by Lee Stephen
Silence. The three words never came. Scott wasn’t sure if he felt disappointed or that he’d just dodged a bullet. Maybe he felt both.
I don’t know anything anymore, God. But I don’t want to be alone, even though I told Sveta otherwise. I have messed up with You so many times. Please let me know what you want me to do. Please make it clear.
As was often the case, Scott received no answer, only the intangible inclination that at some point, he’d know what to do. That was all he could bank on.
For several minutes, Scott and Svetlana simply held each other. No words were spoken between them—none needed to be. For the first time that day, Esther was gone from his mind.
And so was Nicole.
15
TUESDAY, MARCH 13TH, 0012 NE
2056 HOURS
DESPITE THE OBVIOUS importance of going into the Cairo mission prepared, Scott accomplished very little of tangible substance in the hours that passed from the afternoon to his scheduled meeting with Antipov, beyond packing his duffle bag and tidying his quarters for the meeting. His mindset was that any amount of planning he did himself would be dwarfed by whatever Antipov would come up with. Antipov wasn’t just an eidolon, he was the eidola. That Scott even knew who he was was a privilege.
Auric and Boris had arrived in Scott’s room together, ten minutes before meeting time. Few words were exchanged between the three men as they waited for Antipov. On a judgment call, and with Esther not yet present, Scott decided to let Auric and Boris in on the events of the previous night, if for nothing else, for situational awareness. They needed to know that things weren’t well between Scott and her. This wasn’t a mission suited for being caught off guard with anything.
With that in mind, he also informed them about the threat against Svetlana’s life, contingent on the success of the mission. The brief explanation went a long way in revealing to them why this mission was so important to Scott as well as why he was in an admittedly short mood.
It was abundantly clear to Scott that no one in this mission was going into it for the right reason, which was to uncover a possible EDEN Command conspiracy with the Ceratopians. For them, this was about Svetlana. Scott almost regretted following the conspiracy rabbit trail at all. Perhaps that wasn’t the right mentality considering a conspiracy would be a huge revelation for the whole human species, but ignorance had a way of being bliss.
It was 2059 when a new knock finally came to his door. About time, Scott thought. Rising from the table, he walked across his room and opened the door. That had better be—
The moment Scott saw the woman standing in the hallway, he froze. Who the? She was mocha-skinned, but dressed in a tan, single-breasted, two-button cashmere suit. Dark brown and eyeliner-traced eyes gazed at him through a pair of thin-framed rectangular glasses, as she angled her head just enough to make her inverted bob to glide gracefully along her chin line. Tapping polished maroon nails and licking freshly glossed lips, she said in all-too-familiar British, “Well, captain, can I come in?”
Oh my God. This is Esther!
Her eyes, her hair. Her entire appearance. It was like staring at another person. She looked...stunning. Stepping aside and still slack-jawed, Scott allowed Esther to enter. As soon as Auric and Boris caught sight of her, they stood up as if welcoming in a foreign diplomat. Then they blinked, too.
Before Scott could find any words, Antipov emerged from around the corner into the open doorway. The scruffy-haired eidolon nodded casually. “Good evening, Captain Remington. Allow me to introduce the newest member of your team: Miss Calliope Lee.”
“Calliope Lee?”
Antipov walked inside, motioning for Scott to close the door. “It is a necessary alias. The many variants of Miss Brooking’s real name would undoubtedly be traced. For this mission, we require something original.”
“Why does she look like that?” Scott asked, ogling the scout as she sat cross-legged.
Placing a manila envelope on Scott’s table, Antipov answered, “When I learned that you had indeed selected Brooking for this operation, I sought her out and drove her to the city. As your primary infiltrating agent, it will be important that she look the part of someone who would naturally appear in Cairo’s Xenobiology lab.” He crossed his arms. “Let us talk. Please, sit.”
The way Antipov spoke, it was as if Scott was a guest in his room. In a way, that might have been true. The eidola ran The Machine. As Scott took a seat with his three comrades, Antipov paced around them. “On the table before you, you will find dossiers for three individuals you will encounter in Cairo: Captain Rockwell, Lieutenant Marshall, and Giro Holmes, chief of Xenobiology. Please, take a look and pass the dossiers around.”
