by Jay Posey
“OK,” Thumper said, with an exhale that made it sound like she’d been holding her breath the whole time. “I’m in. Just gonna take me a second to crawl it.”
Lincoln hoped it really was only going to take a second. In fact, it took her about ten, which was close enough.
“Huh,” she said.
“You get a hit?” Lincoln asked.
“Yep,” Thumper said. “Comm array’s got a command module bridge piggybacked on it. Or a jury-rigged one, anyway.”
“And that does what?” Lincoln said.
“It’s like a uh…” she said. “Well, a bridge. Like I said. Sort of like a repeater: you pass a signal through one end, it gets strengthened and passed on to the final destination. But it’s special-purpose, command-and-control code type stuff. And it’s got some high-grade encryption baked in, so whatever it’s talking to isn’t your off-the-shelf kind of gear.”
“These are our guys, then.”
“No,” Thumper said, with a head shake. “I don’t think so. I mean, yeah, sort of. But you wouldn’t need a bridge if you were running the C&C from here. You could just do it straight. I’m thinking your pass-through theory is probably right. Somebody’s sending comms through this ship. Whether these people are in on it or not, they aren’t running the show. Pretty sure we’re on the right track, but we’re not at the top yet.”
“What are we doing about it?”
“Well. Good news is I can probably extract the bounce data from it, and figure out where the other end is.”
If Thumper led with the good news, then that meant there was bad on the way.
“But the bad news is…” Lincoln said.
“I’m going to need access to their comm array. For a while.”
“No chance that’s somewhere easy to get to, I guess.”
“It’s on the bridge.”
“Of course it is.”
Lincoln reflexively reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose before remembering he had the suit on, and there was no way for him to touch his face. He stopped his hand halfway and clenched it into a fist instead.
“All right,” Lincoln said. He switched over to the team wide channel. “Anvil, Hammer’s done in the service tunnel.” He waited for Wright’s confirmation before continuing.
“Anvil copies,” Wright responded after a moment. “What’s the story?”
“Thumper’s got an ID on some gadget, we’re going to have to go down into the vessel to pull it. Looks like we’re going to have to take the bridge after all. Can you start making your way into position?”
“Not just yet. I want to get confirmation on our extra personnel first.”
“Roger that,” said Lincoln. “We’ll make our way to internal entry and hold for your callback.”
“Understood Hammer. Shouldn’t be long.”
“Keep us posted. Hammer out.”
By the time Lincoln had checked in with the rest of the team, Thumper had already finished collecting her tools. She was in the process of replacing the panel she’d removed in order to gain access to the ship’s communications array.
“Wish you could work as fast as you clean up, Thump,” Sahil said. “I ain’t been this bored on an op since that babysittin’ job for the Brazilians.”
“I do it to annoy you, Sahil,” Thumper answered. “I’m sure I could find an alarm in here to trip if that’d help.”
“Too late now,” he replied.
Thumper secured the panel back in place, and if Lincoln hadn’t watched her do it he would have had a hard time telling she’d done anything all. She’d even put it back on slightly off-angle, just like they’d found it. Thumper got to her feet, brought her weapon around from her back, and nodded at Lincoln.
“Let’s go see if we can find something for Sahil to do, sir,” she said.
“Roger that,” Lincoln responded, trying very hard not to let the numbers get to him. If they could take the bridge fast enough, there was a good chance they could seal off the lower decks and prevent the rest of the crew from retaking it. Better than good. Ninety-nine percent likely. But there was always the if.
Wright brought Poke into the cargo hold through one of the environmental control vents. Once it had made its way to them, she had it reconfigure to a wide, flat shape, and set it to autoscan. From there, the little foldable went to work crisscrossing the hold, navigating around and through the containers on some search pattern of its own devising. Wright led Mike on their own separate search, confirming that there was no one else in the cargo bay. They’d completed their circuit when Poke chimed at her.
The datafeed showed its location and what it had found.
Based on the heat and electrical impulses, there were seventeen people somewhere directly below it.
But when Wright crossed the hold to where Poke was, she found that the foldable had wedged itself in between two closely-packed containers. She quickly surveyed the immediate surroundings, and then summoned Poke back to her as her suspicions coalesced. The bot trundled its way over, gradually spreading out again as space allowed.
“Mike, check that container,” she said, pointing to the one on the right. “See if there’s a way in.”
“You mean besides cutting through?” he asked.
She ignored the comment and went to work searching the other container. Most shipping containers were sealed at the loading point, both for safety and security, particularly when freelance haulers were involved. Made it more obvious when any tampering had gone on. Wright walked around the outside, scanning for any indication of a door or hatch. Nothing unusual stood out or caught her eye, and she paused at the back side of the container, wondering if she’d gotten it wrong. She was just reaching to pull her scanner off her belt to get a look inside when Mike spoke.
“Got it,” he said.
“‘K, hold on a sec,” she answered. She moved around and rejoined him. Sure enough, at the back corner of the container there was a thin seam. Even with the visor’s light amplification and its sensors picking up other spectra outside normal visual range, the line was difficult to see. It was well-camouflaged in the regular contours of the container.
