise in futility when he said, “Toby, we’ve detected something odd. Also, Colonel Coleman wants to speak to you.”

  “Let’s deal with odd, first. What is it?”

  “I think there are two jet aircraft, possible fighters, heading towards Pepper Mountain. They originated from a small Air Force base in Nevada.”

  “What’s their ETA?”

  “About twenty minutes. I’ll refine that as they close in.”

  “Get some drones ready. Ten should do it. And as many swarms as you can. Make sure they’re outside and ready to launch. While they’re all slower than the jets, we should be able to defend the mountain.”

  “We have some military bots armed with automatic weapons. They’re new prototypes and this is an opportunity to test them in a live environment.”

  “If you think they’ll help, go ahead. How many do you have?”

  “Fifty.”

  “Okay. We’re heading to my study. Display radar and satellite images on the virtual wall. Also, connect me to Coleman.”

  “Toby, this is Ty. Where are you?”

  “Los Angeles.”

  “That’s a relief. You have about fifteen minutes before two fighters reach Pepper Mountain. As far as I can tell, they’re armed with missiles. How secure are your facilities?”

  “Darwin, is the mountain missile proof?”

  “It’s never been tested. Bronwyn and I assessed the probability at eighty percent.”

  “Ty, you heard?”

  “Yes. We have one of our satellites directly overhead.”

  “I know. We’re copying the images. We got radar from somewhere, too. Plus video from our own cameras. I need to consult with my support. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

  Toby looked at the displays for a minute. “Darwin, do you have any other weapons there?”

  “No.”

  “What about hacking into the computers in the fighters?”

  “I’ll get Junior working on that. Bronwyn and I will handle the swarms and drones.”

  “Do you have more drones you can use?”

  “I added five more. We’ve loaded each drone with swarms; the explosive kind. We plan to launch the swarms while the drones are in flight. We’ve another ten swarms of a thousand each, ready to launch from the mountain top.”

  “It’ll all help. Show me what’s happening.”

  He stood in front of the virtual windows, absorbing the images. Billie stood beside him and he could feel her apprehension. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll bounce these guys so hard they won’t know what hit them.”

  When he finished his image review, he said, “Darwin, Bronwyn, launch when you’re ready. You can calculate courses and interceptions much faster than I can.”

  “Got it,” said Darwin. “Junior has worked out how to interfere with the flight controls on the fighters. Our main problem will be if they manage to fire missiles. We’ve confirmed each fighter is carrying one.”

  The drones had lifted off and had taken up positions between the two jets and the top of Pepper Mou
ntain. They were spread out in four rows half a mile apart and each drone was a half mile from the other in the rows. The array formed a sparse, skeletal structure that would be filled in once they launched the swarms. Darwin told Toby he assumed the jets would not detect the small aerial drones with their tiny burdens until it was too late for avoidance maneuvers.

  Junior said, “I’ve gained control of the lead fighter. I’m disrupting his radar and infrared detection gear. Now, also into the second fighter. They’re on visual only.”

  “Bronwyn, can you relay their communications?”

  “Yes. Streaming now.”

  “Dog One, I’ve lost radar.”

  “Dog Two, I’m on visual only.”

  “Same here.”

  “Two miles out. Get ready to launch.”

  “Launch One.”

  “Launch Two.”

  The missiles flew ahead of the two fighters. When the missiles were half a mile from Pepper Mountain they stopped in mid-flight; it was as though they had hit a solid wall. Both weapons exploded in blinding flashes and rained burning debris on to the side of the mountain.

  “Dog One, what the hell happened?”

  “No idea. Neither missile reached the mountain. Shit, I just hit something. Hundreds of birds. No, they’re tiny missiles—”

  “Same here. What the f—”

  Both radio systems cut out. Toby watched the display from the satellite. Neither pilot, as far as he could determine, was able to control his aircraft.

  Junior said, “I’ve jammed their radios and taken control of their flight controls. The jets are locked into a wide turn and losing height; they’ll probably crash miles away.”