Scott’s focus went to the envelope before him. Captain Rockwell. Scott had been wondering who the man was whose unit he was about to violate. Turning the manila envelope upside down, he slid the dossier out, inspecting the topmost individual’s photo attachment.
It was a woman. Chestnut hair, emerald eyes, looked in her latetwenties. Her expression was stern, no-nonsense. Like the CEO of a corporation.
Rockwell, Natalie Christine
Natalie? This was Captain Rockwell? He hadn’t expected a woman, though for no particular reason other than past experience with COs—Tanneken Brunner the only exception that came to mind. He skimmed down the rest of the page.
Enrollment: 12.1.0008
Station: Atlanta
Scott lowered the paper and stared ahead. A three-year veteran, flying in from Atlanta, for a command opportunity in Cairo. This had to be her first stab at captainship—her records didn’t even have Cairo listed. He skimmed on.
...unrivaled dedication...strong sense of justice...leadership potential...
He read enough to get the gist. She was the military ideal. She’d probably worked her tail off for this opportunity. Holding out Rockwell’s dossier, he handed it to Boris at his right.
“Yomayo!” Boris exclaimed as he saw the captain’s picture. “She is like goddess!”
Esther snatched the picture away. Inspecting it for a moment, she handed it back. “She’s a regular Venus,” she said flatly.
“Can I keep this?” Boris asked.
“Boris, pass the dumb thing around,” said Scott.
Antipov cleared his throat. “Here is what you need to know about Captain Rockwell. She is an American, formerly a commander in Atlanta. This is her first opportunity to be the captain of a unit.” Nodding to the document, he said, “As you can see, she has excellent marks for an officer. To be presented with an opportunity for captainship in three years is impressive.” Briefly, he settled on Scott. “Not everyone leapfrogs the chain of command.”
There was no malice in the way Antipov said it. It was just an observable fact. That Scott had flown up to captain in under a year was not only remarkable, it was brazenly unfair. Such was life under the rule of General Thoor. I guess it doesn’t matter, since EDEN thinks I’m a lieutenant anyway.
“Rockwell will be your primary focus,” Antipov said, looking at Scott. “Your presence as overseer is necessary in Cairo for this operation to succeed. Just the same, you must treat your transfer to the Caracals, her unit, as legitimate.” He propped his hands against the table. “The Caracals are a newly-formed unit. Work with the captain. Help her train her personnel. But all the while, maintain contact with ‘Calliope’ as she draws nearer to H`laar. When the time comes to remove H`laar from Cairo, you will guide her in his extraction. She is the primary resource in this operation, but the success of the operation itself is your responsibility.”
Great.
Antipov motioned to the next dossier. Turning to it, Scott’s attention focused on the next picture.
Marshall, Logan Bradley
Marshall looked like a pit fighter. Shaved head, facial scars, chiseled features. Scott read on.
Enrollment: 12.1.0008
Station: Atlanta
He’d come in at the same time as Rockwell. Both had been statione
d at Atlanta. They might even have had a shared unit history. Perhaps they’d come to Cairo together, as Scott was doing with his comrades now. If so, that meant there’d be camaraderie between Rockwell and him. Scott stopped reading as something at the page’s bottom caught his eye.
Recipient of Knockout Award
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Antipov smirked. “I think I know what you just read.”
The Knockout Award. It was the most sought-after award in Philadelphia Academy—and for a good reason. Laughing under his breath, Scott set the document down. “This guy knocked out Captain Williams?”
Auric and Boris’s eyes widened like plates.
Nodding, Antipov answered, “That is correct. Marshall has been a lieutenant for as long as Rockwell has been a commander. They were part of the same Academy class, stationed in the same unit in Atlanta.” He stood upright. “I show you his dossier for one reason primarily. In the event that something occurs that reveals you for who you are, you must be prepared to deal with Marshall. He is a dangerous man—and this is coming from the chief of the eidola.”