“Good eyes,” Wright said.
“Pretty, too,” Mike replied, deadpan. Despite the wise crack, his tone of voice suggested absolute focus; sometimes it seemed like his mouth wasn’t even connected to his mind. “Think we can spring it?”
“Better get a second opinion first,” she answered. She clicked over to the team channel. “Thumper, you got a sec?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” Thumper responded.
“Got what looks like a shipping container with a concealed entry point on the side here. I need to see if it’s wired up.”
“What, like a secret door or something?”
“Yes.”
“Cool! Sure, yeah, is Poke still running around?”
“It’s here with me. You want it back?”
“Yeah, gimme a sec with it.”
Wright handed control of the foldable back over to Thumper. After a moment, it reconfigured itself into a vaguely beetle-like shape and proceeded to crawl up the side of the container. It paused at a height just above Wright’s head.
“Whatever’s in here, they’re not delivering it,” Thumper said. “From the tracking history, it looks like they just update the destination every so often. Never actually offload it.”
“I’m just worried about the door right now,” Wright said.
“Working on it,” she answered. Wright glanced back at Mike, who had turned to face the opposite direction, keeping watch. Every minute they spent down here was a minute longer they had to spend on target. And every minute longer on target was just an extra opportunity for it to go wrong. Ninety seconds later, Thumper got back to them.
“Neat,” Thumper said. “This is sort of clever. Looks like two actually, one on the side, and a hatch in the floor. Like a double false bottom. I guess if the authorities are clever enough to find the first one, it just looks like a way to skim some product
out of the container. Probably wouldn’t look any harder beyond that. And yeah, good call, they’re both wired.”
“Think you can bypass?” Wright asked. As she was asking, the side entry point clicked and partially retracted.
“Hatch is physical,” Thumper said. “You’ll have to open it manually. But it shouldn’t set off any alarms.”
“Roger. I’m taking Poke back,” said Wright. “Mike, keep an eye out.”
“You got it,” Mike replied.
Wright assumed control of the foldable, and sent it into the container first, attached to the underside of the roof. It was pitch black inside; Poke’s sensors fed data directly to her visor, crafting images from the darkness. Metal crates were stacked nearly floor to ceiling, held in place against either side of the container with networks of straps. A narrow corridor ran down the middle. Wright made her way to the far end, where a row of crates reached only to waist height. These were braced against the roof of the container with a series of expandable arms. The crates were visually indistinguishable from one another, except for the one that Thumper had marked with a digital signature. Wright removed the brace from the top of it and after a minute or two of searching, found two portions of the crate that were actually latches.
She’d already confirmed enough to know her hunch was correct. There was no doubt about it now, the extra personnel they’d detected were down there below her. Hidden under the deck, with an entrance that was itself doubly-disguised. Human cargo, being smuggled to who knew where. Maybe they were refugees. Maybe escaped prisoners. Maybe radicals, looking to infiltrate some stable society so they could make a statement. Whatever the case, whoever they were, right now they were trapped in a shipping container.
And if they were in a shipping container, then they weren’t a threat; if not a threat, then no factor for the op. A complication, possibly, but not a threat. There was no good reason to risk discovery, just to satisfy curiosity. And yet, even as her mind worked through the angles and implications, her desire to know, to positively identify, drove her hands.
Silently, slowly, she unhooked the latches and raised the edge just enough to let Poke slip through. It worked its way down, clinging to the side, and then to the ceiling.
There was a single light in one corner of the hidden compartment, a dull, yellow-brown globe that coated the room in a clinging, muddy aura. And through Poke’s feed, Wright saw that her hunch hadn’t been exactly correct.
People, yes.
Seventeen of them, as expected. They were gathered in small groups, huddled together for warmth and whatever comfort they could find. Some appeared to be sleeping. On second look, Wright realized that the groups were gathered around large bowls or pots. Scooping their hands in and bringing them to their mouths in hurried desperation. Her mind flashed back to the substance she’d found spattered on the deck in the passageway outside. The slimy, gritty grey-white mess she’d taken for some kind of mechanical fluid. Their food.
With Poke’s lens she scanned the faces, and despite her years of service in some of the most horrible locations and situations in the known, her heart lurched and her emotions slipped. Their eyes were frightened, confused, hollowed with weariness, and hunger, and who could say what else. And the oldest among them could not have been more than thirteen years of age.
Wright stood in silence, her mind shocked into stasis. For how long, she didn’t know. Her comms brought her back to herself.
“What you got, mama bear?” Mike asked.
In response, Wright split Poke’s feed, piped it into Mike’s visor. For once, he had nothing to say.
“Hammer,” Wright said. “Anvil. We’ve located your personnel. Count is seventeen, appear to be subject to trafficking.”
“We copy, Anvil. What’s your assessment?”
Wright didn’t know how to answer.
“Kids, Lincoln,” Mike said. “It’s all a bunch of kids.”
The revelation hit Lincoln with nearly physical force. He felt a shock of cold pass through, a force of frost reality crashing over his expectations for the op. This was one possibility the sim hadn’t come up with, and one for which he felt completely unprepared. He had known it was a possibility that all those extra people weren’t on board by choice. But children… the thought had never entered his mind.
