Probe

by Douglas E Roff

  “Not really. Glad it’s over. Glad you trained me. But I think I’ll retire now and make babies instead.”

  “Need anything?”

  “Pickles and chocolate ice cream. But just send Alana and Noki down to my place in Seattle instead. Call Dad and tell him I’m OK. He’ll be worried. Only child you know.”

  “Misti?”

  “Yes?”

  “You did good. Very proud of you. Your men reported everything you did. Seems that the boys on your team all have a massive crush on you. Stay in touch with them. They’ll follow you to the gates of Hell.”

  Misti paused for a second. “They’re all good guys. All of them. I just wished I liked men more. What a shame.”

  ***

  The Paz brothers delivered their prisoners to the remnants of Casky Airforce Base, decommissioned in the 90’s during the Clinton administration. In the 80’s the place had been alive with NORAD personnel, and not only had a serviceable landing strip but bunkers connected in a honeycomb by tunnels. It had a sophisticated underground brig and that’s where the two Gens Trackers landed.

  Edward would fly down to watch the transformation of the Gens from human to natural state. He would film the entire process. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with them later. Perhaps he would ease them into the afterlife.

  After all, they had shot up his son. And really pissed off his daughter.

  Chapter 9

  Paulo called his brother as soon as he arrived back home in Princeton. He was anxious to hear his version of the story about what had just taken place at the Grand Canyon. Once he had been informed of the events by the curator of the Great Library, he quickly deduced that Enzo had been the Gens Elder who had given Titus the order to hunt down and kill the teams of humans that had suddenly appeared across the Canyon on the North Rim.

  Paulo was seething with anger and roiling inside. Had Enzo not been his brother, and Titus not already been dead, there might’ve been two more bodies to add to the numbers that the humans had killed that day. Indeed, now there were two Gens warriors missing and presumably in the hands of the Human. The Human, the one man who had eluded his Captains, Trackers, and everyone else, human and Gens, who had been tasked with finding him.

  Now Enzo hadn’t only let the man who might be the Human slip through his hands, the Human, if it was him, had found a way to capture two Gens warriors alive and within weeks of transforming. In addition to the lost Library, and instead of capturing the Human alive, the tables were now turned. They had, or were about to have, proof positive of the existence of the Gens Collective.

  Things couldn’t have been worse.

  Then there was the matter of the Agreement. The Human would now likely view the attempt on the lives of the humans at the Grand Canyon as an attempt on him, even if he wasn’t present. Had he been? Paulo couldn’t know now as the best opportunity that had presented itself in the past year and a half was now flushed down the toilet. If he didn’t know any better, Paulo might think that Enzo was trying to sabotage any progress toward identification of the Human. Or worse.

  The video telemetry recovered from the firefight seemed to suggest that it wasn’t a human male that had wreaked havoc on the Gens Captains and Trackers, but the human female. She had personally killed just about every Gens in the field that day, all good and loyal warriors. She had been responsible for the capture of the two warriors.

  Just how bad could it get? He would have a very frank and honest conversation with his little brother. Then decide where to send him. And his wife. And his kids. If he allowed any of them to live out the rest of the day, that is.

  His office phone rang, and Paulo assumed without looking that it was Enzo calling to make excuses for why he wasn’t presently seated in Paulo’s office explaining himself. Instead, Paulo thought to himself, Enzo and his family had probably boarded the first flight out of the country to … anywhere.

  “Where are you Enzo? You were supposed to be here in my office fifteen minutes ago. You can’t run, and you can’t hide. Come back and face me. I’ll let your family live if you do.”

  The voice on the other end of the call said, “If I were you, Fortizi, I’d be a lot more worried about your own wife and kids rather than your brother’s. You broke the Agreement, our agreement, and I’m calling to let you know it will not go unpunished. You lied to me. You made promises. Then you targeted me, but you didn’t get me. You got no one. But my people got yours and now there are a bunch of dead bodies at the Grand Canyon plus two more of your people I have in custody. Better run Paulo, because I’m coming for you.”