Antipov’s focus turned to Auric. “I understand that your inclusion in this operation is primarily due to your ability to speak German, the language H`laar attempted to communicate with.” Auric listened attentively. “However, you are to consider your primary task assisting Remington in his endeavors. You are also there to back him up should bad things happen.” Shifting to Scott, Antipov said, “You were told you could bring up to four additional operatives. Are you sure there is no fourth operative you wish to include? You must remember—these men will serve as your reinforcements.”
“There’s no one else,” Scott said. “I wanted to go with a ‘less is more’ approach. The more pairs of feet, the more likely one of them is to stumble. That could give us away.” There was another reason no one else was coming along: he didn’t want to take too many operatives away from the Fourteenth. The Fourteenth would be without some of their strongest assets. They didn’t need to be handicapped any more than they already would be should a mission arise.
Antipov nodded. “As you wish. Then let me address Mister Evteev before we move on to Brooking.” He faced the technician. “Our initial concept was to transfer you to Cairo under the pretense of a new custodian. Custodial roles are nondescript, and frankly, custodians can get places many other operatives cannot. Even the most secure environments must be cleaned.”
Boris the custodian. Something about that made Scott chuckle on the inside.
“However, due to the small number of operatives on this mission, I will be forced to include you with Remington and Broll in the Caracals. That will only make your role slightly more difficult.”
Extra difficulty in any capacity was the last thing Boris needed. Ever. For anything.
“In addition to serving as added reinforcements for the operation, you will have the task of tapping into Cairo’s security mainframe.” As soon as Antipov said it, Boris’s eyes widened. Antipov noted it and waved it away. “Do not be alarmed. We will be providing you with a technician’s kit specifically designed for hacking into computer systems. To all but the most trained, it will appear similar to any standard technical kit.
“Once you are inside Cairo’s mainframe, you should be able to access any number of command functions for the base. I should not need to explain why this could be useful.”
Boris looked as confident as a rookie on a hot-drop. “So I am going in as a combat tech, not a custodian?”
“That is correct. You must use your off-duty time to hack into Cairo’s systems. Will this be a problem?” Antipov asked. Boris indicated there wouldn’t be. “Good. Now, let’s discuss the most important asset in this operation. Calliope.” At the mention of her alias, Esther sat more erect. Antipov motioned to the folder. “On your third and final dossier, you will see Mister Giro Holmes, the chief of the Xenobiology department. This is the man Brooking must make contact with as Calliope.”
Judging by his picture, Giro looked to be in his fifties. He was definitely of Indian descent, despite the English surname. Spectacles rested above a pointed nose and a genuine smile, but visuals aside, nothing about the man’s profile seemed particularly interesting. Then again, Scott was more in-tune with soldiers, not white-collars.
Antipov continued. “Calliope will be visiting Cairo as a civilian contractor on behalf of the base in Sydney, Australia.”
“Is Cairo expecting her?” Scott asked.
“Unfortunately, no. We cannot go back in time to schedule an appointment. If we could, we would need only send Brooking in as Calliope. The only way to ensure that Brooking could enter the facility at all was to include her in the transfer. It will be up to her to use her abilities and instincts to play a dual role in order to gain access to Xenobiology. In fact, one of your first goals is going to be to convince Captain Rockwell that scouts follow their own training schedules,” Antipov said. “This will free up Brooking to become Calliope and do her infiltration while the Caracals train. We have already provided her with an EDEN civilian I.D. card, as we are able to forge those ourselves. The rest is up to her.
“Running covert operations at other facilities is not something we specialize in. I cannot say that we have ever attempted something of this magnitude. I wish I had better news to give you, but this will be an extremely difficult mission, even for the most experienced of eidola.
“Always be aware of your surroundings and situation. Your means of going to Cairo was via unit transfer, and you must play that role as if it is legitimate. But you are there to extract a Ceratopian. We will help you coordinate extraction when that time comes, but you must always be prepared for emergencies should they arise.”