“You copy?” Mike said. Lincoln wasn’t sure how many seconds it’d been since the report had come in.
“Roger, I copy,” he answered. And then added, “Stand by.”
Stand by for what? Lincoln didn’t know yet. His thoughts buzzed through his mind, an overturned hornet’s nest of plans and contingencies and options, without coherence or cohesion. Seventeen kids, headed off to who knew what fate.
“What’re we doin’, Cap’n?” Sahil asked. He was keeping things neutral, but Lincoln could hear the anger in his voice. Lincoln was pretty sure that if he left Sahil to his own devices, the man would likely walk through the vessel and execute every member of the crew with extreme prejudice and zero regret.
“Thumper,” Lincoln said. “Is there any way you can get what you need from the comm array without getting onto the bridge?”
She thought for a moment, but then shook her head. “No, not really. I need physical access to it.”
“What about the device itself? Is it on the bridge?”
“Nah, it’s buried down in the guts, underneath.”
“Anything we can do with it?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t have any of the tools I’d need to be able to pull data directly from it while it’s in place.”
“I mean if we take it home.”
Another span of silence, while Thumper evaluated. It seemed to take her longer than usual.
“Huh. I hadn’t thought about that,” she said. “It’s a little more complicated, probably take me longer on the back end, but yeah, maybe.”
“No time for maybes, Thump.”
“Yeah. Yeah I should be able to do it. Just going to have to replicate a setup once we get back. But I guess if I spend some time with the hardware that might get us some good info too.”
“Are they going to notice it’s missing when it’s gone?”
“I’m not sure they even know they have it, sir. I guess we’ll find out?”
There were no good options.
The seventeen kids brought the potential bad guy count down to more manageable levels. Lincoln knew his team could take the ship now. But then what? They couldn’t leave the ship floating in open space with a bunch of kids on board. There was no telling how long it would take for the nearest authorities to respond. Lincoln couldn’t keep his team on the vessel. The potential cascade of events put too much at risk, too much beyond the team’s ability to control. And they were already short on time, and leads.
No good options. Lincoln made the only choice he could. The only one there was, really.
“Anvil,” he said. “Close it back up.” No matter how lightly he said it, the words sounded harsh even to his own ears.
There was a pause.
“Say again, sir,” Wright replied, her tone carefully controlled.
“Put everything back the way you found it,” Lincoln answered. “I want zero footprint. No indication we were here.”
“But we are here, sir,” Mike said. “We’re here, now.” Lincoln didn’t miss the implied message.
“Not for them,” Lincoln answered.
“We can’t just leave ‘em–” Sahil said.
“We can, and we will,” Lincoln responded, cutting him off. “We have our mission. We lose focus now, a lot worse is going to follow, for a lot more people.”
He said it with a conviction he didn’t feel.
“Wright, take facial on each individual,” he said. “We’ll put it out on the wire when we get back. Let the proper authorities take it from there.”
“Roger that,” Wright answered. Her previous request for Lincoln to repeat his order was her only sign of protest. She knew the decision had been made, a
nd now it was only time to execute.
“Once you’ve got it clean down there, exfil and return to the Lamprey,” Lincoln said. Then he turned and looked back at Sahil. “You too, Sahil. Go ahead and prep the ship for detach. Thumper and I will head in and retrieve the device, then meet you back outside. We’ll freespace to pick up.”
Sahil nodded curtly.
Lincoln didn’t love the idea of sending the rest of his team outside the ship; if trouble came, they wouldn’t be able to provide support. But the fewer of them there were sneaking around the ship, the fewer chances there’d be for accidental contact, and the quicker they could exfiltrate when the time came.
No one argued. Sahil turned and made his way back down the service tunnel, towards the hatch they’d first used to gain entry. All that was left to do now was for Lincoln and Thumper to sneak down through the most active part of the ship, steal a device buried somewhere under the bridge, and get back out without anyone noticing. Success seemed unlikely. Business as usual.
“All right, Thump,” he said. “Lead the way.”
She nodded and squeezed by him, which was no easy task in the narrow service tunnel. And as Lincoln followed her out, he fought to turn off the portion of his mind that was still trying to figure out how they could save all those kids.
“OK, I can get to it from here,” Thumper said. She was more somber, more direct with her words than usual. She hadn’t spoken to him at all during their tense crawl down into the main passageways of the vessel; she’d only communicated through hand signals. But Lincoln didn’t get the impression she was deliberately showing her displeasure at his choice; it seemed more like it was her way of insulating herself from everything outside of the objective at hand. He was trying his best to do the same thing.
The proper access panel to the communications array was actually on the deck above them, on the bridge. But if they had any hope of pulling this off without detection, trying to gain entry to the bridge was clearly no longer an option. Instead, they’d opted to make an access point of their own, through the overhead of a storage compartment roughly beneath the command bridge. It wasn’t ideal, but the few choices they had were all poor, and Thumper had figured that from their limited choices this one was the least bad.
