by JC Ryan
Brad rubbed his neck while he replied. “Yes, sir that is correct.”
“From what you were saying, I got the impression they all escaped at more or less the same time - in other words, a coordinated effort. Who would have the organizational capability to pull off something like that without your elaborate security network knowing?”
Brad almost choked as he tried to swallow. Are they going to hold me accountable for what happened on that deserter, Jonathan Lucas’s watch?
“I... I am... I think the only answer is that it was the Rosslers,” he stuttered.
“Well, it is obvious they had something to do with it. After all, it was their families who were ‘rescued’. Do you think they are capable of pulling off a stunt like this without any outside help?”
“Sir that is possible. As you know they are a very skillful group of people. It’s highly unlikely that we wouldn’t be aware if they got help outside their group. We know about every nonconformist group in the country and have tabs on them at all times. We’ve picked up many of their members and questioned them in the aftermath of these events and have come up empty handed so far."
Martinez decided to give Brad a few more inches of rope. “The Rosslers have been a thorn in our flesh since the very beginning. Can you tell us a bit more about the progress you have made in finding them?”
Brad relaxed as he thought he was off the hook. “We have a mountain of information on them. Again, we have a team of dedicated people working on their case. I have some of the information right here, if you want to have a look.”
The councilors nodded for Brad to continue.
For the next forty-five minutes, he took them through the Rossler files, showing them the interrogation reports, photos, theories, and speculations.
“In other words Brad, you have no clue about them?” Weinstein’s friendly manner from earlier had all of a sudden turned into a firm tone.
Brad was caught off guard. “To be honest, yes sir. That is the case.”
Weinstein looked straight at him. “Okay let me see what we have here. You have no clue about your predecessor, Jonathan Lucas. You have no clue about the Rosslers - you have forty-one supposedly dead people but no clue where the bodies could be. You have no clue how they were able to escape. Despite the obvious evidence to the contrary, you insist on continuing to look for dead people.”
Brad felt several cold tremors running down his spine.
Martinez grinned. “You see Brad, the problem is you are not honest with us. You know as well as we do those forty-one people are alive. Your own investigators have proved it. After all this time, they would surely have found at least one body. Nine families escaped from nine different locations at the same time, yet you maintain the Rosslers, a group of about forty-five people, amongst them a bunch of elderly, have pulled all of that off in one night. I am sure you are not that stupid.
“We came here to meet an honest and hardworking man, to congratulate you on your promotion and to encourage you to keep on doing good work. But I am afraid we will have to report to the Supreme Council that you are the wrong choice for this position,” Weinstein almost snarled at him.
Brad was shattered. “I am sorry – please, let me try to rectify the mistake. I have a wife and three children.”
“Not sure how you propose to do that, but let’s hear it,” Martinez said, giving Johnson a gap through which he hastened to step.
Brad was licking his lips and stuttering. “Councilors, please, believe me, it was not my intention to deceive you. I didn’t want to give you unsubstantiated information. I truly don’t have definite answers to the questions you have asked. But please consider that I have been in this position for just a few weeks now. It is my opinion that those people are alive. I have no evidence of it, and I don’t know how they managed to do it...”
“We know that already. Stop beating around the bush. What have you done about it?” Martinez asked curtly.
“I have … ah … I have sent out a top-secret memo to all police chiefs to make them aware of the possibility that some of the chips could have been compromised. They are to report any irregularities to me immediately.”
“Why could you not tell us about that? In addition, why does the Supreme Council not know about the fact that you believe those people are still alive? In other words, why are you withholding information from us?” Somehow, Weinstein managed to look furious while he was struggling not to smile.
Brad was about to have a messy accident in his pants. If he gave them an honest answer to those questions, he might as well jump through the window to his death. Either way the outcome was going to be the same. He just stared in front of him, the blood drained from his face, and he was speechless.
“What was your intention when you found a person who has a chip that has been tampered with? Who were you going to tell about it? Were you going to withhold that information as you've just tried with us?” Martinez continued to hammer him.
“Oh my God no! Never! I will bring it to the attention of the Director of BOSS immediately! I just don’t want to bother him with unverified information and hunches at this stage.” He was almost out of breath when he completed that reply.
Martinez and Weinstein looked at each other and Brad detected a faint smile on their faces, which confused the hell out of him. Seconds ago they were grilling me in the flames and now they are smiling. Or are they the smiling executioners?
“I think we have talked enough. It’s almost time for our next meeting,” Weinstein announced.
“Yes. I agree,” Martinez got up.
Brad’s state of confusion reached a dangerous peak when Martinez took a little recorder out his pocket. The red light was still on - he placed it on the table, and switched it off and sat down again.
“I have recorded our conversation. I guess you will agree that there is enough on that recorder to have your button pushed?”
Brad nodded his head in agreement - he had no illusions about the accuracy of that statement.
“We are going to give you another chance. I suggest you listen very carefully.”
Brad nodded his head, as he didn’t trust himself to say anything.