Raising his hand, Scott asked, “How is Esther going to play both roles? What if Rockwell or Marshall see her dressed like the contractor? Or what if Holmes sees her in EDEN uniform?”
Smiling faintly, Antipov made eye contact with Esther and nodded his head. The others watched as Esther stood up, picked up her handbag, and produced a brown ponytail extension. Removing her glasses, she rose from the table and walked to Scott’s sink. As soon as she turned on the tap, she crouched down and dipped her head back until water saturated her scalp. Whisking it damp with Scott’s towel, she slicked it back. Dampening the ponytail extension, she snapped it in place. When she looked at the others again, she seemed a totally different person.
“And that,” Antipov said, “is how you have two identities.” Without a word, Esther retook her seat with her ponytailed look.
Scott had to admit—that was impressive.
“Any other questions?”
Nothing came to Scott’s mind. Then again, this wasn’t his style of operation. Outside of questions so obvious they were silly, he didn’t know enough to know what to ask.
“What do we do if we get discovered?” asked Auric.
Antipov nodded. “Your first priority upon discovery is to notify the other members of your party. Obviously, you do not want to comm them up and say, ‘I just blew our cover.’ That would not be so well for the person on the other end of the line.”
Ha. Good point.
“Instead, get on the comm and say that you just got locked out of your room. This is harmless and it will give the listener on the other end—which should be Remington—an excuse to leave whatever present company he may be around to presumably assist the locked-out party.” He looked at Scott. “Your first priority at that point will be to contact NovCom, and we will prepare for your immediate extraction.”
Wait a second. “You mean we have to wait until a transport flies all the way from Novosibirsk? What if there’s an active firefight?”
“Though you will indeed be forced to wait for evacuation, you will not be without assistance. I have arranged for a small strike team of slayers to stay in downtown Cairo in an apartment near the base. They should be able to reach you within fifteen minutes.”
That sounded anything but assur
ing. “Yeah, but you’re talking about strike teams. Cairo is a full-fledged base.”
Antipov held up his palm. “Do not confuse Cairo with The Machine. Cairo is a Class-2 facility. We are a Class-4. You will find them less than intimidating, and far inferior to your skill.” Smirking, he said, “When one becomes accustomed to the elite, it can make the adequate seem quite harmless.”
The eidolon’s expression returned stoic. “Unfortunately, Cairo is not accepting pilots at this time, making the transfer of a pilot impossible. One of the Nightmen staying at the apartments, however, will be Vulture certified. Whether your cover is blown or not, he will be your primary source of extraction. You should coordinate with him as soon as an extraction plan is finalized—his comm information will be provided.” Leaning forward, he said, “Keep comm contact with him at a minimal. Though our traffic should not be traceable, it is better safe than sorry.” His posture relaxed. “Upon extraction, a squadron will be dispatched from Novosibirsk to Cairo to provide safe escort back to The Machine, in the event that EDEN pursues you.”
So in the end, this was a smash-and-grab after all. Formulate an extraction plan, coordinate with the pilot, return to The Machine. Apparently Thoor wasn’t too concerned with being the world’s most hated after blatantly breaking a prisoner out of another EDEN base. Scott wasn’t surprised.
“Any other questions?” Antipov asked. No one spoke. “Very well. Captain Remington, I will leave those dossiers with you in case you wish to review them tonight.” Pausing, he rested his palms against the table and leaned amid the group. “This is an important assignment you have been tasked with. It is the first of its kind. Never before has the general issued an order to infiltrate another EDEN facility for a purpose such as this.”
For a purpose such as this, eh? Scott couldn’t help but wonder how many EDEN facilities Thoor had infiltrated for other purposes.
Tone growing graver, Antipov said, “This is real. If the possibility of a conspiracy was not a legitimate one, this would not be happening. The Citadel thanks you for bringing this to our attention. The difficulty and danger of this operation cannot be denied, but we stand ready to assist you if need be.” He stood upright. “Get enough sleep tonight. I will see you at the hangar tomorrow at 0715.”
