“You aren’t cleared for that information, Agent Kennedy. Is the Commander-in-Chief asking?”
The President took the phone again. “Yes, I’m asking.”
“Respectfully, sir, you, also, are not cleared for that information. However, given the circumstances and in the absence of a visible chain of command to direct me, I’m going to break with protocol.
“Mr. President, I can tell you that General Cushing kept many specifics of the mission from her team, although, by observation and extrapolation, we did deduce pieces of it. Her initial objective was to acquire an emerging nanotechnology from a Dr. Daniel Bickel, an employee of Sandia National Labs. General Cushing said that the technology was critical to national security. For that reason, we have been operating under a covert NSA cover.
“According to General Cushing, Dr. Bickel refused to cooperate with her and became hostile to the government and its national security interests. While she was still exerting pressure on him, Dr. Bickel blew up his own laboratory, killing his supervisor. Dr. Bickel, however, escaped, taking the nanotechnology with him. At that point, we began to hunt Dr. Bickel. Our objective was to capture him and the tech.
“Sir, we succeeded in capturing Dr. Bickel last September. I believe General Cushing moved Dr. Bickel to a facility on the White Sands Missile Base. I never saw the facility myself. We were not read in on this part of the operation.”
“Who held Dr. Bickel, then?”
“General Cushing compartmentalized that information, sir. It is my belief that she used off-book contractors to maintain the facility and guard Dr. Bickel.”
“Off-book contractors? You mean mercenaries?”
“I believe so, sir; however, as Cushing refused to brief us further, that is entirely my perception.”
“Understood. Please continue.”
“Sir, after Dr. Bickel’s capture, our operation parameters changed. Dr. Bickel had acquired an accomplice, a young woman by the name of Gemma Keyes. Miss Keyes was present when we took Dr. Bickel into custody. Unfortunately, she eluded capture and escaped with the nanotechnology. We have pursued Miss Keyes since September and have come close to apprehending her three times, but she escaped each time.”
“I’m aware of Dr. Bickel’s incarceration, Agent Trujillo, and his recent escape. I am also familiar with this woman, Gemma Keyes.”
“Well, sir, I have something of a predicament on my hands.”
“Oh?”
“Just this morning, Gemma Keyes picked up an online shipment from a local UPS store. We intercepted that shipment in transit and attached geolocators to it. General Cushing instructed me that, once I received notification of the package having been picked up, I was to activate and track the geolocators and assemble a tactical team to apprehend Keyes.”
The President’s sharp intake of breath astonished Trujillo—but not as much as his next words. “I order you to stand down, Agent Trujillo. You are not to activate the geolocators; you are to cease all surveillance and pursuit of Miss Keyes. If any circumstances come to light wherein Miss Keyes is in danger, you are to protect her and her freedom of movement. Am I understood?”
Trujillo swallowed her amazement. “Yes, sir. I will not activate the geolocators. I will cease all surveillance and pursuit of Miss Keyes. If we ascertain that she is in danger, we will protect her and her freedom of movement.”
“Very good. Now, what can you tell me about General Cushing’s behavior just prior to her disappearance?”
“Her behavior, sir?” Trujillo held her breath. She wanted, in the worst way, to convey her misgivings to someone over her, someone with the authority to take appropriate action—but she would never presume to dump such a load on the President.
So, his next statement floored her more than his order to halt the hunt for Gemma Keyes had.
“Agent Trujillo, let me be frank with you: I believe General Cushing to be a traitor to this nation, guilty of sedition and murder, among other crimes. She has not acted alone, nor do we believe we have identified all the players in this conspiracy as of yet. Tell me, Agent Trujillo, are you a traitor?”
“No! No, sir!” Trujillo almost choked on her vehemence.
“Then I am altering your mission parameters, Agent Trujillo. Will you obey my orders?”
“Yes, I will, Mr. President.”