“About the matter of those forty-one people and the Rosslers, you will report to us first. If we ever find out that we were not the first people whom you spoke to when you got any new information, your days will be numbered. You will not talk to anyone, and that includes the Director of BOSS, until you have spoken to one of us. Is that entirely clear?”
“Yes sir, crystal clear.”
Martinez took a cellphone, about the size of a box of matches, out of his pocket and placed it in front of Brad. “From now on, you will carry that with you wherever you go. It has been programmed so that you can do only two things - you call me or receive a call from me. Nothing else. It’s a secure line.”
With that, Martinez and Weinstein got up, shook hands with Brad, and left.
When the door closed behind them, Brad fell back into his chair. He was exhausted, and his mind was completely disordered.
At the next Supreme Council meeting after their return, the two councilors reported on their American trip and the meetings they had with various high-ranking officials. They made a point of telling everyone how impressed they were with the loyalty and support the council had among many of the officials, including the new head of security, Brad Johnston.
Silicon Hills
True to their promise, Dennis, and Eric delivered a mirror phone to Michelle Beckett, and soon afterward, she and Sam had a long catch up. They came to a discussion of the NaBoTech operation.
“Do you have everything you need to get the job done?” Sam asked. “I have a few people available who can move around freely and have a bit of experience with this sort of thing.”
“Thanks for that Sam. I might have to take you up on that offer shortly. For the next week or so, we’ll be busy collecting information, but when the time comes to get hold of the bots, we might need that
help.”
“Good. Let’s see what your surveillance efforts produce and take it from there. In the meantime if you could dial into our daily operations meeting and update us on your progress.”
“No problem, happy to do that.”
Once Michelle’s team got the spyflies into the NaBoTech buildings, they made quick progress. Four days after the conversation with Sam, she reported that they'd managed to get into the internal computer network and collect a treasure trove of information.
“Yes, you heard me correctly. We have the design and manufacturing blueprints, the shipping process, stockpile locations, and everything else we might need - except of course the bot itself. I will be sending all the information over as soon as we’re done with the meeting.” Michelle smiled proudly.
“Sterling job, Michelle. Dennis, you’ve got yourselves one competent operator there!” Sam remarked.
Dennis joined in with the humor. “Absolutely Sam. No doubt about that. I’m glad we got to her before you did.”
“The next thing will be to work out how to get hold of the bots. Michelle, you have seen the information. Any initial ideas?” Sam asked.
“Well, I’m not a field operative as you know, so it’s dangerous for me to assess what’s possible and what isn’t. I can tell you though, as far as electronic security goes, they have the latest and greatest state of the art systems. Nevertheless, I'm confident with the information we’ve collected about the systems, we’ll find a way to bypass that. Of course, that is if we decide that the plant is the best place to try and snatch the bots.”
“I suggest we have a look at the information Michelle will be sending and see if some of the stockpile locations might offer an easier target.” Salome suggested.
“Can’t wait to get my hands on that information,” Roy muttered.
Within half an hour after the meeting ended, the techies were poring over the NaBoTech information while Sam and the rest of the operations team were studying the manufacturing, distribution, and stockpiling processes.
The next morning Roy told the meeting that they'd studied the designs and were keen to get their hands on a few of the bots.
“What have you learned about the bots so far?” Daniel asked.
“They're relatively simple. They weren’t designed to be tamperproof at all. They obviously have just one purpose, and that is to find humans and kill them.”
“How does that happen? I mean what does it do inside the body?” Nigel asked in a soft voice as he recalled the dreadful day when he saw his security guards dying before his eyes.
“It targets the parts of the brain that regulate breathing. It destroys the nerves and arteries in the brain, and the person stops breathing immediately. It will cause severe muscle spasms and may produce blood at the nose and mouth,” Rebecca explained.
Nigel‘s face was pale. “Dear God! That is exactly what happened to our boys. Roy, please tell me you know how to defeat those evil things. I don’t ever want to see another human being die like that.”
“Don’t worry Nigel. We already know how to do that. They’re mini robots preprogrammed with specific instructions. The quickest and easiest way to defeat them is to destroy the nano circuitry inside with an electromagnetic pulse. That’s why I need to get hold of a few of them to work out how strong a pulse we need.”
“How big an EMP are we talking about? Do you need a nuke or can it be done with something smaller?” Daniel asked.
Roy laughed. “As much as I would have loved to drop a few decent size nukes on them, it won’t be necessary. You remember that one I tested on the warehouse in Denver. Well, that one was about the half the size of a pencil. What I have in mind now will be the size of the tip of a pencil. It would fit into a spyfly. However, this one won’t make a big noise, it will only generate a sudden high-intensity EMP and that’s it. You won’t hear a thing.”
“Okay, I’m feeling better already. I was just a little worried you were planning to explode a nuke in the stratosphere!”
When the laughing receded, Jack, who had been listening quietly, started questioning Roy - to everyone’s surprise.
