Agents of Order

by T. R. Cameron

  “Verify audio and video capture, recording, and playback.”

  “Verified. The device appears to be fully functional. Well done.”

  She shook her head. “Suck-up. Now download a local version of yourself into the box.”

  The AI sounded reluctant. “Are you quite sure that’s a good idea? Having sophisticated and proprietary software sitting on rooftops?”

  Kayleigh laughed. “Don’t worry. Once we’ve finished testing, we’ll put in a failsafe that melts the insides if anyone messes with it.”

  She hadn’t realized that the computer system could sigh with such clear disappointment. “Installing.” She drummed her fingers, quickly bored with waiting for the software to do its task. The clock in her peripheral vision showed that it was already ten-twenty p.m, which meant she’d lost track of time while engaged in her work, a frequent occurrence. She folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them, closing her eyes. Only for a minute.

  Deacon’s call interrupted her before she’d managed more than thirty seconds of rest. “Hey, Kitana, come over here.” She was instantly in motion, his use of her gamer tag a signal he had something to share that excited him. His workstation was a wide semicircle of monitors, keyboards, and mice. He also used voice commands to interact with his systems but rejected her offer of a personal AI, claiming he didn’t appreciate virtual assistants that were smarter than he was.

  She stopped behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, kneaded a few times, and elicited a pleased groan. “Whatcha got, hotshot?” He clicked an icon and one of his screens was duplicated to the large wall-mounted monitor above his station. It showed a scrolling feed of information that was about as comprehensible to her as the Matrix code. She shook her head. “Okay, I’ll ask again. Whatcha got, hotshot?”

  He laughed. “What you’re looking at is a list of transactions for an offshore gambling site run by our friends in Chinese Intelligence.”

  She scowled and clenched her fists, drawing a startled yelp from him. “Oops, sorry.” Not sorry. “Interesting play. Both revenue and leverage?”

  He brushed her hands off his shoulders and began tapping his keyboards. On the monitor, the feed was replaced with a weird combination of a mind map and flowchart that seemed to show the inputs and outputs of the website in question. “Seems to be. NSA spotted it first, we acquired the information through our usual channel, and I gave it a look in turn. It seemed fairly ordinary until I realized it was magically guarded.”

  Kayleigh didn’t understand the interface of magic and tech in the virtual world of the Internet. She understood it a little better when it came to working with physical objects that combined the two, but it remained slippery. He paused, clearly waiting for her to give him some accolades for his accomplishment, and she remained silent. I can’t have him getting a big head. Plus, he’s fun to mess with.

  After a few moments, he continued, “Anyway, once I peeled the magic back and hacked through the defenses—both of which were monumentally impressive efforts that no one here is sophisticated enough to appreciate—I managed to access a client list. In code, of course, but even the best proxy servers leave traces. One of those led to a person we’re interested in. Care to guess who?”

  If he’s letting me guess, it almost has to be someone on the oversight committee. If it was an enemy, he’d simply come out and announce it. She considered all the potential answers but couldn’t settle on a favorite. “I’d say Senators Greene or Cyphret. Please don’t let it be Finely or Somers.”

  Deacon laughed. “Nope. It’s Tomassi.”

  Her jaw dropped open in shock. “Seriously? Our boy Winston isn’t as goody-goody as he looks?”

  “So it seems. Apparently, he likes to gamble. He only does it from home, so that’s something. He uses secure accounts—which I hacked, of course—that he fills with his personal funds. So he’s not stealing from the government or anything. But it makes his overall financial picture much shakier than we’d thought.”

  Kayleigh shook her head. “Wow. This is unexpected. But that leaves him open to two different approaches—compensation and blackmail. Damn.” She drummed her fingers on his shoulders as she thought it through. “Okay, we need to plan. And to do that, we also need a change of venue. Let’s move.”

  As they reached the door out of the labs, Alfred spoke in her comm. “Installation complete. Now I finally have someone intelligent to talk to.” She rolled her eyes. Maybe I’ve given the AIs too much room to grow.