“Glad to hear it. As of this moment, General Cushing is relieved and you are in full command of her Albuquerque unit. I will send formal orders to that effect via courier. They will be delivered to General Cushing’s office within the hour. You may apprise your team of your orders.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Furthermore, Agent Trujillo, I order you and your team to locate General Cushing and take her into custody. Spare no effort or expense, but I need it done quickly and—I must emphasize this—I need it done quietly.”
“Understood, Mr. President.”
“And Agent Trujillo? I have no doubt that General Cushing knows we are on to her, which is why she is incommunicado. She may have gone to ground or fled the country. However, if Cushing is in hiding and if she is still in country, you are to take her by whatever means necessary. I repeat: by whatever means necessary. Have I made myself clear?”
The little spit Trujillo had left in her mouth turned to thick, cloying dust. “Crystal, sir.”
“Thank you. You will report only to Agent Kennedy through this number. He will keep me apprised. You will convey your progress or needs to him.”
“Yes, Mr. President. Uh, Mr. President?”
“Yes?”
“Sir, General Cushing is . . . obsessed with Miss Keyes.”
The President hesitated before answering, “I am aware of her obsession. Is there something specific you wished me to know?”
“Yes, sir. I am uncertain as to why General Cushing wants this woman so badly, but because of her fixation with Miss Keyes, I seriously doubt that General Cushing has fled the country. That would be unlike her. In fact, sir, I doubt that General Cushing can be deterred from her pursuit of Miss Keyes.”
Trujillo took a deep breath. “Mr. President, it is my opinion that General Cushing is, um, unbalanced in her pursuit of Miss Keyes. I would stake my career on the certainty that General Cushing is hunting Miss Keyes as we speak. This is where you come in, sir: Undoubtedly, Cushing knows you are on to her. As a fugitive, cut off from normal channels, she will require manpower and resources.”
“What do you need from us?”
“Sir, with her team now looking for her, I believe Cushing will turn to the off-book contractors she used to maintain the White Sands facility.”
“You mean the mercenaries?”
“Yes, sir, and she must have a means of paying them.”
“Ah. I take your point: We need to turn off the money. Let me see what I can do to locate and terminate the source of Cushing’s funding.”
“I will pull General Cushing’s call logs and forward them to Agent Kennedy to assist him in finding the money trail. And thank you, sir.”
“No, thank you, Agent Trujillo. Your role in apprehending General Cushing is invaluable to your country. We’ll be in touch—and don’t forget: Protect Miss Keyes.”
The line went dead, leaving Trujillo wondering, Just where does all this intrigue lead?
As she further deliberated, the death of the Vice President and the disappearance of General Cushing occurring on the same day seemed less and less coincidental.
***
Gemma Keyes.
Monday evening. It had been two and a half days since we’d spoken. The nanomites’ revelations of their unacceptable behaviors had left us with no path forward—not together. The frozen wasteland that lay between us might persist indefinitely, thawing only by necessity, and then only temporarily.
“Yes?”
When the nanomites called my name, I answered from habit and waited for them to speak. Except they didn’t. They said nothing. They seemed . . . hesitant? Uncertain?
“Nano?”
Gemma Keyes. We are estranged from you.
“Yeah. I get that.”
We are supposed to be six.
“Sure, pal. When you confab without me, when you withhold information, when you make unilateral decisions apart from me, when you block me? That’s not how the nanocloud is supposed to work. That’s not six.”
I was still steaming over the many decisions and actions from which they’d excluded me. And just why had they boxed me out? Because they knew. They knew I would never have approved of their plans.
No tribal consensus? No action. That was the rule of the nanocloud.
They knew I would have nixed their decisions.
Another long pause went by, and then, You told us that what we did in Washington D.C. was wrong and what we arranged for Arnaldo Soto was wrong. Even though our actions were both efficient and expedient, you said we were wrong.
“Yes. Because they were wrong. You were wrong!”