  “The pilots will bail out,” suggested Darwin.

  Aerial said, “Yes, there they go. That’s a desolate part of the range. Not much water there and almost completely inaccessible on foot. No roads. They’ll need to be rescued by chopper.”

  “Not by me,” growled Billie. “They can rot out there as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Darwin, connect me to Coleman, please.”

  “Coleman.”

  “Toby here, Colonel.”

  “Well, I don’t know what you used, but it was effective. I’ve contacted the base where those two fighters came from. The commander denies all knowledge. Hold on while I point out some facts of life to him. He’ll need help to rescue his pilots.”

  Coleman kept the line open while he spoke to the base commander.

  “Your pilots ejected after they fired their missiles—there was damage to both aircraft. I have it all recorded. Copies of my files are on the way to the Pentagon as we speak. I suggest you better have a darned good story ready.”

  “Listen, Colonel whatever your name is—stay out of my business.”

  “Do you want to know where your pilots landed? Both chutes deployed okay. There’s not much water—they’ll last maybe two days, three at the most. There’s a change of weather due, which could bring snow. In that case they’ll suffer from hypothermia if they’re not rescued. Their location’s remote—it’ll be a chopper rescue.”

  “Fuck you and yours, Colonel. I don’t know who authorized this little jaunt, but I’m going to find out. Those two might get rescued in one piece. I promise, they’ll never fly again.”

  “Good. That attitude might just save you. But trust me; your story needs to be more than good. They fired two missiles—live missiles—at a target here in this country. They lost two fighters. Plus of course, there’ll be the cost of their rescues. Talking of which, do you want to know the locations?”

  “Of course. If you’d be so kind—” The sarcasm was heavy.

  “Hold on.” Coleman returned to the call with Toby. “Do you have anything to help these guys? Yes, I know they just tried to blast your mountain operation. However, I’d prefer to be able to publicize that you helped in their survival.”

  “Understood. Hold for a moment.” Toby turned and looked at Billie. “He’s right, you know. Pepper Mountain is unharmed. These pilots are in over their heads. We can get some major leverage out of this.”

  “I—all right. I’m so angry with them, with the brownshirts, with Flocke.”

  “I think your assessment is correct. It has Flocke’s fingerprints all over. Darwin, can you send a drone to each pilot’s location and drop them some supplies?”

  “Yes. I’ll arrange that. I’ll have a drone out to them within the hour. I do agree with Billie, though.”

  “Understood. We’ll get payback, I’m confident. You could be a hero, helping to rescue crashed pilots.”

  Darwin didn’t respond.

  Toby said, “Coleman?”

  “Yes, Toby?”

  “We’ll have a drone out to each of them within the hour. Some food, perhaps something to shelter them, and flares so they can signal when the rescue chopper comes looking for them.”

  “Excellent. Hold on.” The colonel reverted to his call with the commander. “You’re still there? Good. The people who your pilots attempted to attack and destroy are going to drop some food, flares, and something for shelter. You should be truly grateful, because their first reaction was to complete the job.”

  “You mean these people—whoever they are—downed two of my fighters? And they defeated two Sunburst missiles? Who the fuck are they?”

  “American citizens.”

  “Shit. What were my guys thinking?”

  “I cannot imagine. Let me know when your rescue chopper heads out and I’ll coordinate communications with them, so the pilot gets to the right location. It’s about four hundred miles from your base.”

  “Will do.” The commander had dropped his belligerence.

  “If your rescue crew have any inclination to repeat this attack, I can assure you, there will be no survivors. None. At. All. Understand?”

  “Message received. I have to go. I have two senior agents at my door; one is OSI and the other is FBI. I don’t know who you communicated with, but they reacted. This is the worst day—”

  “Don’t forget to contact me when the rescue chopper heads out.”

  “Sure. If I’m still in command.”

  oOo

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Air Force base commander contacted Colonel Coleman the following morning; the colonel linked Toby into the call. He apologized for the early hour; it was six a.m.