“I take it the bots are inactive while in storage. At what stage are they activated, and how long do they remain active?” Jack asked.
“Yes, they’re inactive while in storage. The operator activates them at launch, and they have a five-minute lifespan before they self-destruct.”
“How big an area will that EMP device of yours cover?”
“About four-hundred square yards, I’m sure of. Could be a bit more, but work on that to be safe.” Roy replied.
“The spyflies can be remote controlled via the sky mirrors?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“I guess the EMP will also destroy the circuitry of the spyflies? Is it likely that the spyflies might be discovered afterwards?” Jack wanted to know.
“No, don’t worry about that. The pulse will vaporize the spyflies.”
“I get the feeling you have a strategy in the making, Jack,” Sam observed.
“Yea, I think the obvious thing to do is to plant the spyflies at the stockpile locations in advance of D-Day, hook them up to the sky mirrors, and detonate them when we want,” Jack explained.
“That will be a job for Tectus,” Sam replied while looking at Dennis and Eric. “They should start by collecting information about all the locations, and then we can look at how to deploy the devices.”
“We’ll get our people onto it immediately,” Dennis confirmed.
“The only thing remaining is to get Roy a few of those bots now. We will have to give Tectus a few days to send back information about the stockpile locations before we pick a target.” After his last statement, Sam concluded the meeting.
The job interview
As the information about the stockpile sites came in from Tectus, it became apparent that almost all of them were inside police stations. In those locations, it was going to be particularly dangerous to get hold of the bots. After long discussions with Michelle and studies of more video footage, the combined leadership groups decided to target the manufacturing plant in Austin instead.
Michelle, Dennis, and Eric had a plan to infiltrate the facility, which they presented to the operations team. This was scrutinized in much detail and given the go-ahead.
At midnight three days later, Bill Hockey, one of the workers at the NaBoTech facility, reported to the front desk for his shift. His chip had been demilitarized. Tectus had equipped him with a spyfly, micro earphones, and miniature microphone, all of which was hidden in his dreadlocks. He went through the sterilization area, placed the shower cap over his hair, and then took a shower. Next, he put on the full-body biohazard protective suit, which everyone working in close proximity of the bots had to wear at all times. As soon as he got out of the shower, he fitted the earphones and microphone.
While on a break at about 3 a.m., he got his chance when he was talking to one of his coworkers, Jason, who was working in the lab next to the production line where he was working. Michelle’s team, who were following everything on a video screen about three miles away, swapped the chip ID’s between them and gave Bill the signal that it was done.
Bill kept a close watch. As soon as he saw Jason leave for the bathroom, he walked past his desk in the lab, grabbed two tiny canisters with bots, and placed them in his pocket. He would hide those with the other gadgets in his hair later, when his shift ended.
The team outside swapped the chip ID’s back as soon as Jason returned. They had to wait until Bill finished his shift at 8 am to get the canisters. The outside team started congratulating each other on a mission accomplished.
“Boys, I’m excited too, but don’t relax too much yet. Keep a close watch until you have those canisters in your hands,” Michelle, who was following everything closely from her home control center, cautioned them.
At 7:50 a.m., Jason started packing his equipment away and checking the canisters back into the safe. He discovered two of
the canisters were missing. After a few minutes of intensive search, he was still empty handed and notified security, as procedures dictated.
In growing unease, Bill watched Jason through the glass window. The door was open, and he heard as Jason speak to the security manager. He hadn’t known the canisters were checked in and out. But now it was too late - he was in trouble.
“We have a situation here! Jason discovered the disappearance of the canisters and told security!” Bill almost shouted into his microphone. Luckily, the full-face mask gave enough cover so no one noticed.
Michelle took over immediately and started talking to Bill. “Bill, listen very carefully. I know it’s easier said than done, but it is of the utmost importance that you remain calm. You must act normal, or you’ll raise suspicion. I can see you, so don’t worry, just do exactly as I tell you, and everything is going to be absolutely fine.”
“I’ll … ah … try my best,” he stuttered.
“Good. Now pack your stuff and be ready to leave. Don’t rush it, just relax and act normal. There’s enough time, nothing to worry about.”
Bill managed to pull himself together and started packing his stuff while Michelle stayed in his ear and kept him calm.
“Excellent, Bill. Okay. Now I’m going to bring the spyfly to you and land it on your chest. Hide it, then get up, wave and say goodbye to everyone, and go to the change rooms. When you're in the shower, make sure you flush everything, including the canisters, down the drain. Don’t try to bring any of the equipment out. Make sure they can find nothing on you. Don’t worry, I can still hear you. I’m here all the way.”
Bill’s heart was pounding in his throat, his mouth was dry, and his palms were sweating.
“Looking good, Bill. I’m impressed - you look as cool as a cucumber.”
Once Bill had all his stuff packed, he got up and headed for the change rooms. Many of his co-workers were getting ready to leave as well.
“Ok, go and take the shower and go home. We’ll be waiting for you there.”