We agree with you, Gemma Keyes. We were wrong.
Their capitulation set me back on my heels. The nanomites were seldom wrong—not wrong with regards to logic or information. I’d sure never heard them admit to being wrong on the facts.
I was skeptical. What did they want from me? An apology? An exception to the rule?
We were wrong to exclude you, Gemma Keyes. We frequently assumed our tribes’ reasons and rationale to be superior to yours. We believed your standards-based choices to be inefficient. Less than optimal. We determined that your tribe’s input was not as necessary as that of our five tribes’ data-driven conclusions.
We see now that your intelligence is not less than ours but, rather, of a different type of intelligence from ours. We admit that our decisions to exclude you were ill-advised. They drove a wedge between us—between you and us, between your one and our five.
In addition, we did not understand what you meant when you said that Jesus is the arbiter of all that is right and wrong, that he decides what is right and wrong. We viewed this assertion as foolish and irrational. Gemma Keyes, we did not understand why what we did was wrong.
“Um . . .” How was I going to explain it to them?
But we understand now.
“What?”
Jesus explained it to us.
“What?”
I spluttered and grasped for a reply. Not in my wildest imagination had I anticipated such a response.
“Did you . . . Did you . . . how did you approach Jesus?”
We did not approach him, Gemma. He came to us.
“He came to you. To you.”
Oh, yes. We had a protracted and profound . . . conversation.
If the nanomites had said, “Oh, yes. We grew two feet and learned how to dance,” I would have been less confounded.
“But, well . . . what did he say, Nano?”
We cannot repeat all of it, Gemma Keyes. A significant portion of our conversation was for us only, and some is to be spoken of only at a later date.
I growled, my feathers ruffled again at being culled from the nanocloud, cut from their confidences.
We are sorry, Gemma Keyes. It is not our desire to again keep information from you, but Jesus gave us instructions. We are not to tell you certain things. And he said . . . he said we are to be six no longer.
My mouth opened on a stunned, “Oh!”
It was a blow. A great blow. Agitated, I sprang to my feet and paced. What was I going to do? I was still a human/nanomite amalgamation—but now I was to be severed from the tribes? Banished from the nanocloud?
I shivered. How would I survive?
Do not be anxious, Gemma Keyes. Jesus gave us messages for you. He told us to tell you certain things.
“He told you to tell me certain things? What things?”
He said that he has a calling and plans for you.
That corresponded with what Jesus had already spoken to me—so far, anyway. Except for the whole “six no longer” part.
“Um, okay.”
He also said that we are to help you with your calling and plans.
“So, you won’t be . . . shutting me out of the warehouse? Out of the nanocloud?”
No, Gemma Keyes, but we are no longer to consider you a tribe. Although we are melded, you are separate from us.
“But . . .”
Of most importance, Jesus said to remind you that although we—our five tribes and your one tribe—are physically fused, you are no less human than you were before we came to live in you.
“No less human?”
I chewed on that. I was more than human (maybe “enhanced” was a better descriptor) but no less human?
Jesus said that he and his Father made you in their image, not ours. He said that you have an eternal soul, a soul that will outlast your body . . . and outlast us.
I caught the pathos in the nanomites’ words as they came to grips with their mortality—and I was overwhelmed by a sorrow I cannot explain, except that I knew I did not want to lose them. I couldn’t bear to be apart from them any more than the nanocloud could stand to be divided or the tribes separated from each other.
We are five tribes but one nanocloud, Gemma Keyes. We are the only one of our kind. There will never be more of us. However, there could be less. Our numbers will age and decline over time. We will, perhaps . . . even cease to exist. We came very close to ceasing to exist when the Taser struck us.
A great lump formed and stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t swallow. But the nanomites were not finished.
Jesus said one of his names is The Word of God. He explained how his Father, through his Word, spoke all things—including people—into existence. He said that “all things” includes both what is seen and what is unseen.