  The Tiki Lounge was one of Kayleigh’s favorite night venues. It was island-themed with a fake-straw canopy over the bar and torches winking throughout. The weather was nice enough that the front window was retracted to let the nighttime breeze in, and Deacon headed to the long bar that traveled the whole way down the left side of the room to order drinks while she diverted to the classic jukebox on the right wall. It was filled with everything from Elvis to EDM, and she threw in a five and picked songs from Kiss, Rush, Pink, PJ Harvey, and then, after much consideration, added another from Rush. We are indeed modern-day warriors, with mean, mean strides.

  She met her partner at one of the tall tables that made up the center of the space and lurched a little as the high stool wobbled. Deacon laughed, and she scooped the cherry from her Pina Colada and threw it at him. “First, shut up you. Next time, pick a table that doesn’t suck. Second, I’m picking the drinks from here on out.”

  He grinned at her. “Got it. So, this is your party. What are we doing?”

  She took a sip, pleased to taste that at least he’d ponied up for a premium rum. A short instance of brain freeze later, she regained the power of speech. “Okay. First, a quick summary. We know Clarke is connected to the Remembrance and to Chinese Intelligence. We also now know that Tomassi has a connection to them too, which complicates things. We can’t simply plant a piece of information and grab Clarke since it might come from other sources. Who knows how many of the oversight committee members they’ve compromised?”

  Deacon nodded. “So, either different lies to each of them, which would be really difficult, or we need to be able to trace any leaks.”

  “How would you do it?” She had some ideas but disliked all of them.

  He shrugged. “I’d put a bug in their phones.”

  “What if they used a computer instead?”

  “Yeah, I thought of that, too.” He sighed and leaned closer. “It would have to be to be capable of jumping to any machine on a network, assuming they’re stupid enough to use the phone on Wi-Fi.”

  She snorted and took another drink. Okay, actually, this wasn’t a half-bad choice. It’s tasty and goes with the setting. The flickering torches cast moving shadows and gave their conversation a conspiratorial feel. She copied his action and leaned forward. “I think we can assume such stupidity. But we’ll think of a backup too. Maybe we can send Rath in to bug them.”

  He nodded, but the expression on his face told her he didn’t like that inelegant solution any more than she did. “So, we need to have all the suspects in a room together.” He paused, then added, “Actually, if we do it, we should do it with all the committee members.”

  Her straw made a harsh noise that revealed her drink was empty, and she visited the bar to buy another round. When she returned to the table, Deacon gave her a suspicious glare. “Why is there no fruit on mine?”

  She put her head down, chewed, and swallowed before she donned her most innocent expression and met his eyes. “I couldn’t tell you. Weird, right?” He laughed as she took her seat again. “Okay, I agree. All the committee members, as much as that sucks. What’s the lure?”

  “The location of the base?”

  “They already have access to that information. Besides, we have to assume our enemies are smart enough not to try to attack us on our home turf.” The defenses they’d put into the building were even more impressive than the ones she had installed at the house she shared with Diana and Rath. “Maybe the security agency, though.”
>
  Deacon shrugged. “It’s not really valuable. Why would they care?” He snapped his fingers. “I know. Your home address.”

  She gave him two middle fingers in return for the comment, then the solution hit her. “A fake base. We tell them that a given building is a special facility where we train to take on the Remembrance. We can find a space and use an AI and a few simple bots to make it appear occupied.”

  He laughed. “You’re going to repurpose Roombas, aren’t you?”

  “Do not mock the automatic sweeper.” She scowled at him. “Those things are the perfect tools for the task as long as the figures on top aren’t too heavy and are balanced properly.”

  His mirth increased. “Yeah, right up until the moment they all start calling for help together.”

  Kayleigh rolled her eyes. “Why did I recommend you for this job? I’m sure there must have been a reason, but for the life of me, I can’t recall what it might have been.”

  “My good looks? Big brain? Videogame skills?”