  “Who is this?” Paulo knew exactly who it was. Who it had to be.

  “Who the fuck do you think it is, Paulo? The guy you targeted but, the guy you missed. Now I’m the guy coming for you. And your family. Run, Paulo. Better get the fuck outta Dodge fast.”

  Paulo wasn’t one to run anywhere. He was much more likely to run toward danger than away from it and threats to him or his safety weren’t taken that seriously. Threats to his wife and children were an entirely different story. Nobody in the Gens Collective would be stupid enough to threaten Paulo, at least not without the immense wherewithal and an army of adherents close behind. Nobody in the Gens Collective had those resources. None that he was aware of anyway.

  Paulo was at his best when reading the tea leaves. Without his skill at connecting dots, correctly guessing future events, and his magic for prognostication, Paulo would’ve been dead long ago. Life at the top of the leadership of the Gens Collective had been inadvertently modeled after the Roman Imperial dictatorships and was as convoluted as the politics of Imperial Rome. Intrigue, assassinations, and conspiracies weren’t uncommon; retaliations for attempts on his life swift and fatal. The ruling elite tolerated little dissent and opposition factions like the Black Shirts were routinely infiltrated, rooted out and trampled as quickly as they sprang up.

  But the case of the humans, particularly the Human, was different. Here the traditional advantage held by the Gens Collective was absent. The Gens had no idea who he was, but he knew a lot about them. And Paulo. And Paulo’s family.

  And the Human had resources; that much was clear from the debacle at the Grand Canyon. The Human could not only threaten; he could execute on that threat. With vigor.

  ***

  “Listen, whatever your name really is, I didn’t give any order to go after any humans. I gave you my word and I have kept it.”

  “From now on you can call me John Doe Smith and you, Fortizi, are a liar. Had I been there, I might’ve been killed in that exchange. You sent your armed teams to kill our non-threatening teams that were doing nothing dangerous to your personnel or your Library. Your men confirmed that I was targeted, and that the ‘kill order’ was personally approved by higher ups. How do you explain that?”

  “I can’t. Not yet anyway. But I can tell you that I did not give the order, and as soon as I heard about the firefight, I rescinded the prior approval. I am looking into who gave the order, but I assure you it wasn’t me.”

  “How convenient, Paulo. Real fucking convenient. Someone gave the order, but it wasn’t you. You Gens tried to kill me but what, it was an accident? You’ll have to forgive me if I think you are full of shit.”

  Paulo was now burning on a short fuse. Nobody, nobody in the Collective would ever deign to speak to him in that tone or use those words.

  “You are fortunate to be anonymous when you speak in such disrespectful manner.”

  “And yet I don’t fucking care what you think. You fucked up when you didn’t get me.”

  “I did not attempt to kill you. That’s the truth. You’re blowing this way out of proportion and are likely to start the very war you claim you want to prevent. You need to get yourself under control as well as your people. Thirteen of my people are dead and two more are prisoners.”

  “What is the color of the sky in your world? Get control of my people? Are you insane? We didn’t attack
your people; you attacked mine.”

  Adam was incensed.

  He continued, “Let’s assume I believe you when you say you didn’t order the attempt on my life. Then it appears that you don’t have control of your own organization, and worse you’ve lost control at the top. A random Gens warrior, sure I get that some idiot goes off the rails. But this was approved at the top. Approved. If not you, then who gave the order? You just told me you don’t know. What the fuck, Paulo. You don’t know? That means I can’t rely on you, your word, or anything coming out of your organization.”

  Paulo said, “I can fix this. Give me a day and I’ll find whoever did this and punish them. That’s a promise.”

  Adam said in his coldest, iciest voice. “6555 Cypress Street, Princeton, New Jersey. 146 Tropicana Drive, Miami, Florida. Your wife and three kids. The eldest, your son, age fourteen. Daughter, age eight. Daughter, age seven. Private schools and bodyguards. Better figure out where to hide your family, Paulo. I’m comin’ for them. And you.”