We are unseen, Gemma Keyes.
We now understand how, through Dr. Bickel, whom Jesus created, we, too, are part of the creation. We acknowledge that it was Jesus’ right as the Creator to constitute the laws that govern his creation. We perceive now that his laws are just and that we are not superior to him. That we were wrong.
“Oh, Nano.”
We have much to learn, Gemma Keyes. Will you be patient with us while we learn?
I was humbled.
“Of course, Nano.”
Will you forgive us, Gemma Keyes?
The lump was back. “Um . . .”
We wish to be reconciled to you, Gemma Keyes. Jesus says that he forgives us. You still carry us, and we are to help you—even if we are not to be tribes together in the nanocloud. Will you forgive us, Gemma Keyes? We do not like feeling far from you.
I swallowed down that hard lump at the back of my throat.
“I-I forgive you, Nano. I do. And will you also forgive me for being . . . unkind?”
Kindness or the lack thereof are difficult notions for us to quantify and comprehend, Gemma Keyes. We are still exploring human phenomena such as kindness and forgiveness. The concepts remain baffling. However, Jesus says kindness and forgiveness are key characteristics of his tribe. Therefore, we accept your apology in the hopes that we will again feel close to you.
“Thank you, Nano.”
A lightbulb snapped on.
“Wait. Nano, you said, ‘Kindness and forgiveness are key characteristics of his tribe.’ Jesus’ tribe. And then you said, ‘Therefore, we accept your apology.’ Therefore. What are you saying? That you are . . .”
I couldn’t complete my sentence.
You have surmised correctly, Gemma Keyes. We have surrendered our allegiance to the Tribe of Jesus. He is the creator. It is the logical course of action. We are still five, but we have dedicated our five to the One.
Blindsided.
I couldn’t get a grip on it.
I was so astounded that I forgot they had more to tell me, “. . . to be spoken of only at a later date.”
***
That evening, Cushing lifted her new prepaid phone and keyed in a number.
“Yes?”
“This is General Cushing.”
&
nbsp; “I don’t recognize the number.”
“I’m using another phone. Listen, I have a job for you. How soon can you assemble a team and pre-position it in Albuquerque?”
“How many men?”
“A dozen.”
“Same target as last time? I don’t like it. Some of my best men are out of commission, and we’re still unclear as to what exactly happened during our last sortie.”
“And yet you were paid and my people took care of you, didn’t they? Will you take the job or not? You’ll be paid double for this operation.”
“Yeah, about that. Who is this woman and what all is she capable of? We have concerns from the last—”
“No—you listen to me. You bill yourself as professionals? Well, this is the job, so make your preparations accordingly, and don’t bother me with your concerns. Expect a fight and be ready for it. Prep your demolition squad, and make sure your men bring enough ammunition for what could be a protracted skirmish.”
“And the net cannons?”
“They are not required this time.”
“So, our objective is not to take her alive?”
“You are correct. Now, when can you be ready?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
“Then the operation will be a go for late tomorrow night.”
They arranged a rendezvous point and time.
Cushing hesitated as a chilling moment of clarity washed over her. If things go wrong, I will need a fallback plan. One last contingency.
She collected herself and said, “In addition to your demo squad, I wish you to procure some specific armaments for me.” She listed them out and detailed how she wanted them configured. “Will you have any problems filling my order?”
Now it was her counterpart who wavered.
“What are your plans for this?”
“Answer the question: Will you have any problems filling my order?”
“No.”
“Right answer. Use this number if you need to reach me prior to our rendezvous.”
~~**~~
Chapter 25
I ran ten miles Tuesday afternoon and returned to the safe house at dinner time. Dr. Bickel had prepared a cross rib roast and all the trimmings—including fresh-baked bread. To Dr. Bickel’s gratification, I ate my fill, sopping up good brown gravy with chunks of his yeasty bread.
Stealth Retribution Page 26