  Her reply was louder than intended and drew a few stares from the other people nearby. “Ha. As if. You couldn’t shoot your way out of a wet paper bag, noob.”

  He shook his head. “It’s sad that you have to resort to demeaning insults. It’s beneath you, really. Anyway, your idea is a good one. Maybe the agents can visit it from time to time in case they’re being watched.”

  Her happiness vanished as she considered the next step. “Okay, but that leaves us nailing only the committee members. There's no clear way to implicate anyone else further up the chain. How do we do that?”

  Deacon shrugged, uncomfortable again. “A virus. It’s the only answer. It’ll have to go to every single connection they make since we won’t know how they communicate.”

  Kayleigh frowned. Their shared values on the matter of viruses and random surveillance were long-standing. “That’s frighteningly close to the edge, privacy-wise.”

  He nodded. “I’ll create the virus. You design the AI that will review the information before any humans see it and delete anything that isn't a lead. That way, we can preserve some innocent connections, anyway.”

  She stood, her second drink only half-finished. “Damn. I don’t love it but it seems like the only option. We’d better get back to work. Sleep will be in short supply for a while.”

  Chapter Four

  Diana felt decidedly rumpled as she exited the airport. With perfect timing, Lisa’s cherry red Audi TT drew up at the curb with an eager growl from the engine. She threw her travel bag into the trunk and slid into the seat next to her best friend, who accelerated into the road before any words could be spoken.

  She laughed. “Damn, woman, you drive more aggressively than I do. Have you always been insane or is this new?”

  Lisa turned and flashed her a grin before she returned her gaze to the road and weaved skillfully between the slower cars. “It’s not my fault no one here knows how to drive. They act like they’re in a funeral procession or something.”

  She laughed as she checked to ensure her seatbelt was secure. “Well, you don’t need to show off so much that you get us both killed.”

  “Pah. You can use your magic to save us if I screw up.”

  “Me, anyway. Saving you might be too great a challenge.” Her friend jerked the wheel quickly enough to make the car lurch, and she straightened in alarm, then cursed as she laughed. “Wench.”

  “Witch.”

  Lisa got them to the restaurant safely, and they were escorted to their seats by an elegantly dressed woman with olive skin, dark eyes, and bright white teeth. Diana looked around to admire the restaurant’s marble and wooden interior and noted all the staff at the posh Italian venue shared similar features. “Authentic.”

  Her friend nodded and her newly shortened blonde hairstyle bobbed with the motion. “Yeah, it’s a DC thing nowadays in the fanciest places—trying to make it look like you’ve been transported to the home of the cuisine. So far, no one’s complained and the restaurants are doing well, to say the least.” L’Italia was full with all the high tables taken by people dressed for business.

  She opened the menu and whistled. “At these prices, they don’t get many tourists, eh?”

  Lisa laughed. “Exactly. Don’t worry, my company is picking up the tab for this one. Let me make it official. Are you interested in legal representation, Agent Sheen?”

  “Not at this time.”

  She put on a resigned pout. “Fine. See if I take you to lunch again.”

  Diana grinned, but her reply was interrupted by the arrival of their waiter, who was true to form with dark hair and eyes and a physique that suggested he might spend his free hours rowing gondolas in Venice. He was dressed in black, except for the scarlet tie that tucked into his fashionable vest. They ordered lunches and glasses of red wine to go with it, and he departed. They caught each other watching him leave and laughed.

  Lisa sighed. “I wonder if he’s single.”

  “I could ask him for you.”

  “Really, no thanks. Speaking of which, how’s Bry-bry?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Bryant is fine. I’ll see him later tonight, in fact.”

  “Sure, you have time to spend with him but only lunch for me.”

  “There’s no need to be a jerk. You’re welcome to visit whenever you like. You keep promising and failing to deliver. Which, you know, might be why your relationships don’t work out.” Her friend’s mouth formed a perfect circle and she tossed a piece of bread at Diana’s head. She caught it with a laugh. “Okay, okay, that one was over the line. I’m sorry.”