  Paulo went white hot in an instant. “Try anything with my family and I’ll…”

  “You’ll what? Try to kill me. That threat has lost its cachet. This chat is over. Run while you can, Paulo. Run.”

  Chapter 10

  The teams headed by Rod and Cindy Suarez were crafted to function most effectively in foreign countries rather than at home in North America. The episode at the Grand Canyon was an outlier and designed to fit the needs of both Adam and Misti. In other circumstances, new domestic units Edward and Bethy had organized would’ve handled the assignment with local talent mostly recruited from the Eight Families and their familiars.

  Bethy McQueen hadn’t been involved in the formation of foreign striker units managed by Team Suarez. That included the two units first making their debut in Princeton, then later at the Grand Canyon. After Arizona, Team Suarez, and their paramilitary units would no longer be operating on domestic soil; they would soon be heading abroad after a brief assignment at the decommissioned Casky AFB.

  Bethy and Edward had gathered with Noki and Alana in going down to Seattle to spend some rehab time with Misti and Adam. Misti was fine but Adam was in constant pain from three gunshot wounds, any one of which could’ve been fatal if just to the left or right, up or down. Misti now felt a pang of angst for having asked to go on the mission; in the end, it was probably an idiotic idea that had been precipitated by having been intentionally left out of one previous specific dangerous mission. Though she had performed exceptionally well, Adam had been marked in the crossfire and his wounds were on her conscience.

  She would still have zero trouble sleeping at night; everyone on the team had undertaken the mission knowingly and had done their jobs well. The Gens had been exceeding lucky getting close to Adam and Jacobs. And only Adam had been seriously wounded. Now his passions were inflamed, and he had an insane level of vengeance planned for Paulo and his family.

  But he was in no shape to do anything on his own and Misti had suddenly lost her taste for action. She was pregnant with his child, as was Noki. Adam wouldn’t endanger any of them again but, still, a measured response to Paulo was called for.

  Misti had sat down with Adam to discuss his future in the field. She told him she had experienced a change of heart; neither he nor she could ever be exposed to that level of personal danger again. Edward had been right; it was a foolish request coming from anger and ego. Hers. She now rejected her previous position and would remain close to home, whether it be Barrows Bay or the Manor.

  The group gathered in the living room of Misti’s Queen Anne residence.

  “What exactly do you have in mind, son,” Edward asked. “I know you think that Fortizi has somehow targeted and found you but to be honest, I really doubt it. I don’t think he has a clue who you are or who we are for that matter. What I do think happened was he surmised you might be part of the group that came to the North Rim. It was a lucky guess, but that’s all. Aside from the intel Misti got from one guy, which was nothing concrete, there is scarcely any other evidence that they have a clue about our identities.”

  “I guess I would have to agree. But I don’t think we need a lot of additional evidence about what they want to do if they do find out who we are. I’m sure we would all agree on that?”

  There were general nods of agreement.

  “In addition to any nasty thoughts these guys harbor, there is the matter of the recent information we got back from the CDC and the Labs in Berkeley and Chicago. When we put that together with recent data from Misti and Hannah’s work, a picture emerges of the Gens Collective looking to do something big and on a grand, maybe world-wide scale. We might question their ability to accomplish said plan, but all doubt has been removed that they certainly want to and will try. Dad, do you and Misti want to update the rest of us about what we have now confirmed?”

  “I think we have circulated the memos we got back from the CDC but, just in case the science is less than crystal clear, the conclusion from our sources covers two broad undertakings. First, and scariest, is that they seem to be trying to synthesize some sort of viral infection which they have denominated the E-5 virus. I have no idea what the ‘E’ means, but the ‘5’ seems to suggest that the virus is some sort of rapidly mutating variant on five different viral toxins. We’re still working on how the virus might affect humans, the potential for a treatment, immunization or cure, and delivery methods. But so far, the CDC seems to think this is the real deal. There is one drawback, however.”