  “This is Toby McIntosh,” Coleman introduced the two men. “He’s the owner of the Euler Organization. I’m sure if you look out your window you’ll see one or two Euler bots working on your base. Toby, this is Edwin Taggerty.”

  “Hi, Edwin.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. McIntosh.”

  Coleman said, “I understand you have two choppers preparing for their rescue flight?”

  “Yes, Colonel. They’re scheduled to depart in fifteen minutes. We’re dispatching two SAR configured Sikorsky 97s. Met says they’ll have a tail wind on the way out. ETA is approximately eight hundred hours. We’ll update as we go.”

  “Toby, do you have locations?”

  “I’ll hand over to Darwin. He has everything you need. He’s using two of our drones to monitor your pilots. One has a broken arm. The other appears to be uninjured. They survived the night. There’s a cold change headed in as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “Yes, sir. May I ask who Darwin is?”

  “He works for me. He’ll be able to communicate with the chopper pilots throughout the flight and can guide them to each of your pilots. I’ll hand over to him now. Darwin?”

  “Yes, Toby?”

  “Talk to the commander. He’ll probably link you through to the SAR coordinator.”

  “Yes, sir. Commander, I’ll take over the call.”

  “Ah—good. Darwin—there’s something familiar about your name?”

  “You may have seen me on television.”

  There was a long silence before the base commander finally found his voice. “I really am dealing with the Euler Organization? We have
hundreds, probably close to two thousand Euler bots on base. They stopped work yesterday to hold a protest meeting when they heard what my pilots attempted. The longest twenty minutes of my life ranked after my meeting with the investigators.”

  Darwin said, “I was informed. I suggested they take care and return to work. I suspect if in future one of your pilots attempts an unauthorized flight carrying a live missile, he won’t reach the runway.”

  Coleman said, “I was advised of that. You won’t be surprised to hear that stopwork meetings were held on every Air Force base across the country.”

  Toby said, “We don’t like being attacked. Edwin, Darwin’s now your contact. Ty, I’ll probably talk to you later.”

  “Sure, Toby.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McIntosh. Darwin, I’ll get the chopper pilots online and we can work out how to do this.”

  Toby disconnected. He tried to imagine the havoc caused by the stopwork meetings across the country and failed. Fortunately, they had lasted only twenty minutes—an advantage of AI communication speeds. The bots had voted and there had been no exceptions or objections. They were horrified to hear of the attack and had undertaken to protect him, Billie, Darwin, Bronwyn, and the Euler Organization.

  Billie had been listening to the call. “The base commander didn’t sound anywhere near as rambunctious as yesterday.”

  “Coleman told me Taggerty is likely to be court-martialed. The pilots were under his control. Procedures failed. I’m sure they won’t fail again; our bots will ensure that. I wouldn’t like to be the two pilots. Apparently, the FBI are treating the incident as an act of terrorism. Flocke will find it difficult to avoid arrest. At least, I hope so.”

  “Me, too.” Billie smiled. “You coming back to bed?”

  “I could be persuaded.”

  “Consider yourself persuaded.”

  Colonel Ty Coleman was tempted to run his finger along the inside of his collar. The uniform, for once, felt restricting. It was psychological, an imagined feeling brought about by his presence in the Pentagon. Well, not so much the Pentagon itself—he’d been here numerous times and even had an office somewhere in the depths. No, rather it was more the company he was keeping. He looked around the room. Seated at the long meeting table, in addition to himself, were four very senior people whom he recognized, a man who he didn’t know, with two empty chairs indicating more might attend. He knew Admiral Ralph Denbigh, the Secretary of Defense (SecDef), Dr. Alex Bunsen, the President’s National Security Adviser, Elizabeth Earnshaw, the Director of the FBI, and Helen Mancini, the Secretary of the Air Force (SECAF). He thought Mancini was probably destined for a major grilling, although that was unlikely to happen while he, a lowly colonel, was present.