  Lisa folded her arms and glared over the small rectangular table at her. “You’d better be.”

  Diana drew an X across her heart with her index finger. “How’s work?”

  The other woman sighed and took a sip of the Chianti that had arrived a few moments before the bread incident. “Things seem to have quieted. It doesn’t seem like they’re keeping secrets or anything anymore. In fact, it doesn’t seem like they’re doing anything. I haven’t heard of any new clients for the firm, and heaven knows I certainly haven’t gotten any. Maybe I’m being frozen out.”

  “You don't sound like that idea particularly bothers you.”

  She shook her head. “It did at one point, but not so much anymore. It’s a job. I thought it would be a career, but that looks less and less likely.”

  “Are you planning to look for something new?”

  Lisa shrugged. “Eventually, I guess. I’m not sure if I want to stay in law. I could be a hell of a lobbyist—and take people to lunch all the time.”

  Diana laughed. “You’re aware that, generally speaking, it doesn’t involve projectiles, right?” She leaned back as a different server, also quite handsome, delivered their meals. Lisa had chosen a sensible Sicilian chicken dish that had a luxurious-looking cream sauce. She had seen gnocchi on the menu and had been unable to resist, and the perfect little dumplings rested enticingly in a pesto sauce. The aromas drifting up from the entrees were irresistible, and for a while, they focused on eating. Near the end, as usual, they traded dishes for the last couple of mouthfuls.

  When the plates were cleared and tiramisu and coffees on the way, Diana had run out of ways to avoid the biggest question at hand. She squared her shoulders and met Lisa’s gaze. “Are you okay? Like, really okay? After…you know?”

  The other woman nodded once decisively. “I’m fine. And I’m not simply saying that. At first, it was scary, sure. But once I got my wits about me, I realized there were only two ways the story would end. One, you would rescue me before the pivotal moment came. Or two, I would fight him with everything I had and either win or go out knowing I’d done all I could. Of course, I liked the first better, so I was more than happy when you and the Drow showed up.”

  She searched her friend’s eyes but found no deception in them. “So, no lingering effects? Nightmares? Flashbacks?”

  Lisa shook her head. “Nope. It has made me train more
seriously, though, so I guess ultimately, it was positive.” She laughed. “It’s damn far to go for a good result—to another planet and all—but whatever. It could be that I needed that kick in the ass.”

  “You’ve become harder since I left.”

  “Damn straight. When my guardian angel deserted me, I had to improve at taking care of myself in the first place. It’s all good. It’s a tough world out there, and every day, I am better prepared to deal with it.” She pulled on the chain around her neck and the half-heart necklace pendant popped out. “Of course, I’m not dumb enough to be without this, either.”

  She laughed and pressed her own where it lay against her chest. “Good call, blondie. Maybe next time, you’ll be the one saving me.”

  The trip from the restaurant to her hotel had been far more sedate, thanks to the downtown traffic, and Diana had used the rest of the day to nap, clear some paperwork, and get ready for Bryant’s arrival. When he finally arrived, looking bedraggled from work, she pounced on him and made sure he knew how much she missed him. It was quickly evident that the feeling was mutual.

  The next morning, she stepped out of the shower in shorts and a t-shirt with a towel wrapped around her hair to discover that breakfast had appeared. He was already dressed in his standard suit for another day dealing with the political side of ARES. That they’d managed to shoehorn in one evening together was a victory given the chaos facing the agency, but the need to have this conversation in person had been the true reason for the trip. The rest was merely a bonus. Super-bonus, actually.

  She dropped into the chair across from him and lifted the silver dome covering her plate. It was filled with eggs, bacon, toast, and waffles. A small caddy of assorted condiments and toppings sat on a cart nearby, with a mug and two carafes of coffee. She sighed. “You do know me well, Bry-Bry.”

  He choked on his drink, and she laughed while he dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “Bry-Bry?”