by Terry Mixon
“Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?”
“Try not to be more of an idiot than you have to, boy.” Her voice was different, too. Less gravelly. Fuller. Younger.
Her son slowly lowered his gun, but he didn’t put it away.
“Well, this is a surprise, Mother. You’ve found the fountain of youth. I can see you in there, now. You look younger than I do.”
“How did I get into that machine?”
He leaned against the console. “You don’t remember? The men I had guarding you said that you got into it under your own power.”
“I remember coming into the room alone, so I won’t rule it out,” she granted. “What’s happening out there?”
“Nothing as interesting as what’s going on in here. You’ve been out almost twelve hours. The terrorists are still alive and kicking, though we have thinned the herd. I think there are two or three dozen left.”
She’d have to do something about her clothes, but she had no idea what. They would have to wait.
“What about our forces? Do we still have guns?”
“Yes, but we’re short on ammo. The new weapons are almost dry, but I might be able to find some more ammo somewhere on the ship. We have regular guns and ammo from the dead Ragheads. Enough to finish the job, I think.
“But that will have to wait for a little while. We need to have someone look you over. One of my men is a medic.”
She shook her head. “What would he see? You don’t have any instruments that could look inside me. Forget it. I need something to modify my clothes. They fit like crap.”
He grinned. “That’s because frumpy clothes don’t work on hot chicks.”
“I’m your mother. Don’t be more of a pervert than you must.”
The deck under their feet shifted a little. Hardly enough to notice, but more than it had before.
Nathan stood straight abruptly. “I think we better go find out what that was. Nothing good, I’ll warrant.”
No, probably not.
* * * * *
Brenda Cabot walked down the streets of Washington DC as if she hadn’t a care in the world. No one would guess she was one of the most wanted fugitives in the country. The former FBI agent had no doubt she was number one on the most wanted list.
Her stylish hat and overly large sunglasses were more than enough to botch facial recognition programs on the numerous cameras watching over the nation’s capital, but she made certain to walk in a different manner than she usually used.
More of a sexy saunter. Since that was completely out of character for her, it would screw with any of the more esoteric movement recognition programs running on the surveillance systems. Yes, they were actually a thing.
Piazza’s, the trendy bar she breezed into, had a reputation as one of the hottest nightspots in the city, but it was early for the pretty people. The Families used the place as a means to keep an eye on what happened in the halls of power just over a dozen blocks away.
The Families had been part of an underground movement in the alien society after they’d taken primitive humans as slaves. They were as deeply buried in modern society now. They’d had a thousand years to become part of every organization that mattered, operating out of sight and with extreme subtlety.
The bartender was always one of them, so he didn’t blink when she made her way into the back with a wave. She made her way to the storage room.
A rack designed to hold wine bottles sat empty in the corner. It was old and they’d upgraded one of the rooms to control the environment better for the expensive vino they stocked for the rich and powerful.
It never drew the slightest interest during any inspections by the health inspectors. That made it the perfect place to hide a secret entrance.
She bent low and found the hidden catch. It clicked softly and the entire rack swung out, along with the wall behind it.
A newly revealed set of stairs led down into an abandoned portion of the old subway system, though not directly. There was a little walking through a dank tunnel to get to the station. That always set her into the right frame of mind for their secret lair: the Vault.
The Families had sprayed the crumbling walls with sealant to keep most of the seeping groundwater out, so the place was actually quite comfortable. The dehumidifiers and air conditioning routed in from buildings above the station helped a lot with that, too.
A massive door set in the wall of the abandoned station kept the lair secure. They’d bought it when a local bank had closed. Getting it down into the abandoned subway had been a chore, or so the older members of their group claimed.
In any case, it would keep intruders at bay long enough for the people inside the lair to escape by other routes if anyone ever discovered the place.
Two men wearing body armor and holding automatic weapons nodded to her as she walked past. They’d hold the door if trouble came knocking. Someone inside always monitored the bar to be sure no one raided the place.
Past the vault door, a wide room that looked like a CIA monitoring center awaited her. A dozen people stared at state of the art monitors and listened to hidden bugs planted throughout the city. Or, in some cases, around the world.
A tall black man in a subdued suit gestured for her to come over to the raised platform above the rest of the stations. Cyrus Patterson had once worked for the CIA in a room very similar to this one, so he’d been the perfect choice for their intelligence chief.
“Brenda, I’m glad to see you made it here safely.” He gripped her hand for a moment. “I’m so sorry you had to come out into the open like this.”
“It’s okay, Cyrus,” she said as she set her purse, hat, and sunglasses onto his desk. “This is way more important than what I was doing before.”
His smile widened. “Actually, I said that because the FBI is sweeping all their buildings and we’ve lost a number of bugs. It won’t be long before they turn their attention to other critical areas. That’s what I’m sorry about, not your loss of a social life.”