  “Which is?”

  “Seems it will kill human, and Gens in equal numbers. Attacks the immune systems of both in almost the same way. At least for the transformed Gens. Still trying to figure out the Gens natural state biology and physiology, but we’re guessing that it may be the same as transformed Gens and humans in specific ways. If it wasn’t, I’m guessing they might’ve unleashed this pandemic already. So…”

  “So?”

  “So, if intentionality matters, they have the will, but may not yet have the means. Not yet anyway. Further compounding their dilemma is delivery. If delivery is either water born, or air born, seems like our demise is also theirs. I’m guessing that the focus of their present research is how to tailor the E-5 virus to humans, but not the Gens in either state. Even if they can avoid the toxic effects when in natural state that may mean they would need to forego transformation. Or they’re working on a cure or an immunization.”

  “OK. That’s one,” said Adam. What about the other science project?”

  “This is one we understand the least about, so anybody’s guess right now is as good as mine. What we know are two disparate facts. Fact one is that the Gens seem to transform when they ingest human blood. Fact two is they’re doing research into animals that transform from one state to another. Put that together, and what do we have? I don’t know. They may be working on a way to force transformation without human blood or for a way to suppress it. I’m betting on the latter.”

  “Why?”

  “Think about it. If a Gens attacks and kills a human, their natural instinct, according to Tomas di Gensarii, is to snack on the fresh kill. In fact, the instinct is overwhelming. That said, the consumption inevitably forces transformation and rather quickly – a matter of hours. That means to human form. But which state makes them more lethal?”

  Misti said, “That depends. One on one, the Gens in natural state are formidable. Doubtless we lose that contest nine out of ten times. Maybe ninety-nine times out of a hundred. On the other hand, in human form they think, and act like us. Which do you find more dangerous? Army to army, human form without question. But running wild in an urban setting against unarmed humans, I’m going with the Gens in natural state.”

  “Why not both?”

  “Why not both indeed?” Edward continued, “It is in the interest of the Gens to control transformation – in both directions. It gives them a certain flexibility we human don’t possess.”

  “Wh
at of their abilities in each state? What do we know of them?”

  “Nothing. Neither the translations nor the Book tell us much, except that one state is more primitive while the other is not. We know nothing of intelligence, communication between states or even dexterity. We can only surmise.”

  Alana wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. “What do we do then?”

  Adam, said, “Well that, Alana my love, is only one of the many reasons you have been invited to this soiree. That is, in addition to your great beauty, quick wit and seductive manner.”

  “You have a talented tongue, Adam. But at times you speak in riddles even I cannot understand. Speak plainly. What would you have me do?”

  “I would have us all be involved in what needs to be done. We will need Bethy’s talented striker teams to do the physical labor that neither Misti nor I can presently undertake. So be it. The plan involves two parts. Part one is yours Alana.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Yes, Adam,” said Misti. “Do tell.” Misti had no idea what Adam was thinking either. Only Edward and Bethy had figured out his strategy.

  “I got the idea from our talk with Rod and Cindy last year. Except with Alana on board it’s vastly simpler, safer and better.”

  Chapter 11

  Enzo walked down the hall from his office to Paulo’s, having heard from staff that Paulo was in a “mood” worse than his normal “moods” when heads rolled, and ordinary transformed Gens were repurposed for life in the wild. An occasional miscreant was repurposed for the afterlife; when that happened, Paulo felt it essential to keep the entire family together. These instances were rare, very rare, but were well publicized to give the Collective the correct impression that there were consequences for transgressing the Code of Strictures, even for family.

  And severe consequences for crossing or disobeying Paulo.

  The rules, Paulo’s rules, were also clear, and exceptions wouldn’t be made here either, except occasionally for family. That included Enzo, who had crossed the line before and lived. He was cocky, confidant, and articulate in the way that could be persuasive to the only Gens that mattered for his continued existence, Paulo.