She swatted his arm. “Ass. You never change. Now that we have the quantum gate set up in the house over by the river, what is our situation like?”
“The government has gone all paranoid, which makes sense since we still have them penetrated six ways to Sunday. They’re kicking off the king of all witch-hunts. Everyone is a suspect, so everyone is keeping their heads down. It’ll take them weeks to vet the critical people. We’re safe enough for the moment.”
Cabot pulled up a chair and sat. “What about our assets? Are they likely to find anyone? Do we need to start pulling people out?”
“I think not. Just like you, we made sure they had no links back to the Families. Some of them have been in place for decades. They’re often the people doing the vetting. This has to be a nightmare for the alphabet agencies.”
“We can’t be complacent,” she said firmly. “They have smart people working hard to find us now that they know we exist. They won’t stop looking.”
“Exactly, so we’ve picked out a number of bad apples to throw their way. People we’ve been aware of for a while that have dark little secrets they’d rather keep to themselves.
“We’ve left careful and subtle clues linking them together. The counterintelligence teams will unravel quite the conspiracy when they find them. One that doesn’t lead back to us. Best of all, none of our people have to ‘discover’ them. A couple will pop in a day or so without endangering any of our folks.”
Brenda looked around the room while she considered that. A massive witch-hunt was to their advantage. It wouldn’t last forever, but it would put the opposition into disarray. Right now, time was a critical factor.
“Okay, that sounds good,” she finally said. “What are our top issues right now?”
“We’ve had someone keeping an eye on Harry Rogers since he came through our gate. He found a hidden base in France, just like you said he would. Dammit, but I wish we’d known about it. Think of all the equipment that has to be t
here.”
She shrugged. “The Families have been looking for just that kind of thing for centuries. We missed this one, but there are other bases scattered around the world, I’m sure. Rogers knew about the one in France. He’ll know about others. We can trade our assistance for one.”
He grinned. “I like the sound of that. In any case, we used our man in the French national police to be sure no word leaked about the site. No one has uttered a peep about it, so he hasn’t had to smother any awkward information. It’s still clean.”
“It makes me mad,” she admitted. “Centuries of hard work and some guy just waltzes into what should be our hidden fortress. Still, you’re right. We will manage to get on his good side. We have to gain his trust so he doesn’t poke the Asharim.”
“I might be able to help with that. There was a big national security meeting at the White House. We don’t have the full details, but one of our people picked up some of the fallout. They’re going to use the military to solidify the US claim to the Yucatan Spaceport in Mexico and fortify it.”
“That’s not a big surprise,” she said. “The US doesn’t have a space program anymore. Idiots.”
“True, but that’s going to change. They leaned hard on the Indians and ‘bought’ their Mars ship. It’s almost ready to go, so Roger’s people there can expect company in about three months.”
That wasn’t unexpected, but she’d hoped it would take longer. “What about the Chinese?”
The Indians and Chinese had been engaged in a race to Mars. The US co-opting the Indian ship would definitely gain the attention of the most powerful nation on the planet. With their powerful military, they could potentially act out in unexpected ways.
“They’re monitoring the situation. The fact that Liberty Station made it to Mars in a matter of days and that the US is now heading after them isn’t lost to their senior people. They still don’t know about the Asharim, but that won’t last forever. One of their spies will pick up something shortly.”
The Chinese would have no problem using force to take any advanced technology. They’d rightly see it as a direct threat. That could get very ugly in record time.
“We’ll need to let Rogers know,” Brenda said. “He’ll want to get weapons to Mars so they can defend themselves. Thank God there are only those two ships. Any chance we could sabotage them both?”
“I ordered my people on the ground there to assist him for the time being. As for sabotaging the ships, it’s possible we could do something to the Indian ship, but not the Chinese. It’s too well guarded.”
She sighed. “I want options on my desk as soon as possible. Too many people know about the technology for it to stay quiet much longer. If we have spies that are hearing about it, the Chinese will, too.
“Rogers and Cook will need someone to hack the gate soon. They’ll want to track down where that ship went. Do we have anyone that might be able to help?”
He considered that for a moment. “I think I know just the man. Kevin McHugh. He’s one of my guys. A real hacker.”
Brenda raised an eyebrow. “One with skills in Asharim tech?”
“He told me there had to be similar ways into those kinds of systems. He’s built up a number of tools and techniques over the last few years. He’s your guy, but he’s based out in Virginia.”
“Call him to Washington. If I’m right, he’d best pack for a long trip.”
Chapter Four
Chen made his way into the depths of the Chinese Embassy in Washington DC. A room there was proof against any external monitoring and he wanted no one to be aware of what he was about to pass on to his superiors.
Even though the guards knew him well, they were thorough in checking him for listening devices. It was always possible that someone would manage to plant a device on him, so he approved of their caution and diligence.
He left his cell phone and other electronics in a lock box on their desk. That kept them safe from either of the guards getting their hands on them. Paranoia ran both ways.
Inside, the secure room was much as depicted in various entertainment programs: high-tech gear off to one side and a large screen dominating one wall. A technician awaited his pleasure in front of the controls.
“Leave me.”
The man rose, bowed, and retreated without a word.
Chen secured the door behind him, activated the jamming technology built into the walls, and disabled all the recording devices. He manipulated the controls and opened a channel to Beijing.
The man who appeared on the screen was of lower social rank than Chen but that didn’t stop him from virtually sneering. “Imperial Palace. How may I assist you, Ambassador?”
“I must speak with the president’s secretary. The matter is urgent.”
The other man made a show of checking his watch. “She has most likely been asleep only a few hours. It would be best to call her back at a more reasonable hour.”
“It is not your place to question my judgment. Wake her.”
The man’s expression subtly indicated he thought Chen was making a mistake, but the screen blanked.
Fifteen minutes later, the screen once more cleared and Chen saw the president’s secretary. She’d obviously risen hastily and looked somewhat peeved.
“Ambassador Chen,” she said coolly. “The hour is early.”
“Are you alone in the secure room?”
She glanced to the side. “No. The technicians are here.”
“Send them away.”
Her eyebrows rose. “They have the highest clearance.”
He said nothing.
She searched his face for a moment before nodding. “Everyone, leave me.”
The man Chen had spoken with earlier shot a disgruntled look at him as he crossed behind the president’s secretary. A second man kept his face blank as he followed him.
The woman watched them until they were gone and then turned to face Chen. “I am alone.”
“Be certain that no recording device is activated.”
“I have already done so. Proceed.”
“This is a matter for the Dragon, not the president.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You are not supposed to contact us through official government channels. This is dangerous.”
He nodded. “The information is too critical to use my normal courier. Only this heavily encrypted line will do. The United States government has come into the possession of Asharim technology.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“I am. One of our sleeper agents has seen it with his own eyes. A second source independently intercepted a message about the acquisition. There is no doubt.”
“Forgive my misgivings, but this could be a trick of some kind.”
He shook his head. “The technology was a flechette pistol of the standard design. Our man saw a video of it blowing a chunk of concrete the size of my head out of a wall.
“The Americans confiscated it from Kathleen Bennett and it is merely the smallest of a sizable cache of similar equipment. The largest appears to be an Asharim cargo lifter in questionable condition, but also recognizable. There is no mistake.”
The woman considered him for a long moment before nodding. “I will see that the Dragon is made aware of these developments in the morning. It would be too conspicuous for me to contact him any sooner. Watch for a special courier in the next day.”
She wasn’t genetically one of the Dragon’s members—it only took one look at her petite frame to realize that—but she was still one of their leaders. The Dragon needed people of non-heavy-worlder extraction in many areas of their work, so some families had been with them for many hundreds of years.
“I will have as detailed a report as possible ready at that time,” he said. “My people are still gathering data. One complication is that it will not be long before spies outside our control become aware of these developments.”
Her expression darkened. “That is unfortunate. Can we seize the trove?”
Chen shrugged. “Possibly, but I would not count on it. The Americans are moving it to a secure facility under extremely heavy military guard. While they are not as strong as they once were, they can defend themselves here in their home quite well.”
“Pity. I will need a story to tell the president when she wakes. Someone will report your call.”
“That will be no challenge. The Americans have sent military forces to secure the Yucatan Spaceport and cajoled the Indians into selling them their Mars craft for a significant—perhaps even ruinous—premium.
“The US seems suddenly desperate to get to the Red Planet. That tells me that there must be more technology on Mars.”
“That is troubling, but not really a surprise. The rebels were scattered all across this system when we suppressed them. I do not recall specific mention of anything on Mars, but it would shock me if there were not.
“The Chinese vessel incorporates more powerful engines than the Indian ship, but it is less powerful than the fusion drive Rogers employed. It will take us months to get to Mars and the forces we can send will be small. His mobile station is far larger than our ship, so he will outnumber us.”
“True, but we can send crack military forces with heavy weapons. Roger’s ship is unarmed. He could not smuggle anything serious through the Yucatan Spaceport.”
“Such as a stolen fusion reactor?”
Rogers had powered his Mars ship with a prototype fusion reactor stolen from his ex-wife. That briefly made him wonder if Kathleen Bennett had used Asharim technology to build it. No matter. They’d find out soon enough.
He inclined his head to grant her the point. “We can stop the Indian ship. Rather, the American ship, I suppose. We have weapons in orbit capable of destroying the thing. That will generate unfortunate consequences here on Earth, however. In the end, that decision is not mine to make.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up. “No, I suppose it isn’t. You have done well, Ambassador. The courier will have further instructions for you soon. Good night.”
